Family Breakup

 Found a big patch of recently-bloomed Johnny Tuck today at the side of the road in East Quincy by Abernathy Lane.  Down in the lower canyon and around Chico people know these as Butter and Eggs.  When I first learned about them they were included in the Family Scrofulariaceae.  In most field guides it is commonly known as the Figwort Family, but I have often called it the Snapdragon family because it included Snapdragons and most people are familiar with cultivated ones.  However, recently botanists have broken up the Family Scorphulariaceae into a few new families and moved some of its members to other already-existing families.  So, if you look up Johnny Tuck, or Triphysaria eriantha, depending on the age of the field guide or other source, you might run into a confusion of names.  My most up-to-date field guide places Johnny Tuck in the Family Orobanchaceae.  I'm trying to train myself to stop calling it Butter and Eggs because there is another flower in our area that goes by that name.  I flipped a coin.  By the way, the name 'scrophulariaceae' derives from the Latin word 'scrofa' which means pig.  Etymologies are fun.

 Here's a repeat of the Blue-eyed Mary I posted a couple of days ago.  Now blooming around Quincy, this too used to be a member of the Scrophulariaceae, but has been moved to the Family Plantaginaceae as have many other genera.  The binomial remains the same, however.  It's Collinsia sparsiflora.  And the flower is pretty sparse, only around 1/4" wide.

 The Monkeyflowers, Genus Mimulus, I thought would be one group that would remain in the family because they so closely resemble the Snapdragons.  The species above is the most common one in roadside ditches around Quincy and is Mimulus guttatus.  However, it's been moved to a new family.  I hope it's happy.  Family Phrymaceae. 

I've only seen one specimen of this little blue beauty, and it was in a planter box in front of a Quincy business, hiding in a dense patch of Miner's Lettuce.  It's American Brooklime, Veronica americana.  This species has lots of color variations.  Some have only blue petals, for instance.  Another former member of the Scrophulariaceae, it is now in the Family Plantaginaceae. 
Only a few species of local wildflowers remain in the Family Scrophulariaceae, and I'll feature them when they start blooming.  My favorite is the familiar Wooly Mullein.  Newly emerging leaves of Mullein were featured here last week, but it will be at least another month before they bloom.  They are a bienniel, so when they bloom you know they are in their second year.

Dewey Lupine

In the morning, I call this Dewey Lupine.  In the afternoon, the dew is gone, so I call it Hairy Lupine.
My favorite photo of the day.  I found lots of them at the edge of Main Street in East Quincy.  What got my attention was a big patch of yellow Johnny Tuck (next post) but when I stopped and looked around, the most photogenic things I saw were these Lupines with their captured dew drops.  Still too young for me to identify the species, and they may not bloom for another month.

Lost in the Shuffle

Took this one on yesterday's walk in downtown Quincy, but forgot to include in my last post.  An impressive fly on a Dandelion on the lawn of the Plumas County School District office.  There's a row of Sweet Gum trees by the sidewalk that have major roots rising above the lawn. That makes mowing difficult, which, to me, is a good thing because it provides good habitat for interesting weeds and bugs.  I'm sure the groundskeepers have a different perspective, but I take my enjoyment where I can find it.  As Michael Pollen said, "A lawn is nature under totalitarian rule."

All In the Neighborhood

 Not only is the Spring Whitlow Grass one of the earliest bloomers, but is already going to seed.  A very fast life cycle, and it will go through several before many other species bloom for the first time.
These were photographed in the depressions at the top of a cinder block wall on Coburn St.

 At the foot of the same wall there's a nice crop of early Dandelions.  The herbicides will probably arrive soon.  But the dandelions will prevail anyway.

 Chickweed, growing among the cultivated flowers around the museum.

 Lilies of the field, in the lawn of the corner house owned by the museum.  I forgot the name, but I'll insert it later.  Please don't mow for a while.  This is a nice scene.

 These lilies have many names, one of which is Hyacinth.  But there are many other flowers named hyacinth.  Better learn some Latin.

 Miner's lettuce on Main Street.

 Saw this Filaree blooming, went home to get the camera, and by the time I got back, the wind had knocked off the petals.

 A little further down the street there were some survivors.  This "weed" is a wild geranium.

 Henbit Dead Nettle, a mint without an aroma, at least to the human nose.  There are probably some bugs that can smell it.

                                         Burr Clover, a close relative of Alfalfa. 

                                        A close-up of Burr Clover.

Keddie Cascades Trail, an afterword

 Another millipede photo from last Thursday's hike on the Keddie Cascades Trail.  On a cold day, the millipedes tend to stay curled into a tight spiral under rocks, logs, bark, etc.  My son and I have often breathed on them in the palm of our hands until they warm up enough to stretch out and crawl.  That makes for more interesting photos.  We are familiar with the trace of cyanide odor they often leave behind.  This time my son was startled when the larger millipede literally sprayed him in the face and left behind a light-yellow ring of stain on both his face and hand.  Fortunately, he wears glasses, or this might have been painful to his eyes.  I've known various beetles that could spray, but never a millipede.  I have since spoken with one entomologist and he had never heard of this phenomenon, nor could I find any reference to it online.  Nature never runs out of surprises!

 Our first reptile sighting of the season was this small Bluebelly, also known as the Northwestern Fence Lizard, Sceloporus occidentalis occidentalis.  We don't mind handling these gently as they seldom drop their tails unless attacked.  The skinks, on the other hand, which we hope to start seeing soon, can drop their tails even before being handled if they are frightened.  We avoid causing this because the energy required to regrow a tail usually means skipping a breeding season.

 A close view.  Bluebellies hand-tame easily if you are gentle with them.

 These attractive leaves reminded me a little of Rattlesnake Plantain and of Prince's Pine, but I don't think it's either of these.  My springtime botany skills are rusty, so I'll have to wait until this one blooms or perhaps one of the followers of this blog will recognize it.

 A shelf fungus gets its start on a huge Douglas-fir.  This is a general category of fungi based on their shape and location, so it's not the name of a particular species.  They can get quite large, so I will look for this one throughout the summer when I hike this trail.

 Here's an organism, a symbiotic pair actually, the fascinated Beatrix Potter before she gave up on the male-dominated science establishment and began writing children's stories about rabbits.  She was actually one of the first to recognize that lichens were a symbiotic pairing of algae and fungi. 

Here's a repeat from my first series on the Keddie Cascades outing.  So far, I haven't been able to identify it, but it was growing on a dry, sanding slope among hundreds of Shooting Stars.  If you know what it is, feel free to post it in the comments section. 

A Little Inspiration for Spring

I'm busy helping to develop a course called Nature Writing in America, and also preparing for a one-week stint teaching Adventures in Nature Journaling.  Both of these endeavors involve crossing the squishy boundary between science and humanities.  In the spirit of erasing such boundaries, I want to share from my "inspiring quotes" collection, statements by two of my favorite scientists who recognized the futility of having too narrow a perspective on trying to understand life on this planet and what our proper role might be.

"After a certain high level of technical skill is achieved, science and art tend to coalesce in esthetics, plasticity, and form.  The greatest scientists are always artists as well."   - Albert Einstein

"It would be a poor thing to be an atom in a universe without physicists, and physicists are made of atoms.  A physicist is an atom's way of knowing about atoms."    - George Wald

Beware the Ho-Ax

 On this day, five years ago, I flew my private jet up to Nome, Alaska, and took this photo of a polar bear hiding behind an iceberg during a severe blizzard.  This morning, I'm back in Nome.  Since my

first visit, they have dug a huge coal mine that produces a high-sulfur coal.  Right next to the mine is a new coal-fired power plant that provides electric power for all of Alaska and neighboring Yukon Territory.  I took the second photo this morning, in the same spot as the first photo, shortly after sunrise.   Again, there was such a powerful blizzard that I'm not sure if there was a polar bear in the shot.  As you can see, air quality has deteriorated.

If you're still with me, I have another short story to relate.  In the spring of 1967 I led a team of 8 young budding scientists on an expedition to Eagle Lake.  We were one of around 10 such teams, each lead by a science teacher and studying a particular aspect of the Eagle Lake environment.  My team was studying various ecological phenomena in Murrer's Meadow, including the rate of decomposition and the sequence of invertebrate visitors in the plentiful piles of cow poop.  It occurred to the kids to call our group The Meadow Muffins.  This expedition took place a few weeks after April Fool's Day, but the spirit somehow lasted through early May.  My students started spreading rumors about a very dangerous and secretive creature known as a Ho-Ax  (Pronounced hoe - axe).   Soon we were being asked frequently about whether we'd had any sightings.  There was quite a bit of anxiety developing in camp over the next few days before someone discovered the whole thing was a hoax!  Fun.  So, by now you might think the first story and photos above are another hoax.  Maybe so.  Or, they might be a premonition.