
Buckeye and another stallion keep peaceful watch over their bands under a little sundog.
Heading up to one of the water catchments the other day, I was surprised to see a couple of pronghorn does heading on up past a band of horses that were already leaving the trough and also making their way to the top of the hill. I didn’t see them (any of them) drinking, but I *know* the horses had been, and I really hope the pronghorns are making use of the fresh rainwater, too.
No pix of the pronghorns and the horses together because they were far-ish, and I was still huffing and puffing my way up the hill, and I didn’t stop to offload and unload my pack. So what follows are sightings of the pronghorns after I was up and over the top, with another (second) band.

By the time I got atop the hill and was moving down toward a band of mustangs, I caught sight of one of the pronghorn does already down the broad other side.

My lens swung between horses and pronghorn, and I wondered where the other pronghorn had gone.

But for a while, only the one doe was visible, watching me watch the mustangs (and her).

She eventually went out of sight, and I figured that was the last I’d see of her. … Until she showed up with the second doe, walking not so much toward me but on a trajectory that was going to take them past me a lot closer than they had been. And then the second doe turned to look behind them – definitely NOT at the horses – and I started to wonder what SHE was looking at.

Ah ha! Mister handsome!

This shows his impressive horns better. And despite the fact that males shed the *outer* horns, they are horns, not antlers.
More from Google AI:
The Pronghorn (Antilocapra americana) is North America’s fastest land mammal, capable of reaching speeds up to 55–60 mph.
Physical Characteristics & Speed
Habitat & Range
Diet & Behavior
Pronghorns are fascinating critters. They’re not very widespread here, and there aren’t very many of them. Thankfully, there’s no hunting of pronghorns in our part of Colorado because there just aren’t very many. While I see them fairly often, I think there are only around 30ish. We do have coyotes and golden eagles, but in the open reaches of Disappointment Valley, those likely are their only predators. That said, there don’t ever seem to be *more* of them year to year.
From Wikipedia: “The pronghorn (UK: /ˈprɒŋ.hɔːrn/, US: /ˈprɔːŋ.-/)[4] (Antilocapra americana) is a species of artiodactyl (even-toed, hoofed) mammal indigenous to interior western and central North America. Though not an antelope, it is known colloquially in North America as the American antelope, prong buck, pronghorn antelope, and prairie antelope,[5] because it closely resembles the antelopes of the Old World and fills a similar ecological niche due to parallel evolution.[6] It is the only surviving member of the family Antilocapridae.[7]“
“The pronghorn is the fastest land mammal in the Americas, with running speeds up to 55 mph (88.5 km/h).” And if you’re lucky enough to see them, you can easily believe that. Even at what pronghorns themselves might consider “an easy lope,” they are FAST.

Pronghorns are awesome. 🙂

The last time I highlighted Skywalker, he was high atop the rimrocks, way northwest of these. Now he’s on a hill across a big drainage/arroyo below the rimrocks. The previous rimrock section was facing west; these bands are basically facing south.
Moments before sunset – which was well before 7 p.m. now – and the light was sublime on land and mustang.
They’re chasing the green grass actually growing after the recent rain (we got about three quarters of an inch over the course of about a week; not too bad for us!). So that’s been a lovely outcome from some much-needed and very-much-welcomed rain.

Oh my goodness, Mount Brumley is erupting!

Just kidding. 🙂
That’s Brumley Point (it *looks* like an old volcano, doesn’t it?), and that’s not smoke, it’s a giant cloud, positioned juuuuuuuust so.

Rowan tried to help me illustrate the illusion, but we weren’t quite in the right alignment by then.
This might have been better as an April 1 post, but it’s October. Happy … *FALL*! 🙂

Winona really thinks she can hide, I think. … Until I find her, that is, and she knows she’s found, and seen. She doesn’t know she’s loved, but that’s OK. 🙂

‘Tis the season for tarantulas to look for mates, and this little fellow (they’re the ones who do the looking) was crossing Disappointment Road recently on just such a mission.

I stopped for a hopeful introduction (not like THAT!), but he was singleminded in his search, and clearly, my giant blue and yellow-leather glove did not at all look like what he was looking for. 🙂
According to the Google machine:
Every fall, thousands of male Oklahoma brown tarantulas wander across southeastern Colorado to search for mates.
What is Happening
When and Where to Watch
Safety and Facts
*****
I’m glad I didn’t call it a migration! They’re on a *mating trek*. 🙂
I even searched for “Southwest Colorado” tarantulas and got almost the same info as above with this addition: “often called Colorado browns.” And this disclaimer (?): “Tarantula mating season happens every fall in southeastern Colorado (near La Junta and the Comanche National Grassland), rather than in the southwest part of the state.” Um. With all due respect, monsieur Google, they ARE doing the same thing over here, and they do it every year.
It’s a *thing*, and I look forward to seeing the little guys. And while I watch carefully for them on the gravel and paved roads, it’s not always easy to avoid the poor critters. Wherever they are, watch for them and wish them well and lucky in love!
Actually, curious about how long that “luck” extends after mating, I put my musings to Google (aware that it’s already let me down by (as so many do) ignoring Southwest Colorado):
No, female tarantulas do not automatically kill the males after mating, though it absolutely can happen. The idea that a female always eats her mate is a common myth that is often exaggerated.
Whether a male survives depends on a mix of survival mechanics, biology, and timing:
The Mechanics of Survival
During mating, male tarantulas are fully aware of the danger. They have evolved physical adaptations specifically designed to keep them alive:
Why a Female Might Attack
If the male isn’t fast enough, or if the female is highly aggressive, sexual cannibalism does occur:
Ultimately, in the wild, many males successfully escape to find another mate. However, even if they escape the female, a male’s lifespan after reaching maturity is exceptionally short – usually less than a year –as they quickly succumb to exhaustion, predators, or the elements.
*****
I hope that gave you a bit of a chuckle while reading. I particularly appreciated that “the moment he finishes, he releases her and runs away as fast as possible before she can react”! And also, “if the female hasn’t eaten recently, she simply (simply!) views the male as a highly convenient food source”! I mean … the ladies are definitely at the top of the tarantula world, eh?!
*****
Hurricane Polo finally came through for us here in Southwest Colorado (speaking of being ignored, I watched a Denver weather woman nearly completely ignore us while talking about the rain coming into Colorado from Arizona and New Mexico via the hurricane; the closest she got was a brief mention of “the San Juans,” the mountain range east of our actual southwestern-most corner; she absolutely ignored the Western Slope and northwestern Colorado).
The soft, gentle, “female” rain as the Diné (Navajo) call it is an absolute godsend. Maybe it will still give us some growth this fall. … We can hope (we’re pretty good at hope here in the Southwest :)).

Yes! That’s rain! That’s a kestrel in the rain! And if you look closely, you can see some raindrops bouncing off his shoulder.
What a gorgeous little splash of feathery autumn orange on a dreary – and utterly, gloriously WET – day!
Thank you, Hurricane Polo!

About a week ago, I was out with Flash’s band. They were browsing, and I was trying to catch a pic of them among the flowering chamisa (rabbitbrush), but no one was cooperating with heads high enough to see at least eyes. … I mean, didn’t they know I was trying to take *pictures*?! 🙂 (Tis the season of rabbitbrush in the low country, which gives us our fall color as opposed to the showy aspen of the high country and the cottonwoods along the riparian ways.) Flash browsed along with them, until he sort of purposely marched off.

Not far away, he stopped, then turned back to look at his mares.
And I think he was saying, “Time to go for water, ladies.”
But the ladies were not done browsing, and not one of them paid him any mind at all.

He came back … went away again … still ignored. Interestingly, he seemed to want them to follow, and he never did move them (snake them) ahead. He waited, patiently (?), and I slipped away to leave them to their browsing and water-finding (they were immediately east of a deep-and-wide drainage).

Sweet, beautiful old (she’s not really thaaat old – 18) Gaia looking glam with her single, thick braid. Lovely darling girl.

Once again, Chipeta let the band wander away (they weren’t too far ahead of her), then put on a spurt of the dramatics as she trotted her way back to them in the brief light from the almost-setting sun in a little open cloud window against a stormy sky to the south.
One of those lucky catches by the camera before she was obscured by the trees between us. 🙂