Ceratiomyxa's Starring Role

Day 232: Yesterday marked the first day that I worked with the film crew from Oregon Field Guide for a segment featuring slime molds. I was rather concerned that the stars of the show would fail to appear, because only last Friday, I went on a concerted search for slimes in the area and found nothing but a collapsed colony of Lycogala epidendrum. It didn't bode well. When I arrived at our meeting location, the cinematographer (Stephanie) was already there and had begun getting her gear out. I took advantage of the time we had before Ian was due to arrive to explore the immediate area, and was delighted when I found a large patch of Ceratiomyxa fruticulosa var. poroides, perhaps my favourite of all slime molds. I reported back to Stephanie that the team wouldn't have to return to Portland skunked. After Ian arrived, they moved their gear to the site and we began filming. I seized a moment while Stephanie was using a Probe lens to capture this photo of her and Ceratiomyxa. We found a small grouping of Lycogala nearby, providing a second species for the documentary. Later in the day, we picked a quiet spot in the woods for the "interview" portion of the segment where Ian and Stephanie both grilled me with questions about slime molds and my interest in them. Today, we resume our search in a different spot. Wish us luck!

Lycogala Epidendrum

Day 215: Slime mold season has begun! Admittedly, this is a very small grouping of very small Lycogala epidendrum aethalia, but I was thrilled when I found it. Why? Because the director of an Oregon PBS film crew contacted me six months ago to find out if I would be interested in participating in a feature on slime molds. Even after I had explained that slime molds operate on their own schedule and the stars of the show might not appear on a timely basis, we agreed on a window in early to mid-June when they'd be most likely to appear. I will be monitoring this particular cluster closely in the hopes that all of the participants (slime molds, film crew and I) can come to an agreement on date and time.

Lycogala was the first slime mold to be described taxonomically, never mind that Carl Linnaeus initially called it "Lycoperdon" in 1753 because he believed it to be fungal in nature. The aethalia do somewhat resemble small Puffballs if you dyed them salmon-pink, but in fact they are masses of sporangia (fruiting bodies). If you squish a Lycogala bump when it's fresh, it liberates pink goo, protoplasm in which many cellular nuclei are present and potentially joining by fusion as part of the reproductive process. If allowed to mature, the aethalia turn brown and crack open to release thousands of spores, the next generation of the species. Lycogala epidendrum is commonly known as "Wolf's-milk," but before you open your mouth to ask why, let me say that some things must remain mysteries or life would be very boring indeed.

Lycogala Growing, Going, Gone

Day 253: Lycogala epidendrum (commonly known as "Wolf's-milk") was the first slime mold ever to be described botanically, and I say "botanically" with some reservation. Linnaeus could be excused for thinking it was a fungus; indeed, he initially called it "Lycoperdon" to include it with puffballs, but modern science is equipped with better tools. We now understand that slime molds are a very different breed of cat from any other form of life, although like all fertile living things, they reproduce, or at least are capable of reproduction. They begin their lives as single cells, able to move about in an amoeba-like fashion. At this stage, they can reproduce by means of cell division, asexually, but when they encounter a cell of the proper mating type, they may fuse and reproduce via nuclear division (as opposed to cell division). Given ideal conditions, they will then form fruiting bodies like these. A fresh Lycogala is pinkish-orange. As the fruiting body matures, it darkens and dries out (middle photo), then ruptures, releasing thousands of unicellular spores to start the process over again (lower photo).

In a well-publicized quote from slime mold expert John Tyler Bonner, he explains the unusual nature of Myxomycetes: (they are) "no more than a bag of amoebae encased in a thin slime sheath, yet they manage to have various behaviours that are equal to those of animals who possess muscles and nerves with ganglia - that is, simple brains." They're out there. They're breeding. Are you really sure you want to go for a walk in the woods today?

Lycogala Log

Day 231: Lycogala epidendrum ("Wolf's-milk") is a slime mold, despite its resemblance to a fungus. What is the difference? Well, a fungus is a single life-form. What we see and call a "mushroom" is its fruiting body. The main part of its structure is in the soil or other substrate, i.e., the mycelium, and that "body" may extend for a surprising distance. On the other hand, a slime mold is a group of single-celled organisms which have come together to feed and breed in response to chemical signals transmitted by others of their kind. Unlike the mushrooms in your collection basket, slime molds are capable of movement. They are also capable of communication in the form of those chemical signals I just mentioned, and they are capable of cooperation. This places them in a unique position cladistically, having at some point branched off from the Archaea to follow their own evolutionary path as the bacteria went the other way. Although the terms Protist and Protoctista are now considered obsolete, slime molds can be referred to as "protists" because their cellular structure is unlike that of plants, animals or fungi. Many of them spend most of their lives within their chosen substrate, as does the Ceratiomyxa of yesterday's post. I suspect that Lycogala behaves in a similar fashion because I find it in the same locations year after year. It emerges only during its breeding time. A "spent" colony can be seen as a black mass above the fresh pink "fruit" in this photo.

Lycogala Epidendrum, Wolf's-Milk Slime Mold

Day 234: We put up the platform tents in Longmire Campground last Saturday, and Kevin wanted to make a time-exposure video of the process. He started to set his cell phone down on a stump, but discovered it was occupied. As I walked down the road, he said, "Come with me. I have something to show you." He pointed at a group of salmon-orange bumps and asked, "Are they a lichen or a fungus?" I replied with a laugh, "Neither! That's a slime mold." In fact, it was Lycogala epidendrum, also known (for some bizarre reason) as "Wolf's-milk" which, as slime molds go, is one of the most common species worldwide. I know of two locations where it occurs in Longmire now, this being the second one.

As a species, Lycogala was first classified by Linnaeus, the father of taxonomy. He called it "Lycoperdon" because he thought it was a puffball mushroom. We now know that it isn't a fungus at all, but a unique lifeform which some felt necessitated recognition of a separate biological kingdom, the Protists/Protoctista. At the time of this writing, this classification is considered obsolete, and further parsing of kingdoms is the subject of on-going research. Slime molds might well be the puzzle of the century!

Lycogala Epidendrum

Day 237: While exploring a forgotten but close-by corner of the forest last year, I stumbled across something which looked for all the world like a quart or two of well-chewed pink bubblegum wads massed on a decaying log. I had never seen anything like it, so I documented it with photos from various angles and referred them out to one of Washington's pre-eminent botanists. Although he was unwilling to commit to anything further, he identified the substance as a slime mold and provided me with the email address of an expert in the field. It wasn't long before I had a reply and a name for my treasure: Lycogala epidendrum.

Lycogala epidendrum is one of the most recognizable of slime mold species, but it is not always pink. The fruiting bodies (aethelia) may range in colour from pale yellow to almost black at maturity, and indeed that was what Team Biota discovered when we visited the site recently. When opened, these aethelia appear to be filled with uniformly mushy goo, but under the microscope, this material is shown to contain thousands of spores and chain-like threads of sterile tissue (pseudocapillitia) which divide the chamber into irregular and often imperfect compartments. The term "fruiting bodies" is misleading. Unlike the apothecia of lichens, these structures do not develop like a bud on a rose or a pear on a pear-tree. Rather, they are a gathering-together of individual cells in response to a chemical signal, cells which otherwise would be living independently in the substrate. The chemical signal acts as their clarion call, communicating the message that it is time to reproduce. They become visible to our eyes only when they have formed the cooperating communities shown in this photo.

I suppose none of my friends will be surprised by this, but I couldn't resist the opportunity to do an experiment. In a corner of my living room, I have set up a pair of "moist chambers" (lidded Petri dishes) where I can monitor the growth of two samples. If I should disappear under mysterious circumstances, Lycogala should be considered the primary "substance of interest."

Freaky Fungus - Lycogala Epidendrum

Day 204: There are some truly strange things out there in the woods, and if I hadn't gone exploring on my lunch break today despite the rain, I might never have found this ephemeral jewel. I'm not going out very far on the limb when it comes to making an identification because I'm clearly out of my depth. That said, I will make an informed guess (operative word being "guess") in defining this particular specimen as a species of Trichia, a Slime Mold, and possibly Trichia botrytis, or Orange Drops. Whatever it is, it looked for all the world to me like someone had stuck wads of orange-pink bubblegum all over a mossy, rotting log, colonies of the fungus occurring every few inches over an area approximately 1' x 3'. Needless to say, I called our Plant Ecologist out of his office to have a look, and the two of us poked and prodded it sufficiently to learn that it was very soft and gelatinous, and the interior was filled with a watery goo of the same colour. Arnie admitted he had no idea what it was beyond a slime mold. I will be attempting to find someone who can confirm or reject my tentative identification.

Footnote: My thanks go out to Angela Mele for identifying this as Lycogala epidendrum. She adds that it was "the first species of slime mold ever put into print, in the mid 1500's in a German herbarium."