Wild

It was so dark at the far end of the wild garden this afternoon that I could barely see my hand in front of my face. I was actually contemplating going back to the house and borrowing R's head torch to help me search out subjects, when this opilione made the mistake of revealing itself, by scuttling across the ivy in a flash of ridiculous legs. I wasn't thrilled when it went underneath the leaf, but in the event I think it made for quite an interesting image. Different, at any rate, to my usual shtick.

By dint of turning over the ivy stem with one hand and using the camera with the other, I also took some more descriptive photos, which allow me to identify the victim as Opilio canestrinii - unsurprisingly, because this is the species I most often record here. Remarkably little is known about the habits, or even the origins, of O. canestrinii, but it probably arrived In Europe from Africa. First recorded in Italy around sixty years ago, it spread rapidly across Europe, apparently displacing some other native species on its travels, and turned up in Britain, in the Lea Valley, in 1999. Having rapidly colonised England and South Wales, it reached Scotland in 2011. It favours urban habitats and brown-field sites, and is often found on walls. Adults are most often seen between July and November, with a peak in September, but it's thought that some individuals may manage to overwinter in milder years.

I'm not afraid of harvestmen, because they're entirely harmless, but I admit to having been a tiny bit wary when I was working almost underneath this one, because they're not above dropping on you to hitch a lift, and I've always had a mild fear of "things" getting caught my unruly mop of curly hair. This isn't completely irrational, because things do - after working in the garden I often shed a little trail of leaves, seeds, and bits of old twig through the house - but the idea of having to be disentangled from a living creature makes me go a little wobbly at the knees. I think it's fair to say that after today's photo shoot was completed, O. canestrinii and I parted company with relief on both sides.