Do Tarantulas Predict Weather?

One of the stories I've always heard as I grew up on the ranch, was that various things indicate when a storm is due, if it's going to rain, etc.  One of those tales is that spotting a tarantula spider is a good indicator that a good rain is coming soon.

The theory is that the spider is expecting the rain to flood their underground home and they are out looking for dry nest.  There well may be other reasons, but I'm not aware of them.

In the summer of 2015, I had been assigned to the Rough Fire, burning southeast of Shaver Lake. One of the runs assigned to the drivers was to take hot meals to the Kirsch Flat spike camp along the Kings River. This camp was several miles east of Trimmer above the Pine Flat Reservoir.  This required the driver to arrive at the spike a little before 6:00 PM.  By the time we got unloaded, picked up anything the had to go back to the main fire camp at the old Dinky Creek Mill, it was approaching dusk.

As we drove along the twisting road from Trimmer to the spike camp, a distance of eight or nine miles, we began seeing the occasional tarantula walking across the paved road.  The only time we'd see the big black spiders was moments before full-dark on our way back to fire camp. When we did see them, there were only one or two on the entire trip.

The drivers started talking about the occasional sightings. The general consensus was that even though it was late summer, a rain could happen anytime.  This area of California often gets a northern flow from Baja in late August. And these so-called "monsoonal flow" storms will indeed dump a little rain.

When the tarantula sightings became more and more frequent, as many as ten or fifteen per trip, we decided it must be going to rain, even though the weather was hot and dry. But when the sightings of tarantulas parading across the road began to happen earlier in the day, often several seen on every trip, we were certain the rain was imminent.

This big spider was spotted in full daylight, prancing across the road.

The night this big bug was photographed, it rained during the night.  In fact, it rained for most of two days. Sadly, it didn't rain much on the fire, but fire camp got thoroughly soaked. As far as the drivers on the Rough Fire were concerned, the tarantulas had told us it was going to rain, and it certainly did.

I used to write a column for the local newspaper, and often wrote about things that happened to me, such as the tarantulas.  I suggested that seeing the big spiders walking around wasn't an iron-clad predictor, but simply one of many things the Indians and old-timers used to anticipate the weather. I put the above picture in one of my columns, and sent it in.

I immediately had one woman write a letter to the editor, stridently stating my claim of a tarantula being able to predict an impending rain had absolutely zero basis in fact. She suggested the real reason was the spiders were preparing to mate, and were wandering around looking for a potential mate.

I suppose there is certainly some truth in that claim. Of course, my question would be how come the tarantula most often is seen out walking just before a rain?  Is it possible that Mrs. Tarantula becomes more amorous when she can hear the gentle sound of rain?

Life Around The Hilltop

I am fortunate to live where I do.  I am able to get on my quad, ride out into the pasture, and observe my cattle anytime I wish.  Sometimes I even get to see wildlife.

I grew up working on my family's cattle ranch. When you see a large number of animals,  you are almost sure to see some things that are humorous ,if you keep watching.

My father used to love to tell about coming into a flat one day, to find a cow nursing her big calf.  The cow was next to the road, with the calf standing on the far side.  As Dad drove up, the calf looked underneath his mother's belly to see what had driven into his field.

The big calf's mouth was foamy from the milk he'd been enjoying. But what tickled my father so much was that his tongue was hanging out of his mouth.  Dad wished he'd had a camera ready to record something he got a good chuckle from.

One day a few months ago, I was trying to get a picture of some of the cattle to us in a column I wrote for the local newspaper.  I had my camera at the ready and caught a hungry calf not willing to wait for his mother to get up.

A gentle cow and an impatient calf.

Another of the residents of my pasture is my herford-angus herd sire, called Mr. Boo.  He's very gentle, but also feels very regal.  I can tell it's him by his outline.  He always holds his head in a very regal manner.

I simply titled this one "King Boo"

As you've read earlier in these blogs, Mr. Boo was purchased from a family in the very small town of Flournoy, west of Corning in the northern San Joaquin Valley.  He'd been raised as a bottle-baby, taking his milk as a calf from a plastic bottle rather than nursing on his mother.  She'd had birthing problems and could not be saved.  Mr. Boo was raised for the first few weeks in a big cardboard box beside the wood stove in the kitchen.

When we brought him home, we were warned that he not only will come up wanting attention, but with a little encouraging he would give kisses.

Mr. Boo is very gently, and carefully licking my chin with the very tender tip of his tongue.  The rest of the tongue is very rough, and if we were licked with that part it would be quite painful.  But Boo is careful to just use the tip of his tongue.

I liked this shot so well, I use it on my business car for Foothill Writer. 

He sometimes come up with Old Momma to get a treat of grain first thing in the morning.  She needs the nutrition as she is aging and can use a little help.  He's in fine physical condition, but likes the grain, so we give them both a little in separate pans.

Old Momma on the left with her big curved horns, and Mr. Boo enjoying a little treat of grain at the patio gate.

Every once in a while, if we are looking carefully, we get to see a wild animal.  Black bears live in our area, and are not very particular about what they eat.  In fact this bear had been to my Dead Pit and filled up on an animal that had recently died.  The bear was so full, he didn't even try to make his way through the fence.  He simply lay down on his belly, and scooted under the wire where it was a bit over a foot above the ground, then got up and proceeded toward the hill to take a nap.

A bear with a very full tummy had just gotten drink, and was headed for the rocks to take a nap.