Currently in flower

  

Red-flowering Currant (Ribes sanguineum var. glutinosum) photographed on 11 February 2023.

P.S.  Other Ribes species are sometimes called gooseberries. There's a fun resemblance between their fruit and the "sea gooseberry" (a ctenophore, or comb jelly).  See for yourself in one of my earliest NHBH posts back in 2012 -- "A two gooseberry day".

Early summer

  

Early summer view with the yellow-flowering shrub called Lizard Tail or Seaside Woolly Sunflower (Eriophyllum staechadifolium), 30 June 2022

February flowers

  

Silver Bush Lupine (Lupinus chamissonis), 28 February 2022

Springtime

 

 

A springtime scene for you!  Blufftop Lupine (Lupinus variicolor) and Silver Bee (Habropoda miserabilis).

Have you been eating willow flowers?

 

Who me?

Golden-crowned Sparrow (Zonotrichia atricapilla), 4 March 2020

 

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.

Western beauty

 

Western Azalea (Rhododendron occidentale) photographed at The Cedars on 11 May 2019.

To learn more about this beautiful flowering shrub, see "Western Azalea: Beauty and Fragrance" by Roger Raiche at the Pacific Horticulture Society's website.

Stellate

I haven't shown a mystery close-up in a while.  Can you guess what this is?  (The answer is revealed below.)

 

Michelle noticed these stellate (star-like) hairs.

Here's a zoomed out view which will help identify the type of organism this is:

 

The dense stellate hairs make this flowering shrub look fuzzy.  The first photo was a close-up of the surface of a flower petal.  Below you can also see the stellate hairs on the leaves and stems. (Note that these hairs can be irritating to human skin and eyes.)

 

And here's an open flower:

 

Meet California Flannelbush (Fremontodendron californicum)!  It's a native evergreen shrub that tends to grow in sandy washes near seasonal creeks or on well-drained slopes.  I'm not that familiar with this species, but it appears to be uncommon in Sonoma County.  Photographed in The Cedars on 11 May 2019.

 

Springtime in the willows

 

Bewick's Wren (Thryomanes bewickii) in the willows (Salix sp.), Bodega Dunes, 2 March 2019.

I liked the view from farther away, too: 

 

Flower party

 

A couple of days ago, we stopped very briefly to look at some beautiful Pacific Rhododendron (Rhododendron macrophyllum) flowers at the Kruse Rhododendron State Natural Reserve.

When I was reviewing the photos, I was intrigued by the anthers (the male parts that produce pollen).  Up close, it looks like each anther has little "googly eyes."  It made me laugh because I imagined there was a little party going on, with everyone gathered at the center of the flower (not such a bad place for a party!).  Check it out:

 

Fall beauty

 

Common Buckeye (Junonia coenia), photographed in the Bodega Dunes on 7 November 2017

This butterfly was alternating between basking in the sun and nectaring from male Coyote Brush (Baccharis pilularis) flowers:

 

 

On the nature of pappus

I need to correct a mistake in last night's post.  I called the Coyote Brush flowers male, but I've realized now that the flowers in last night's photo are female (and I've corrected that post).

I'm not a botanist, so I hope you will forgive my mistake...and perhaps you can learn with me.  Here's what happened.  I had remembered that in Coyote Brush, male and female flowers occur on separate plants.  But when I took the picture that I showed last night, I couldn't remember how to tell the different types of flowers apart.  So I looked around for clues and found this:

 

I said, "Okay, I can see that the shorter yellowish flowers are producing pappus."  Pappus is the white fluffy material that (often) carries seeds.  [When you blow seeds off a dandelion, you're blowing on the pappus (with a seed at the bottom) which then floats away.]  

Until now, I have associated pappus with seeds, which are produced by female flowers, so I thought these shorter yellowish flowers were female.  And I reasoned that therefore the longer whitish flowers (in last night's photo) were male.

Then today I noticed a lot of insect activity around some Coyote Brush plants — e.g., here's a nice fly (and an ant), feeding on white flowers.

 

When I looked closely, I realized that there was pappus associated with the white flowers (see below for an example):

 

So now I realized I had a problem.  A few days ago I had noticed pappus on yellow flowers, and today I observed pappus on white flowers.  So...which flowers are male and which are female?

I had to do some more research, and discovered that the white flowers are female and the yellow flowers are male.  They *both* produce pappus, but note that the pappus is longer in the females and shorter in the males.

I hadn't realized that some male flowers produce pappus, but now I know, and you do, too! 

Since pappus is associated with seeds and can play a role in seed dispersal, it raises the question of why male flowers also produce pappus?  I don't know the answer, but let me know if you've heard of an explanation (or can think of one!).

Here are two more pictures: a closeup of male Coyote Brush flowers, and a handsome striped fly on a male flower:

 

 

What's for dinner?

 

This afternoon, I was watching this Northern Flicker (Colaptes auratus) eat fruit from a shrub at Crane Creek Regional Park in Santa Rosa.

I was intrigued because I couldn't remember if I had seen flickers feeding on fruit before.  They're primarily ant-eaters. 

Can you tell what type of fruit this flicker was feeding on?

Warning: The next picture will give away the answer.

Okay, here we go.  He was feeding on...

 

Poison Oak (Toxicodendron diversilobum)!  Perhaps I shouldn't have been surprised.  But if you react to Poison Oak like I do, then you wonder how anything can get that close to it, never mind eat it!

Predictability

While my family is enjoying record-breaking snow in New England (can you tell that I'm jealous?), and predictions in Boston are for a wind chill of 25 below zero tomorrow, air temperatures reached 62-64°F in Bodega Bay today.

I had 45 minutes in the afternoon for a short walk.  The conditions seemed perfect for butterflies — sunny and warm, with only a slight breeze.  I thought I had a chance at finding an elfin, so I decided to check the Bodega Dunes.

 

Score!  One Western Pine Elfin!  I found them in March last year, but I think this is my first February sighting.  I know these pictures are horrible, but they're the only ones I got before the elfin flew off and disappeared...and I'm excited about sharing this experience with you.  For me, this is a very fun aspect of natural history — having a hunch about something, going out to see if you can find it, and then being successful in your search (or even just having fun trying!).

This is a blurry picture from 14 February 2015 (below)...but you can still tell it's a pine elfin (really!).  After the image I'll share a link to a better photo taken in 2013.

 

Western Pine Elfin in the Bodega Dunes, 24 March 2013.

I wondered what a pine elfin might use as a nectar source at this time of year.

Red-flowering Currant?

 

Willow?  (This one was being visited by a Painted Lady.)

 

I also took a quick look around for other butterflies and spotted quite a few Monarchs and a couple of Red Admirals:

 

 

Given the opportunity, I would have traded butterflies for snow today.  But since it wasn't an option, being able to predict that today could be an elfin day was also a fun game!

Not ribbon candy!

 

This is a little out of order, but I didn't have a chance to share this picture last week.  Do you recognize this shrub?  

I wish we had manzanita growing on Bodega Head.  This picture was taken in Yosemite.  

The red and copper-colored bark is so appealing [a-peel-ing? ;) ]!  Not having spent a lot of time studying California shrubs, it's easy to start asking questions about manzanita bark.  Why is it so red?  Why does it peel?  Why is it so smooth underneath?  I wondered if there would be something protective about these features.  

Sure enough, when I looked for a quick answer on the Internet, I found a Bay Nature article entitled, Why is manzanita bark so smooth and red?  It's worth reading, but the basic idea is that the peeling bark may help prevent things from growing on the trunk/stems...and the red color is an indicator of tannins, chemicals which taste bitter and thereby reduce herbivory.

It's the total opposite of ribbon candy, which is what these beautiful shimmery peels reminded me of when I first saw them.  Perhaps that dates me somewhat, as ribbon candy doesn't seem to be as common anymore.  It used to be shared during holiday events when I was young.