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 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.

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.

Its menacing body glistening a deep iridescent blue, a tarantula hawk wasp feeds on the flowers of a narrow-leaf milkweed.

I haven't found these huge wasps to be particularly aggressive, but I'm not sure at what point a digital camera held inches  from the alien-looking insect becomes a threat -- and I don't want to find out!

The following is from the paper Venom and the Good Life in Tarantula Hawks (Hymenoptera: Pompilidae): How to Eat, Not be Eaten, and Live Long:

"Tarantula hawks produce large quantities of venom and their stings produce immediate, intense, excruciating short term pain in envenomed humans. Although the instantaneous pain of a tarantula hawk sting is the greatest recorded for any stinging insect, the venom itself lacks meaningful vertebrate toxicity. ...the defensive value of stings and venom of these species is based entirely upon pain. This pain confers near absolute protection from vertebrate predators."

Shudder...

While photographing the wasp, I also took this short HD video. From a run earlier this week at Sage Ranch Park.

Related post: Tarantula Hawk

Large milkweed bugs (Oncopeltus fasciatus) on narrow-leaf milkweed. There is a brood of immature bugs (nymphs) in the opening seed pod, between the two adults. The aposematic red-orange color tells predators the insects taste bad. Adults probably benefit from staying on a plant with the nymphs, because collectively the defensive display is more effective.

The adjacent photograph of immature milkweed bugs (from Photography on the Run) is being used by the Denver Museum of Nature and Science as part of their "Awesome Adaptations" station educational program.

A western tiger swallowtail butterfly on western columbine near Halfway Camp on the Vivian Creek trail on Mt. San Gorgonio.

A section of the trailing edge of the swallowtail's right hindwing is missing -- probably the result of bird predation. This did not seem to affect the butterfly's flight. It still nimbly flittered from flower to flower.

From Saturday's San Gorgonio Mountain - Falls Creek run.

Bumblebee on Kotolo milkweed. From a run on Lasky Mesa in Upper Las Virgenes Canyon Open Space Preserve (formerly Ahmanson Ranch).

There is yellow, and then there is the YELLOW of the mariposa lily, Calochortus clavatus. Remarkable in its brightness and purity, its yellow is one of the most intense and vibrant concentrations of color I have seen in the chaparral.

It is relatively uncommon, and this is one of a few seen along trails in Rocky Peak Park, and the Simi Hills. Of the varieties listed in the Jepson Manual, this appears most similar to the slender mariposa lily (Calochortus clavatus var. gracilis).

The insect emerging from the flower is a small bee -- probably a sweat bee (Halictidae). These bees were found on several of the mariposa blossoms along the trail. They were usually busy slurping nectar from the gland near the base of each petal, and partially hidden by the club-like hairs that gives the species its name.

From a run earlier this week in Rocky Peak Park.

Related posts: Mountain Mariposa, Plummer's Mariposa Lily

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The bright orange-red coloration of these immature large milkweed bugs (Oncopeltus fasciatus) is a warning to predators that they taste bad. Like monarch butterflies, they concentrate foul-tasting compounds from the narrow-leaf milkweed (Asclepias fascicularis) in their bodies.

Following several instars (molts), the nymph is transformed into the adult insect.

The photograph is from a run at Sage Ranch on July 23, 2007.

A bee forages on Bigelow's sneezeweed (Helenium bigelovii) at Little Jimmy Spring. From Sunday's Islip - Baden-Powell loop.