Not A Clue!

Day 17: Whatever they are, there are a lot of them growing on the decaying hawthorn stump alongside my prized bioluminescent Carbon Antlers. Something has nibbled the tops of a few caps (mouse, I suspect) and may now be regretting that it failed to heed the most essential advice for mushroomers: "Unless you are 110% sure of the identification, do not eat it." And further, just because another mammal can consume a certain mushroom, it does not necessarily follow that it is safe for a human to eat. Different critters' digestive systems contain different enzymes and can process alkaloids which might be poisonous to a human. For example, deer and elk eat several Amanita species which can cause long-term damage to human livers and kidneys. Some might say that I am over-cautious when it comes to 'shrooms. I remind them that there is a good reason one mycological society referred to its annual dinner as the "Survivors' Banquet."

Xylaria Hypoxylon, Carbon Antlers

Day 3: First of all, conditions have to be perfect for Xylaria hypoxylon to bioluminesce. It can't be too warm or too cold. The humidity has to be just right. And above all, it has to be dark if you want to see it happen. If everything is just Goldilocks-right, a light tap of Carbon Antlers with a small stick or a finger will produce a tiny and brief dot of blue light, or at least that's my experience with the group which fruits on an old hawthorn stump in my back yard. I've only witnessed it a few times (the first, entirely and surprisingly by accident), and have never been able to capture the fairy-lantern will-o'-the-wisp blink with the camera. Despite that, it pleases me to know that I have a bioluminescent fungus so close at hand.

Xylaria Hypoxylon, Carbon Antlers

Day 10: Right in my own back yard! None of my field guides mentioned the fact that Xylaria hypoxylon is a bioluminescent fungus. I only encountered the information by accident while searching the internet for other data on the species. Although the sky had begun to lighten, I thought it might still be possible to observe the phenomenon since they were growing on a rotting hawthorn stump in a dark corner of the yard. I ran out, grabbed a small stick en route to use as a probe, and tapped the tips of the horns gently. I was not disappointed. Tiny pinpoints of blue light appeared where I had disturbed them, fading after a few seconds. I will be repeating the experiment in full darkness, for sure! I have only observed bioluminescence once before, during a kayaking trip on Puget Sound, and that given off by algae was green as opposed to the blue of this fungus. Xylaria hypoxylon is known commonly as Carbon Antlers or Candlesnuff Fungus, and occurs only on rotting wood. What a thrill!

Xanthoria Polycarpa Unhomed

Day 185: This comes under the category of Great Sadnesses. I didn't know I had Xanthoria polycarpa growing on the hawthorn tree when I asked Joe to take it out, although it probably wouldn't have changed my decision to remove it. I'd planted the hawthorn when I first moved in here, asked by the friend who provided it if I was really sure I wanted one but not understanding her concern. It was only later that I found out how invasive the damn things can be, but by then, the tree was fifteen feet tall with several trunks as thick as my upper arm. To make matters worse, it was shading out one end of my grapevine. Joe said he was willing to take it down, and to that end, showed up yesterday morning with his chainsaw. As you know from my previous post, most of the morning and early afternoon were spent enlarging my garden space. It was after noon by the time we got to the tree, and both of us were experiencing the aches incumbent with hard work. Still, Joe started on the tree but the intertwined branches made for slow going. We called it quits when the job was two-thirds done. He'll be back to finish it off later (I've promised not to put him to work digging again, not this year anyway), but as we were hauling away the branches, I spotted the poor unhomed Xanthoria, collateral damage. It's not an uncommon lichen, but I love the colour. I hope the grape appreciates the sacrifice.

Haven In The Hawthorn

Day 94: You'd think Robin Red-Breast would freeze his little gizzard gulping down icy hawthorn berries, but as I watched, this bird swallowed at least half a dozen, rolling them around in his beak to knock off the larger bits of ice. It was party time in the hawthorn, Robins competing with Steller's Jays for their breakfast fruit. Oddly, the birds leave the tree alone until the temperatures plummet. Perhaps these berries are the avian slant on frozen dessert.