It’s a crisp night in the rugged mountains above Los Angeles following the first rains of fall.

This is the night of the lustful tarantula — and it’s filled with peril.

Every year, male tarantulas strike out from their burrows in search of a lover. Finding one can be fatal, whether she’s in the mood or not. Females are known to snack on their suitors.

“If the female is not receptive, you better run,” said Rodrigo Monjaraz Ruedas, assistant curator of entomology for the Natural History Museum of L.A. County. “Even if the female is receptive and they mate — after they mate, the male needs to be really fast and sneaky because otherwise the female can also eat the male as well.”

In California, October is typically a prime mating month for the bulky, hirsute spiders. Natural cues are key, with autumn’s initial precipitation generally triggering the march. Experts suspect males are following pheromones to hunkered-down females.

While the arachnids inhabit areas such as the Angeles National Forest and Santa Monica Mountains year-round, mating season — when the males are on the move — offers the best opportunity to spot one. It runs from about July through November, and nighttime just after a rain is an ideal time to scout for the eight-legged critters.

All is fair in love and war

A tarantula love act begins with a courtship ritual. That might entail the male tapping on the ground or the female’s web and — if she’s receptive — she’ll respond in kind.

Because of the risk involved, male tarantulas use hook-like structures on their first pair of legs to hold the female during coitus, according to Monjaraz Ruedas. Another set of appendages, called pedipalps, are used to transfer sperm.

A single act can produce hundreds of baby tarantulas — adorably called spiderlings — though many don’t survive in the wild.

Meet your local spiders

There are 10 species of tarantulas roaming the Golden State, including at least two that can be found in L.A. County.

The county’s most common variety is the California ebony tarantula, or Aphonopelma eutylenum, which can range from light beige to their namesake color. The female’s leg span can reach up to five inches.

There’s also the desert-dwelling Aphonopelma iodius, often found in the Mojave.

California is home to more than 1,300 species of spiders, and about 40% of all of the nation’s spiders live in the state. As Monjaraz Ruedas put it, “that’s a lot of species.”

What about those fangs?

Flip around a tarantula so it’s belly up and you’ll be met with sizable fangs.

Like almost all spiders, tarantulas have venom. They use it to eat. However, it doesn’t pose a threat to humans, according to Monjaraz Ruedas, who likened it to the strength of bee venom.

Typically, a spooked tarantula will try to run and hide, said Lisa Gonzalez, program manager of invertebrate living collections at the county Natural History Museum.

“They’re really not very bitey animals,” she said. “And I can say this with confidence because I’ve been working with spiders since I was a little girl.”

But there is another defense mechanism. A spider can flick off irritating hairs from the backside of its abdomen, which feel like fiberglass or minute cactus spines.

A tarantula at the museum named Taco, recently brought out for educational purposes, initiated the behavior after gamely posing for the cameras for a while.

In contrast, some parts of the tarantula feel almost like sable fur.

“They’re soft like kitties,” Gonzalez said.

Pitfalls of city living

A male tarantula crosses a gravel road late in the evening on the Southern Plains Land Trust Heartland Ranch Nature Preserve near Lamar, Colo.

(Helen H. Richardson /MediaNews Group / The Denver Post via Getty Images)

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Urbanization poses dangers for local tarantulas during mating season, according to Monjaraz Ruedas. On their quest to find mates, males can drown in backyard pools or get flattened on busy roads.

“But in general mountains represent good habitat for them,” he said, “so they can survive really well in those areas.”

Hankering to see the real deal?

Tarantulas can be spotted in the wild — or, for now, at the Natural History Museum.

Through November, the museum features an open-air spider pavilion, a ticketed exhibit that allows visitors to walk amid hundreds of spiders known as orb weavers and their intricate webs. There are also enclosed habitats with species including tarantulas.

Produced by Nick Donofrio, Gabriel Gianordoli, Maridelis Morales Rosado, Andrew Sondern and Rebecca Thomas.

Images: Pan Plates AS12-47-6982 to 7006 (assembled) via NASA; Pan Plates AS12-46-6836 to 6844 (assembled) via NASA; AS11-40-5912 via NASA; AS11-40-5877 via NASA; S62-06021 via NASA; Lovell and Haise via NASA; AS11-40-5850 via NASA; AS11-40-5903 via NASA; “Illustrated Astronomical Treatise,” via Khalili Collections; “Sidereus Nuncius (Starry Messenger),” via DeAgostini/Getty Images; “​​Astronomical Observations: the Moon,” via Vatican Museums; “Lunar Daguerreotype,” via NYU Special Collections; “The Moon, New York, January 8, 1865,” via Princeton University Art Museum and Museum purchase, bequest of John W. H. Simpson, Class of 1966; “Full Moon. From Negatives Taken by Prof. H. Draper, With His Silvered Glass Telescope,” via The J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles; “Group of Lunar Mountains, 1885,” via The J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles; AS11-44-6551 via NASA; AS12-46-6716 via NASA; AS12-49-7242 via NASA; Pan Plates AS12-47- 6982 to 7006 via NASA; AS12-49-7278 via NASA; AS11-40-5880 via NASA; “Le Voyage Dans la Lune,” by Georges Méliès; “Woman in the Moon,” via U.F.A/Alamy; “Untitled (Moon Image),” via Vija Celmins and Matthew Marks Gallery; “Le Voyage Dans la Lune,” via Gallica Digital Library; “The Starry Night,” via Museum of Modern Art; AS12-50-7371 via NASA; AS16-117-18841 via NASA; AS12-49-7207 via NASA.

A Los Angeles County judge ordered the owners of a troubled metal recycling facility to pay $2 million in penalties and permanently cease operations next door to a Watts high school, ending decades-long fears over industrial pollution and dangerous mishaps.

S&W Atlas Iron & Metal had processed scrap metal in Watts since 1949, shredding and baling aluminum cans, steel rims and copper wire. Over that time, students and staff at Jordan High School complained that the facility’s operations coated their campus in toxic dust, occasionally pelted outdoor areas with shrapnel and disrupted classes with explosions.

Atlas, along with its father-and-son owners Gary and Matthew Weisenberg, were arraigned two years ago on numerous criminal charges in connection with illegal dumping and handling of hazardous waste from July 2020 and August 2022. A little more than a year later, a compressed gas canister ignited at the scrap yard, causing a fiery explosion on the first day of school, after which the district attorney’s office filed additional charges against the defendants.

The company and the Weisenbergs eventually pleaded no contest to several charges.

During sentencing on Oct. 21, L.A. County Superior Court Judge Terry Bork directed the company to shut down the scrap yard for good and sign a land covenant that would prohibit future recycling on the site. The owners were also placed on two years of probation and must perform 200 hours of community service.

Bork also ordered Atlas to pay $2 million in fines and penalties, including $1 million in restitution to Los Angeles Unified School District. In addition, Atlas will be required to give the school district and city of L.A. the first opportunity to purchase the property, if it decides to sell.

“This sentencing delivers long-overdue justice to a community that has lived in the shadow of this dangerous facility for generations,” L.A. County Dist. Atty. Nathan Hochman said in a statement. “For too long, children at Jordan High School and families in Watts were put at risk by a company that placed profits over safety. My office will continue to hold accountable any business that endangers our children or our communities.”

An attorney and public relations firm representing the Weisenbergs did not respond to a request for comment.

The sentence concludes a long-running saga of dangerous mishaps and close calls in and around school grounds.

In 2002, in perhaps one of the most ignominious episodes, the recycling center was dismantling Navy artillery shells — that were supposedly inert — when one exploded and a chunk of metal launched onto Jordan High’s campus. No one at the school was hurt, but one person visiting the Atlas yard suffered a minor injury.

L.A. Unified School officials urged the court to impose “a strong and appropriate” sentence that would deter future environmental hazards.

“For decades, Jordan High School students and educators have borne the consequences of Atlas’ reckless disregard for safety,” an L.A. Unified School District spokesperson said in a statement. Accountability is essential to ensure this community is not subjected to any further harm.”

Earlier this week, Supt. Alberto Carlvaho echoed those sentiments.

“For far too long, our students and educators in Watts have carried the burden of others’ negligence, yet they have met every challenge with strength, grace and unity,” Carvalho said in a statement on social media. “Schools must always be sanctuaries, free from environmental harm. Environmental justice is educational justice, and Los Angeles Unified remains unwavering in our commitment to a safer, healthier future for every student.”

As an additional requirement of the sentence, Atlas must conduct an environmental cleanup of the site as mandated by the Department of Toxic Substances Control. School district officials expect the grounds to contain elevated levels of lead, which can cause permanent cognitive impairments in children.

Timothy Watkins, president of Watts Labor Community Action Committee, had mixed emotions when hearing of the court decision. On one hand, he said, he’s glad that Atlas is finally closing. But, he worries the devastating effects of lead from Atlas may have inflicted a lasting harm to generations of children that cannot be undone.

“Atlas Metal created a wound in the community, and salt goes into that wound every day it remains contaminated,” Watkins said. “Who says they are going to clean it to the extent that it needs to be clean? And even if they do, they still have profited from the exploitation of our community.”

For the last several months, the neighborhood has been much quieter. The scrap yard ceased operating in May. Atlas workers dismantled a makeshift wall of shipping containers between the scrap yard and school, which was intended to prevent sharp metal shards and other debris from flying onto the school yard.

Watkins said the community will continue to be involved until the environmental risks are gone.

“We’re not done,” he said. “By no means are we finished.”