Pellia Epiphylla

Day 250: The things we do for science! A week ago, during a Team Biota field exploration into a new pocket ecology, I discovered a liverwort I had not seen in the Park previously. The area where it occurred was what I describe in my journal as "down in a hole," i.e., in a brushy minor drainage lined with tangled young alder, under fairly well closed canopy (read, "in a dark bit of forest"). I prefer not to use flash when photographing my subjects and, to tell the truth, the option never crossed my mind. Instead, I laid my pack on the wet ground and braced the camera against it. Shooting a long exposure resulted in a less-than-clear image of the tiny sporangia (spore capsules, inset). I did think to take a sample which I examined under the microscope at home to determine that my new liverwort was Pellia epiphylla. That said, I wanted better pictures, so day before yesterday, I returned to the hole alone in the rain. The mosquitoes had hatched in droves, and while I knelt in the wet taking pictures, they attacked through the open space at the back of my brim cap. I got better photos of Pellia, but the few fragile, thread-like setae and sporangia which remained had been beaten down by the rain. It looks like another trip to the hole is on next year's calendar...with bug spray.

Penny Perspectives - Chickweed Monkeyflower

Day 213: Most hikers in the Pacific Northwest will be familiar with the larger pink or yellow Monkeyflowers which often line the banks of our streams, their open faces telling the story of how their common name came into existence. Just as common but less well-known is tiny Chickweed Monkeyflower which begins blooming in late spring and persists throughout the summer, better adapted to dry soil than its larger relatives. Shown here in a Penny Perspective, Erythranthe alsinoides will be listed as Mimulus alsinoides in all but the most recent field guides. The distinction came about when molecular studies showed that Erythranthe followed a separate evolutionary line from Mimulus, and thus it was removed from the family Scrophulariaceae and placed instead in Phyrmaceae. While this informational tidbit in no way affects our enjoyment of the smiling "monkey faces" in our meadows, the reclassification demonstrates that science is always moving forward, toward a better understanding of the world around us.

Why It Goes

Day 143: I hadn't really thought to make a series of this, but since yesterday was "Who," today I bring you "Why," as in "Why do the vanes in a radiometer spin when it is exposed to light?"

The widespread notion that the rotor is impelled as photons strike the white sides and are absorbed by the black is not scientifically accurate. Were it so, the spin would always be in one direction: away from the black faces. Stick a radiometer in a sunny window until the rotor is spinning rapidly and then move it to a cooler bright location; you will soon prove that this is not the case, although some pressure is definitely supplied by radiation. In actuality, the amount of vacuum within the radiometer is critical, and it is the transfer of heat in this partial vacuum which supplies the action. As the vanes heat, the radiometer spins in one direction, and as it cools, the spin reverses. Try it! These cool science toys are readily available on the internet and at the very least, will make your guests ask why you have a non-lighting lightbulb in your window.

The Acrobat

Day 111: Colaptes auratus cafer (Red-Shafted/Northern Flicker) knows how to strike a balance. This handsome "woodpecker" uses its tail in a manner Olympic gymnasts could rightfully envy. Not only does it employ it as a counterweight, but also for leverage. Here at one of my feeders, Flicker executes a yoga-style "upward dog" in order to peck at a suet cake, using the stiff tail to push against the base of the box. This action lessens the amount of grip needed by its talons, and the bird can dine at leisure. "For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction." Flicker beat Newton to the punch by centuries!

Lichen Basics

Day 106: This is the type of dry reading you're likely to see on official NPS pages from here on out, but at least it's science.

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Those of us who live in the Pacific Northwest are fortunate to have a wide variety of lichen species in our forests. Although lichens appear in almost every geographic region of North America, the leafier types are more abundant on the northwest and northeast coasts. Many of them are mistakenly called "mosses," but in fact they are complex symbiotic organisms. One of the most exciting revelations in the field of lichenology occurred this year when a third component was identified in the classic "fungus/algae" pairing: yeast. Let's look more closely at some common PNW lichens and learn a little of the specialized terminology which describes them.

There are three basic types of lichen: foliose, fruticose and crustose. Foliose ("FOH-lee-ose") lichens are "leafy" (think "foliage"). Platismatia (upper left) is an excellent example. Fruticose ("FROO-ti-cose") lichens are bushy or shrubby, or have a three-dimensional structure which often includes round stalks topped by cups or knobs. The photo in the upper right shows an example of Cladonia, a classic fruticose family.

Sometimes, it is difficult to assign a lichen to a specific category. The lower left image shows a Hypogymnia. The Hypogymnias are classified as "foliose-fruticose." The last type of lichen is called crustose ("CRUST-ose"), and as you might guess, it forms a crust which adheres tightly to trees and rocks. Crustose lichens often exhibit small fruiting bodies such as those which appear on Ochrolechia (lower right).

Exploring Strange New Worlds

Day 25: When the mechanical stage arrived yesterday, it occurred to me that although I've featured photos of what I've seen through the new microscope so far, I hadn't properly introduced my new toy. Suffice to say that I am delighted with it, particularly because it allows me to share images with my readers, letting them explore strange new worlds right alongside me.

For those of you who are detail-oriented, it is an AmScope M200. It came with two eyepieces, 10x and 25x. The available magnifications are 40x, 100x, 250x, 400x and 100x (a duplicate occurs when changing eyepieces because 10 x 10 = 4 x 25). The 0.3mp camera which came with the 'scope replaces the eyepiece and seems to give a higher magnification yet, but I am not certain of the factor. Admittedly, that's pretty low-end despite what you might think from the images I've posted so far, and therefore I intend to upgrade to a 2.0-3.0mp camera at some point (maybe a birthday present-to-self). An X-acto knife set serves as my dissecting kit, and of course I have a selection of petri dishes, slides and stains waiting for specimens.

As for the mechanical stage, at high magnification, it is almost impossible to move a slide with any degree of accuracy by hand. The mechanical stage holds the slide firmly and with the twist of a knob, allows it to be moved laterally or side-to-side with precision. The tissue can therefore be centered in the field of view so that when moving to a stronger objective, only minor adjustments need to be made.

Back when I was in high school, this 'scope would have qualified as "professional grade." Technology has put science in the reach of almost everyone, so what are you waiting for? Go exploring!