Rebuilding A Civilization

Day 233: I promise this will be my last post of Ceratiomyxa for a while, but this is worth note. I don't know what I expected when I returned to the site less than 24 hours later, but a complete and even more elegant rebuilding of the civilization was not on the short list. I'm sure one of those minor "earthquakes" shaking Washington's seismographs was caused by my jaw hitting the forest floor. Not only had the Ceratiomyxa regenerated, it had done so in true "Doctor Who" style, retaining elements of its former persona while simultaneously establishing its own individual mark. The pillars built by the cooperating cells had become even more elaborate and textured than when I had first seen it, a greater and more glorious Phoenix arising from the ashes of its former existence. The solitary Lycogala nub in the midst of its metropolis even seemed to be drawing some sustenance and substance from the association. It was, in fact, the only remaining pink/orange member of the dozens of others I surveyed. The rest had turned brown. I regret not putting a measuring stick up against the specimen because my readers undoubtedly have misjudged the size of this magnificent slime mold. The largest mound would measure no more than 4 mm and the individual hexagonal compartments of the structure 0.05 mm at the very largest. This mass in the photo frame measures roughly 7 mm wide by 18 mm high.

Update: I am pleased to report that this occurrence of Ceratiomyxa was the first reported on Park property. The Park's official slime mold species count is now 54.