Category: plants

Readers’ wildlife photos

June 4, 2026 • 8:15 am

Reader Mark Joseph, inspired by my post on leucistic Australian ducks, went in an example and some other photos. Mark’s captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

Your post this morning coincidentally arrived as did this photo from a person in our birdwatching group; it’s a leucistic house finch (Haemorhous mexicanus):

And, to give you a small set instead of a singleton, here are a couple of my feeble efforts, all taken with an iPhone in suburban southwestern Michigan. Hopefully, you can use them. I know even less about flowers and insects than I do about birds, so all identifications are courtesy of Gemini.

A zinnia (This specific variety is likely a Zinnia elegans, such as the ‘Canary Bird’ or ‘Benary’s Giant Yellow’ cultivar”) with a bumblebee (“specifically consistent with the Common Eastern Bumblebee, Bombus impatiens). I have enjoyed taking photos of flowers and insects together:

Spotted Knapweed (Centaurea stoebe, sometimes classified as Centaurea maculosa). Unfortunately, it is invasive:

A crabapple tree and a closeup.  This closeup helps narrow it down to a Sargent Crabapple (Malus sargentii) or a Siberian Crabapple (Malus baccata).

Sargent Crabapple (Malus sargentii) or a Siberian Crabapple (Malus baccata):

This is a Big Brown Bat (Eptesicus fuscus) or a Little Brown Bat (Myotis lucifugus).These two species look nearly identical from a distance and are the two most common bats found roosting on residential brick walls across North America.

Brown marmorated stink bug (Halyomorpha halys).When we first moved here and I decided to take some pictures, I got all excited because I was able to get a really good picture. Then I found out it was a stink bug, and invasive to boot. So, not a new species of peacock. But, it’s one of the things evolution has produced. Order Hemiptera, the “true bugs.”

A Shaggy Inkcap (Coprinus comatus), commonly known as a Shaggy Mane or Lawyer’s Wig. The next day the cap is just black goo, and the day after, nothing is left but the stem:

Readers’ wildlife photos

June 2, 2026 • 8:15 am

Do send in your photos if you have good one; we are missing many regulars, though I won’t drop names.

But today we have some plant photos by Rik Gern of Austin, Texas. Rik’s captions and IDs are indented, and, as always, you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them:

Here are some pictures of a mushroom that isn’t conventionally attractive, but is interesting nonetheless. This Hairy Hexagonia ( Hexagoia hydnoides) has been growing on the stump of a Hackberry tree (Celtis occidentalis) in my front yard for some time now.

This mushroom has no stem and hardens over time. I tapped on it, and it appears to have the density of balsa wood.  The underside has striped bands and you can see the small cylindrical spores.

Before it hardened, the mushroom was soft enough for blades of grass to grow through, and poke out the top:

The cap is convex and in addition to being banded like the underside, is covered with small hairs:

This closeup makes the hairs look wet, but they are dry and brittle:

Another closeup gives the impression of a hilly, arid landscape:

The impulse to anthropomorphize must really run deep, because when I look at this picture of two Hairy Hexagonia caps touching I think of courtship and a gentle reaching out!:

I use the app Seek by iNaturalist to identify species, and the next mushroom shows the limits of relying on that app. These popped up on the ground next to the Hairy Hexagonia during a rainy spell. Unlike the Hexagonia, they lasted only a few days. iNaturalist consistently gave me two different answers depending on the vantage point I used when talking pictures. The choices it gave me were Pale Brittlestem (Candolleomyces candolleanus) and Coprinopsis strossmayer, for which I could find only the Latin name, but no common name. Of the two, I’d pick Pale Brittlestem because an image search shows mushrooms that look more like the ones I saw, but it serves a reminder that any identification made thru an app is provisional.

Anyway, I thought the gills on these two looked cool, so I accentuated them a little:

Readers’ wildlife photos

May 26, 2026 • 8:30 am

News is pretty scant as it’s just the same-old same-old, but I have a few stray wildlife photos to exhibit today. I’m all out of photos excerpt for these, so please send in your good wildlife snaps. In all the photos below, readers’ captions are indented and, as always, you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

First, from Scott Ritchie, his favorite photograph of Australia’s golden-shouldered parrot (Psephotellus chrysopterygius), an endangered species and the world’s only parrot that lives in termite mounds.

Bob Jochums sent two photos of Barred owls (Strix varia) taken outside Atlanta, Georgia.

A family “portrait” (minus Papa) on the “veranda” of the nest box.

An earlier photo of Mama leaving the nest box to get a little time to herself … or to hunt for food or nuzzle with Papa.

From Claudia Baker:

Red-headed woodpecker (Melanerpes erythrocephalus), picking at the rail fence along the front of my property, in Eastern Ontario,  in July 2023. I have never seen one around here before, so was quite excited to get pictures of it. Can’t tell if it’s male or female, as the sexes are similar. It is the only eastern woodpecker with an entire head that is red. Their range is East of the Rockies from southern Canada to the Gulf states. They apparently will hide foot in crevices of wood and return for it later, so maybe this is what it was doing. In any case, it dug around in this rail fence for awhile, long enough for me to get several pictures.

It will hide insects and seeds in cracks in wood, under bark, in fenceposts, and under roof shingles. Grasshoppers are regularly stored alive, but wedged into crevices so tightly that they cannot escape. It has many nicknames, including half-a-shirt, jellycoat, flag bird and the flying checker-board. I read that the Red-headed woodpecker was the “spark bird” (bird that starts a person’s interest in birds) of legendary ornithologist Alexander Wilson in the 1700s.

I did not know that there are worms in my rail fencing. Or maybe this worm was hidden by this gorgeous bird earlier and it came to claim its lunch.
Red-headed woodpeckers are fierce defenders of their territory. They may remove the eggs of other species from nest and nest boxes, destroy other birds’ nests and even enter duck nest boxes and puncture the duck eggs. (!)  Quite mean for so beautiful a bird!

I have not seen another since this one in 2023. The oldest Red-headed woodpecker on record was banded in 1926 in Michigan and lived to be at least 9 years, 11 months old.

My friend Cate, to her surprise and wonder, found white leucistic squirrels (a genetic variant of the Eastern Gray Squirrel, Sciurus carolinensis) living around her summer house in Michigan. There are several more photos in this thread, including the famous white squirrels of Olney, Illinois. which are albinos.

From Peggy Mason in Canada (see location at bottom):

These harbour seals (Phoca vitulina) were lying around on the rocks of Poise Island in Porpoise Bay in Sechelt, BC, Canada. There were five of them. They ranged from silvery white (the smallest, a baby I think) to black with some white markings.

This is the silvery white baby:

This is the very black one:

Here is the silvery white baby, possibly with its mother. That is what I thought – basically from their proximity and size difference – although I received no confirmatory data one way or the other on this:

Bonus pictures are a beautiful bald eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus), a juvenile judging by its coloring and some pretty pink flowers on Poise Island.:

And Peggy’s location:

Readers’ wildlife photos

May 25, 2026 • 8:15 am

Presumably you have put together a bunch of good wildlife photos this long weekend. Well, we need ’em, so please send them in. Thanks!

Today’s batch comes from Rik Gern of Austin, Texas, who sends us photos of seeds and seed pods. Rik’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them.

I’ve got some seeds and seed pods for you today. The pictures of seed pods were taken on a walk around the block last January before the plants were in bloom:

Crape Myrtle (Lagersrtoemia ‘Natchez’) is usually known by its extravagant frilly, petticoat-like flowers, but here are the rustic seed pods. (1&2) They are not as flamboyant as the flower, but attractive in their own right.

The pointed tips of the Red Yucca (Hesperaloe parviflora) pods make them a good companion to the rest of the plant with it’s stiff, aggressively pointed leaves. (3) The seeds in these pods are just starting to get exposed.

Unlike the Crepe Myrtle and the Red Yucca, the pods of the Mexican Buckeye (Ungnadia speciosa) hang down from the branch. They make me think of some ancient bells. The smooth polished look of the seeds contrasts nicely with the rough hewn, weathered look of the pod casing:

The next two examples come straight from the grocery store.

Here are a few seeds from a Red Delicious apple (Malus domestica). Their host was delicious!:

These Cantaloupe Melon (Cucumis melo) seeds (first photo below) made me think of textbook illustrations I saw of cell division when I was in school, so I did some digital daydreaming in the multiverse called Photoshop and played around until this emerged. I call it “Kaleidoscopic Mitosis” (second photo below):

Readers’ wildlife photos

May 18, 2026 • 8:15 am

Today we have some plant photo sent in by Rik Gern of Austin, Texas. Rik’s captions are indented, and you can click on his photos to enlarge them.  I have left the numbering of the photos to identify them since there is only one species.

I recently transplanted some Common onions (Allium cepa), and was thrilled to see them starting to bloom, but soon learned that a blooming (or bolting) onion has stopped growing the bulb and has put it’s energy into seed production. I guess that makes these onions food for the eyes rather than the stomach.

Prior to blooming, the stem (1) develops a bulge, and as the bulge gets larger it becomes translucent and you can see the umbel, or flower cluster starting to show thru (2). This made me think of the old Jiffy Pop popcorn pans!. Sometimes the flowers emerge with the petals closed (3 &4) and sometimes they seem to emerge in full bloom (5).

Photo 1:

Photo 2:

Photo 3:

Photo 4:

Photo 5:

I don’t know what the deal is with this little yellow flower (6), but I thought it looked pretty. Here is a flower prior to blooming (7), and another that is a little further along (8). The blooming flower reveals the fruit capsule (9).

Photo 6:

Photo 7:

Photo 8:

Photo 9:

No sooner do the stamens emerge to attract pollinators than spiders lay out their silk in order to trap and feast upon the unsuspecting pollinators (10). Here is the inflorescence in full glory (11).

Photo 10:’

Photo 11:

These plants have a deep emotional significance for me, since they are transplanted from the garden of a dear friend who passed away recently. I’ve never gardened before, but I started this garden in his honor and as a way to continue the spirit of his friendship. I hope you will indulge me in a tribute to my friend.

Ron Akin was a one of a kind human being (Homo sapiens) who was a free spirited cosmic cowboy, Texas hippie, and an old fashioned Southern gentleman. He dropped out of the naval academy in Annapolis to spend years hitchhiking around the country, picking fruit, performing odd jobs and starting Just For Fun parades in various locations. The parade he started in San Marcos, TX just celebrated its 49th year, and was held in his honor. He also played bass with garage band par excellence, The Callous Taoboys. I met Ron at The Dell ‘Arte School of Mime and Comedy in Blue Lake, California in 1982, and after that we spent five freewheeling summers performing as clowns at the Schlitterbahn water park in New Braunfels, TX. We remained friends for the rest of his life, and I used to visit him at his home in the country where he had a garden full of onions, garlic, and all sorts of peppers. We’d spend days smoking the harvest from his garden on his grill, as well as all sorts of meats, and sit on the porch until late at night stuffing our faces and enjoying life. I never met a more free spirited, true-to-himself human being.

Here is Ron as The FreeDumb Fairy (alter ego of the lowly janitor Freiheit Gazoontite) at Schlitterbahn, participating in the Just for Fun parade, and down home on the porch. You can also see his prodigious onion harvest!:

Ron:

I call my new garden a friendship garden, though I have to admit that it feels a little lonely right now. Hopefully the onions will be the bridge to new friendship.

Readers’ wildlife photos

May 14, 2026 • 8:15 am

UC Davis ecologist Susan Harrison has returned with some photos about serpentine ecology. Susan’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge her photos by clicking on them:

Serpentine ecology at The Cedars (Sonoma County, California)

“Serpentine” might be a familiar word if you live in a region with volcanos, earthquakes, and hot springs.  It’s an informal term for ultramafic (very high magnesium and iron) rocks, mainly serpentinite and its parent rock peridotite, as well as the soils formed from these rocks.  The common name comes from the often snakeskin-like appearance of serpentinite.  These rocks are twisted and fractured bits of the Earth’s mantle, first extruded into the ocean crust in midocean spreading centers, then fully or partly metamorphosed by hydration, and finally scraped onto land during the sliding of one tectonic plate under another – this last process being what also produces “ring of fire” volcanos and earthquake zones around the world.

Serpentinite:

Partly serpentinized peridotite:

Botanists and plant evolutionists have long been drawn to the unusual flora of serpentine.  Most plant species are intolerant of its harsh chemistry, especially the scarcity of calcium relative to magnesium, and space is thereby opened for hardier species to adapt and sometimes even speciate on serpentine.  In California’s flora of around 5,500 full species there are just over 1,000 “tolerators” that can grow either on or off of serpentine, and an estimated 255 “endemics” entirely restricted to this difficult soil.

Serpentine endemic plants in California include multiple Jewelflowers (genus Streptanthus, Brassicaceae), which have been studied to understand soil-driven adaptation and speciation.

Hoffman’s Bristly Jewelflower (Streptanthus glandulosus ssp. hoffmani):

Morrison’s Jewelflower (Streptanthus morrisoni), a non-flowering first-year individual:

Serpentine tolerators, like the Sickle-leaved Onion (Allium falcifolium), grow on varied soils.  Sometimes they show adaptive genetic differences between populations on and off of serpentine.

Sickle-leaved Onions:

Today’s photos are from a May 2026 excursion to one of the most remarkable serpentine sites in the world: The Cedars in western Sonoma County, California.  This site was named for its vast stands of Sargent’s Cypress (Cupressus sargentii), a serpentine-endemic tree.

The Cedars:

Part of The Cedars’ magic is that it’s a large (30 square km) and well-isolated block of serpentine within a benign coastal climate.  This seems to be a winning formula for promoting plant evolution, as witness four full species and three subspecies found nowhere else in the world.  Here are two species discovered by botanist Roger Raiche, who devoted decades to exploring and protecting The Cedars.

The Cedars Fairy Lantern (Calochortus raichei):

The Cedars Buckwheat (Eriogonum cedrorum):

A second charm of The Cedars is the surprising abundance of water in its austere landscape, probably because fractured serpentine rock masses tend to store rainwater and release it slowly, and also because many streams on serpentine have chemically cemented beds that create deep pools.  Streambanks here are fringed by Western Azalea (Rhododendron occidentale), Serpentine Columbine (Aquilegia eximia), and the two showy orchids shown below.

California Lady’s Slipper (Cypripedium californicum):

Giant Stream Orchid (Epipactis gigantea var. rubriflorum; photo by Nishanta Rajakaruna): \

The piece de resistance, sine qua non, ne plus ultra of The Cedars is its mineral springs. Until geologists discovered the strange chemistry of these springs in the 1960s, it was not known that serpentinization, the hydration of mantle rock, could occur in near-surface terrestrial environments.  Serpentinization supports anaerobic microbes that are collectively the most abundant life form on Earth; they are considered strong candidates for the origin of life, as well as for the possibility of life on other planets.

The spring known as Mineral Falls:

Part of the spring known as Wedding Cake:

Animal life is relatively scarce on serpentine. Here are two of only 8 bird species we saw in a full day at The Cedars.

Violet-Green Swallow (Tachycineta thalassina) hunting above Austin Creek:

Peregrine Falcon (Falco peregrinus) perched in the middle of a towering cliff:

JAC: I told Susan I couldn’t see the falcon, so she sent me a photo with the bird circled:

My friend Nishanta Rajakaruna has devoted his career to studying serpentine ecosystems around the world.   On field trips like this one, he collects photos of people leaping.

Leaping on serpentine (photo by Nishanta Rajakaruna; that’s me on the right):

Readers’ wildlife photos

May 5, 2026 • 8:15 am

Today’s photos come from reader Jan Malik, who took pictures of wildflowers in the Catskills. Jan’s photos and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge them by clicking on them.

During my recent hike in the Catskills, near Woodstock, NY, I found some spring flowers, ephemerals as they call them. They are hardy plants that use the narrow window between snow disappearance and tree leaves developing to get nearly all of their photosynthesis done for the year. They seem delicate but they need to withstand temperatures well below freezing – it was snowing on the second day of my hike and these plants weathered it just fine. To use this quick growth strategy, these plants have to be perennials, with underground roots, tubers or bulbs preserving the nutrients. All of these are native to the Northeast – there is no shortage of “undocumented” plants in the Catskills but I haven’t included them here.

Bluets (Houstonia caerulea), not so common in the Catskills. They are more widespread in acidic regions like the White Mountains of New Hampshire or generally in acidic soil:

Red trillium (Trillium erectum), with their flowers pointing down (I had to get low to take this picture) despite the second part of their binomial; that part of the name refers to an upright stalk. Their close cousin, the white-petaled Painted trillium is rare in the Catskills, preferring more acidic soils of the Adirondacks:

Spring beauties (Claytonia virginica), were everywhere, their flowers opening as soon as the temperature was high enough for the small insects to fly. They have a variable amount of pink in the petals, some plants produce them very pale and some very pink:

Dutchman’s breeches (Dicentra cucullaria) have flower shape quite similar to the Bleeding hearts, and they are indeed in the same family Papaveraceae:

Downy yellow violet (Viola pubescens). I think the black stripes have the same function as landing strips on an airfield, guiding pollinators to nectar:

There were many blue violets, this one is probably a Selkirk’s Violet (Viola selkirkii):

Canada violet (Viola canadensis) has flowers growing from a tall stalk, unlike other violets. There were other violets too in that wood, each species with unique preference for moisture, sun exposure, acidity etc.:

A lovely plant, Catskills’ specialty – ramps (Allium tricoccum), or wild leeks as some call them. They don’t bloom until late May or June, when leaves will have withered. In early spring the leaves are juicy, fragrant and tender, can be stewed, fried or just eaten raw with a sandwich. I collect them by picking one leaf from a plant (there are two to three leaves per plant), which should not kill it. The underground bulb is also delicious, reportedly, but I could never bring myself to kill it. Ramps developed their chemical defences (thiosulfinates) against animal browsing, and while deer eat it only in an emergency, for great apes it is perversely a culinary attraction. Waking up to a chill morning and leaning out of the tent to collect a few leaves for breakfast is what makes early spring hiking in the Catskills so special:

Hobble-bush (Viburnum lantanoides) flowers grow from a woody shrub. The plant can spread vegetatively, by sending its twigs low on the ground and forming roots. Hobblebush thicket can be a real obstacle for an off-trail hiker, but the plant redeems itself by developing tasty berries (ripe when black) in fall. These berries are in short supply though as thrushes get to them first:

Wild oats (Uvularia sessilifolia), not much to do with cereals, just droopy leaves resembling ears of real oats:

Dwarf ginseng (Panax trifolius) has edible underground tubers. These plants are too rare in the Catskills to dig one up and try cooking it, though:

Crinkle root (Cardamine diphylla). It is a member of the mustard family and its leaves are edible (as a salad or stewed) when young:

Blue cohosh (Caulophyllum thalictroides) in its purple-petal variant. Later in summer, the plant will produce round dark-blue berries, somewhat similar to individual grapes. They look quite attractive but are said to be poisonous. Always eager to engage in culinary biology, I once tried to bite on a berry and can assure you there is no risk of being poisoned – the taste is so awful that swallowing it is out of the question:

Trout lily (Erythronium americanum) gets its name from spots on its leaves, which are not unlike those on the fish. There were plenty of those plants in the open Catskill forest, but only a small portion of them are in bloom. They need to grow for a couple years, collecting nutrients in their tubers before becoming mature: