The Tarantulas Have Crossed The Road

       After months of hot days, perfect sun, bright blue skies and weather anyone else would die for, I long for the change of seasons. And the change of seasons to a central Californian is much different than to  a native Minnesotan. Our seasons here change, but oh so softly, so slightly.  But sometime in late September or early October, something extraordinarily, inexplicably predictable happens.

The tarantulas cross the roads!

We only see tarantulas at this special time of year. And I look for them. I told my granddaughter just a few days ago after a wondrously welcome, short-but-oh-so-sweet rain, “It’s time to look for tarantulas crossing the road.”

She asked, “How do you know, GaGa?”

I told her it was a feeling in the air, a smell on the breeze, the sound of leaves drying and falling. It was time for the boy tarantulas to cross the road and look for the girls.

So on the way to school we kept our eyes open, and sure enough… we saw not one, but two, tarantulas crossing the road. It was an exciting moment as I often see only five total each year.

I take these two tarantulas as a good omen. Life is good. No matter the drought, no matter the world events, no matter the global warming or earthquakes or volcanoes, something is still going just as it always has. Those big black spiders are still moving to an Autumn drum beat, and nothing will stop them.

And nothing will stop me either. I’m going to keep publishing as long as the tarantulas cross the road.

After all, if I don’t keep moving, I may never know what’s on the other side.