Why Evolution is True is a blog written by Jerry Coyne, centered on evolution and biology but also dealing with diverse topics like politics, culture, and cats.
A reader sent me this recently-published YouTube video titled, “Frog saves fishes life.” (It’s in Spanish, but you can see what’s going on.) The reader asked a reasonable question: why would a frog do this for fish, since they’re unrelated, unless it wanted to eat the fish later?
Well, as you can see, they’re not fish. What is going on here is that these are likely the frog’s own offspring, so we have not a demonstration of enigmatic inter-species altruism, but simply kin selection. And even if only a few of the many tadpoles (not fish!) are the frog’s progeny, it still benefits its own genes to dig that trench:
Here’s a melange of photos from several readers. The first two, of disparate subjects, come from Tim Anderson in Australia:
This picture shows the Milky Way rising from the south-east of Mudgee, New South Wales. It is a 30-second exposure taken with a Canon 6D and a Samyang 14mm f2.8 wide angle lens on top of a Skywatcher Star Adventurer mount.
The Southern Cross is towards the bottom middle of the picture, with the bright Carina Nebula above it. The Drop Bear Nebula is off to the right.
This is a Black-shouldered Kite (Elanus axillaris), a common predatory bird in southern inland Australia. It is apparently a juvenile (which have tan patching on the shoulders and breast).
Unlike the closely-related Letter-winged Kite (Elanus scriptus), which is commonly employed by Australia Post to deliver mail in country areas, the Black-shouldered Kite lacks useful employment as it is unable to read. Instead it sits about in trees eyeing off the neighbourhood rodents. I found this one perched on the topmost twig of a eucalypt beside the Old Bara Road outside Mudgee, New South Wales.
These come from reader Chris Knight-Griffin, who sent some frog photos from Clermont, Florida. Can anyone identify the species?
Anne-Marie Cournoyer took these photos from the Parc National du Mont-St. Bruno, a small park (8.8 km²) near Montréal.
The birds in the park are very tame and will fly into your hand. Here’s a photo of Anne-Marie’s partner, Claude, who is clearly the Chickadee Whisperer:
While we were observing this Eastern chipmunk (Tamias striatus), we realised we were not the only one having an interest in the little fellow! Somebody came flying between us. Did the chipmunk get caught? Not this time!
Anne-Marie would like an identification of the bird. . .
I’m off tomorrow, and until March 2 I will be writing only sporadically. Grania has promised to do a few posts, so bear with us. It’s February 20 (don’t forget that it’s a leap year), and on this day in 1816, Rossini’s “The Barber of Seville” premiered in Rome. In 1872, the Metropolitan Museum of Art opened in Rome, in 1877 Tchaikovsky’s “Swan Lake” premiered at the Bolshoi Theater in Moscow, and, in 1962, John Glenn became the first astronaut to orbit the Earth, an event I remember well. Births on this day included Louis Kahn (1901), Ansel Adams (1902), Robert Altman (1925), Walter Becker of Steely Dan (1950), and Cindy Crawford (1966), who turns 50 today. Those who died on this day include Frederick Douglass (1895), Hunter Thompson (2005), and Alexander Haig (2010). Meanwhile in Dobrzyn, Hili is musing about prayer while sitting on Sarah’s lap:
Hili: Cats on human’s knees have different thoughts than when humans are on their own knees.
A: I suspect you’re right.
(Photo: Sarah Lawson)
In Polish:
Hili: Koty na kolanach mają inny rodzaj refleksji niż ludzie na kolanach.
Ja: Podejrzewam, że masz rację.
(Zdjęcie: Sarah Lawson)
And a bonus: a Northern Leopard Frog (Lithobates pipiens), sent by Anne-Marie Cournoyer, whose dog turned it up (but didn’t hurt it):
This is a lovely beast, and I can confirm that it made it to the sea, but that’s only the beginning of its troubles. Baby sea turtles are the buffet of the sea, and until they get big enough to resist predators they have a precarious life. I almost wish this one had been taken into captivity and kept permanently or at least until it was larger. Its lack of coloration makes it an easy target, and its unpigmented eyes mean that it probably can’t see to well, either.
My old friend Andrew Berry, who teaches and advises biology undergraduates at Harvard, recently went on a trip en famille to the Galápagos—as a lecturer on a university alumni cruise. He’s a good photographer, using the same Panasonic Lumix camera as I do, and he sent me a selection of what he calls his “holiday snaps.” There’s a video at the end, too. Captions are Andrew’s.
Female sea turtle somewhat grumpily emerging from the water to lay her eggs. Presumably Pacific Green Turtle, Chelonia mydas. Floreana, with Isla Campeon in the background.
Lava gull goofing around, San Cristobal. Larus fuligionosus, endemic.
A sea lion unmoved by considerations of comfort when it comes to finding a spot of a bit of a lie-down. Zalophus californianus.
Marine iguana, icon of the Galapagos. Amblyrhynchus cristatus, endemic. San Cristobal. Darwin’s encounter was crudely experimental: “I threw one several times as far as I could, into a deep pool left by the retiring tide; but it invariably returned in a direct line to the spot where I stood. It swam near the bottom, with a very graceful and rapid movement, and occasionally aided itself over the uneven ground with its feet. As soon as it arrived near the edge, but still being under water, it tried to conceal itself in the tufts of sea-weed, or it entered some crevice. As soon as it thought the danger was past, it crawled out on the dry rocks, and shuffled away as quickly as it could. I several times caught this same lizard, by driving it down to a point, and though possessed of such perfect powers of diving and swimming, nothing would induce it to enter the water; and as often as I threw it in, it returned in the manner above described. Perhaps this singular piece of apparent stupidity may be accounted for by the circumstance, that this reptile has no enemy whatever on shore, whereas at sea it must often fall a prey to the numerous sharks. Hence, probably, urged by a fixed and hereditary instinct that the shore is its place of safety, whatever the emergency may be, it there takes refuge.”
Española mockingbird, Nesomimus macdonaldi. One of four species of Galápagos mockingbirds, each one on a different island. Darwin recognized differences among islands, but it wasn’t until he talked in London to the ornithologist John Gould that he came to appreciate that the differences were sufficient to qualify the mockingbirds as separate species. This Española species is particularly tame; here one is investigating the contents of my backpack.
Española mockingbird, Nesomimus macdonaldi, on the beach at Gardner Bay. This is a mockingbird territorial face-off. Galapagos mockingbirds are co-operative breeders, meaning that a few individuals breed, and others help out. They form cooperative groups of as many as 25 individuals, which defend their group territories using the remarkable “dance” seen in the video at bottom (shot at the same time as the photo above was taken).
Land iguana,Conolophus subcristatus, Baltra Island. Endemic. Darwin was a little unkind about this species: “Ugly animals, of a yellowish orange beneath and of a brownish red colour above: from their low facial angle they have a singularly stupid appearance”
Giant tortoise,Geochelone elephantopus, Santa Cruz. Endemic. Darwin famously missed the boat on this species. He was told upon arrival in the Galapagos that it was possible to tell from the structure of a tortoise’s carapace the island from which it was derived. However, he failed to follow up on this and his discovery of the role of geographic isolation in the genetic divergence of populations had to wait. He preferred instead, it seems, to ride the beasts: “I was always amused when overtaking one of these great monsters as it was quietly pacing along, to see how suddenly, the instant I passed it, it would draw in its head and legs, and uttering a deep hiss fall to the ground with a heavy sound, as if struck dead. I frequently go on their backs, and then, giving a few raps on the hinder part of their shells, they would rise up and walk away — but I found it very difficult to keep my balance.”
Andrew also sent a video with these notes:
Española mockingbird, Nesomimus macdonaldi, on the beach at Gardner Bay. This is a mockingbird territorial face-off, with two groups noisily contesting a territory boundary. Galapagos mockingbirds are co-operative breeders, meaning that a few individuals breed, and others help out. They form cooperative groups of as many as 25 individuals, who defend their group territories using the remarkable “dance” seen here. Video by Megan Berry.
Reader Ivar Husa shares more of his photos with us: three birds and a reptile today.
I could hardly resist the invitation to share more birds. I hope you and the viewers enjoy these, too.
These were all taken within reach of Tucson, AZ last May, when I attended my daughter’s commencement from ASU (MED, Masters of Educational Development, Behavioral Analysis).
I was never told about the “birds and bees” when I was a kid, with the result that I harbored many misconceptions until I was in my early teens. I won’t go into the gruesome details of my ignorance and their consequences, but if you’re a parent, talk to your kids. They’re gonna have sex whether or not you tell them the facts, so they might as well know the facts.
I’m backed up the The Reasoning Atheist, who tw**ted this:
