Sexual Dimorphism. Why?

Before they mated, I thought they were two different species.  An entomologist specializing in beetles would have known right off.  This is one of those situations in which I was glad I didn't know too much.  That made it all the more interesting to search.  The male and female are not only of different size - not unusual - but of radically different color.  Unlike most birds, the female is not exactly camouflaged, unless she always rests on or among bright red objects.  I've only seen her on white flowers - daisies and Brewer's Angelica.  Until this occasion, I had only seen the males on Brewer's Angelica.  I might be tempted to do library or internet research to find out more since the busy season for these beetles is nearly over.  But I do want to put in a good word for the practice of repeated observation and letting your curiosity run wild.

The Nature of Smith Lake

 When I visited Smith Lake today it brought back great memories.  I studied natural history, ecology, and parasitology in the Deep South, first at Tulane then University of Florida. We did a great deal of field work in the swamps of Louisiana, Mississippi, and Florida.  We had rain every month and annual totals two to three times that of Quincy.  So, after a few weeks of very hot and dry weather, it was a pleasure to visit a swamp.  People used to swimming and boating in places like Tahoe and Almanor might find a place like Smith Lake ugly, but I find it beautiful. 

 As we scrambled through thick stands of Spiraea, Serviceberry, and different grasses and sedges, we heard dozens of frogs croak as they scampered across the muddy shoreline and hid amongst the lily pads.  I was surprised that we saw no snakes, but I'm sure they were there.  We also scared up a Great Blue Heron and a few pairs of ducks.

 There were huge patches of mint looking as fresh as they did in spring.  

 The leaves of pond lilies were stranded in mid-air as the evaporating lake sunk below them.  I didn't bring my telephoto lens, or I could have gotten lots of great pictures of dragonflies and damsel flies.

 Some of the larger snags that had been standing in the lake a couple of summers ago had fallen, but this large trunk near the shore was still impressive and was a home to many different invertebrates.

 The most noticeable was the home of a funnel spider.  It was incredibly hot this afternoon, and humid near the lake, so we didn't linger.  I plan to visit again soon in the morning so I can relax while seeking photos of insects, spiders and flowers.

 The Gooseberries along the road encircling the lake were abundant and nearly ripe.  Another reason for  return visit.

 As we drove through a dense, shady stretch of forest upon leaving the lake, this break in the trees gave us one last look at the beautiful swamp. 

Smith Lake

We explored the forests around Smith Lake and Snake Lake, a few miles west of Quincy, in search of sugar pine cones for gifts.  We  only found rotting ones that had spent the winter on the ground, but this year's crop of green ones still on the trees was impressive.  We'll have to go back when they start to fall in another couple of months.  So, we came home empty-handed except for photos and thirst.  It reached 109 degrees today in Quincy according to the NWS.  This bright red dragonfly was an exciting find.  Later I'll post a few Smith Lake Scenes.  Hot as it was, the lush vegetation and croaking frogs made the trip enjoyable for me.  That lake always makes me think of age of dinosaurs, or movies like The Creature from the Black Lagoon. 

What Makes a Place Sacred?

 I visited this place with about ten out-of-town guests this morning.  Lots of interesting discussion ensued about the special spiritual qualities of this place.  The words "spiritual" and "sacred" were tossed around quite a bit.  At one point there was a request for a few moments of silence so the spiritual qualities of the place could manifest.  I greatly enjoyed the silence.  In fact, I had the sensation of my ears "trying" to hear something, reach out for sound.  It reminded me of the visual counterpart I've experienced in caves.  Under conditions of total darkness, it felt like my eyes were reaching out for light.  I wandered around a bit, looking at the things I enjoy looking at, including checking what sorts of critters might be living under logs and in other hidden places.  While I was doing this, some of the others struck poses that apparently were reverent. 

I was very excited to discover a nest of carpenter ants under a charred log.  I watched as ants scurried about to pick up their eggs and relocate.  I only held the log up for a moment or two.  I wanted them to be able to change their "minds" and declare their present home safe again. I treated them much better that the so-called settlers treated the Indians.

 I am always awed at how easily ants carry things much heavier than their own bodies.

 A very large ant entered from the left.  I figured he/she/it was in charge of the operation.

 I spotted a lone Sugar Pine in the grove that was almost entirely Ponderosa with a few Incense Cedar and California Black Oak.  I felt the Sugar Pine was really special because it was the only one in sight.  I wondered what it would be like to spot a lone Ponderosa in a grove of Sugar Pines.  Is it the rarity that made it special, or would I perceive its specialness (sacredness?) regardless of numbers?

 I had a similar sensation when I spotted a small patch of very healthy-looking thistles blooming a bit down hill from the sacred site.  I thought it might be indicative of water close to the surface in an area that was otherwise bone dry in all directions.  Could this be the spot where the native peoples got their water?  Could it be that bad forestry practices have dried up an area that once had much more surface water?

 Then I came across what seemed like a spider crucifixion.  I realized quickly how easy it is to get carried away in a beautiful place.  I also realized that every thing I saw here was somehow connected to everything else and that what makes a place sacred, any place really, is my attitude toward it and my relationship with it. 

 I realized that I couldn't call a place sacred if my first impulse was to kill the ants or the spider.  Spending quiet time in a place like this makes it clearer why the native peoples would be horrified by the way the settlers treated it and them.  The native peoples never heard of Vitamin C, but they learned from centuries of experience beneficial relationships with the wild rose and many other plants of the area.

The California Rosa provides Vitamin C as well as a feast for the eyes in all seasons.  Best enjoyed in silence.

Random Images on a Hot Friday

 It was so hot and dry on the trail this morning that I was too lazy to take out my water bottle for a drink, and almost too lazy to use my camera.  I did manage to get a few interesting images, though.  The top photo is of Finger Galls on a leaf of Choke Cherry. These galls are the plant's reaction to the laying of eggs by a tiny mite.  The reaction creates a "home" in which the mites develop.  Many other galls are reactions to various flies, wasps, and other invertebrates.

The next photo is of a very exotic-looking caterpillar.  My son Greg captured this image today somewhere in Quincy.  I haven't yet identified the species of moth or butterfly that made it.

 We found a loaded Gooseberry bush along the Tollgate Creek trail.  I hope they'll survive until ripe. Some of the bushes that bear berries are so dry that they're either not producing berries, or the berries are very seedy and lack the usual amount of edible flesh.  I've found this year's Thimbleberries to be very bright red and attractive, but so full of seeds they aren't worth eating.

 We came across a patch of Sierra Mint where Tollgate Creek crosses the trail.  Nearly every plant in this group had one or more Bumblebees resting on it.  They were practically motionless and did not frighten easily.  I'm not sure if it was still too cool for their usual activity or if they were mesmerized by the pollen of the mint.

 My usual spot for pointing out Yerba Santa is by Spanish Creek on a path between Oakland Camp and Gilson Creek.  They are now all wilted and very dry.  On the railroad tracks 100 feet above this path there was a group of Yerba Santa that looked as fresh and shiny as if it were spring and they were still blooming.  To my eyes, this was an even harsher environment than the first one and I can't account for the healthier-looking plants.  Maybe a mystery person has been watering them.

 The Snowy Thistle are blooming along the railroad track and looking bright and beautiful.

Friday Morning Bug

 The pressure to mow the lawn again is trickling in from various unnamed sources.  I decided before performing that act, which I always resist, I had better inspect my daisies - weeds, you know - to see if the usual mid- to late-summer visitors have arrived.  Only one daisy had a bug big enough to see with the unaided eye.  Click on either of these photos for a closer view. 

It happened to be one of my favorites, the Pacific Ambush Bug, Phymata pacifica.  Once these bugs make their appearance, they tend to reside within inches of the same spot for several weeks.  They don't move fast and are very reluctant to fly.  They just lie in wait with their over-sized front "forearms" for other bugs to crawl or fly within their grasp, then ZAP, they are grabbed and slowly eaten.  I've seen one in the process of devouring a grasshopper while it was still alive and struggling to escape.  If greatly magnified and filmed, this could be the stuff of horror movies.  While I plan to mow the lawn this weekend, I am comforted to know that soon there will be many ambush bugs residing on the Tansy and other flowers along the trails in the woods.  One of the main trails into Boyle Ravine is a particularly good spot to view the activities of the Ambush Bug.

Evidence of Dining

 The Red Milkweed Beetle, Tetraopes basalis, feasting on Showy Milkweed, Asclepias speciosa.