Hoar

Day 48: It's hard to unlearn something when that "knowledge" is deeply ingrained. What I have always referred to as "rime" has been hoarfrost in 95% of all cases, the exception being some of the formations I've seen on wintry alpine mountaintops. What's the difference? Well, here's your chance to join me in practicing my motto: learn something new every day.

True rime is the product of a freezing fog. Hoarfrost is the deposition of ice crystals formed from moisture in the air and occurs in the absence of fog. Rime accumulates when water droplets come into contact with a cold surface. It generally grows toward the prevailing wind. Hoarfrost forms when there is no wind. That said, the literary convention of using "rime" to represent any form of frost is acceptable, but one source says that "compared to rime, hoarfrost forms larger, more delicate crystals, but it is often difficult to tell the two apart; when in doubt 'rime' is never entirely wrong." Still, I'm going to make a point to use the more scientifically accurate semantics from here on out.

Ice Planet

Day 47: "I don't care where we go, just as long as it's warm." Crow took one last look at the frozen Earth as the TARDIS spun into the time stream, ready for any adventure as long as it didn't involve thermal underwear. The Doctor had promised her abundant lichens to study, but something had gone terribly wrong. Instead of landing in an interglacial period, they had come down in a mini-Ice Age. "I suppose I should be grateful for the lack of mosquitoes," she continued. "I didn't really think that through very well. Can we turn up the heat? My toes are still numb."

The only specimen she had been able to retrieve for her collection proved to be identical in all respects to the Cladina mitis of her own time. While it was interesting to note that lichen evolution had apparently reached its acme in this era, and the Cladina was proving to be superbly adapted by surviving without change for thousands of years, the knowledge warmed nothing but the proverbial cockles of her heart. Her hands were blue. Her nose was red. Her hair, already silver, carried a fine sheen of frost. "How about orchids?" she asked. "Mycoheterotrophs? And what are YOU worried about, anyway? The bugs don't like you. It must be that sonic screwdriver, the noise it makes. Gawd, give me Daleks any day over mosquitoes and ticks!"

It could be that the Doctor didn't know what he was letting himself in for when he picked up his latest companion. He'd found her flat-out on the forest floor, magnifying glass in hand and a camera around her neck. He'd asked what she was looking for and she'd replied, "Alien life-forms. They're everywhere." A widely travelled man, he'd taken her figure of speech literally and offered his assistance, something he could hardly withdraw over a minor misunderstanding. When at last she exulted, "Pilophorus! I knew you were around here someplace!" he realized his mistake. Only then did she face him, introducing herself with a grubby handshake. "I'm Crow," she said. "I'm studying lichens."

"I noticed," he replied as casually as he could manage. "And I'm the Doctor. I know a place..."

Tie-Tack Sparrow

Day 46: Summer or winter, Tie-Tack Sparrows are frequently seen at my feeders. Ooops! That would be Song Sparrow, Melospiza melodia, identifiable by the convergence of reddish-brown feathers centrally on the breast, i.e., the "tie-tack" reference in the whimsical name I use for these charming little birds. Novice birders often mistake them for a female Purple Finch, but the tie-tack should end any mystery. Easier to identify by its voice, Song Sparrow is true to its name, singing a complex series of single notes and trills.

Contrary to popular belief, recent observations world-wide are proving that the females of many species are also singers, at least those which live outside urban environments. I can't vouch for Song Sparrow, but there is never a shortage of bird-song in my yard.

Towhee Time

Day 45: It's Towhee season! When the weather turns cold, I can always count on an influx of Spotted (formerly Rufous-Sided) Towhees at my feeders. They like the protection offered by the contorted filbert as do other small birds since fast-flying predators like hawks can't follow them easily into its interior. The tangle of branches all too frequently foils the photographer's lens as well. This morning, I had half a dozen Towhees show up for breakfast. I stood out in the cold waiting until one perched on an outer limb. Thanks, Towhee! Extra seed for you!

Trametes Versicolor, True Turkey-Tail

Day 44: Got your Thanksgiving turkey? I've got the tail! Trametes versicolor is a highly variable species, but it is the one which gives the "turkey-tail" fungi their generic name. It is the one "true" Turkey-Tail; all others are merely capitalizing on its fame. It is quite common in the Pacific Northwest, but there are several look-alikes just waiting to confuse you.

So how do you tell if your turkey-tail is real Turkey-Tail? Why, by putting it through a Turkey-Tail Test, of course! One on-line mycological reference gives the criteria:

1) Does it have pores on the lower surface?
2) Are there 3 or more pores in the span of one millimeter?
3) Is the upper surface velvety or faintly hairy?
4) Is the upper surface some colour other than white or grey?
5) Is the colouration zonal?
6) Is the fungus flexible and thin?

In summary, if you've answered yes to all these questions, the fungus in your hand may be green, brown  or even orange, but it's a Turkey-Tail. Mind those pores, though...put a hand lens and a good ruler in your field kit. You'll need them.

And Happy Turkey-Day from Lichenopolis!

The Spirit Of Adventure

Day 43: The spirit of adventure courses strongly through my veins, never mind that I don't go as far or fast as I once did. Mountains don't have to be 14,000' tall to have an "other side," and bridges still lead to undiscovered worlds where exploration may bring a "life list" lichen to light. I cannot resist the pull of a trail fading into the distance; I must pursue it until I can go no farther, whether turned back by the lateness of the day or by the counsel of my joints. A stump on the horizon becomes a goal, and once attained, another takes its place in a succession of small victories. Driven by an insatiable curiosity, I go no farther than "halfway," the point of stamina which dictates return indisputably, but I am not content until "halfway" has been reached. It is just that which compels me: the bonus of discovery. When the progress of my travel tells me it's time to go home, I always wonder what I might have found if I'd just taken one more step.

Usnea Faerie

Day 42: Look closely, and you may see a Lichen Sprite among the strands of Usnea longissima beside Rainey Creek, an avatar of Nature husbanding her charges with love and kindness. Like the Usneas she shepherds, this faerie is sensitive to air-borne pollutants, and thus as a species, is becoming rarer and rarer in the modern world. Rainey Creek offers the perfect habitat for Usneas and their faerie guardians, but it's best to visit in the autumn or winter. The sprites and visitors alike vie with highly competitive mosquitoes during the spring and summer months.

Comparative Lichenology

Day 41: East meets West for today's essay! A friend recently sent me two lichen specimens from Maine in the hopes that I could identify them for her. One of them was a member of the generic category of "Old Man's Beard lichens," specifically Usnea filipendula (Fishbone Beard, top photos). It put me in mind of my favourite among the Usneas, Methuselah's Beard (U. longissima, lower photos), so I thought it would be fun to present them paired, and thus took a short hike to a location where longissima is abundant.

As you can see, Fishbone is much more compact and delicate. Longissima grows in graceful strands up to ten feet in length. Filipendula branches abundantly, and Methuselah's Beard consists of threads on a central stem, much like a Christmas garland. A microscopic view reveals that isidia (grain-like reproductive units which detach easily from the thallus) are present on both specimens, but are more numerous in the case of filipendula. Both species are excellent air-quality indicators. Sensitive to even small amounts of pollution, Usneas only grow where the air is pure.

Taxonomic Nomenclature

Day 44: Taxonomic nomenclature is not a static science. As research progresses (particularly in genetics), species need to be reclassified, not only within a genus, but sometimes into a different genus entirely. Sphaerophorus venerabilis got off easy. It was formerly known as Sphaerophorus globosus, which in fact is more descriptive of its knobby apothecia than its present name. It is a beautiful and graceful thing, and invariably when I find it, I think, "Wow! What's that?" only to discover upon arriving home that I've bookmarked the page in Brodo and left a note to myself regarding the change in its taxonomy. Today, it surprised me once again. I literally stumbled across a downed branch heavily populated with Lettuce Lung (Lobaria oregana), and while I was admiring it, I noticed the Sphaerophorus. "Wow! What's that?" I said to myself, not realizing I was revisiting the phrase, and then took a dozen or so photos from different angles. I also noted at least two species of Liverwort on the same branch. Don't get your hopes up. There is no comprehensive field guide to the liverworts of the Pacific Northwest.

The Hole Story

Day 39: Another puzzle submitted to me by my sister-of-the heart Patty resolved itself after some reconstitution of the subject matter in a sealed container with a piece of wet paper towel. You have to love lichens for their resiliency! While Patty was in Maine recently, she sent photos which led me to a tentative identification in this case of Cladina mitis, Green Reindeer Lichen. What I was not expecting was that she would also submit a physical specimen so I could take a closer look. When it arrived in the mail a few days ago, it had withered substantially, as had a small sprig of an Usnea. Examining it under the 'scope, it was hard to tell how many podetial tips were present, curled in on themselves as they were, but I did observe what I thought was the "gaping hole" between the tips, making me wonder if it might be Cladina stellaris instead (pointer shows the hole). However after further moisturizing, the tips have opened out into threes, ruling C. stellaris out. Given the other physical characteristics, I'm reverting to my initial identification of Cladina mitis. As for the Usnea, the jury is still undecided, but I believe it is U. filipendula, Fishbone Beard Lichen, one of the generic category of "Old-Man's Beard" lichens.

See? Urchin Spines!

Day 38: Seriously, it doesn't take much to keep me amused. Just give me a jar of sand from an "exotic" east-coast location and my microscope, and I'll be occupied for hours.

See those little green bits at the end of the built-in pointer? Those are sea-urchin spines, almost invisible to the unaided eye and barely visible under a hand lens. Under the microscope, they're revealed as textural beauties, ridged longitudinally. Occasionally, you can catch one in cross-section, and in those moments, you might think you'd found a faerie's zucchini dinner. Proportionally, this "sand" seems to be an almost equal mix of rock and shell fragment. A riot of colour, unlike the Pacific Northwest's drab grey grit, bits of opalescent mother-of-pearl and purple mussel-shell catch the eye amid the softer tones of cream and tan.

Sand was not the only thing in my mailbox yesterday. The friend who sent it included two lichen samples as well. See? Presents don't have to be pricey to be fun!

Parked

Day 37: "Honey, do you remember where we parked the car?" I've had days when I wondered if this would be the fate of mine and have spent ten minutes wandering around a crowded parking lot looking for the kayak rack which I eventually remember I removed last week. My spatial memory fails me in the city, lamp posts and buildings not registering in my mind with any distinction. However, I remember clearly where this ancient vehicle was abandoned in the woods, just past the open grove of maples where the trail takes a 90-degree turn and abruptly becomes boot-sucking mud. How it got there is open to conjecture. The land on which it sits is administered by Cowlitz Wildlife now, but it may have been home to workers employed in building Mossyrock Dam at some point. Maybe when the project was completed, the owner left it behind, its wood-spoked wheels in too poor condition to take on the road. That's one theory, anyway. Any identifying insignias have been removed, but I suspect it is a Ford. Wasn't everything a Ford in those days (whatever "days" those might have been)? I wish it could tell me its story. I'm sure it must have seen some adventures, poor old thing. 

Longmire Campground After The Storm

 Day 36: Yesterday's storm resulted in a temporary closure of the Park, and while most of us were home watching the gauges on the Nisqually, Cowlitz and Carbon Rivers, havoc was being wreaked by high winds in the forests. Longmire Stewardship Campground was hit hard, dozens of trees snapped off or toppled across the loop road. Campsites are filled with the debris of broken branches, but as far as I could tell, none of the new picnic tables was damaged.

After the annual Turkey Feed, Park personnel were out assessing the damage this afternoon. If you look closely, you will be able to spot Superintendent Randy King (in hat) and two other Park employees in this photo.

Campground cleanup is an issue we deal with every spring, but seldom is it of this magnitude. This year, the call for volunteers will be "all hands on deck!"

The Full Suite

Day 35: I can't remember a time when my Christmas cacti have come into bloom simultaneously (not every pot, but every colour), but this year, they've decided to compete. Let's look at each candidate's merits.

Scarlet: She's tried and true, an old-fashioned girl, one of the originals. There's no denying she's brilliant, and that red will stop you in your tracks.

White: Blushing and modest, this delicate maiden brings grace and elegance to any setting. As fragile as she appears, her strength and sturdiness make her a reliable performer.

Picotee: "Flamboyant" is the word which springs immediately to mind when this lady bursts into bloom, but she pulls it off without pretension. In vibrant skirts, she could be a dancer.

Yellow: Novelty is this beauty's long suit, and with it, she'll knock your socks off with her unique and breathtaking hue. She is not at all shy with her displays, producing larger flowers in abundance.

Yellow In Splendor

Day 34: A faint blush keeps me from describing Yellow as "canary," although some years the colour is more true. The blossoms of this variety tends to darken with age more obviously than any of the others, but at first opening, it will enliven any shelf. As I've mentioned before, I'd be hard put to select a favourite, given the options of Yellow and Picotee, though Yellow certainly tries to edge her sister out. Tomorrow, I'll present the full Suite of Four, and you can decide for yourselves!

A Day Of White Surprises

Day 33: The first white surprise this morning was discovering that in response to being brought into a warmer room, White Zygo's largest bud had burst into bloom. Before you can say, "But that's pale pink!" I'd like to explain that the more exotic colours of Christmas Cactus vary in hue from year to year depending on how much light they receive and how cool or warm they've been kept. White nearly always blushes in the growing conditions I provide, and it's such a delicate shade that I can't object to its pinkness in good conscience; a lovely thing deserves admiration, and in fact, she is my strongest grower and largest plant. In contradiction to my expectations as to which would be first to bloom, Yellow looks like it will be last, and will likely open before evening.

As for the other white surprise of the day, it's in my yard: a dusting of snow. 

Second To Bloom

Day 32: Winner of this year's "First to Bloom" award went to Picotee Zygo a week ago, but then the race for second place was on. My money was on Yellow, usually somewhat quicker to mature from bud to blossom, but Scarlet leapt out in front and maintained a strong lead through to the finish line. Looks like Yellow will be coming in third a day or so from now, and White (poor White!) is just coming around the first turn.

I keep my Zygocacti pruned back in order to have space for several varieties, but unfortunately lost Crimson, one of the more common colours. I have not replaced it due to lack of room on their shelf; several pots of Yellow occupy most of the available space. Some day, I'll find an orange one at a price I can afford. I am only aware of one supplier, and they charge shipping fees equal or greater than the value of the plant.

Invisible Scouting

Day 31: Yes, today was a momentous day. Today, I completed the requirements for my Invisible Scout badge. I cannot divulge what tasks were required of me because above and beyond all others (even Eternal Scouts), Invisible Scouts are sworn to deepest secrecy. However, it is safe to say that I did not have to enter the forbidden Dog Park to retrieve the intern who played a role in this history; in fact, the intern returned undaunted and unscathed from the mission on which I had dispatched him, making me wonder if in fact he did attempt to find the secret entrance to the Dog Park's dismal spider-infested sublevels. His recounting of the event was somewhat unclear, as if perhaps his memories had been altered.

No, dear readers, I am not capitalizing on the popularity of "Welcome to Night Vale" by writing a spin-off episode. I am acknowledging Ian, who is truly an intern with the Volunteer Program in the Park (Mount Rainier, not Dog Park) and got me started on Night Vale some months ago when I asked him what he knew about podcasts (then terra incognita to me). He suggested it, and I surprised myself by enjoying it but shied away from the associated merchandising except to purchase the novel of the same name, although the Invisible Scout badge was something I coveted. I had mentioned it in casual conversation to Ian, not expecting that he'd purchase it for me in exchange for completing a small favour for him. It came in an envelope marked, "Open last! I trust you." I did as I was told, savouring the surprise, and finished my work first. When I felt the round shape inside, I was sure I knew what it was. Thank you, Ian! See ya later, although you may not see me. I'm an Invisible Scout!

It's An Opisometer

Day 30: People will think you're being vulgar if you call this device by its proper name. Yep, it's an "uh-PIS-uh-meet-er." I call it my "map-walker," a term which may raise questions but not necessarily eyebrows. By rolling it along a trail on a topographic map and using different conversions depending on the map's scale, it's actually fairly accurate for measuring distance. I've compared it against actual mileages on a 7.5' map often enough to trust it to give me an error factor of no more than a tenth of a mile over a five-mile run. Of course a lot depends on how many switchback corners there are and how carefully the operator can trace them, but it's a good sight better than "as the crow flies," a functional tool for telling this Crow how far she'll have to leg it.

Zygo Pollen Nebula

Day 29: While examining grains of Zygocactus pollen under the microscope today, I was startled by the sudden rupture of one and subsequent expulsion of thousands of microspores in a nebulous cloud. I was immediately struck by the similarity of the microscopic world to that of the macroscopic universe and couldn't resist converting one to the other digitally. The more I think about this, the more convinced I am that there are substantial relativistic overtones. After all, the TARDIS is bigger on the inside than on the outside.

Aleuria Aurantia, Orange-Peel Fungus

Day 28: It's not difficult to imagine how Orange-Peel Fungus earned its common name. From even a short distance, that's exactly what it looks like. Closer in, you'll notice an absence of the dimples and pith you'd expect to see in a discarded citrus peel, and then you may observe the thin walls of this very vibrant species. For all of its "caution light" colour, it is non-poisonous, although almost tasteless and leathery despite being brittle. It is easily identified by its lack of stipe (stalk) and the uniform colour of its interior and exterior surfaces.

The Schizophyllum Adventure

Day 27: The Schizophyllum Adventure kept me up well past bedtime last night because I was determined to solve the mystery of this fungus' identity. A friend had piqued my curiosity when she sent me photos taken during a walk on the network of trails within her acreage, photos which showed only enough detail to convince me that it was something I had never before seen. Nothing baits me as well as the unusual and mushrooms tend to be rather ephemeral (especially when the weather is rainy), so in the interests of science, I arranged to go exploring with my friend as guide.

Upon arrival at the site, we discovered multiple specimens growing along a 15' length of downed alder. The fungus was most definitely something I'd never observed, so true to form and with my eye fixed on the goal, I went straight through the nettles to get a closer look. I took photos from several different angles, and made a close visual examination, but fearing that I might miss some important detail, I took a sample in the end and tucked it safely away in a petri dish in my pocket. That moment of foresight made it possible for me to make a positive identification: Schizophyllum commune, Split-gill Fungus.

The common name tells the story. Under 10x magnification, the odd structure of this fungus' gills becomes apparent. They are truly schizoid, i.e., split into two parts longitudinally as you can see in the bottom photos. The fungus forms brackets (shelves) similar to those in the generic classification of "Oyster Mushrooms," but are exceptionally "hairy," the feature which drew my friend's attention initially.

As luck would have it, we encountered a second immature colony much closer to her house which will allow her to monitor their further development.

Growing Sporadically In Eatonville

Day 26: The best word-play is that which occurs accidentally, the speaker blithely going on, oblivious to what they've said. Such was the case many years ago when I remarked to my husband during a drive that I was observing clusters of mushrooms growing sporadically alongside the road. Now I am a fan of Tom Swifties, but I uttered those words without the slightest thought to making a joke. Bruce cracked up, and it took me a couple of minutes to figure out why he was laughing. Since then, I've repeated it, waiting to see which of my friends will catch on, but it will never, ever be as good as that first time.

In any event, that's how the Licorice Ferns grow in Eatonville: sporadically, and mostly in association with Big-leaf Maple. I've included a pair of views through the microscope to show you how "sporadic" Polypodium glycyrrhiza is. In fact, the largest of the spores measures roughly 4.5μ by 6μ. The righthand photo in the inset includes the spore capsule as well as a few dozen spores.

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!

A Closer Look At Zygo

Day 24: Don't have houseplants because you're allergic to pollen? Zygocacti shouldn't be a problem. As you can see from the inset, their pollen grains are smooth and hairless, unlike those which cause many allergies. In fact, many plants' pollen grains look like weapons of warfare; lances, arrowheads, caltrops, maces, morning-stars. Zygocactus pollen looks more like dimpled oranges or slightly misshapen golf balls.

Yes, I couldn't resist taking a look through the microscope when I discovered that Picotee had a fully-open blossom this morning. Of the several colours of Zygo in my collection, she is almost always the first to open, and a showy thing she is for the dismal days of November. She is likely to be followed by Yellow, and like any parent, I don't want to say I have a favourite child, but those two are strong competitors. In any event, I will have a nearly continuous display of Zygos between now and early January, and with any luck at all, Hatiora will join the assembly. I wonder if Hattie's pollen will be a different shape?

The Clavariadelphus Club

Day 23: Membership in the Clavariadelphus Club is very exclusive. First of all, you have to be a fungus, but not just any fungus can apply. Secondly, you have to be markedly club-shaped...it's a "clubs only" club, so to speak. Right there, that's fairly limiting, and only a few species are represented in the Pacific Northwest. Often difficult to tell apart, these fungi's true nature may require microscopic examination of the spores, and even that may be insufficient. In fact, the jury is still out on whether some species of Clavariadelphus should truly be categorized separately from another. That brings us to "lumpers" and "splitters," the two species of taxonomist currently accepted as different breeds. The "lumpers" (so named for their tendency to lump subspecies under a single heading) will tell you that Clavariadelphus sachalinensis (presumably shown here) and Clavariadelphus ligula should be considered one and the same. The "splitters" (those who prefer to separate by minute differences) will argue that they are two distinct species. However you may care to parse it, any Clavariadelphus is still a member of the Club.

Cladonias All The Way Down

Day 22: The signature phrase, "It's turtles all the way down" has been attributed to a number of different sources (Bertrand Russell or William James among others) and was popularized by none other than Stephen Hawking in more recent times. It refers to a bit of mythology (again ascribed to various cultures) in which the Earth is described as resting on the back of a huge turtle. The expression results from a confrontation between a cosmologist following his explanation of the nature of the Universe and a member of the audience who puts forth the legend as an alternate theory. When asked what supports the first turtle, the challenger asserts, "Another turtle." The cosmologist then responds, "But what does that turtle stand on?" The reply follows the legend exactly, "Another turtle, of course. It's turtles all the way down."

In the fascinating world of lichens, nothing proves the myth more visibly than the Cladonias. On close examination, it's not hard to find proof that it's Cladonias all the way down. (Cladonia grayi)

Pod People

 Day 21: I got quite a surprise when I looked through the microscope yesterday morning. I had been out in the yard gathering various items of interest, and on my way back to the house, the Sword Fern (Polystichum munitum) at the end of my carport caught my eye. I figured the spore capsules and/or spores would be too opaque to view without top lighting, but I scraped a few off with an X-acto knife and put them in the well of a concave slide. After adding a drop of water to separate them, I placed a cover slip over the well and put that slide on the bottom of the pile, fully expecting it to be a total flop when I put it under the 'scope. It turned out to be my best slide of the day, and I spent the next hour exploring the world of the Pod, although no spores were in evidence.

Without a mechanical stage, it's very difficult to get an object in the center of the field of view on the higher magnifications. First off, you need to move it counter-intuitively, i.e., a nudge on the left side moves the material to the left, not to the right as you might expect, and a nudge on the side toward you moves the material toward you rather than away. Second, the slightest tap may be enough to send your subject entirely out of the field of view, in which case you revert to a lower magnification and try centering it again. A mechanical stage overcomes this by allowing more regulated movement of the slide (I've ordered one). Fortunately, these wonderful spore capsules were large enough to be easily found again. What amazing structures!

Puzzling Protozoans

Day 20: I strongly doubt I will ever be able to identify more than a handful of protozoans (if that!), but I did determine that the one in the bottom photo was making its way across my field of view powered by its flagellum ("tail"). That's the feature which determines the level of organization under which this type of one-celled critter fals: Flagellates. That's not to say all flagellates are related to one another. It is simply a means of categorizing them by their means of motion. Ciliates are another such organizational level, propelled by hundreds of tiny "hairs" (cilia) on the exterior of their cell walls. I seem to have a nice population of them growing in a rooting jar in my kitchen window. Why the difference? Maybe they like the warmer indoor temperature. I'm not likely to get very technical when it comes to describing these microscopic critters, but I hope you will enjoy seeing my discoveries from time to time.

Aptly Named "Sunburst"

Day 19: While a lot of lichens have some rather strange common names (Frog Pelt, Ticker-tape, Volcano, Deflated Tube), the logic behind "Sunburst" is obvious. Its Latin nomenclature reflects its colour and abundant apothecia: Xanthoria polycarpa, i.e., "xanthous" (yellow) and "many-fruited." It occurs farther inland than its cousin X. parietina, a species which in any event is rather rare on the west coast. Look for the apothecial disks which distinguish it from Candelariella vitellina (Common Goldspeck). Sunburst will be found on tree bark, Goldspeck almost always on rock.