Visitors 70
Modified 5-Sep-24
Created 4-Sep-24
79 photos
Crab Spiders are masters of camouflage, changing their coloration to match their surroundings. Here are two, hunting on two different flowers – actually, two different tarweeds, some of the few blossoms at this time of year. I focus on one for over seven minutes, a long time to hold my breath (I breathe), as she waits motionless for prey, grasping legs extended, changing position occasionally, even keeping away from me as I move around to get a clear photo. At times she is so still that I can make a composite image from photos captured over 12 seconds. The other Crab Spider? Caught by accident: I don’t even notice her until reviewing photos the next day.
The first Crab Spider is near the Birding Transect Trail. After several birders walk ahead, right by a motionless Mourning Dove, their eyes scanning the horizon for birds, the dove explodes at my feet, a startllng burst of wingflaps. She is caught in some sticky Hayfields Tarweed a few feet away. Foolishly (?), I think I might help. But as I step gingerly over serpentine rocks, she frees herself, darting away, flying low over the grassland into the forest. Then I notice the two eggs in the simple nest – and the Crab Spider at eye level.
I have heard that birds will sometimes pretend injury to lure a predator away from a nest. But this dove seemed genuinely stuck; she left feathers behind. I quietly take some photos and depart, sad to think that the bird might not come back to hatch the eggs. Do you know the odds? Perhaps during next month’s bird transect we can look for broken eggs and try to assess, successful hatching or nutritious meal?
The morning begins with ivory clouds, opulent against the dawn sky. A few plants hold blossoms: the two kinds of tarweed and Turkey Mullein. Deep crimson Poison Oak and lichen accent the muted autumn shades; a few dry flowers add interest. Insects abound: honeybee, iridescent green beefly, and beetles pollinating the Hayfields Tarweed – the Crab Spider waits for any of these. Beetle and grasshopper inhabit the grassland. Seven California Quail venture forth, joined by a couple of Brush Rabbits; they dart back toward the chaparral at any hint of danger. A flight of Mourning Doves whirls overhead. A Red-tailed Hawk surveys the grassland from high in a bare Valley Oak, oblivious to the Acorn Woodpecker sharing the branches. Harvester Ants gather diverse seeds, hassled by a yellowjacket wasp. The cloudy sky turns overcast; shafts of sunlight burst through. An August morning, on the ridge from Escobar Gate.
The first Crab Spider is near the Birding Transect Trail. After several birders walk ahead, right by a motionless Mourning Dove, their eyes scanning the horizon for birds, the dove explodes at my feet, a startllng burst of wingflaps. She is caught in some sticky Hayfields Tarweed a few feet away. Foolishly (?), I think I might help. But as I step gingerly over serpentine rocks, she frees herself, darting away, flying low over the grassland into the forest. Then I notice the two eggs in the simple nest – and the Crab Spider at eye level.
I have heard that birds will sometimes pretend injury to lure a predator away from a nest. But this dove seemed genuinely stuck; she left feathers behind. I quietly take some photos and depart, sad to think that the bird might not come back to hatch the eggs. Do you know the odds? Perhaps during next month’s bird transect we can look for broken eggs and try to assess, successful hatching or nutritious meal?
The morning begins with ivory clouds, opulent against the dawn sky. A few plants hold blossoms: the two kinds of tarweed and Turkey Mullein. Deep crimson Poison Oak and lichen accent the muted autumn shades; a few dry flowers add interest. Insects abound: honeybee, iridescent green beefly, and beetles pollinating the Hayfields Tarweed – the Crab Spider waits for any of these. Beetle and grasshopper inhabit the grassland. Seven California Quail venture forth, joined by a couple of Brush Rabbits; they dart back toward the chaparral at any hint of danger. A flight of Mourning Doves whirls overhead. A Red-tailed Hawk surveys the grassland from high in a bare Valley Oak, oblivious to the Acorn Woodpecker sharing the branches. Harvester Ants gather diverse seeds, hassled by a yellowjacket wasp. The cloudy sky turns overcast; shafts of sunlight burst through. An August morning, on the ridge from Escobar Gate.
Dan Quinn