The world's deadliest animals, part 2

Well, deadly if you are a checkerspot butterfly, anyway. There are birds and various other critters that will be eager to gobble you up, including crab spiders. Something about this webby dried up weed must have attracted the attention of the checkerspot... its last mistake, alas.

The world's deadliest animals...

... according to Our World in Data. Mosquitoes come in first, and humans second. Snakes are a distant third, followed by dogs. All of that is plausible to me. These guys do good work, and I trust their research, but I was surprised that neither fleas nor the rodents that carry them made the list. Surely the plague, tamed though it may be, still carries off more humans than the sharks that account for only six fatalities per year. And ticks? Nada? 

(Image: Wikipedia)

California state animals and plants: proposed updates

California is a great state, and the California poppy is one of the best things about it. Keep the poppy.

I nominate the dark-eyed junco for new state bird. It is found everywhere you go– city, suburbs, farmland, chaparral, forests– and is even more ubiquitous than the admittedly appealing California quail, the current office holder. If it weren't so damn common, we'd find the junco more lovely and charming. Now it is true that our subspecies of dark-eyed junco used to be called the Oregon junco, which may be off-putting to some chauvinistic Californians. But Oregon's state bird is the western meadowlark; I see no big problem here. We'd also be the first state to have a variety of sparrow as state bird.

The current state reptile is the desert tortoise. I've never seen one outside a zoo, and frankly, there's a better option here: the western fence lizard. Not only are they everywhere, brightening your day as they scurry off the trail or fencepost right in front of you, but they offer all of us protection against Lyme disease by killing the bacteria when ticks feed on their blood. Well, it's a nice story anyway, even if it ain't necessarily so. The Pacific rattlesnake would be an excellent alternative.

The incumbent state tree is the coast redwood. I like the redwood just fine, but overall it is not a particularly beautiful tree, selected presumably for its age and stature. Its cousin, the giant sequoia, is a much more charismatic tree, but its range is very restricted and it may not survive climate change.

My nomination is the valley oak, a glorious tree: the largest North American oak, it is endemic to California and widespread in the central valley. Leave it to Wikipedia to offer us a poetic description: "The branches have an irregular, spreading and arching appearance that produce a profound leafless silhouette in the clear winter sky. During Autumn leaves turn a yellow to light orange color but become brown during mid to late fall. In advancing age the branches assume a drooping characteristic. Its pewter-colored rippled bark adds to the attractive aesthetic of this species." Exactly so.

The state mammal, the grizzly bear, is extinct in California, which makes it a sad joke, and, Cal Bears notwithstanding, it ought to be replaced. The black bear would be a good choice, or of course the mule deer, tule elk, coyote, or mountain lion. These are all excellent, charismatic critters, but a little unoriginal. I would go with the dusky-footed woodrat, an industrious if retiring animal, and super-cute.

Your FSA/OWI Photo of the Day

Washington, D.C. Hippopotamus in the zoo begging for peanuts. John Ferrell, 1942.

David Brooks disses porcupines everywhere...

"If Reagan’s dominant emotional note was optimism, Trump’s is fear.... It’s not a cowering, timid fear; it’s more a dark, resentful porcupine fear." NY Times.

Having encountered porcupines in the woods now and then over the years, I'd have to say they never strike me as being particularly fearful (why would they be?), let alone dark or resentful. More charming and bumbling. Un-Trumpian.

Do Gorillas Even Belong in Zoos?

Good question. The obvious answer is an emphatic "No." I say this as a zoo-lover and frequent observer of gorillas and other primates at the San Francisco Zoo. The more nuanced and utilitarian answer calls for an answer to another question: Can zoos help humans appreciate the moral standing of gorillas and other animals, and therefore prevent their annihilation? I am aware that it is a self-serving conceit of the zoo-lover to answer "yes," but for that, it may still be true. The correct position is Peter Singer's. Can we be objective enough to act on it?

Peter Singer, a bioethicist at Princeton University, said, “Our primary concern ought to be the well-being of gorillas, but zoos are constructed the other way around: The primary concern is that humans can see the gorillas.”

The meek may not inherit the earth...

... but the tardigrades surely will...

Confronted with drying, rapid temperature changes, changes in water salinity or other problems, tardigrades can curtail their metabolism to 0.01 percent of normal, entering a kind of suspended animation in which they lose “the vast, vast, vast majority of their body water,” Dr. Siddall said. They curl up into something called a “tun.” 

Tuns can be subjected to atmospheric pressure 600 times that of the surface of Earth, and they will bounce right back. They can be chilled to more than 300 degrees Fahrenheit below zero for more than a year, no problem. The European Space Agency once sent tuns into space: Two-thirds survived simultaneous exposure to solar radiation and the vacuum of space. 

Without water, “the damaging effects of freezing cannot happen,” Dr. Siddall explained. “It protects against heat because the water inside cannot turn into a gas that expands.” Even radiation needs water to do damage, he said. When cosmic radiation hits water in a cell, it produces a highly reactive form of oxygen that damages cell DNA. The tun doesn’t have this problem.

Tuns have been reconstituted after more than a century and brought back to life as tardigrades, looking not a day older.

Holy crap. Photo:

Fun rodent fact of the day

The beaver's closest relatives are the pocket gopher and the kangaroo rat. Go figure!

Photo credit

Marmot Day

Our California version of the groundhog is the delightful yellow-bellied marmot. I hope they see their shadow tomorrow, because we sure as hell need more winter out here... as in precipitation.

Pattycake, RIP

I inherited a love of zoos from Dad. I still visit them often and with enthusiasm, but not without mixed emotions. It is difficult seeing the big cats unfree, but on the other hand I know that my own unfree cat seems content. The tiger... not so sure. The chimps always seem angry, neurotic... they should not be in captivity, period, except possibly to preserve the species. Certainly to be on display is beneath their dignity. The gorillas are in some ways the saddest and most opaque. What are they thinking, as they make the rounds of their "habitat" and studiously ignore the crowds of gawking visitors? And they are thinking...

Mammoth trouble

I've read that maybe we could clone one and bring them back...

The Grey

I doubt I'll be seeing this one, but if I do, I'll be rooting for the wolves big time.

More rat nests

Some very fine work (by the rats, not necessarily the photographer). See the other highlights of today's hike here.

From Woodrat project, vol. 2

Good news for chimps

It won't satisfy everyone, but this is good news. That chimps deserve "special consideration and respect" seems obviously correct to me, and not because they share most of their genes with us, but because they have moral standing. How do I know that? I know it when I see it. You do too. Or if not, let Peter Singer convince you.

Rat-bloggin'

There are many great animal builders on our planet, but very few of them are mammals, with the notable exception of our own species. Beyond humans, beavers are certainly the best known. But pound for pound our local dusky-footed woodrat (Neotoma fuscipes) gives the beaver a run for its money. Woodrats build conical dens from sticks and twigs that can be a meter or more in height, and just as big across... not bad for a critter that is, well, rat-size.

The woodrat is alleged to be a solitary creature, which makes the relative scale of the den all the more impressive. How do they do it, and why? Solitary notwithstanding, the dens are often found in groups not far from one another, stick huts in a woodsy village. One can't help thinking there is some kind of secret nocturnal social life going on here after all.

As engineers, woodrats are opportunists, taking advantage of brush piles, fallen trees, and thickets to provide support for their structures. As a consequence, getting a clear line for a photo can be a challenge. On the other hand, there is a kind of busy, chaotic beauty to the setting of most woodrat dens. My first attempt to capture this beauty, including the following, can be found here. I expect it won't be my last.

From Woodrat project, vol. 1

The Great Hamster of Alsace...

... sounds like it could be the title of a Church official of some sort, or a delicious French preparation, or perhaps a psychedelic band. But no, it is in fact an endangered critter, and one of those fortunate critters that is both handsome and adorable... like George Clooney I suppose.