Monday Goodies: Tarantulas

Well, darn. Yesterday was a day off from school, which in my brain made it not Monday. So, I wrote up the Monday Goodies really late, uploaded the pictures, and then fell asleep without posting them. My comeback is not off to a great start. Bear with me.

I thought I'd start this week with some spiders. While we're on the topic, are you on Google+ yet? If so, add me! Also, every Sunday I curate a group of really awesome spider photos with two other Google+ friends, Kjetil Greger Pedersen and Chris Mallory. If you like my spider pictures, come check out a bunch more good ones on the Spider Sunday page. And join in next Sunday!

So this week's spider ... That big spider you had in your house was probably not a tarantula, especially not this time of the year.

I say this because, about once a month (last week was the most recent one), someone will send me a photo or tell me a story about a "HUGE spider," ask me what I think it was, and then cut me off to tell me never mind, it was probably a tarantula. Usually, it's a wolf spider, maybe a giant crab spider, or just a house spider and a really scared homeowner who swears "It must have at least been a baby tarantula."

That's not a tarantula. This is a tarantula.

Once you've seen a few tarantulas, you won't make the mistake again. Adult tarantulas are all-over bulky, not just long-legged. And they're hairy. To use a Dave Barry quote, they're more like “spiders so large they appear to be wearing the pelts of small mammals.”

Of course, Mr. Barry also asserts that menfolk are the spider killers, and women the spider haters. Which of course gets both me and my husband dead wrong. The point is, we know our spiders. (He, so he can run the other way; and me, so I can get closeup photos and be a know-it-all online.)


Our local tarantula is the Arizona blond; also called the western desert, Mexican blond, and probably a few names I haven't heard before. They tend to be in 1- to 2-inch burrows anywhere where saguaros and other desert flora abound. As you can see in the photo below, they blend in surprisingly well, until Agh! When did that get here?! The stocky females, which reach sexual maturity around seven to 10 years old, are a uniform brown color. The slightly lankier males, which are the ones most commonly encountered, have copper-colored bodies and black legs.


Also, if you're my son, you think they're absolutely adorable.


More on the Arizona blond tarantula soon, because it's also in my Species a Day, which is getting a big boost as soon as I catch up. As soon as Monday: The Sequel (known to more responsible individuals as Tuesday) gives me a breather. Happy week, everyone.

Monday goodies: Cactus wrens

I've never understood why cactus wrens don't get more love. Just the other day, I overheard someone pompously telling her friends that the roadrunner was the state bird of Arizona. Um, no. New Mexico has the roadrunner. Our state bird -- like our people -- is loud, feisty, and a resourceful survivor. We get the cactus wren. Other state symbols include, embarrassingly, the bolo tie as state neckwear and, sadly, the Colt revolver as state gun; so I'm happy we at least got some super-cool animals to represent us. These little birds take the prickliest and most uncomfortable of homes, and make it look appealing. Could there be a better spokesbird for this state?

Cactus wrens (Campylorhynchus brunneicapillus) mostly eat insects, but their diet, like any good Arizona diet, consists of a diverse blend -- wasps, grasshoppers, and beetles supplemented by the occasional fruit, seed, or even frog or reptile. They're larger than our house and canyon wrens by a few inches, but their personalities (birdonalities?) are what really distinguish them -- excitable temper, a call like a car engine, a sort of obnoxious charm. Yep. They're Arizonans.

Enjoy some more cactus wrens. I actually had to cull quite a bit so as not to give you hundreds. Apparently I like them even more than I'd realized. Happy Monday, everyone. Spiders or sparrows next, I think.

Monday goodies: Black-crowned night heron

Monday goodies is a perfect excuse to share some black-crowned night herons. I've already shared quite a few shots of the birds, in entries like this Species a Day post, but I've got a whole folder full of "spares." I thought these deserved a showing.

Black-crowned night herons' scientific name is Nycticorax, for "night raven," since they like to hunt at dusk or night, and have a harsh crow-like call. They bark. It even sounds like the word "bark." Watch for them in late evening or early morning around the water's edge, or roosting grumpily during the day in tree branches. If you can manage to get close without irking one too much, it's worth it.









Hope everyone had a good weekend! Happy Monday.

Monday goodies: Finches

Why finches? Well, for one, I have tons of images of them. They're here every day, carpeting our yard, dancing in the air, bickering, chirping. They're fun.

For another, they're pretty cool birds. They started as residents of Mexico and the Southwestern United States, but have been introduced throughout the rest of the country over the years. They're common, sure, but they're adaptable. And feisty.

Have some finchy goodness. And happy Monday.

Monday goodies/Wildlife Wednesday: Great egrets

Great egrets. Fierce. Graceful. Eaters of insects, fish, baby gators, snakes, frogs, small birds, and really just about anything.

Not eaters of people, and so great fun to watch.

I already did great blue herons, so I figured a Monday with great egrets was in order.

I had this all ready, but Blogger didn't want to do anything but throw my computer into a "Not responding" fit for two days. So now it's a combo Monday goodies and Wildlife Wednesday. Egrets are good for all occasions, no?









Hope you're all having a good week! What animal/pretty stuff/cool thing should I do next? Also, Species a Day write-ups and funny-kid posts coming.

Monday goodies: My kid, animal listener

Horse whisperer. Dog whisperer. Fill-in-the-blank whisperer. You hear it about people who have an affinity for a certain animal. I've even used it on my son before: lizard whisperer, bug whisperer. But really, the fundamental assumption seems to be that you can sort of tame the animal, at least for that instant -- that you fundamentally understand what's going on, from its point of view.

My son's not that kind of animal whisperer. For one, it's nearly all animals. For another thing, he doesn't tame them. He doesn't want to. "Whisperer" seems to imply that he's the one doing the talking, and he doesn't care about what he has to say with animals. He doesn't whisper. He listens. He seems to understand their otherness. If he truly bonds with an animal at all, it's in the sense that he knows they, he and the animal, are separate beings, that this is an Other -- and he loves that. He revels in it.

He doesn't pose with animals, except for once in a while when I ask him to. Usually I just catch him at it. He doesn't seem to understand that this is a special or uncommon gift.

Monday goodies: Great blue herons

Happy Monday! Time for a picture break. I need me some birds.

Before further (kid-caused, technology-caused, or other-issue-caused) ado -- herons! Great blue herons, to be exact. Fishing, eating, glaring, and generally being awesome.