The woodlouse as a "detritovore"

As an old English major, I've enjoyed accumulating a vocabulary of words ending in "vore."  Most people know carnivore, herbivore, and omnivore; my hobbies and side interests introduced me to granivore, piscivore, insectivore, and frugivore (plus tangentially-related "locavore") (and hypercarnivore).  Yesterday was my first encounter with "detritovore", which I encountered in The Guardian, where they presented the woodlouse as an entry in their annual "Invertebrate of the Year" competition.

Chucky pig. Slater. Monkey pea. Roly-poly. Boat-builder. Butchy boy. Cheeselog. Hobbling Andrew. Wood pig. If there were a prize for the range and joyfulness of a creature’s English-language names, the humble woodlouse would undoubtedly triumph over its million-plus invertebrate rivals.

Over centuries of easy cohabitation with humans, it has acquired more than 300 regional names in Britain alone, and many more in other languages (such as Gwrach y Coed, “witch of the wood”, in Welsh).

There are lovely words for woodlouse actions too: an animal rolling its body into a neat ball is known as conglobation, or volvation in zoology.

You can read more about the woodlouse at the link.  For now I'm just enjoying the new "vore" word [there are lots of others...], and now also "conglobation" and "volvation."

At 93°F, permafrost is no longer permanent

Dandelion bonsai

It was not until my adult retirement years that I began to understand that dandelions are perennials.  I have harvested some really deep-rooted ones in the loose soil of a backyard tomato patch (I even pondered entering one such plant into a state fair ag competition).  And it was not until yesterday that I discovered that they can be used for bonsai-type art.

I found enough other material online to be reassured that the image above isn't pure AI.  Whether it is true "bonsai" can be argued; you can read about such viewpoints at Reddit and via the Google AI.

Nudibranch and feather grass

Posted for the beauty of the images. 

Trichromacy vs. dichromacy

Not sure I trust the image, but the principle appears to be valid.

Until the 1960s, popular belief held that most mammals outside of primates were monochromats. In the last half-century, however, a focus on behavioral and genetic testing of mammals has accumulated extensive evidence of dichromatic color vision in a number of mammalian orders. Mammals are now usually assumed to be dichromats (possessing S- and L-cones), with monochromats viewed as the exceptions.

The common vertebrate ancestor, extant during the Cambrian, was tetrachromatic, possessing 4 distinct opsins classes. Early mammalian evolution would see the loss of two of these four opsins, due to the nocturnal bottleneck, as dichromacy may improve an animal's ability to distinguish colors in dim light. Placental mammals are therefore – as a rule – dichromatic.

The exceptions to this rule of dichromatic vision in placental mammals are old world monkeys and apes, which re-evolved trichromacy, and marine mammals (both pinnipeds and cetaceans) which are cone monochromats. New World Monkeys are a partial exception: in most species, males are dichromats, and about 60% of females are trichromats, but the owl monkeys are cone monochromats, and both sexes of howler monkeys are trichromats.

Trichromacy has been retained or re-evolved in marsupials, where trichromatic vision is widespread. Recent genetic and behavioral evidence suggests the South American marsupial Didelphis albiventris is dichromatic, with only two classes of cone opsins having been found within the genus Didelphis.

Excerpt from the dichromacy entry of Wikipedia (see also trichromacy).  I didn't realize this.  You learn something every day.

The Al Naslaa rock in Saudi Arabia

Image cropped for size from the original posted at Live Science, where you can read about the controversies about the formation of the gap.  See also Geology Science, which offers this image:

Personally I don't believe this formed as a result of a natural fault or joint.  The rock itself is sandstone, so I would bet that humans created the gap using rope with perhaps added abrasives, perhaps just as a whimsy.

Fiber-optic materials in Ukrainian birds' nests

Yana Hrynko, senior researcher of The National Museum of the History of Ukraine in the Second World War, shows bird’s nests made partially with fragments of fiber-optic lines that were found by a Ukrainian serviceman on the front line and then passed to the museum, in Kyiv, Ukraine, on June 23, 2026. Both Ukrainian and Russian troops use drones controlled via long lines of optic fiber to bypass electronic warfare jamming, leaving miles of ultra-thin lines tangled in trees and scattered across the land in Ukraine’s frontline regions.  (Valentyn Ogirenko / Reuters)

One of the Photos of the Week in The Atlantic.

Here's the video from Reuters on this topic - with a tip of the blogging cap to an unidentified reader.

Chipmunks

I first noticed the rodent activity last week (image above) at the place where the driveway meets the garage, so I replaced the gravel in the burrow and made a mental note to do something about it, but by yesterday (below) the process was obviously in an accelerated phase.

The quickest response would be to push all the dirt and gravel back down and then seal the top with an expanding foam, but I was reluctant to possibly convert the burrow into a live burial, so instead I got out our smallest Havahart trap, baited it with a piece of chicken teriyaki, and waited.  Within a couple hours the malefactor was in the trap, and I drove him/her to a new homesite near fields and prairie about a mile away.

Then I reset the trap, not sure if this was one guy or possibly two.  I captured a second one before evening and drove it over to where the first was released.  Then I realized that I don't know that the ones I trapped are a mated pair and the occupants of the hole or just wandering neighborhood residents, so I decided to look up some info on their ecology and when they have their litters.  Found this nice infographic -

That was new information for me.  I did not realize that common chipmunks would create multiple entrances to their hidey-holes.  Now I'm thinking that the risk of sealing a chipmunk family into a live burial horrorshow is unlikely, and that I can just go ahead with the cleanup and closure.

But one advantage of having a blog full of well-read and diversely-experienced readers is that sometimes I can call for help.  So I'd appreciate advice from others with backgrounds in rodentology, mammalogy, pest control, or house maintenance.

Before leaving, I'll insert several tidbits from the Wikipedia entry:

The common name originally may have been spelled "chitmunk", from the native Odawa (Ottawa) word jidmoonh, meaning "red squirrel" (cf. Ojibwe ajidamoo). The earliest form cited in the Oxford English Dictionary is "chipmonk", from 1842. Other early forms include "chipmuck" and "chipminck", and in the 1830s they were also referred to as "chip squirrels", probably in reference to the sound they make. In the mid-19th century, John James Audubon and his sons included a lithograph of the chipmunk in their Viviparous Quadrupeds of North America, calling it the "chipping squirrel [or] hackee". Chipmunks have also been referred to as ground squirrels, (although the name "ground squirrel" may refer to other squirrels, such as those of the genus Spermophilus).

Eastern chipmunks, the largest of the chipmunks, mate in early spring and again in early summer, producing litters of four or five young twice each year... Chipmunks construct extensive burrows which can be more than 3.5 m (11 ft) in length with several well-concealed entrances. The burrows are complex and include plugged entryways, nseparate compartments for nesting, multiple food chambers, side pockets and escape routes. The sleeping quarters are kept clear of shells, and feces are stored in refuse tunnels.

Why mosquito eggs float

This hand-coloured scanning electron micrograph was the favourite of the jury in the section "Best Scientific Image". The image shows the surface of a mosquito egg (from Culex pipiens), which generates a water repellent network by connecting microscopically small structures to trap a thin layer of air. The vitally important structures avoid immersion and enable the egg to float and aggregate with neighbouring eggs.

The website of photographer Martin Oeggerli.  Reposted from 2013 because I had my first encounter with mosquitoes this week in the woods behind our house.

Studying whiskers on an elephant's trunk

This is the sentence that piqued my curiosity:

"Haptic researchers discovered a difference of two orders of magnitude in the elasticity of the thousand whiskers of an Asian elephant's trunk as they progress from the base to the tip."

The sentence was one of the "Findings" listed in the May 2026 issue of Harper's Magazine (this recurring feature is a wonderfully eclectic potpourri of scientific observations).  The source was not provided, but a brief search led me to the arXiv of Cornell University and to the source text: "Functionally graded keratin facilitates tactile sensing in elephant whiskers."  The research was conducted at the Max Planck Institute in Stuttgart.  Here is the abstract:

Keratin composites enable animals to hike with hooves, fly with feathers, and sense with skin. These distinct functions arise from variations in the underlying properties and microscale arrangement of this natural polymer. One well-studied example is mammalian whiskers, elongated keratin rods attached to tactile skin structures that extend the animal’s sensory volume. Here, we investigate the non-actuated whiskers that cover Asian elephant (Elephas maximus) trunks and find they are geometrically and mechanically tailored to facilitate tactile perception by encoding contact location in vibrotactile signal amplitude and frequency. Elephant whiskers emerge from armored trunk skin and shift from a thick, circular, porous, stiff root to a thin, ovular, dense, soft point. This smooth transition enables interaction with widely varying substrates, reduces wear, and increases the vibrotactile signal information generated during contact. The functionally graded geometry, porosity, and stiffness of elephant whiskers tune the neuromechanics of trunk touch, facilitating highly dexterous manipulation.

The non-scientist reader will want to skip down to the Conclusions to get a sense of the "why":

Biological functionally graded material composites like elephant whiskers can inspire engineered devices that use functional gradients to achieve specific capabilities ranging from fatigue reduction to signal power increases. One of the first animal stiffness gradients discovered was the beak of the Humboldt squid, but mimicry of this stiffness gradient in soft materials posed a considerable manufacturing challenge at the time of this discovery. Recent advances in multi-material 3D printing enable unprecedented control over the deposition of materials with widely varying mechanical properties; cutting-edge inkjet systems create monolithic parts from materials with elastic moduli that span three orders of magnitude. Recent characterization of composites built from these materials enables inverse design, whereby one achieves desired system properties such as stiffness, toughness, and frequency response by prescribing both geometry and constituent materials at the microscale. Fields ranging from material science and neuroscience to haptics and bio-inspired robotics rely on signal processing through material interfaces, and functional gradients have significant potential to enable programmable signal shifts tuned to specific use cases.

Back in the 1970s when I began my postgraduate science research, United States Senator William Proxmire (a Democrat!) was ridiculing bench researchers for publishing what he considered to be trivial scientific findings.  He created a "Golden Fleece Award" to demean such research.  Some of the research mocked at that time was probably truly trivial and wasteful of public resources, but the luddite attitude was unfortunate, and the humor involved may have carried over to influence public opinion of science.  In those years I was studying the effect of serum complement and Protein A on the clearance of staphylococci and gram-negative bacteria from BALB/c mouse lungs; fortunately I was well below his radar.

I'm posting this now to make note of the "why" of studying elephant trunk whiskers.  Mother Nature has been doing hard science for millennia, and finding out how she achieved results can guide humans in an endless variety of quests.

Creating ponds for wildlife

I don't have access to saltwater tidepools, so in my world the most fascinating microenvironment is that of a freshwater pond.  I was therefore delighted to read an article about a fellow who is turning his earthmoving skills into creating ponds de novo on the English countryside.

Britain has lost at least 400,000 ponds over the past century, according to the Freshwater Habitats Trust. A similar number remain but many are overgrown, degraded or affected by nutrient pollution.

“Everyone realises we’re in a sorry state with freshwater and it needs to be addressed,” says Hancox, of Creative Wetlands, a contractor who has dug scores of new ponds for charities and rewilding projects across Britain.

Hancox acquired his skills – the excavator “becomes an extension of yourself, it just flows,” he says – digging landfill sites and golf courses for his family’s groundworks company. “My original job was a shaper on golf courses. We travelled all over, to Portugal, Germany, Belgium, building bunkers and drainage – everything really that wasn’t good for wildlife. I’ve always had a massive interest in wildlife, so we’ve got to the stage now where we want to put something back.”

At Heal Somerset, a 185-hectare (460 acre) former dairy farm being turned over to nature by the charity Heal Rewilding, Hancox is digging four new ponds, including one double-bowled pond 30 metres in diameter.

The ponds are specifically for great-crested newts, which have been found in low numbers on the farm but have no suitable ponds in which to breed. Usually within a year of being created the ponds fill with aquatic life, including damselflies and dragonflies, and provide food and shelter for birds, from moorhens to house martins, who feed on the insects and use the pond-side mud to build nests...

Crucially, these new ponds are not connected to any river system, which can wash nutrient-rich or polluted water into them. Instead, they are charged by clean rainwater or clean groundwater, enabling more delicate aquatic plants to thrive.

Kudos to this fellow for shifting from creating golf courses to creating wildlife ponds.  And kudos to the farm family that has hired him to do the work.  Reminds me of the people who install wildlife guzzlers in the desert.

Blue flags (Iris versicolor)

They look beautiful even in a stagnant drainage ditch.

Odd structure found "in the middle of nowhere"

I was delighted to discover what it is and was impressed to note how well-designed and constructed it is.  Read all about it at the whatisthisthing subreddit.

Very interesting pattern on this rock

Found in a creekbed in Montana and posted in the whatsthisrock subreddit, where there is a detailed explanation of how such a complex pattern could evolve.

Posted for the delightful image, which as an old rockhound I find fascinating.  The explanation about how cracks can form in quartz because of differential strain between hard quartz and soft(er) surroundings is well over my head, and I will never remember that this is "the very first phase of boudinage," but it is a cool image and belongs in the blog.

Addendum:  A tip of the blogging cap to a reader who provided two excellent link in their comment: a detailed explanation of the process of boudinage, and a relevant video on the topic.  Both are well done academic presentations.

Backyard woodland garden in springtime

About 25 years ago when we arrived in Wisconsin, this wooded area behind the house was wall-to-wall buckthorn and honeysuckle.  I spent two summers grubbing those out, and within a year or two the native plants began to appear, presumably from dormant seeds that were being shaded out and starved of water by the invasives.  Jack-in-the-pulpits began popping up, along with native violets and other spring ephemerals.  I added some cinnamon fern, which loved the thick leaf litter.

We planted a few white trillium, which went on to form clusters and then metastasized to distant parts of the woods.

Red trillium are doing the same, and also the yellow trillium (here popping up in a bed of Lilies of the Valley).

For dramatic color in a woodland setting, nothing beats bleeding hearts (Dicentra), but TBH I have never seen the native bees or the bumblebees visiting these introduced flowers. The bluebells next to them get visited, but AFAIK not the bleeding hearts.

The champion of the woodland garden in the opinion of the pollinators is the vinca, which has spread as a groundcover to such an extent that I need to restrain it by pulling it out at the perimeters I want.

One other favorite of the bees is the wild ginger, which multiplies and spreads readily.  The blossoms are net to the ground and not visible to casual human visitors unless you pull back the overlying leaves.  But the bumblebees find them - and perhaps other insects as well.

For beautiful foliage, my overall favorite is the pulmonaria - so named because the leaves were once thought to resemble diseased lungs (and that is not a bad analogy, to be honest).  The flowers (not captured in this photo) are small and delicate and are visited by bees, but I like the plant for the foliage, which dramatically adds patterns to the woodland floor.

Calamint for your pollinator garden

Several years ago while visiting Olbrich Botanical Gardens here in Madison, we saw several unfamiliar mid-sized plants that were hosting a virtual cloud of small native bees.  The name tags read "Calamint" (Clinopodium = Greek "bed" + "little foot).  We found a baby one in a 4-inch pot at a local garden store.

The photo above is from this week after cleaning the winter debris in a front yard south-facing garden.  The calamint has grown to the size of a basketball.  It has a nice conformation, with dense tight foliage that has been spared the depredations of local rabbits.  The photo below shows the same plant in the autumn of 2024 when it would have been a quarter of its current size, and in full bloom...

It is my understanding that bees and other pollinating insects do not share with humans an interest in large showy flowers.  The double ("peony") tulips by the mailbox draw more views from local people walking by than they do from bees.  Bees and beetles love the garden plants with thousands of minute flowers (the goldenrod is an autumnal favorite alive with insects in September).  I'll try to remember to get a followup photo of this calamint this fall, especially if I can figure out how to embed a small phone video of the bees.

Rat kings, squirrel kings - and their relation to a Christmas tradition

"Rat kings are cryptozoological phenomena said to arise when a number of rats become intertwined at their tails, which become stuck together with blood, dirt, and excrement. The animals consequently grow together while joined at the tails, which are often broken. The phenomenon is particularly associated with Germany, where the majority of instances have been reported...

Most researchers presume the creatures are legendary and that all supposed physical evidence is hoaxed, such as mummified groups of dead rats with their tails tied together. Reports of living specimens remain unsubstantiated…

Specimens of purported rat kings are kept in some museums. The museum Mauritianum in Altenburg (Thuringia) shows the largest well-known mummified "rat king", which was found in 1828 in a miller's fireplace at Buchheim [above]. It consists of 32 rats. Alcohol-preserved rat kings are shown in museums in Hamburg, Hamelin, Göttingen, and Stuttgart. A rat king found in 1930 in New Zealand, displayed in the Otago Museum in Dunedin, was composed of immature Rattus rattus whose tails were entangled by horse hair.

The term rat king has often led to the misconception of a king of rats... The Nutcracker, by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, adapts a tale by E. T. A. Hoffmann that features a seven-headed Mouse King as the villain..."

Image and text from Wikipedia. Credit to Neatorama.

Addendum #1:  Reposted to add this example of a "squirrel king" -

The Animal Clinic of Regina in Saskatchewan, Canada, got a surprise this week when a city worker brought in six squirrels fused together by their tails...

This particular group of six were nesting near a pine tree and sap fused their tails together. A city of Regina worker found the young squirrels and brought them to the clinic. The animals were sedated and the veterinarian team worked to untangle the mess of tails. Their tails were then shaved of the matted fur and they were given antibiotics to prevent infection.  (Via Nothing to do with Arbroath)

Addendum #2:  Reposted in order to add this related interesting phenomenon found by my wife at the Buck Manager website:

[T]hese three white-tailed bucks were found locked during the rut. The bucks were located on a ranch in east-central Texas and, from the information that I received, one of the bucks was still alive when the trio was found. Apparently, the antlers were cut from the dead deer and one very tired buck was lucky enough to run back off into the woods.

There are lots of comments at the site, some opining that the event was faked and arguing the method of death, and one who reported seeing a buck attack a pair that was already locked.   My wife found another example at the same website:

 "...there is nothing worse than finding a dead buck that you did not shoot, but how would you feel if you found not one, but three dead bucks on your property? Okay, it gets worse. What if those three bucks totaled 450 inches of antler? That is exactly what a hunter in the mid-West found on his Ohio farm..."

"They had the bank of this creek all tore up."

Addendum #3: And reader Lisa knew of a ancient example of the phenomenon involving Ice Age mammoths.

Addendum #4:  Reposted from 2013 to add this image found by an anonymous reader -

- of a squirrel king in Nebraska, with the victims, as in the example cited above, fused at their tails by pine tree sap.

Addendum #5:  Reposted yet again to add this "squirrel king" found locally here in central Wisconsin:

Their tails had become entwined with "long-stemmed grasses and strips of plastic their mother used as nest material," the Wildlife Rehabilitation Center wrote on Facebook... "It was impossible to tell whose tail was whose, and we were increasingly concerned because all of them had suffered from varying degrees of tissue damage to their tails caused by circulatory impairment," the post read.

See also: A squirrel king, which has this explanatory note -

In the wild, squirrels make their nests of dried leaves and branches...  A strange natural accident that sometimes occurs is sap from pine branches that the nest is constructed of can adhere to the squirrels' tails and ultimately to each other's tails. Squirrels normally have litters of 4 to 6 babies. As they are fed in the nest, they are quite "squirmy" and move around frequently. Once their tails become stuck together, movement is limited amongst them and they jump under and over each other trying to reposition themselves. In the process, they literally knot or braid themselves together. The squirrels pull in many directions, thereby worsening the situation. They can actually live quite a long time like this, as the mother continues to feed them.

Reposted yet again, to add some information from a Longread article "All Hail the Rat King" -

The Thuringian town of Altenburg houses perhaps the most spectacular exemplar. A mad bramble of no fewer than 32 rats sits mounted on a plexiglass pane in the entrance hall of the Mauritianum, the town’s small natural history museum. It was found in a village not too far away, in a warm space underneath a chimney...

The first visual representation of a rat king is in Johannes Sambucus’s Emblemata, from 1564, a collection of moral truths “wrapped up in certain figures.” Sambucus introduced the rat king as both natural phenomenon and symbol, and a sense that its sheer bizarreness has something to tell us has never gone away...

Some have considered the joke to be literal: as old as the discovery of rat kings is the suspicion that they cannot possibly be real. “We present it as a natural phenomenon,” says one of the curators in Strasbourg. “If someone made it a sport to tie rat tails together, it would be a major effort, unless you have steel mesh gloves.” The rat king is just as inexplicable when you think it’s a fake as it is when you assume it’s authentic...

One element that stays mysteriously stable across the centuries is rat kings’ geographic spread: the history of the rat king is uncannily, at times uncomfortably entwined with the history of Germany. Rattus rattus exists across the globe: it spread across Europe and North Africa with the Romans, then across the rest of the globe with European colonizers. And yet rat kings come from a curiously limited area. All but one of the specimens preserved today are from Western and Central Europe. Marten t’ Hart notes that “from 1564 to 1963, fifty-seven rat kings were discovered and described.” The vast majority of those discoveries took place in areas that make up present-day Germany.  This curious geographic concentration has led some researchers to suggest that rat kings are cultural, rather than natural phenomena. More bluntly put, they could be elaborate, centuries-old hoaxes...

In 1816, two years before Arndt published “Rat King Birlibi,” E.T.A. Hoffmann wrote Nutcracker and Mouseking, which inspired (via Alexandre Dumas père) Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s inescapable ballet.

If you watch The Nutcracker today, the mouse king has gone missing several times over. He has disappeared from the title, only shows up in one of the acts as the leader of an evil army of mice, and goes through a busy and less-than-iconic mass scene before exiting the stage as Masha explores the Land of Sweets with her nutcracker-cum-prince. But Hoffmann’s rendition not only lavishes a great deal of attention on the army of mice and their vicious battle with the nutcracker’s tin soldiers, but also makes it clear that the mouse king is a close relative of the rat king. This is how we first meet the monarch:

Seven mouse heads with seven shiny crowns rose, hissing and whistling dreadfully, rose out of the ground. Soon after the mouse body to which these seven heads were attached emerged fully, and three times the entire army squeaked in triumph at the great mouse garlanded with seven diadems…

So, just in time for Christmas - a new way to interpret the "Nutcracker." My next step was to search Google Images for Rat Kings in the Nutcracker.  Most of them are benign and cuddly.  At NPR I found Maurice Sendak's version -

- which has a certain menace to it, but this one at Deviant Art was the best:

Your choice how much of this to share with your impressionable children before taking the family to a Nutcracker performance at your local school or concert hall.

Merry Christmas to all !!

Reposted from 2019 to add this image of "rat king dumplings" -

- which you can read about in John Farrier's post at Neatorama.

Public service announcement

Viewers at Neatorama are advised by Miss Cellania that this brief video is a public service announcement, so I was alert to the possibility, but didn't figure out the message until the 3:40 mark.  I'm reposting it not so much for the message as for the artwork, which I find very appealing - especially the styling of the willow tree by the pond.

New word for the day: neuston (or pleuston)

Fascinating video, and IMHO worth the time expenditure to watch.  As a child I was fascinated by the water striders and whirligigs in northern Minnesota lakes.  These "ripple bugs" are similar inhabitants of fast-flowing streams.  The role of hydrophobic legs has been documented long ago, but the details here re the fans and their deployment is awesome.

Now for the words and their etymology:

Neuston, also called pleuston, are organisms that live at the surface of a body of water, such as an ocean, estuary, lake, river, wetland or pond. Neuston can live on top of the water surface or submersed just below the water surface. In addition, microorganisms can exist in the surface microlayer that forms between the top- and the under-side of the water surface.

Neustons can be informally separated into two groups: the phytoneuston, which are autotrophs floating at the water surface including cyanobacteria, filamentous algae and free-floating aquatic plant (e.g. mosquito fern, duckweed and water lettuce); and the zooneuston, which are floating heterotrophs such as protists (e.g. ciliates) and metazoans (aquatic animals).

The word "neuston" comes from Greek neustos, meaning "swimming", and the noun suffix -on (as in "plankton"). This term first appears in the biological literature in 1917. The alternative term pleuston comes from the Greek plein, meaning "to sail or float". The first known use of this word was in 1909, before the first known use of neuston. In the past various authors have attempted distinctions between neuston and pleuston, but these distinctions have not been widely adopted. As of 2021, the two terms are usually used somewhat interchangeably, and neuston is used more often than pleuston.

Also interesting to note that "neuston" is both countable and uncountable, depending on usage.

Manes

This image of Icelandic horses at play in Germany was one of the Photos of the Week at The Atlantic.  It got me wondering whether horses' manes provided evolutionary advantages that might have led to selection pressures affecting their size.  I'm not a "horse person," so there is a fuckton of stuff I didn't know, nicely summarized at the relevant Wikipedia page.