Day 233: One expects to find wildlife in the forests of Mount Rainier National Park: cute chipmunks, cheeky squirrels, birds, bats, frogs, marmots and pikas, rangy mountain goats or maybe even a bear or a cougar. None of them inspires me with quite the same admiration/trepidation as the slime molds. That's what I said: slime molds. They are not, as one might suppose at first glance, fungi. These creatures (and "creatures" they truly are) are capable of locomotion, communication and cooperation, and yet they do not fall into any of the standard "animal, plant or fungus" biologic kingdoms. Some refer to them as Protists or Protoctista and lump them together with other undefined organisms, although now those terms are considered obsolete.
Here we have two examples of Leocarpus fragilis, aka "Insect-egg Slime Mold." Its individual members have discovered food sources at these two locations, and word has gone out on the slime-mold grapevine (chemical signals) that it's time to eat and breed. Their amoeba-like cells have gathered together for the event, and are now reproducing. The fruiting bodies have developed and are now visible to the naked eye. When mature, these sporangia will burst, releasing their spores, and a new generation of Leocarpus will have been born. They may be waiting for you out there in the forest, an alternate lifeform looking for easy transport on your boots, your pantlegs, your hands. There are more things in the forest, dear readers, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
