The cool people over at Bird and Moon have produced a super-cool quiz on identifying poison ivy. How reliably can you identify this rash-giving plant? I got a 46/55, post your results in the comments!
Click the image to go to the quiz!
This story is both amazing and inspiring – an enormous stick-insect, considered extinct since the 1960s, has a fascinating story of re-discovery and hope for the future.
Read the story by NPR writer Robert Krulwich HERE or click on the image of the INSANELY GIGANTOR insects to read!!
Image via Rod Morris/www.rodmorris.co.nz
There’s a little patch of bright green grass I’ve found, hidden by a surrounding of junipers.
Tonight I sat there in the perfect cool of a vernal Central Oregon evening as the light faded.
Scrub jay, quail, meadowlark.
Robin. Cow mooing. Sparrows.
Crickets, quail. The gentle coo of a mourning dove.
A far-away Great Horned Owl, only twice.
A Red-Tailed Hawk is sitting on a powerline post that reaches high into the air. He screams, responding to a distant relative. The second appears, alights beside him, and they scream at each other until the first flies off. The second continues to call, perhaps displeased at the dog, who is wandering about quite contentedly, sniffing the bases of tall plants and short trees. He is never so at peace as when he is in open space; he requires a certain kind of freedom to be truly satisfied and I find that it is the same kind I deny myself because of all the things I “have to do.”
A magpie drifts by silently. Thunderclouds move in. I put a yarrow leaf between my front teeth, but it’s older now and too bitter. The golden currants are still covered in veiny, green bulbs; I wonder what chance I have of beating the birds to a single ripe berry. Crescent deer tracks are everywhere, but I still haven’t seen them. I watch for them carefully, though, because the dog loses all mind and goes pure instinct when he spots one.
He runs laps as we head back, kicking up the loose, dusty ash that is the substrate here. A quote by Rumi comes to mind: I am the dust that dances in the light.
Nature + Art = Nart
(Just for your future reference.)
Check this out:
Images via Cabinet Magazine (cabinetmagazine.org)
What you’re looking at is one very awesome aquatic macroinvertebrate (an invertebrate large enough to be seen without a microscope) called the caddisfly (Trichoptera) in its larval stage. You’ve probably seen caddisfly adults if you’ve ever been around a freshwater lake or stream at night: they’re nocturnal, delicate, mothy-looking insects that are easily attracted to light. According to NC State University’s entomology resources, they may go that entire period (a few weeks) without eating, which I think is pretty neato.
Depending on the species, caddisflies may spend several months to two years in the larval stage before pupating into adults. During that time, it uses a special silk secreted from glands near its mouth to build a protective case out of debris on the stream bed. It can then drag this amazing little piece of architecture around like a hermit crab carrying a shell. The larvae eat a variety of items depending on species, including detritus, algae, other tiny invertebrates, and – now this is super cool – some may ingest the eggs of the highly toxic rough-skinned newt (Taricha granulosa). This newt carries the lethal tetrodotoxin, and according to Brian Gall of Utah State University, caddisfly larvae could be a contributing environmental factor driving the potency of the tetrodotoxin poison.
Now, the photos above obviously aren’t your typical northern American stream bed debris. These incredible cases were constructed by caddisflies given precious metals and stones by French artist Hubert Duprat. As a boy, Duprat lived in the countryside and was a naturalist at heart, raising aquatic critters in aquaria and later developing an interest in geology. These two passions came together in experiments where caddisfly larva were given these new, precious materials with which to build their cases, and the above photos can give you a taste of the results. The original article is interesting and definitely worth a read – check it out at Leonardo online. The authors cite another interesting little article (you can download the PDF here) where Charles T. Brues makes an observation in 1930 that some caddisfly cases were constructed partially with tiny blue opals (which were far less numerous than grains of sand or other available materials) from the stream bed, suggesting that the larva were intentionally selecting the “attractive” stones.
While most caddisflies won’t get to use materials considered so precious to humans, they will still go on to construct magnificent structures from stones, leaves, sticks, and more! The next time you’re by a stream, reach in a check under a few rocks – you may get to see one of these awesome little cases.
Image by David Funk of the Stroud Water Research Center
Image via nwnature.net
Image via nwnature.net
As another neato fun-fact, the presence of species like caddisflies and mayflies play a role in indicating the health of a stream.
Click this great fact sheet to learn more about how macroinvertebrates can indicate stream health. Published by the Maryland Department of Natural Resources.
And this one will tell you which types of invertebrates indicate which types of stream health! Also Maryland DNR.
Thanks for reading!
Robin Edds at Student Beans posted a hilarious collection of defiled textbooks, tests, and homeworks by students exhibiting either spite, or trying to get a few extra points for humor. Go here to see the rest and scroll down to see my two favorites (being a nature lover and an anthropologist).
So I have a new favorite thing in the whole world, and it’s NATURE COMICS.
Bird and Moon, run by a fellow nature-lover named Rosemary Mosco, makes my wee naturalist’s heart happy. Did you know that birds have a speed fin?
Also, I’m a little embarrassed by how hard this made me laugh:
Baaaahahahahahaha!
But wait! There’s more!
Rosemary isn’t just funny, she’s intelligent. I love this next one for its educational value:
Hello everyone! I’ve been away a bit (schooling and applying for a program in zoology), but I’m back, and I have some flower photos for you to gaze upon today to rest your weary mind. It’s May Day, the first of May and harbinger of spring (and therefore.. SUMMER!). While folks at my alma mater are running around naked, plants in the lower plains of the sagebrush steppe of Central Oregon to blossom. It’s still cold as all get-out some nights (the peonies are drooping so sadly this morning), but we have that nice blazing sun during the day. Enjoy!
Golden Currant (Ribes aureum)!
More Golden Currant!
The fleeting Sand Lily (Leucocrinum montanum), one of the first flowers of the season.
Backyard crab-apple getting ready to burst forth!
For those of you that may not know, magnolias are one of my all-time favorite blossoms. While none of them grow in Central Oregon, they are abundant just on the other side of the Cascades in Portland, where I’ve been spending a fair amount of time. I managed to grasp just a few images in my travels of the magnificent flowers.
Thanks for visiting and happy Wednesday to you!
Okay, I know I’m the naturalist and all, but I just found this creature in my bathroom and almost fell over. Spiders don’t bother me, wasps don’t bother me, zombies don’t bother me, but THIS thing is somewhere in the middle of all that AND IT BOTHERS ME.
Edit: According to Dan Proud, intrepid invertebrate explorer, here’s what we’re looking at:
[These animals are incredible! They are arachnids, like spiders, but belong to the order Solifugae (formerly Solpugida). They are commonly called sun spiders, camel spiders, wind scorpions or sun scorpions. However, they are neither spiders nor scorpions!
There are many myths regarding the size and speed of these animals. They are quite fast for invertebrates but they tend to move in short bursts of speed and cannot sustain top speeds (roughly 10mph). There are only slightly more than 1000 species known, they are mainly nocturnal and most live in dry, arid desert or semi-desert environments, perhaps explaining why few people know of them.
You should definitely read more about them – here’s a good website: http://www.solpugid.com/Introduction.htm]
So there you have it. Still terrifying though.
Check out Dan’s awesome site here!
A peak at Vision Quest camp 2012, hosted by Four Winds Foundation, dedicated to continuing the traditional ways of our ancestors. Learn more at http://www.fwfoundation.com!
On a blazing hot Sunday several weeks ago, I visited one of the most amazing spots in Central Oregon, a state park called Smith Rock State Park. It’s a haven for rock climbers, as tall cliff faces shoot into the air at steep angles and varying sizes. For hikers like me, it’s a spot of sagebrush steppe with meandering trails and an array of plants and critters that can keep one occupied all day. It was a beautiful day in the rocks and always an education: as I sat on a sun-baked rock enjoying my lunch, I glanced down to see that I had chosen a spot which ants had chosen long before me. I’d disturbed their home, and they were haphazardly scurrying across both of my feet and up my legs. I leapt into the air, squawking and dancing and stomping like a madwoman. It’s a shame I don’t have it on video. After apologizing profusely for killing several of their tribesmen in my surprise and panic, I offered them a hunk of my lunch. They examined it and, after deeming it unworthy, returned to their subterranean home. Apparently ants don’t care for fried fish.
One of my favorite things about dogs is that they are happy to visit just about anywhere – desert, beach, forest, whatever. They are eternally up for adventure.
The beautiful carvings of beetles.
I have decided that the doggie backpack is an essential item for the owner of high-energy dogs. A few hot hours carrying his own water around and he’ll sleep for the rest of the day.
Smith Rock’s craggy peaks and thirsty slopes.
The sun shines through waxy Oregon Grape leaves and the air is thick with the perfume of the plant’s tiny yellow flowers. Drunk on nectar, bees float heavily from bush to bush.
This is the first time I’ve gotten to see Curl Leaf Mountain Mahogany in bloom in person! The flowers are utterly tiny and easy to miss, but upon close inspection they’re actually quite beautiful and fragrant. This is a tree of serious drought tolerance, a very cool species.
Another shot of the Mountain Mahogany.
