Leap of faith

 

At various times in the past, Eric has challenged me to find and photograph a frog for leap year.  I'm happy to say that 2020 is the year I was successful!

 

Here's the crazy thing.  This is the most common frog in our area, but I'm not sure what to call it.  The taxonomy is confusing and obviously more work is needed to sort out this issue.  

I'll call it a Sierran Treefrog (Pseudacris sierra) for now...but you might also see it called a Pacific Treefrog (Pseudacris regilla), and you might see the scientific name as Hyliola sierra.  In previous posts I have also called it a Pacific Chorus Frog, but the official checklist of the Society for the Study of Amphibians and Reptiles (2017) uses treefrog, so that's what I'll use.

Happy 2020 Leap Year!

Gray on gray

 

Northern Harrier (Circus hudsonius) with a Pacific Ocean backdrop, 28 February 2020.

Moonset

 

Approaching moonset, 26 February 2020

 

The polyp that packs a wallop

Okay, here's the follow-up to last night's post, "The little one with the long tentacles."  

Below is another photo showing a different individual, but the same type of animal:

 

And here are two close-ups showing the stinging tentacles, and a view of the mouth area in the middle of the ring of tentacles:

 

 

The stinging tentacles are a clue that this is a cnidarian (i.e., the group that contains jellyfish, sea anemones, corals, etc.).  But which one is it?

Because this stage of the life cycle is so small (only a few millimeters long), many people haven't seen it before.

These are jellyfish polyps (also known as scyphistomae)!  Eric found them growing on sea squirts at the Spud Point Marina docks.  

Referring to the diagram below, the basic life cycle goes like this: free-swimming adult medusae release gametes (eggs or sperm); a fertilized egg develops into a planula larva; the planula eventually settles and undergoes metamorphosis into a benthic (bottom-dwelling) polyp; the polyp eventually undergoes fission — i.e., it buds off tiny juvenile medusae (called ephyrae) that eventually grow into the adults to complete the life cycle.

 

Modified from:  Living Invertebrates by Vicki Pearse, John Pearse, Mildred Buchsbaum, and Ralph Buchsbaum.  1987.  Blackwell Sci. Pub. and Boxwood Press.

In the image below, the polyp might be in the early stages of strobilation (note the banding pattern in the polyp):

 

And here's one more showing the beautiful but deadly tentacles (at least to tiny, microscopic prey):

 

P.S.  I'm not sure which species of jellyfish this is, but perhaps someone will recognize it and let us know.

The little one with long tentacles

Here's one for you to wonder about overnight.  Can you guess what type of animal it is?

 

Belly full

I went out to check on a few things late this afternoon (22 February 2020).  I didn't expect to be out long, so I didn't have a larger camera with me.  Luckily, I had a smaller point-and-shoot in my pocket, because I happened upon this wonderful River Otter (Lontra canadensis):

 

As you can see, the otter was feeding on a fairly large fish.  The fish was large enough that the otter was very focused on it and took a long time to finish it.  Then the otter slipped back into the water, dove and swirled around in a tidal channel, and emerged on a small rocky island to survey the scene:

 

I like this landscape shot of the otter in its home:

 

And here's one more that I couldn't resist sharing.  The view is distant and a little fuzzy, but check out the otter lying on its back with a belly full of fish.  Not such a bad way to end the day!

 

Colors all around

If you've been following this blog for a while, you know that I have a bit of a fascination for the colors and patterns in foam bubbles.  Spring is a good time of year to look for this.  There was some foam in the intertidal zone tonight, and I couldn't choose a favorite image, so I've included a few examples.  

 

 

Here's a close-up that's appropriate for tomorrow, 2/22/2020 (below).  Can you find the #2?

 

(There's a small #2 on the left side of the picture, tilted on its side.)

Pisaster palette

I've been busy with field surveys recently, so here's a quick photo from the rocky intertidal zone:

 

Ochre Sea Stars (Pisaster ochraceus) — in three color forms — and Giant Green Anemones (Anthopleura xanthogrammica)

 

Hold on to that shell

I've been doing some photo organization, so here's one of the last images I sorted tonight — Lottia asmi, a small dark limpet that often lives on Black Turban Snails, photographed on 24 February 2018.

 

Banded mystery

After finishing field work on 11 January 2020, we were walking up a trail when I saw this large invertebrate crossing the beam of my headlamp (it was ~8 p.m.):

 

It was ~6.5 cm (2.5 inches) long, which is sizable for a terrestrial invertebrate in this area.

I didn't know what it was, so I took a few pictures for the record.  At home, I did some searching on the Internet to try to figure out what it might be, but I didn't have any luck.  It was puzzling that such a striking invertebrate could be so hard to identify.

I thought it might be a beetle larva, but I couldn't find a good match online.  The days went by, but the memory of this mystery critter lingered in the back of my mind.  I tried online searches several more times, but with the same lack of results.  What was it?

Here are close-ups of the head and tail ends:

 

 

Last night I decided to submit a picture to BugGuide.Net to see if someone could help with the identification.  Not too long after, I received a response that it might be a beetle in the Phengodidae family.

I checked it out and it looks like a good match.  More specifically, this is probably a Western Banded Glowworm (Zarhipis integripennis).

I hadn't learned about this species before, but it's a fascinating beetle with a remarkable life history.  A few fun facts:

- Yes, they do glow!  But just not at the tail end (like a firefly), but at each of the segments, so there are luminous green bands along the back.  (Rather than being involved in courtship, the glowing might be defensive, signaling that the glowworms are unpalatable.)

- The adult males look like a fairly typical adult beetle (with very feathery antennae), but the adult females are completely different.  The adult females are "larviform," which means they look just like the larvae.

 - The larvae are voracious millipede predators.  The description of their feeding behavior was almost shocking to me.  It read like a lion attack on the Serengeti.  It's not for the faint of heart!  If you're curious: 

"When a Zarhipis larva discovers a milliped, it races alongside the milliped until it can mount its back...When mounted, the larva throws a coil around the milliped with its last abdominal segments and uses the tenth abdominal segment in an opposable manner to aid its grip.  It then stretches full length to reach for the most vulnerable part of the milliped's exoskeleton — the articulating membrane (where the main nerve is near the surface) between the head and the first body segment on the ventral side.  The larva severs the main nerve with its sickle-shaped mandibles, paralyzing the milliped."  (Tiemann 1967)

The glowworm larva then brings the paralyzed millipede underground, eats the head first and then proceeds to tunnel through the body of the millipede eating all of its soft parts and leaving only the hard exoskeleton behind.

We've seen lots of millipedes along the trail we were walking, but I had no idea they are sometimes being chased by glowworm larvae!

P.S.  If you're intrigued (and brave enough!), you can read more and see photos of these glowworms — glowing, attacking, feeding, mating, egg-laying, and more — in this paper:  Tiemann, D. L.  1967.  Observations on the natural history of the Western Banded Glowworm Zarhipis integripennis (Le Conte) (Coleoptera: Phengodidae).  Proceedings of the California Academy of Sciences XXXV: 235-264.

Out and about

A few weeks ago, I decided to try photographing some bryozoans in the field.  It worked pretty well, and the images were interesting enough that I'll likely try again. 

Bryozoans are colonial — it's possible you've noticed them growing as low rough patches on intertidal rocks or seaweeds.  But the animals making up the colony are pretty small, and are not easy to see with the naked eye (it's much easier to appreciate them under a microscope!).  

However, I tried using the "microscope mode" on my little waterproof camera in a shallow tidepool and you could see lots of feeding bryozoans with their bell-like tentacles extended into the water.
Here's an example of Derby Hat Bryozoan (Eurystomella bilabiata) from the field:

 

I've shown some microscope images of this species before, so if you'd like to compare (or to review introductory information about bryozoans), check out these earlier posts: "Pretty in pink" from 15 February 2012 and "Pretty in pink #2" from 1 July 2013.

Opening up

 

Some flowers for you!  Red-flowering Currant (Ribes sanguineum var. glutinosum), one of our earliest flowering shrubs. Photographed in the Bodega Dunes on 11 February 2020.

Bearing brightness

 

I went for a short walk in the Bodega Dunes today (11 February 2020) and spent a few minutes watching an Allen's Hummingbird (Selasphorus sasin). 

 

Here are a few different images, including a couple of shots with some willow buds and flowers for scale:

 

 

 

 

 

Signs of spring in Bodega Bay! 

P.S.  I was curious about the Latin name, and learned that both the genus and species names are interesting.  "Selasphorus" means "bearing brightness."  According to the Birds of North America, "sasin" means "hummingbird" in Nuu-chah-nulth, the language of First Nations peoples around Nootka Sound.

Sunset dinner

 

Sunset over Bodega Harbor, with Brant (Branta bernicla), various ducks, probably some American Coots (Fulica americana), and a Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) feeding among the Eelgrass (Zostera marina).

Amber eyes

 

The amber eyes of a sculpin, photographed in a tidepool on 6 February 2020.

 

Vibrant

 

Close-up of a vibrant green Sunburst Sea Anemone (Anthopleura sola), 7 February 2020.

 

Best-laid plans

This afternoon I was checking on a few things along the rocky shore when from a distance I noticed something that looked like a bright yellow pine cone.  I realized that wasn't what it was, but I couldn't identify it until I got closer:

 

This is a cluster of Leafy Hornmouth (Ceratostoma foliatum) egg capsules.  There are two large grayish snails below the yellow capsules — those are the Leafy Hornmouths.   Although we have found their egg capsules occasionally (see the post called "Fluted" from 11 February 2014), I don't recall seeing the snails in the process of laying eggs on Bodega Head before, so it seemed worth documenting.

P.S.  The smaller yellowish snail is a different species, Paciocinebrina lurida (formerly Ocinebrina lurida).  There are other interesting invertebrates in this image, so look around!

Landing pattern

 

A flock of Sanderlings (Calidris alba) coming in for a landing (with a few Marbled Godwits in the background).  [You can click on the image for a larger version.]  Bodega Harbor, 31 January 2020.

 

Resting on a sandbar

At the end of our shorebird survey last week, I heard an interesting call note and looked across to a distant sandbar to see a small group of Forster's Terns (Sterna forsteri) roosting with some gulls (primarily Mew Gulls).  The light was nice, so I took a few photos for the record:

 

 

 

It feels like it's hardly ever this calm in Bodega Bay, but the reflections show how little wind there was at this time.  Photos take on 31 January 2020.

For 02/02/2020

Some sets of two for tomorrow's very special date — 02/02/2020.

 

Two Common Ravens (Corvus corvax)

 

Two Tolmie's Star Tulips (Calochortus tolmiei)

 

Two River Otters (Lontra canadensis) 

 

Two Red Octopus (Octopus rubescens) paralarvae 

Happy 2020 palindrome day!