Thursday, May 11, 2017

A Few Recent Bird Portraits

Not much to say here; just wanted to share a few recent photos.

Mourning dove at Blacklick Woods. 

I was pleased when this pileated woodpecker came to the suet feeder at the nature center. I rarely get such a good opportunity to photograph our largest woodpecker. This is a male, as evidenced by the red "mustache." 

Canada goose at Pickerington Ponds. Say what you want about Canada geese; they're handsome birds.

I'm going on a family vacation to Puerto Rico next week! One of my primary goals is to see and photograph lots of birds and other wildlife, which I'll be sure to share here. Until then, adios!

Thursday, April 27, 2017

Spring at Blacklick Woods

I just had a blog post published on the Metro Parks Blog advertising Blacklick Woods, the park where I work, in spring. Here is a direct link to my post: See a bounty of nature’s riches at Blacklick Woods Metro Park. To make it more readable to the general public (i.e., shorter and with fewer big words), there was a lot I did not include in that post, which I want to talk about here.

Vernal Pool Amphibians

In that post, I focused the first section on the spring peeper, saying it is one of the first frogs that can be heard calling in the spring. That's true, but it is not the first—that honor goes to the wood frog, Lithobates sylvaticus, which sometimes migrates to breeding pools as early as late January. Wood frogs are shortly joined by spring peepers, then western chorus frogs by late February. I mentioned that spring peepers are one of a few frogs that survive winter by freezing solid; the wood frog is another. The western chorus frog, gray treefrog, and Cope's gray treefrog also have this ability, which makes five species in Ohio that use this strategy. They all have cryoprotectants in their tissues, those special proteins and sugars I mentioned that act as antifreeze.

By mid-April, the wood frogs have abandoned the pools and their duck-like quacking is no longer heard. They are already done calling this year (which is why I did not include them), but the spring peepers, chorus frogs, and gray treefrogs can still be heard.

A representative from Ohio’s other amphibian order also visits Blacklick’s vernal pools: the spotted salamander, Ambystoma maculatum. Being in the family known as mole salamanders, spotted salamanders spend most of their adult lives under ground. With the first warm spring rains, they migrate by night to vernal pools in droves. Some of the six-inch salamanders might travel up to a mile, risking predators and cars along the way. Fortunately, they have two super cool tricks in their defensive repertoire (which might deter predators, but unfortunately are useless against cars). The first is hinted at by their colors: yellow spots on black—that’s aposematism (ap-uh-SEM-uh-tiz-um), or warning coloration. They’re letting you know that their skin is full of poison glands, from which they can discharge a milky, toxic slime when threatened. The second is caudal autotomy (aw-TOT-uh-mee), or self-amputation of the tail. When grabbed by the tail, a salamander can simply drop it and run, leaving a would-be predator with a mouth full of wriggling tail to distract it. They won’t shed too many tears over their lost tail though, because in a few months they’ll have grown a new one, albeit not as pretty as the original. Limbs can also be regrown, but this is a longer process, and the salamander doesn’t autotomize these. Salamanders are the only vertebrates that can regenerate limbs.


When the salamanders reach the pools, it’s a mating frenzy! Males dance around females, guiding them to their spermatophores (sperm packets). Females use these to fertilize their eggs, which they attach to submerged branches. The egg clusters swell with water into fist-sized masses, and this is where things get interesting. Close inspection of the eggs might reveal flecks of green inside them. The culprit is an alga, Oophila amblystomatis (“mole salamander egg-lover”).


But don’t worry, this alga is no parasite. It helps the eggs, and vice versa. The alga, being a photosynthetic organism, takes in carbon dioxide released by the embryo and produces oxygen, which the embryo needs. Salamander eggs with algae in them develop faster than eggs with no algae. And it goes further than just entering the eggs. It enters the cells of the salamander embryos, living inside of them in a mutualistic relationship, providing them with oxygen derived from energy from the sun… We’re talking about solar-powered salamanders! If that’s not cool, I don’t know what is.

Nesting Raptors

Remember how I said birds are dinosaurs? I just want to add this comic from xkcd.com.

From xkcd.com [license]


Wildflowers


This is the yellow trout lily colony by Ashton Pond at Blacklick Woods. The editor cut this photo from the Metro Parks Blog post. And okay, maybe it's not the best, but gosh darn it, I got poison ivy taking this photo, and I will have it be seen!

This is one of the flowers I mentioned that has its seeds dispersed by ants. The name of this process is one of my favorite words: myrmecochory (mur-mi-KOK-uh-ree). Despite the way it sounds, it has nothing to do with cockiness by mermaids, just seed dispersal by ants. Flowers that rely on myrmecochory are said to be myrmecochorous. And the protein-rich, fleshy attachments that make the seeds attractive to ants? Those are called elaiosomes (ih-LAI-uh-sohms).

See, isn't that better? Yes, yes it is. Life is better with big words.







Tuesday, March 28, 2017

Blooms and Butterflies

Chihuly glassworks beneath a skylight at the Franklin Park
Conservatory and Botanical Gardens.

All did not go according to plan. I did not go to Switzerland. But I definitely am going to Puerto Rico in May, so there's that. Anyway, I still have some photos of exotic flora and fauna to show from two recent trips to the Franklin Park Conservatory, which I had never been to before last month despite living within ten miles of the place. For a naturalist, I don't get out much.

The conservatory is basically a giant greenhouse. It's made of glass, and full of plants—over 400 different kinds. It's divided into rooms representing different biomes, so you can step from the Himalayas into a tropical rainforest into a desert and feel the climatic difference in each. They like to have exhibitions. Last month's theme was orchids; right now, it's butterflies.

A Phalaenopsis orchid. Members of this genus
are called moth orchids because some
species resemble moths in flight.

Orchidaceae is one of the two largest families of flowering plants in the world, with about 28,000 currently accepted species. Their numbers are rivaled only by Asteraceae, the aster family. Which family is larger is an ongoing debate because the species data in each are in constant flux. Right now, according to this list, Asteraceae seems to be winning, with 32,913 accepted species. But regardless of which family is actually larger, we can all agree that orchids take the aesthetic cake.

Most orchids are easily identifiable as such by their bilateral symmetry and one highly modified petal called a labellum. Telling an orchid from an aster or a rose is easy, but telling one orchid from another is an entirely different matter. Not only are there thousands of species across hundreds of genera, but they like to hybridize. And I'm not even great with native wildflowers, so forgive me if I can't name most of these.

I think this one is an Oncidium. Common names for this genus include "dancing-lady orchid" and, unfortunately, "golden shower orchid." You do you, Oncidium.

This one might be a Trichocentrum, another genus commonly called dancing-ladies.

As for this one and the rest, I have no idea.








Now, on to the butterflies! I'm a little better at identifying these. During the "Blooms and Butterflies" exhibition, which runs from now until September 17th, newly-emerged butterflies are released in the Pacific Island Water Garden every day at 1 and 3pm.

Before you enter the garden, you can look through a window into the "Butterfly Emergence Chamber," where hundreds of chrysalides hang from shelves like stained glass stalactites. Here are three freshly-eclosed paper kites, Idea leuconoe.

This is where the magic happens: the Pacific Island Water Garden. It is by far the largest atrium, filling the whole south wing of the conservatory.

Here is another view of the room, from a lookout tower within its glass walls.

I watched the 3pm butterfly release. A staff member wheeled a cart laden with containers full of newly-emerged butterflies from the emergence chamber out into the garden. She would remove a butterfly from one of the containers and tell us a little about it before shaking her hand to send it on its maiden flight. Here she is presenting a great yellow Mormon, Papilio lowi.

And here's a closer look at our Mormon friend. I must say, it looks neither particularly yellow, nor particularly Mormon. Searching the almighty Google showed me that in more colorful specimens, the abdomen and those white patches on the hindwings can be yellow. Okay, so that explains the "yellow" part of its name, but why is it a Mormon? Was it discovered by a Mormon? Haha, nope, it's polygamous. I should have known.

The butterflies are quite friendly with my brother...

...and with each other.

Some have translucent wings, like this giant glasswing, Methona confusa.

And some are more than meets the eye. This is a common morpho, Morpho peleides. It's also called the blue morpho, although it shares that name with three other Morpho species. Where's the blue, you ask? On the dorsal side of the wings. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get a shot of one flashing the blue, so here's one from Wikimedia Commons:

Photo by Thomas Bresson [license]
The name Morpho is an epithet for Aphrodite. These butterflies surely deserve the name.

In the center of the water garden is this colossal Chihuly glass sculpture, which had several butterflies perched on it, no doubt attracted to the colors.

A Heliconius butterfly on Chihuly glass.

Two color morphs of H. melpomene, the postman.

Most of the butterflies I saw were in the genus Heliconius, commonly known as longwings. This is a fascinating group that has taught us much about mimicry. Two kinds of mimicry, in fact. The first kind is called Batesian mimicry, named after English naturalist Henry Walter Bates. He was studying butterflies in Brazil in 1848 when he noticed that a nontoxic butterfly was mimicking the appearance of a toxic butterfly to gain protection. Heliconian caterpillars eat passion flower vines, which are poisonous, and store the plants' toxins in their tissues. They advertise their distastefulness with bright warning colors (aposematism). Bates found that the tiger longwing, H. ismenius, was being mimicked by a harmless species now known as the mimic tigerwing. This is Batesian mimicry: when a harmless species mimics a harmful one to deter predators.

Because longwings are toxic, they have Batesian mimics. However, they are also mimics themselves. They mimic other members of their genus. The following three images are all different Heliconius species:

H. ismenius, the tiger longwing

This one might be H. numata, but I'm not positive.

H. melpomene, the postman

Notice any similarities? So do predators. When a bird eats one longwing, they learn to avoid everything that looks like it, which means avoiding other longwing species. When two or more species mimic each other to avoid predation, that's called Müllerian mimicry. So, there you have it. Longwings have Batesian mimics, and they are Müllerian  mimics.

But that's not all. One longwing may have several different color morphs. For example, the next three images are all different morphs of H. melpomene, the postman (so-named because it follows the same route, from flower-to-flower, every day, like a postman delivering mail).




These morphs vary geographically. What's amazing is that this species has a co-mimic, H. erato, which mimics its color and pattern almost exactly, and whatever morph it has in a particular region, its mimic will also have!

Nature never ceases to amaze.




Friday, January 6, 2017

Select Photos From Photo I

My last post had me looking through the photos of yesteryear(s) to find my favorite nature photos. I want to follow that with some of my favorite photos from the photography class I took in autumn 2015, even though they aren't particularly relevant to this blog.

Lava lamp.

Plasma globe.

Creepy mask my brother made in art class.

I stole my sister's piggy bank.

Well, isn't this a lovely scene?

Looking up under the loose bark of a large dead ash tree.

Tall sunflowers reaching for the clouds.

Car wash foam or nebula?

GOJIRAAA! *out-of-sync lip movements*

I call this next series: "30-second Exposures in a Brightly-lit Parking Lot at Night in the Rain."



I followed my brother through said parking lot for this one.

This is my favorite image from my Synthetic Safari series, which you can see more of HERE.


Annnd that's all for now. Thirteen photos this time; good thing I'm not a triskaidekaphobe! If all goes according to plan, I should be back in about a month with photos of critters from a magical land of cheese and yodeling (i.e., Switzerland).

Wednesday, January 4, 2017

Favorite Photos of 2016 (and Before)

This is a thing that a lot of people who have photography blogs do, so I'm going to do it, too. Since this is my first "Favorite Photos of [Year]" post, and I've been a hobbyist photographer for about two and a half years, I'll include photos from as far back as 2014. So now, in no particular order, here's a selection of some of my favorite nature photos.

Flowers? Yep. Usually when I photograph flowers it's for identification purposes, but I do occasionally turn my lens on them for aesthetic reasons. This photo was taken at Lake Hope State Park in April 2015. I thought the little chain of spring beauties behind the bloodroot made for a nice composition.

A red-shouldered hawk nest! We've had a nesting pair in the picnic areas at Blacklick Woods for the last few years.

A red milkweed beetle on—you guessed it—a milkweed leaf. I wish I'd gotten a better focus on the face, but this is still one of my best early insect photos.

This is why I love insects! What we have here is a Diogmites robber fly (one of the "hanging thieves") hanging from a yew needle by one leg as it devours a European paper wasp butt-first. Could it get any more hardcore? Just please excuse the gross overexposure in this image.

Action pose! I was happy to find this little mantid nymph on my mailbox. We're so used to looking down at insects, shooting them from below always creates an engaging perspective.

I consider this portrait of an eastern carpenter bee my best macro portrait of an insect, and both this photo and the one of the mantid nymph above were taken with my smartphone (the Samsung Galaxy S4 at the time). It's amazing how good phone cameras are!

It was hard choosing a favorite dragonfly photo, but this eastern amberwing wins. Gotta love those amber wings, but what I really like is all of the smaller stuff sharing this dragon's perch. Tiny aquatic snails and some equally-small six-legged critters, plus a shed exoskeleton on the end from I know not what. To provide scale, keep in mind that amberwings max out at an inch in length, the smallest dragonfly you're likely to see in Ohio.

D'aww, look at this chipmunk sticking his little head out a hole. :3

Oh hi, Rusty the eastern screech owl. I remember you from that O.N.E. photography workshop.

Oh, albino gray squirrel, your inquisitive eyes peer into my soul. They make me ask myself things. Things like, "Why didn't I have the flash on when I took this picture?"—It's so BACKLIT!

This beautiful American bullfrog was on a log in the buttonbush swamp at Blacklick Woods. She let me get down on her level with my camera only about a foot away to take this photo.

A northern watersnake basks on some rocks along Lake Erie in Sheldon Marsh State Nature Preserve. I was inches away when I took this close-up.

It's a fungus, which I believe to be resinous polypore, Ischnoderma resinosum. Fungi are fascinating; you can expect a post about them at some point. I like the beads of moisture on the rim, which are due to an interesting process called fungal guttation. I also like the four bands of color in this image: three on the mushroom, and the green moss growing below creates the fourth.

Of course I had to include one of my five-lined skink photos from Cedar Bog...

...and the photo of the showy lady's slippers with the adorable katydid nymph!

A gartersnake chillin' in a tree outside the nature center at Blacklick Woods.

Another smartphone photo. It's a Melanoplus grasshopper nymph. It may be just a nymph, but it's already handsome with those black stripes on bright green and yellow.

This raccoon kit was taking a nap at the feeders behind the nature center. For several days it seemed to be napping while its siblings were busy eating, which leads me to believe it may have actually been sick at the time, poor thing.

A red-eared slider cruises through some duckweed in a pond at Inniswood Metro Gardens.

Two male snapping turtles fight for dominance of Blacklick Woods's Ashton Pond. This might be my single favorite photo in this list. I still consider the aquatic sumo match of these two to be one of the coolest things I've witnessed in Metro Parks.

I love spotted cucumber beetles, agricultural pests or not, and I enjoyed watching this one nibble on a milkweed leaf, which I didn't know was something they did. Taken with a smartphone.

A yellowjacket hover fly nectars on swamp milkweed in the nature center garden. Syrphid flies are darn good pollinators, and this one's a darn good yellowjacket mimic, too! 

And that's it! Count 'em: 22 photos. (If that seems like a random number, it's because I initially picked 20, then realized I had none from 2016 and threw in a couple more.) I wasn't very photographically active last year, but I already know I'll be doing some travelling in 2017. Here's hoping I get some awesome photos in... Switzerland and Puerto Rico! YEAH THAT'S RIGHT. I'm travelling the world this year! Woo!