This bumblebee is doing its best to hold on and squeeze far enough into a Turricula blossom to slurp some nectar.

Other than rabbitbrush, there are not many food choices for bees in the Southern California mountains in the Fall, so they have to take advantage of what can be found.

Not much Turricula (Poodle-dog bush) is blooming either, but it has been such a prolific fire-follower that here and there a plant is in flower.

From Sunday's Ten Miles - Four Peaks run in the San Gabriel Mountains.

It's wonderful to be on a trail early in the morning. Like the dawn, footfalls are soft, and in the long shadows the cool edges of night remain.

But one of the tradeoffs of being first on a trail are the surprise face fulls of spider and web. On a run up Saddle Peak this June I must have swept 50 webs or more; all the time trying to duck under them, or at least catch them on my cap, whenever I glimpsed a silver thread.

Even though snow plant (Sarcodes sanguinea) is an unusual plant that does not contain chlorophyll and depends on a tree and a fungus for its nourishment, it still has flowers, and the flowers still have nectar.

This was the first time I'd seen any kind of insect feeding on its flowers.

From Sunday's out & back run from Islip Saddle to Mt. Baden-Powell.

Some related posts: Snow Plant, Western Tiger Swallowtail

From Tuesday's run in the Simi Hills.

An unusual spider web, and the spider that made it.

Also from Sunday's out and back run to Saddle Peak.

I'd just run up the long hill we call "The Beast," and was running east on a relatively level stretch of gravelly dirt road on Lasky Mesa, when it's movement caught my eye.

My first thought was "Tarantula!" but this spider was slightly smaller than a tarantula, and running. Tarantulas walk, they (usually) don't run. This spider ran with a smooth, agile, articulated gait that must be the envy of the Arachnid world. I had never seen a spider like this, and started moving in its direction.

Lurking in the back of my mind was an experience I'd had with a tarantula, also on Lasky Mesa. In an attempt to redirect the tarantula from the margin of a dirt road, I'd blocked its intended path with my foot. This had worked a couple of times before, but this time the big spider briefly paused and  then continued to walk toward my running shoe. My shoe was on top of some dried oak leaves, in the grass on the side of the road. I thought maybe if I rustled the leaves... with lightning speed the tarantula charged my foot, and I jumped the proverbial mile.

Today I was going to have to react quickly if I was going to get a photograph. As I started moving toward this unusual spider, it saw me, and increased its speed. I continued to move in its direction, and it suddenly began a series of bizarre, defensive leaps. In a couple of seconds, the spider did three exaggerated "accordion" leaps, extending vertically to the full length of its impossibly long legs. The motion was somehow reminiscent of the propulsive action of a jellyfish. It was unexpected, and very effective!

After that the spider hunkered down, but seeing how quickly it had moved, I only took photos from a "respectable" distance. I wasn't real excited about putting my hand a couple of inches from its big fangs.

Saturday, I was running at Ahmanson with Brett, on Lasky Mesa, and shortly after telling him this story, he spotted the wolf spider (probably Schizocosa mccooki) pictured above!

Related post: Tarantula Time

I found this and several other variable checkerspots (Euphydryas chalcedona) flittering about and feeding on golden yarrow along the Garapito Trail, on a recent run in the Santa Monica Mountains.

A closer look revealed an outlandish creature with black-spotted orange ladybug eyes, a bright orange spiked hairstyle, and a substantial spiraled trunk.

The "hair spikes" are part of the butterfly's sophisticated scent sensing system. They are probably used in combination with the antennae to provide a three dimensional olfactory picture of the butterfly's surroundings. This would help guide the butterfly to food or potential mates.

Butterflies are masters of low speed flight, and exploit several unusual mechanisms to generate aerodynamic lift. They are also opportunistic, and will take advantage of thermals and variations in the windfield to move from one place to another.

Several times when I've encountered a butterfly on a run, it has flown along with me for a surprising distance. I know that butterflies can be attracted by color, that's happened in my bright yellow kayak. But in this case I don't think it's color or coincidence. It seems to me the butterfly is surfing the wave of air pushed around me as I run, similar to the way a porpoise surfs the bow wave of boat.

Related posts: Sylvan Hairstreak, Western Tiger Swallowtail

A couple of weekends ago, I was running up toward the Hub on Fire Road #30 with a couple of runners training for Leona Divide. One of them stopped suddenly, and pointed, "That's a scorpion!"

It was -- about an inch or so in length. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but somehow I just didn't expect to see a scorpion out in the middle of a fire road, on a run to Trippet Ranch.

The title photo is a view from Eagle Springs Fire Road, between the Hub and Trippet Ranch, in Topanga State Park. Saddle Peak is in the distance.

A Winter aggregation of convergent ladybug beetles in the Santa Monica Mountains, near Malibu, California. Here's a short HD video snapshot of one small cluster of the ladybugs.

From Saturday's trail run from Kanan Rd. to Malibu Canyon.

Almost incandescent in the soft light of an overcast sky, the remarkable color of this scrub oak apple gall contrasts sharply with the muted greens, grays and browns of the surrounding chaparral.

The gall forms in response to the larvae of the California gall wasp. The gall protects the developing larvae, as well as providing it a source of food.

On the right side of the gall there appears to be a "sun print" of an oak leaf in the red color, where a nearby leaf may have shielded the surface from sunlight.

From today's run on the Backbone Trail in the Santa Monica Mountains, near Saddle Peak.

The second and third weeks of September is the time I'm most likely to encounter tarantulas in Upper Las Virgenes Canyon Open Space Preserve (formerly Ahmanson Ranch). Autumn is when maturing male tarantulas emerge from their burrows and wander in search of a mate.

This tarantula (Aphonopelma spp.)  was found near upper Las Virgenes Creek on today's wonderfully cool 8 mile "FiveFingers" run.