Featured Creature: Seahorse

What animal swims upright and is one of the few where males carry the pregnancy?

The seahorse (Hippocampus)!

West Australian Seahorse, Hippocampus subelongatus
Image Credit: J. Martin Crossley via iNaturalist

Introducing Our Spiny Friends

In celebration of my niece’s first birthday, my family and I visited the The New England Aquarium in Boston. As I watched her stare in awe through the glass, taking in all the colors and shapes of various plants and animals, I couldn’t help but tap into my own wonder. Together we brushed the smooth backs of Cownose rays, took in the loud calls of the African penguins, and spent quite a bit of time trying to find the seahorses in their habitats. Eventually we did find them, at the bottom, with their tails curled around bits of seagrass. Now, I already knew a couple details about seahorses: that they were named that way because of their equine appearance, and that they swam vertically. But, crouching there next to my niece, who was looking at them in such curiosity (and confusion), I began to feel…the same way. Why do they curl their tails around plants? Are they tired? How exactly do they eat if they don’t swim around? So when I got home that day I did what any curious person in the 21st century would do, I took to the internet and started learning more about them.

The Small Horses of the Sea

With a long-snouted head and a flexible, well-defined neck reminiscent of that of a horse, the seahorse is aptly named. Its scientific name, Hippocampus, comes from Ancient Greek: hippos, meaning “horse,” and kampos, meaning “sea monster.” In fact, the hippocampus in our brains is named that way because its shape resembles the seahorse.

These creatures can be as small as the nail on your thumb or up to more than a foot long. Out of all 46 species, the smallest seahorse in the world is Satomi’s pygmy seahorse, Hippocampus satomiae. Found in Southeast Asia, it grows to be just over half an inch long. The world’s largest is the Big-belly seahorse, Hippocampus abdominalis, which can reach 35 centimeters long (more than a foot), and is found in the waters off South Australia and New Zealand.

Big-belly Seahorse, H. abdominalis 
(Image Credit: Paul Sorensen via iNaturalist (CC-BY-NC))

Instead of scales like other fish, seahorses have skin stretched over an exoskeleton of bony plates, arranged in rings throughout their bodies. Each species has a crown-like structure on top of its head called a coronet, which acts like a unique identifier, similar to how humans can be distinguished from each other by their fingerprints.

A well-known characteristic of seahorses is that they swim upright. Since they don’t have a caudal (tail) fin, they are particularly poor swimmers, only able to propel themselves with the dorsal fin on their back, and steer with the pectoral fins on either side of their head behind their eyes. Would you have guessed that the slowest moving fish in the world is a seahorse? The dwarf seahorse, Hippocampus zosterae, which grows to an average of 2 to 2.5 centimeters (0.8-1 in.) has a top speed of about 1.5 meters (5 ft.) per hour. Due to their poor swimming capability, seahorses are more likely to be found resting with their tails wound around something stationary like coral, or linking themselves to floating vegetation or (sadly) marine debris to travel long distances. Seahorses are the only type of fish that have these prehensile tails, ones that can grasp or wrap around things. 

Dwarf seahorses in their tank at The New England Aquarium (Photo by author)

How Do Seahorses Eat? By Suction!

Most seahorse species live in the shallow, temperate and tropical waters of seaweed or seagrass beds, mangroves, coral reefs, and estuaries around the world. They are important predators of bottom-dwelling organisms like small crustaceans, tiny fish, and copepods, and they have a particularly excellent strategy to catch and eat prey. As less-than-stellar swimmers, seahorses rely on stealth and camouflage. The shape of their heads helps them move through the water almost silently, which allows them to get really close to their prey.

Can you find the seahorse in the picture above? As one of the many creatures that have chromatophores, pigment-containing cells that allow them to change color, seahorses mimic the patterns of their surroundings and ambush tiny organisms that come within striking range. They do what’s called pivot-feeding, rotating their trumpet-like snouts at high speed and sucking in their prey. With a predatory kill rate of 90%, I’d say this strategy works. Check out this video below to watch seahorses in action!

Mr. Mom

One of the most interesting characteristics of seahorses is that they flip the script of nature: males are the ones who get pregnant and give birth instead of the females! Before mating, seahorses form pair bonds, swimming alongside each other holding tails, wheeling around in unison, and changing color. They dance with each other for several minutes daily to confirm their partner is alive and well, to reinforce their bond, and to synchronize their reproductive states. When it’s time, the seahorses drift upward snout to snout and mate in the middle of the water, where the female deposits her eggs in the male’s brood pouch.

After carrying them for anywhere between 14-45 days (depending on the species) the eggs hatch in the pouch where the salinity of water is regulated, preparing newborns for life in the sea. Once they’re fully developed (but very small) the male seahorse gives birth to an average of 100-1,000 babies, releasing them into the water to fend for themselves. While the survival rate of seahorse fry is fairly high in comparison to other fish because they’re protected during gestation, less than 0.5% of infants survive to adulthood, explaining the extremely large brood.

White’s seahorse, Hippocampus whitei
(Image Credit: David Harasti via iNaturalist (CC-BY-NC))

A Flagship Species

Alongside sea turtles, seahorses are considered a flagship species: well-known organisms that represent ecosystems, used to raise awareness and support for conservation and helping to protect the habitats they’re found in. As one of the many creatures that generate public interest and support for various conservation efforts in habitats around the world, seahorses have a significant role.

Not only do these creatures act as a symbol for marine conservation, but seahorses also provide us with a unique chance to learn more about reproductive ecology. They are important predators of small crustaceans, tiny fish, and copepods while being crucial prey for invertebrates, fish, sea turtles, seabirds, and marine mammals. 

How Are Seahorses Threatened?

Climate change and pollution are deteriorating coral reefs and seagrass beds and reducing seahorse habitats, but the biggest threat to seahorses is human activities. Overfishing and habitat destruction has reduced seahorse populations significantly. Bycatch in many areas has high cumulative effects on seahorses, with an estimated 37 million creatures being removed annually over 21 countries. Bottom trawling, fisheries, and illegal wildlife trade are all threats to seahorse populations. The removal of seahorses from their habitat alters the food web and disrupts the entire ecosystem, but seahorses are still dried and sold to tourists as street food or keepsakes, or even for pseudo-medicinal purposes in China, Japan, and Korea. They are also illegally caught for the pet trade and home aquariums (even though they fare poorly in captivity, often dying quickly). 

Supporting environmentally responsible fishers and marine protected areas is a great way to start advocating for the ocean and its creatures. Avoiding non-sustainably caught seafood and avoiding purchasing seahorses or products made from them are ways to protect them too.

Project Seahorse, a marine conservation organization, is working to control illegal, unreported, and unregulated (IUU) fishing and wildlife trade for sustainability and legality, end bottom trawling and harmful subsidies, and expand protected areas. The organization also consistently urges the implementation and fulfillment of laws and promises to advance conservation for our global ocean.

The Life We Share

All creatures on this Earth rely on us to make sure the ecosystems they call home are healthy and protected. The ocean is not just an empty expanse of featureless water, but a highly configured biome rich in plants and animals, many of them at risk. So the next time you go to the aquarium and see those little seahorses with their tails wrapped around a piece of grass, remember that we are all part of the same world. Just as these creatures rely on us, we rely on them too.

Abigail


Abigail Gipson is an environmental advocate with a bachelor’s degree in humanitarian studies from Fordham University. Working to protect the natural world and its inhabitants, Abigail is specifically interested in environmental protection, ecosystem-based adaptation, and the intersection of climate change with human rights and animal welfare. She loves autumn, reading, and gardening.


Sources and Further Reading:

Featured Creature: Kingfisher

What creature often looks blue, but isn’t, is found on every continent but Antarctica, and inspired a train’s design?

Kingfishers! (Alcedinidae)

 Patagonian Ringed Kingfisher, Megaceryle torquata ssp. stellata
(Image Credit: Amelia Ryan via iNaturalist)

Kingfishers are kind of like snowflakes. They both float and fly through the air, and no two are really alike. It’s what I love so much about them. Each kingfisher presents characteristics unique to their own lifestyle. They make me think of people. Like kingfishers, we live almost everywhere on Earth and we’ve all adapted a little differently to our diverse environments. I hope as you get to know the kingfisher, you’ll start to feel a small connection to these birds as I have.

Kingfishers are bright, colorful birds with small bodies, large heads, and long bills. They’re highly adaptable to different climates and environmental conditions, making them present in a variety of habitats worldwide. Many call wetland environments like rivers, lakes, marshes, and mangroves home. Now, their name might lead you to think all kingfishers live near these bodies of water, but more than half the world’s species are found in forests, near only calm ponds or small streams. Others live high in mountains, in open woodlands, on tropical coral atolls, or have adapted to human-modified habitats like parks, gardens, and agricultural areas.

Even so, you’re most likely to spot them in the tropical regions of Africa, Asia, and Oceania, but they can also be found in more temperate regions in Europe and the Americas. Some species have large populations and massive geographic ranges, like the Common Kingfisher (Alcedo atthis), pictured above, which resides from Ireland across Europe, North Africa and Asia, as far as the Solomon Islands in the Pacific. Other kingfishers (typically insular species that evolved on islands) have smaller ranges, like the Indigo-banded Kingfisher (Ceyx cyanopectus), which is only found in the Philippines.

Birds of a Feather

Kingfishers are small to medium sized birds averaging about 16-17 cm (a little over 6 inches) in length. They have compact bodies with short necks and legs, stubby tails and small feet, especially in comparison to their large heads and long, pointed bills. While many species are proportioned the same way, some are quite distinct. Paradise Kingfishers (Tanysiptera), which are found in the Maluku Islands and New Guinea like the one pictured below, are known for their long tail streamers. The African Dwarf Kingfisher (Ispidina lecontei) is the world’s smallest kingfisher at just 10 cm (barely 4 inches) long, and is found in Central and West Africa. The largest is the Laughing Kookaburra (Dacelo novaeguineae), coming in at a whopping 41-46 cm (15-18 inches) long, and is native to Australia.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: ‘Wait, are kookaburras and kingfishers the same thing? Sometime. Out of all 118 species, only four go by the name kookaburra: the Laughing Kookaburra (Dacelo novaeguineae), the Blue-winged Kookaburra (Dacelo leachii), the Spangled Kookaburra (Dacelo tyro), and the Rufous-bellied Kookaburra (Dacelo gaudichaud). Native to Australia and New Guinea, the kookaburra are named for their loud and distinctive call that sounds like laughter. Sometimes their cackles can even be mistaken for monkeys!

So,  are they as colorful as everyone says?

Yes! If you ask anyone who has seen a kingfisher to describe what it looks like, they will most likely go on and on about its color. Kingfishers are bright and vividly colored in green, blue, red, orange, and white feathers, and depending on the species, can be marked by a single, bold stripe of color. These features all accent the bird’s most recognizable feature, which is the blue plumage on their wings, back, and head. But here’s where things get interesting: Kingfishers don’t actually have any blue pigment in their feathers.

So, what gives? It’s something called the Tyndall effect. What’s happening is that tiny, microscopic keratin deposits on the birds’ feathers (yes, the same keratin that’s in your hair and nails) scatter light in such a way that short wavelengths of light, like (you guessed it) blue, bounce off the surface while all others are absorbed into the feather.

It sounds a little strange, but you see it every day. It’s why we see the sky as blue, too.

Azure Kingfisher, Ceyx azureus (Image Credit: David White via iNaturalist)

Are kingfishers Really Kings of Fishing?

Yes! And no. Kingfisher species are split into three subfamilies based on their feeding habits and habitats: the Tree Kingfishers (Halcyoninae), the River Kingfishers (Alcedininae), and the Water Kingfishers (Cerylinae). Despite their name, many of these birds primarily prefer insects, taking their prey from the air, the foliage, and the ground. They also eat reptiles (like skinks and snakes), amphibians, mollusks, non-insect arthropods (like crabs, spiders, scorpions, centipedes, and millipedes), and even small mammals like mice.

Tree Kingfishers reside in forests and open woodlands, hunting on the ground for small vertebrates and invertebrates. River Kingfishers are more often found eating fish and insects in forest and freshwater habitats. Water Kingfishers, the birds found near lakes, marshes, and other still bodies of water, are the fishing pros, specialize in catching and eating fish, and are actually the smallest subfamily of kingfishers, with only nine species.

Because the diets of kingfishers vary, so does the size and shape of their bills. Even though all species have long, dagger-like bills for the purpose of catching and holding prey, those of fishing species are longer and more compressed while ground feeders have shorter and broader bills that help them dig to find prey. The Shovel-billed Kookaburra (Clytoceyx rex) has the most atypical bill because it uses it to plow through the earth looking for lizards, grubs, snails, and earthworms. 

Shovel-billed Kookaburra, (Clytoceyx rex) 
(Image Credit: Mehd Halaouate via iNaturalist)

Can the blue-but-not-really-blue kingfisher get any more interesting? 

Oh yes, yes it can. Ready for another physics lesson? Kingfishers have excellent binocular vision, which means they’re able to see with both eyes simultaneously to create a single three-dimensional image, like humans. Not only that, but they can see in color too! But what makes them so adept at catching fish is their capability to compensate for the refraction of light off water.

When light travels from one material into another (in this case, air into water), that light will refract, or bend, because the densities of air and water are different. This makes objects look as though they are slightly displaced when viewed through the water surface. Kingfishers are not only able to compensate for that optical illusion while hunting, but they also can accurately judge the depth of their prey as well. 

But, triangulating underwater prey is only half the battle. Then you’ve got to catch it.

Fishing species of kingfishers dive no more than 25 cm (10 inches) into the water, anticipating the movements of their prey up until impact. Again, what happens next differs depending on which kingfisher we’re talking about. Many have translucent nictitating membranes that slide across their eyes just before impact to protect them while maintaining limited vision. Others, like the Pied Kingfisher (Ceryle rudis leucomelanurus), actually have a more robust bony plate that slides out across its eye when it hits the water—giving greater protection while sacrificing vision.

Pied Kingfisher in action

Kingfishers usually hunt from an exposed vantage point, diving rapidly into the water to snatch prey and return to their perch. If the prey is large (or still alive), kingfishers will kill it by beating it against the perch, dislodging and breaking protective spines and bones and removing legs and wings of insects. The Ruddy Kingfisher (Halcyon coromanda) native to south and southeast Asia, removes land snails from their shells by smashing them against stones on the forest floor.

Learning from kingfishers

Occupying a place fairly high in their environments’ pecking orders (trophic level) makes kingfishers susceptible to effects of bioaccumulation, or the increasing concentration of pollutants found in living things as you climb the food chain. This phenomenon, coupled with the kingfisher’s sensitivity to toxins, makes the bird a fairly reliable environmental indicator of ecosystem health. If a kingfisher population is strong, that can indicate their habitat is healthy because the small aquatic animals they feed on aren’t intaking poisons or pollutants. When problems are detected in a kingfisher population, it can serve as an early warning system that something more systemic is wrong.

But that’s not the only thing we can, or have learned, from kingfishers. In 1989, Japan was looking for a way to redesign its Shinkansen Bullet Train to make it both faster and quieter. As the train flew through tunnels at 275 km/h, massive amounts of pressure would build up, reigned in by the front of the train and the tunnels’ walls. Upon exiting the tunnels, that pressure would release, sending roaring booms through the homes of those living nearby. Engineer Eiji Nakatsu was not only the project’s lead, but birdwatcher as well. Noting the kingfisher’s ability to plunge into dense water at incredible speeds with hardly a splash, Nakatsu and his team remodeled the front of the train with the bird’s beak in mind. The result not only solved the problem of the boom, but also allowed the train to travel faster while using less energy.

Kingfishers: A Little More Like You Than You Think

In learning  about the kingfisher, I saw a little bit of us. We all come from the same family, even if we each do things a little differently.  I think for me, this gets to the root of why finding our connections with all living things matters, not just because they give us inspiration to solve human problems or because we depend on them to keep natural systems in balance, but because this is just as much their Earth as ours. 

Let’s do our part,

Abigail


Abigail Gipson is an environmental advocate with a bachelor’s degree in humanitarian studies from Fordham University. Working to protect the natural world and its inhabitants, Abigail is specifically interested in environmental protection, ecosystem-based adaptation, and the intersection of climate change with human rights and animal welfare. She loves autumn, reading, and gardening.


Sources and Further Reading:

Featured Creature: Strangler Fig

What creature grows backwards and can swallow a tree whole?

The strangler fig!

A strangler fig in Mossman Gorge, Queensland. (Image by author).

A Fig Grows in Manhattan

I recently wrapped a fig tree for the winter. Nestled in the back of a community garden, in the heart of New York City, I was one of many who flocked not for its fruit but for its barren limbs. An Italian cultivar, and therefore unfit to withstand east coast winters, this fig depends on a bundle of insulation to survive the season. The tree grows in Elizabeth Street Garden, a space that serves the community in innumerable ways, including as a source of ecological awareness.

Wrapping the fig was no small task. With frozen fingers we tied twigs together with twine, like bows on presents. Strangers held branches for one another to fasten, and together we contained the fig’s unwieldy body into clusters. Neighbors exchanged introductions and experienced volunteers advised the novice, including me. Though I’d spent countless hours in the garden, this was my first fig wrapping. My arms trembled as the tree resisted each bind. Guiding the branches together without snapping them was a delicate balance. But caring for our fig felt good and I like to think that after several springs in the sunlight it understood our efforts. Eventually, we wrapped each cluster with burlap, stuffed them with straw and tied them off again. In the end, the tree resembled a different creature entirely.

Growing Down

Two springs earlier, I was wrapped up with another fig. I was in Australia for a semester, studying at the University of Melbourne, and had traveled with friends to the northeast coast of Queensland to see the Great Barrier Reef. It was there that I fell in love with the oldest tropical rainforest in the world, the Daintree Rainforest. 

The fig I found there was monumental. Its roots spread across the forest floor like a junkyard of mangled metal beams that seemed to never end. They climbed and twisted their way around an older tree, reaching over the canopy where they encased it entirely.

The strangler fig begins its life at the top of the forest, often from a seed dropped by a bird into the notch of another tree. From there it absorbs an abundance of light inaccessible to the forest’s understory and sends its roots crawling down its support tree in search of fertile ground. Quickly then, the strangler fig grows, fueled by an unstoppable combination of sunlight, moisture, and nutrients from the soil. Sometimes, in this process, the fig consumes and strangles its support tree to death, hence its name. Other times, the fig can actually act as a brace or shield, protecting the support tree from storms and other damage. Even as they may overtake one tree, strangler figs also give new life to the forest.

As many as one million figs can come from a single tree. It is these figs that attract the animals who disperse both their seeds and the seeds of thousands of other plant species. With more than 750 species of Ficus feeding more than 1,200 distinct species of birds and mammals, the fig is a keystone resource of the tropical rainforest —the ecological community depends upon its presence and without it, the habitat’s biodiversity is at risk.

Fig-Wasp Pollination

Like the strangler fig, its pollination story is also one of sacrifice. Each fig species is uniquely pollinated by one, or in some cases a few, corresponding species of wasp. While figs are commonly thought of as fruit, they are technically capsules of many tiny flowers turned inward, also known as a syconium. This is where their pollination begins. The life of a female fig wasp essentially starts when she exits the fig from which she was born to reproduce inside of another. Each Ficus species depends upon one or two unique species of wasps, and she must find a fig of both the right species and perfect stage of development. Upon finding the perfect fig, the female wasp enters through a tiny hole at the top of the syconium, losing her wings and antennae in the process. She will not need them again, on a one way journey to lay her eggs and die. The male wasps make a similar sacrifice. The first to hatch, they are wingless, only intended to mate with the females and chew out an exit before dying. The females, loaded with eggs and pollen, emerge from the fig and continue the cycle.

The life cycle of the fig wasp.
(U.S. Forest Service, Illustration by Simon van Noort, Iziko Museum of Cape Town) 

The mutualistic relationship between the fig and its wasp is critical to its role as a keystone resource. As each wasp must reproduce additional fig species in the forest at different stages of development, there remains a constant supply of figs for the rainforest.

However, climate change threatens these wasps and their figs. Studies have shown that in higher temperatures, fig wasps live shorter lives which makes it more difficult for them to travel the long distances needed to reach the trees they pollinate. One study found that the suboptimal temperatures even shifted the competitive balance to favor non-pollinating wasps rather than the typically dominant pollinators. 

Another critical threat to figs across the globe is deforestation, in its destruction of habitat and exacerbation of climate change. In Australia, this threat looms large. Is it the only developed nation listed in a 2021 World Wildlife Fund study on deforestation hotspots, with Queensland as the epicenter of forest loss. Further, a study published earlier this year in Conservation Biology concluded that in failing to comply with environmental law, Australia has fallen short on international deforestation commitments. Fortunately, the strangler figs I fell in love with in the Daintree are protected as part of a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1988 and Indigenous Protected Area in 2013.

Stewards of the Rainforest

The Daintree Rainforest has been home to the Eastern Kuku Yalanji people for more than 50,000 years. Aboriginal Australians with a deep cultural and spiritual connection to the land, the Eastern Kuku Yalanji have been fighting to reclaim their ancestral territory since European colonization in the 18th century. Only in 2021 did the Australian government formally return more than 160,000 hectares to the land’s original custodians. The Queensland government and the Eastern Kuku Yalanji now jointly manage the Daintree, Ngalba Bulal, Kalkajaka, and Hope Islands parks with the intention for the Eastern Kuku Yalanji to eventually be the sole stewards. 

Rooted in an understanding of the land as kin, the Eastern Kuku Yalanji people are collaborating with environmental charities like Rainforest Rescue and Climate Force to repair what’s been lost, reforesting hundreds of acres and creating a wildlife corridor between the Daintree Rainforest and the Great Barrier Reef. The corridor aims to regenerate a portion of the rainforest that was cleared in the 1950s for agriculture.

Upon returning to Cairns from the rainforest, we set sail and marveled at the Great Barrier Reef. My memories of the Daintree’s deep greens mingled with the underwater rainbow of the reef. At the Cairns Art Gallery the next day, a solo exhibition of artist Maharlina Gorospe-Lockie’s work, Once Was, visualized this amalgamation of colors in my mind. Gorospe-Lockie’s imagined tropical coastal landscapes draw from her work on coastal zone management in the Philippines and challenge viewers to consider the changes in our natural environment.

Maharlina Gorospe-Lockie, Everything Will Be Fine #1 2023
From the solo exhibition Once Was at the Cairns Art Gallery. (photo by author).

On the final day wrapping our fig in New York, I lean on a ladder above the canopy of our community garden and in the understory of the urban jungle. Visitors filter in and out, often stopping to ask what we’re up to. Some offer condolences for the garden and our beloved fig, at risk of eviction in February. We share stories of the burlap tree and look forward to the day we unwrap its branches.

The parallel lives of these figs cross paths only in my mind, and now yours. Perhaps also in the fig on your plate or the tree soon to be planted around the corner.


Jane Olsen is a writer committed to climate justice. Born and raised in New York City, she is driven to make cities more livable, green and just. She is also passionate about the power of storytelling to evoke change and build community. This fuels her love for writing, as does a desire to convey and inspire biophilia. Jane earned her BA in English with a Creative Writing concentration and a minor in Government and Legal Studies from Bowdoin College.


Sources and Further Reading:

Featured Creature: ‘Ōhi’a Lehua

What tree has adapted to grow directly in lava rock and is a keystone species of the Hawaiian watershed?

‘Ōhi’a Lehua (Metrosideros polymorpha)!

Image Credit: Kevin Faccenda via iNaturalist 

The first time I saw the vibrant blossoms of the ‘ōhi’a lehua tree, I was walking on a dirt path in Kauai’s Waimea Canyon State Park, gaping down at the most colorful red and green gorges I had ever seen. Needing a breather from the steep visual plunge, I looked up from the canyon and noticed bright red flowers on the side of the path. As I got closer and could see the plant more clearly, the first thought that popped into my head was how similar the flowers looked to those fiber optic light toys I had played with as a kid. (If you don’t know what fiber optic light toys look like, look them up. You’ll see exactly what I mean.) 

After my trip to Waimea Canyon, I saw ‘ōhi’a lehua everywhere. When I drove along the coast between the beach and the sloping mountains, when I hiked the volcanic craters of Haleakala, and when I visited parks and gardens across the islands that protect native plants and animals. ‘Ōhi’a lehua is the most common native tree in Hawaii, so seeing its fiery red, orange, or yellow blossoms every day felt so very ordinary. But ‘ōhi’a lehua is far from ordinary.

Let Me Introduce You to My New Friend, ‘Ōhia Lehua

Endemic to the six largest islands of Hawaii, ‘ōhi’a lehua is the dominant tree species in native forests, present in approximately 80% of the total area of these ecosystems and covering close to one million acres of land across the state. Depending on where exactly it grows, its size can vary widely, from a small shrub to a large tree. Found only in the Hawaiian archipelago, ‘ōhi’a lehua grows at elevations from sea level to higher than 9000 feet, and in a variety of habitats like shrublands, mesic forests (forests that receive a moderate amount of moisture throughout the year), and more wet, or hydric, forests.

You can easily identify the ‘ōhi’a lehua blossoms by their mass of stamens – the part of the flower that produces pollen – which are slender stalks with pollen-bearing anthers on the end. It’s what made me think the ‘ōhi’a lehua looked exactly like those fiber optic light toys. These powder puff-like flowers are most often brilliant shades of red and orange, but yellow, pink, and sometimes even white ones can be found.

‘Ōhi’a lehua grows slowly, reaching up to 20-25 meters (66-82 feet) in certain conditions.

With a little help from the wind, the seeds of ‘ōhi’a lehua travel from the tree and settle in cracks in the ground of young lava rock. It is, in every sense, a true pioneer plant. As one of the earliest plants to colonize and grow in fresh lava fields, ‘ōhi’a lehua stabilizes the soil and makes it more habitable for other species.

Even though ‘ōhi’a lehua can blanket Hawaii’s native forests, this flowering tree also grows alone, as you can see in the photograph below. Plants like ‘ōhi’a lehua fill me with happiness because they are able to grow in the most harsh, barren, and disrupted places, and they make it possible for other species to do the same. Plants like ‘ōhi’a lehua fill me with surety that even though sometimes poorly treated, the natural world will continue to be strong. Plants like ‘ōhi’a lehua make me believe in the resilience of nature.

Arid, rocky, Mediterranean coast. (Via Pexels)

How ‘Ōhi’a Lehua Cares for the Hawaiian People

Biodiversity forms the web of life we depend on for so many things – food, water, medicine, a stable climate, and more. But this connection between human beings and natural life is not always clear, understood, or appreciated. But there is a concept in Hawaiian culture called aloha ‘āina, or love of the land, which teaches that if you take care of the land, it will take care of you. The ‘ōhi’a lehua in particular takes care of the Hawaiian people in a pretty special way. 

One of the most important characteristics of this flowering evergreen tree is that it’s a keystone species, protecting the Hawaiian watershed and conserving a great amount of water. The way I see it, ‘Ōhi’a lehua is an essential glue that holds Hawaii’s native ecosystems together. The leaves of ‘ōhi’a lehua are excellent at catching fog, mist, and rain, replenishing the islands’ aquifers and providing drinking and irrigation water for Hawaiian communities. ‘Ōhi’a lehua’s ability to retain water, particularly after storms, not only makes that water accessible for other plants, but it helps mitigate erosion and flooding. The tree provides food and shelter for native insects, rare native tree snails (kāhuli), and native and endangered birds like the Hawaiian honeycreepers (‘i’iwi, ‘apapane, and ‘ākepa). ‘Ōhi’a lehua trunks protect native seedlings and act as nurse logs, providing new plants with nutrients and a growing environment.

‘I’iwi, the Scarlet Hawaiian Honeycreeper, perched on an ‘ohi’a tree (Image Credit: Nick Volpe)

The Myth of ‘Ōhi’a Lehua

‘Ōhi’a lehua may have a disproportionately large effect on Hawaii’s ecosystems as a keystone species, but its presence as a meaningful part of Hawaiian culture could be even larger. There are many versions of mo’olelo (story) about the origin of the ‘ōhi’a lehua tree, but the most common one is about young lovers named Ōhi’a and Lehua. Pele, the goddess of the volcano, changed herself into a human woman and tried to entice ‘Ōhi’a. When he denied her, Pele became enraged and transformed ‘Ōhi’a into a tree. When Lehua found out, she was so heartbroken that she prayed to the gods to somehow help her reunite with him. Answering her prayers, the gods transformed Lehua into a flower and placed her on the ‘ōhi’a tree’s limbs. To this day, it’s believed that whenever a lehua flower is picked, the skies will open up and rain will fall, because the lovers have been separated.

‘Ōhi’a Lehua as a Cultural Symbol

In Hawaiian culture, the ‘ōhi’a lehua is a symbol of love, resilience, and ecological harmony. The transformation of Ohia and Lehua into tree and flower represents the inseparable bond between two people who love each other, and between the tree and its flowers. The term pua lehua, or lehua flowers, is often used to describe people who express the same grace, strength, and resilience of the ‘ōhi’a lehua. Pilina, a Hawaiian word that means “connection” or “relationship,” is an important value in Hawaiian culture because it is a critical way for people to connect with and understand the world around them. The ‘ōhi’a lehua tree is a symbol of pilina, and embodies this relationship between the Hawaiian landscape and its people.

The ‘ōhi’a lehua is also incredibly important to hula. Hula is the narrative dance of the Hawaiian Islands, and it is an embodiment of one’s surroundings. Dancers use fluid and graceful movements to manifest what they see around them and tell stories about the plants, animals, elements, and stars. ‘Ōhi’a lehua trees and forests are considered sacred to both Pele, the goddess of the volcano as you may recall, and Laka, goddess of hula. To enhance their storytelling and evoke the gods, dancers traditionally wear lehua blossoms or buds in lei, headbands, and around their wrists and ankles.

The Dependability of ‘Ōhi’a Lehua 

‘Ōhi’a lehua has long been a part of daily life. Historically, the hardwood of the tree was used for kapa (cloth) beaters, papa ku’i ‘ai (poi pounding boards), dancing sticks and ki’i (statues), weapons, canoes, and in the construction of houses and temples. Today, the tree’s wood is used for flooring, furniture, fencing, decoration, carving, and firewood. ‘Ōhi’a lehua blossoms decorate altars for cultural ceremonies and practices. Flowers, buds, seeds, and leaves form the base of medicinal teas that can stimulate appetite and treat childbirth pain.

Threats to ‘Ōhi’a Lehua

As a native tree, ‘ōhi’a lehua competes with invasive species for moisture, nutrients, light, and space. Plants like the strawberry guava plant (Psidium cattleyanum) grow in dense thickets and block the growth of ‘ōhi’a seedlings. The invasive fountain grass (Pennisetum setaceum) can dominate barren lava flows, making it difficult for ‘ōhi’a to compete. ‘Ōhi’a lehua is also threatened by non-native animals. Hooved animals like pigs, cattle, goats, and deer disturb the soil, eat sensitive native plants, and trample the roots of ‘ōhi’a lehua trees.

The most dangerous threat to ‘ōhi’a lehua is a virulent fungus called Ceratocystis fimbriate, which attacks the tree’s sapwood, preventing it from uptaking water and nutrients, and killing the tree within weeks. It’s been given the name Rapid Ohia Death (ROD) because of how quickly it suffocates the tree, turning the leaves yellow and brown and the sapwood black with fungus. Infections spread through a wound in the bark, which can be caused by animals trampling roots, lawn mowing, or even pruning, and can be present in the tree for up to a year before showing symptoms. ROD is spread by an invasive species of wood boring Ambrosia beetle that infests the tree and feeds off the fungus. When colonizing trees, the beetle produces a sawdust-like substance made of excrement and wood particles called frass, which can contain living fungal spores that get carried in wind currents and spread by sticking to animals and human clothes, tools, and vehicles. 

Since its discovery in 2014, ROD has killed more than one million ‘ōhi’a lehua trees across 270,000 acres of land, making it a significant threat to biodiversity and cultural heritage. The International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) classifies ‘ōhi’a lehua’s conservation status as vulnerable, and has recorded a decline in mature trees since 2020. Because ROD can spread long distances, it has the potential to wipe out ‘ōhi’a lehua across the entire state. If ‘ōhi’a lehua disappears, it will lead to a collapse of the Hawaiian watershed and radically change the ecosystem.

How the Hawaiian People Care for ‘Ōhi’a Lehua

Scientists, researchers, and native Hawaiians are working together to ensure the long-term health and resilience of ‘ōhi’a and Hawaii’s native forests by mitigating the spread of Rapid Ohia Death. Hawaii’s Forest Service monitors the land to track the spread of ROD and mortality of trees, has developed sanitation and wound-sealing treatments, and collaborates with hunters and game managers to reduce disease transmission. Scientists rigorously test ‘ōhi’a trees to understand the disease cycle, find out how it can be broken, and to identify trees resistant to the infection that could be used in potential reforestation efforts. 

To prevent the spread, Hawaii has announced quarantine restrictions, travel alerts, and sanitation rules. If you are shipping vehicles between islands, you should clean the entire understory with strong soap to remove all mud and dirt from the tires and wheel wells. People who go into ‘ōhi’a forests are advised to avoid breaking branches or moving wood around, to clean their shoes and clothes, and to decontaminate any tools used with alcohol or bleach to kill the fungus. Even hula practitioners are forgoing the use of ‘ōhi’a lehua.

Orange ‘ōhi’a lehua blossom (Image Credit: Joan Wasser via National Park Service)

Mālama the ‘āina

Mālama the ‘āina is a phrase that means to care for and honor the land. ‘Ōhi’a lehua is a wonderful representation of the interconnection between people and nature and I hope learning about this beautiful tree has encouraged you to appreciate the relationship we have with the Earth and what the natural world does for us. 

Remember, if you take care of the land, it will take care of you.

Abigail


Abigail Gipson is an environmental advocate with a bachelor’s degree in humanitarian studies from Fordham University. Working to protect the natural world and its inhabitants, Abigail is specifically interested in environmental protection, ecosystem-based adaptation, and the intersection of climate change with human rights and animal welfare. She loves autumn, reading, and gardening.


Sources and Further Reading:

Featured Creature: Stone Pine

What Mediterranean tree is uniquely equipped to withstand wildfires with armor-like bark and high, out of reach, branches?

The stone pine!

The stone pine in Casa de Campo, Madrid. (image by author)

In his 1913-1927 novel, In Search of Lost Time, French writer Marcel Proust described the power of a soft, buttery madeleine cookie dipped in tea to transport the story’s narrator back to his childhood, unlocking a flood of vivid memories, emotions, and senses. Since then, the term “Proustian memory” has come to describe the sights, smells, sounds, or tastes that bring us back to a particular place in time, one that reminds each of us that we are home.

This is how my partner talks about the stone pine (Pinus pinea) in Spain. Raised in Madrid, she moved to the U.S. when she was twenty-three. For the next decade she’d go long stretches without returning home (blame grad school, work, a global pandemic, and high airfare).

But on those occasions where she was able to return home for a visit, before that first sip of cafe con leche, it was the stone pines flickering past the taxi cab window that brought her back to the youth she’d spent running beneath them, and told her soul that she was home.

There are few markers more reliable than the stone pine to remind you that you are in the Mediterranean. Its branchless trunk rises 25-30 meters from the dry ground. Deep grooves run up the thick, rugged bark in shades of rust and ash-gray. It is bare all the way up to a rounded crown that seems to hover above the landscape. Branches bearing clusters of slender needles splay out horizontally and cast large soft shadows on the ground, giving the tree its nickname, the parasol (umbrella) pine. Its high canopy offers nesting sites and vantage points for many birds of the Med, like Eurasian Jays and Red Kites.

The stone pine’s unique silhouette foreshadows its individuality among its relatives in the genus Pinus

The Parasol Pine

It is a resilient tree with few natural predators. High branches keep its cones away from most ground-dwelling herbivores, and that hardy bark helps shield against both prying insects and wildfire, perhaps its most common threat in the Mediterranean. The clustering of branches high above the brush also helps it withstand fire events more successfully than other species in the area. That said—it’s important to understand that pests (like the pine tortoise scale) and runaway fires do remain serious threats, even if the stone pine is better prepared to meet them. 

The tree also stands apart from other species of pine in its lack of hybridization—that is, its failure to crossbreed with other pine species, despite existing in close proximity. It does not demonstrate a tendency to interbreed with its neighbors like Pinus halepensis (Aleppo pine) or Pinus pinaster (maritime pine), and that is unusual among pines. It’s really just out here doing its own thing.

This pattern of genetic isolation is a product of circumstances. The stone pine’s pollination window doesn’t often line up with other species and, even when they do, the tree’s genetic makeup has remained distinct enough (while others have hybridized) that fertilization is increasingly improbable.

And unlike other pine species, stone pine seeds are not effectively dispersed by the wind, perhaps contributing to this isolation. Instead, they rely on the few animals that can reach them, particularly birds, to shake them free and drop them elsewhere.

Arid, rocky, Mediterranean coast. (Via Pexels)

Digging Deeper

I hope we’ve established that the stone pine is one tough, rugged cookie, designed from the root up to thrive in a variety of ecosystems around the Mediterranean. But what’s going on below the surface?

To really understand any tree, you’ve got to look down. When we talk about “siliceous” soils, we’re talking about soils that are made up mostly of silica—essentially a mineral of silicon and oxygen that comes from rocks like quartz and sandstone. These soils are characteristically sandy and drain water quickly, but offer fewer nutrients—making them less fertile and more inhospitable for many trees. They also tend to be more acidic. 

On the other half of the pH scale (which measures the acidity of acids on one end, and alkalinity of bases on the other) are what are known as “calcareous” soils—that is, soils rich in calcium carbonate from sources like limestone or chalk, but light on most other important nutrients.

Understanding pH and soil. Ann McCauley et al. 2017, Montana State University

Both of these types of soil are found along the rocky Mediterranean. And while its preference is for the former, more siliceous soils, the stone pine does well in both. In fact, it’s this ability to thrive in these rocky soils that earned the tree its name, the stone pine. Of course, the tree’s deep roots alone are not always enough to survive in these nutrient-deficient soils. Like other pines around the world, Pinus pinea benefits from ectomycorrhizas, the symbiotic relationship between the tree and fungi in the ground that help facilitate nutrient exchange in soils where they are harder to come by. It’s a fascinating relationship that certainly deserves its own essay, but it is important to understand the critical role Ectomycorrhizal fungi (EMF) play in maintaining thriving forest ecosystems. They form mutually beneficial relationships with trees, where the fungi exchange those coveted soil nutrients for carbon compounds produced by the trees during photosynthesis. This natural partnership supports nutrient cycling and enhances tree health and growth, allowing pines just like the stone to survive under more challenging soil conditions. 

Explore visualizations of how Ectomycorrhizal fungi support forest growth.

In the course of human events

We know quite a bit more about where the stone pine is, rather than where it’s from. Pinpointing its native range has proven difficult because the tree has been harvested, traded, and replanted by human since prehistory—first for their edible pine nut seeds, then by later civilizations like the Romans for their ornamental status. Even today, it is common throughout the region to find a street or garden lined with the distinctive tree.

Today, pine nuts from the stone pine remain big business, and their cultivation has been seen as an alternative crop in regions where the arid soil would make other agricultural endeavors too difficult.

Pine nuts served on a dish of roasted peppers. Via Pexels.

I’ve realized there is more to learn about the stone pine than I could ever hope to fit on a page. In my naivety or ignorance, I did not expect that. Its deceptively simple silhouette belies a complex story of resilience, symbiosis, and ancient history and, for at least one Spaniard, a reminder that she’s home.


Brendan began his career teaching conservation education programs at the Columbus Zoo and Aquarium. He is interested in how the intersection of informal education, mass communications and marketing can be retooled to drive relatable, accessible climate action. While he loves all ecosystems equally, he is admittedly partial to those in the alpine.  


Sources and Further Reading:

Featured Creature: Mouse-ear cress

What plant was the first to flower in space and is the most widely used model species for studying plant biology?

Arabidopsis thaliana (Mouse-ear cress)!

Mouse-ear Cress, Arabidopsis thaliana (Image Credit: Brendan Cole via iNaturalist)

If you’re a regular reader of Bio4Climate’s Featured Creature series, you might be wondering why I wrote the scientific name of this organism first, rather than its common name. Arabidopsis thaliana (also known as mouse-ear cress, thale cress, or rock cress) is, in fact, recognized by its scientific name more often because it’s one of the most popular organisms used in plant studies and has become the model system of choice for researchers exploring plant biology and comparative genomics. In fact, it’s often dubbed the “white mouse” of the plant research community, making its common name something of a double entendre.

A. thaliana is a small plant with a basal rosette of leaves (a circular or spiral pattern near the base of a plant) that grows up to 9.5 inches (25 cm) in height, and small white flowers that give the plant its name. Mouse-ear is a member of the Brassicaceae (Brass-si-case-see), or mustard, family, which includes plants like —you guessed it— mustard, along with cabbage, broccoli, brussels sprouts, and radish. While A. thaliana is indeed edible like these more economically important crop plants, its capacity as a spring vegetable is not the reason for its fame. More on that story in a minute.

Native to Eurasia and Africa and naturalized worldwide due to human disturbance, A. thaliana is often found by roadsides and other disrupted (or man-made) environments. You have most likely walked by this cruciferous plant without even realizing it. To many, it’s just another weed (though it’s not actually a weed). A. thaliana is widely distributed in habitats with bare, nutrient-poor soil and rocky areas where other plants struggle to establish, needing only air, water, sunlight, and a few minerals to complete its short six-week life cycle. As a self-pollinating plant (selfer), it can also produce seeds without external pollinators. These characteristics help A. thaliana colonize those barren or disturbed areas, making it a pioneer plant—those hardy plants that pave the way and help initiate the development of a plant community.

What makes Arabidopsis thaliana so important in plant research?

Arabidopsis thaliana’s popularity as a leading research organism really exploded when its genome was fully sequenced in 2000. With relatively fewer base pairs of DNA and around 25,000 genes (other plants can have upwards of 30,000-45,000), the plant’s genetic simplicity —paired with its short life cycle— allows researchers to conduct experiments and analyze how specific genes influence development, physiology, and reproduction. Due to the volume of work being focused on the plant since its genome sequencing, A. thaliana is genetically well-characterized, and it’s become an important model system for identifying genes and their functions.

An invaluable effort supporting this research is The Arabidopsis Information Resource (TAIR). The online database offers open access to gene sequences, molecular data, and research findings, fostering collaboration and accelerating discovery. The Nottingham Arabidopsis Stock Centre (NASC) complements TAIR by maintaining the world’s largest seed collection for A. thaliana. With more that one million seed stocks and distribution networks spanning 30 countries, NASC ensures that scientists have ready access to the genetic material they need to push plant science forward.

Arabidopsis thaliana cultures in agar medium (Image Credit: Laboratoire Physiologie Cellulaire & Végétale: LPCV, or Cellular & Plant Physiology Laboratory)

The plant’s limited space requirements and ability to produce high quantities of seeds and specimens assists in repeated and efficient genetic experiments.

Adept at Adapting

When you think of plants and flowers, words like “fragile” or “delicate” often come to mind. While this may be true, nature is much stronger and more resilient than people first assume. A. thaliana is a prime example of how a small, seemingly weak-looking plant can, in fact, adapt well and keep itself alive. As a plant living in the natural world, A. thaliana has a range of defense mechanisms available to protect against herbivorous insects. Many unique samples of A. thaliana have leaves covered in trichomes, which are bristle-like outgrowths on the outer layer of the plant, that ward off moths and flea beetles. When A. thaliana’s plant tissue is damaged, special compounds call glucosinolates interact with an enzyme, producing toxins that deter most would-be attackers. Studying these Arabidopsis-insect interactions can provide crucial information on mechanisms behind traits that may be important for other plant species.

Using A. thaliana as a research tool has applications for larger, more complex crops. It has furthered our understanding of germination, aspects of plant growth, and been a key to identifying a wide range of plant-specific gene functions.

While A. thaliana has helped form the foundation of modern plant biology, its research informs areas outside strictly plant science as well, including air and soil quality from a public health perspective. A. thaliana can be used as an environmental monitor by tracking its exposure and reaction to different pollutants. This small plant also plays a part in biofuel production and space biology.

Arabidopsis thaliana grown in lunar soil
Image Credit: Tyler Jones via NASA

Did you say space biology?

Yes, I did! Arabidopsis thaliana was the first plant to flower in space in 1982 aboard the Soviet Salyut 7. Due to its research value, to this day is it one of the most commonly grown plants in space. While it’s not a viable source of food, discoveries made using A. thaliana provide insights that can be applied to a variety of other plants. In the inhospitable environment of space, researchers deploy advanced plant habitats (APHs) with automated water recovery, distribution, atmosphere content, moisture levels, and temperature to assess how A. thaliana’s gene expression and plant health changes in space. When the plants are mature, the crew will freeze or chemically fix samples to preserve them on their journey back down to Earth for further study. Experiments to understand how space affects A. thaliana’s growth and development are key to learning how to keep plants flourishing in space and, some day, help promote long-duration missions for astronauts.

Nature’s little secrets

Nature can be found in the most improbable of places. Yesterday, A. thaliana was just a weed, one of the countless others blooming in places we’ve made natural life nearly impossible. Along a busy road or in the cracks of an aging sidewalk. I’ve stepped over it and driven by it every day without thinking twice.

Today, it’s a rugged little plant growing in some of the most unlikely or inhospitable places, not the least of which is about 250 nautical miles above our heads. A. thaliana’s relatively simple and unremarkable nature is precisely what makes it valuable to science, acting as a sort of legend to help researchers study other plants. It makes me wonder what other of nature’s secrets I pass every day, hidden in plain sight.

Remembering to appreciate those little plants growing on the sidewalk,

Abigail


Abigail Gipson is an environmental advocate with a bachelor’s degree in humanitarian studies from Fordham University. Working to protect the natural world and its inhabitants, Abigail is specifically interested in environmental protection, ecosystem-based adaptation, and the intersection of climate change with human rights and animal welfare. She loves autumn, reading, and gardening.


Sources and Further Reading:

Featured Creature: Red kite

What acrobatic raptor was so essential to medieval public health, killing it was a crime and it became the national bird of Wales?

The red kite (Milvus milvus)!

Tim Morgan (CC via Pexels)

Nature really thinks of everything.

I was back on my run through Madrid’s Casa de Campo, the 4,257 acre public park and preserve where I found Feature Creature inspiration in the form of a sickly hare a few weeks ago. After spending several minutes observing the hare, I continued as my run opened into a large clearing. A cinematic scene rolled out before me, as a red kite (milvus milvus), one of the hare’s natural predators, dropped out of an umbrella pine and flew off before me.

Maybe it was just my own naivety, but it was a special moment for me. You see, I’d run the park many times before, but rarely looked any further than the trail in front of me. Instead, this time I tried to pay attention to the web of life around me, and how each strand of it, living or not, connected with the others around it.

Take that red kite. It is an animal that works in service of its environment with a body and design that, in turn, work in near perfect service of it.

Nature’s cleanup crew

The red kite’s nesting range stretches in a broad band from the southern corner of Portugal, up through the Iberian Peninsula, central France, and Germany, before reaching the Baltic states. Smaller populations are also found in Mediterranean islands, coastal Italy, and the British Isles, where reintroduction campaigns in the 1980’s successfully revived its numbers.

They prefer to nest at the edge of woodlands, enabling quick and easy access to the open sky and landscape, not unlike how I look for an apartment within walking distance to the metro, or how a commuter in the suburbs might prefer to live a short drive from a highway or major thoroughfare on ramp. But wherever the red kite calls home, it has an important job to do.

The red kite is, first and foremost, a scavenger. Its diet consists primarily of carrion—dead animals, often livestock and game. By feeding on these carcasses, the red kite acts as a natural janitor and ultimately helps recycle nutrients back into the soil and surrounding environment.

When a scavenger like the red kite feasts on a dead animal, it kickstarts nature’s process for removing a carcass from (or to!) the environment. In feeding, they speed up the process of decomposition by physically breaking down the body and handing off a more manageable scene to smaller organisms like insects, bacteria, and fungi.

These insects and microbes release nutrients like nitrogen, phosphorus, and carbon into the soil as they break down the red kite’s leftovers. These nutrients enrich the soil, promoting plant growth, supporting other forms of life in the ecosystem, and maintaining essential geosystems.

It’s humbling. What seems brutal or grotesque—feasting on dead animals—is really an elegant solution from nature to each life’s inevitable end.

Plasticity

While foraged carrion can make up the majority of the red kite’s diet (upwards of 75%), it is also an agile and capable hunter of hares, birds, rodents, and lizards, respectably quick prey in their own right. A deeply forked tail acts like a rudder, providing precision flight control when on the hunt.

Red kite displaying its distinctive forked tail
Stephen Noulta (CC via Pexels)

This remarkable agility serves another purpose: communication. The red kite pairs a variety of unique vocalizations with striking physical displays, especially during courtship. And man, on that front does it deliver. It’s as if, in a bid to outdo the more visually aesthetic displays of other birds like parrots and peacocks, the red kite said, “alright, I see your colorful feathers and raise you tandem, spiraling corkscrew dives.” It’s worth taking a few seconds to watch.

Red kites locked in a dive

This is all to say that the red kite is well-equipped to meet the demands of its environment, whether foraging or hunting. They have been observed changing their foraging behavior and diet based on food availability and changing environmental conditions. While this level of flexibility, or plasticity, is found among other raptors, what makes the red kite stand out in this regard is its success adapting to both rural and increasingly urbanized environments.

A connected, complicated story

It’s difficult to tell the story of the red kite without understanding the species’ relationship with us, with humans.

A natural & social scavenger, the red kite’s role in our story goes back almost as long as we’ve been hunting, practicing agriculture, and leaving waste in the streets. Our complex relationship spans centuries and reflects our evolving attitudes toward wildlife, shifting dynamics of human environments, and the species’ own plasticity. In the middle ages, the red kite was a common sight in European cities, and especially London, where it acted as a natural street cleaner, scavenging for scraps and waste in the then-squalid streets. In fact, it was protected by law, and harming one was a punishable offense, as its presence was crucial to maintaining urban sanitation.

Red kites depicted circling above London
Bredfield Wildlife Friendly Village

Attitudes began to shift however as human settlements expanded and agricultural practices intensified. The birds came to be seen as vermin, threatening livestock and hunting game populations. This, combined with a broader adoption of poison to control other animals like foxes, led to a dramatic decline in red kite populations. By the turn of the 20th century, the red kite had been pushed to near extinction in many parts of Europe. As few as a handful of pairs were believed to have survived in remote parts of Wales.

But as part of larger, global conservation trends, red kite reintroduction programs took off in the 1980’s, particularly in the UK. These efforts were successful, with Royal Society for the Protection of Birds operations director Jeff Knott declaring that it “might be the biggest species success story in UK conservation history.”

As I’ve come to understand it, this recovery is not so much the end of a story, but the beginning of a new, equally complicated chapter in Europe’s story with the red kite. Bird populations have rebounded, and are now learning how to live in a densely populated, 21st century world. Ever the survivors, red kites are adapting to modern urban and semi-urban environments. In southern England, they’ve once again become a common sight, soaring over towns and cities as they did hundreds of years ago, and foraging for food in suburban gardens.

Red kites soar above Barton-le-clay, UK
bitsandbugs (CC via iNaturalist)

Raised on a steady diet of Planet Earth, Animal Planet, and Nat Geo, I think it was easy to see “nature” as a separate thing we’re siloed off from in our built environments, something wonderful and to be safeguarded in a separate place, something we can enter and exit at our leisure. It’s evident even in the way we collectively discuss it. We talk about “being out in nature,” “escaping to the outdoors,” “getting away from it all.”

And sometimes it takes a bird like the red kite to remind you that nature doesn’t exist separately from us. The red kite doesn’t necessarily see the Iberian savannah as any more or less wild than a British village. Where there is any life, there is an ecosystem.

Running to catch the next creature,
Brendan


Brendan Kelly began his career teaching conservation education programs at the Columbus Zoo and Aquarium. He is interested in how the intersection of informal education, mass communications and marketing can be retooled to drive relatable, accessible climate action. While he loves all ecosystems equally, he is admittedly partial to those in the alpine.  


Sources and Further Reading:

Featured Creature: Cheatgrass

What plant plays an important role in the grasslands of its native hemisphere, but alters soil moisture and fire regimes when introduced in North America?

Cheatgrass (Bromus tectorum)!

Mature cheatgrass, Bromus tectorum
Michel Langeveld (CC via Wikimedia Commons)

A cheatgrass seed had needled its way into my skin again. I thought that I had freed myself of the cheatgrass when I came back east, to the land of ample water and broad leaves, and threw all of my camping gear into a dark corner of my bedroom. This was not so – it was hiding out in my sock drawer. When I pulled up my socks, I dragged the pointed tips of the cheatgrass seeds up my ankles, and I was once again somewhere out west, nursing the delicate white surface wounds that they left. I was, for the first time, not grateful for the tight warmth-trapping weave of my wool hiking socks – it is highly adept at locking the lance-like grass seed into a comfortable chamber from which it can prod at my ankles. The cheatgrass survived the washer and the dryer and my prying fingernails, survived my desperate attempts to wrench it out of my socks and into the campfire. Cheatgrass burns fantastically well– it’ll ignite from marshmallow-toasting-distance and beyond. 

My cheatgrass came with me from Wyoming months ago. Out there, it rolled for miles across the sagebrush steppe, slowly but surely creeping into every space between every shrub. The site where I gathered the seeds into my socks smelled more of earth than sagebrush, which was unusual for the basins where I’d been working. My boss Rachel and I hopped down out of our work truck and took in our site: some sagebrush, sure, but only a few dashes of it scattered between rolling hills of crisp, flame-red cheatgrass. The site was nearly silent; I found myself missing the usual distant whirrr of farm machinery and the cacophonous cry of a startled sage grouse. We were instead accompanied by the whistling of wind and the knowledge that we would be blowing dust into our handkerchiefs for a few days.

“Downy Brome”

Some call cheatgrass “downy brome”, which is a perfect term for it in the early spring when it hasn’t grown into its wretchedness. In early spring, when its long awns have not yet grown stiff and sharp, it is a soft and elegant plant. Its leaves fall in a gentle cascade from the long stem. The downy brome rolls over hillsides and whispers to its sisters in the breeze; as they dry in late summer, the wind knocks the heads of their seeds against one another, and they are scattered to the ground to start their cycle anew. When the cool season rains end and they’ve sucked up all the water they can from the parched earth, their chloroplasts finally falter, and the grass turns a faint purple-red from the awn-tip up. In spring, the dusty green tones of the sagebrush and the brightly-colored grass dapple the landscape. By summer, the sagebrush is nearly overtaken by an orange-brown, foreshadowing the fire which cheatgrass so often fuels. The grass sticks its seeds through your shoes and between your toes and into your socks and the hems of your pants. It doesn’t matter if you stop to pull them out– you will have just as many jabbing and nudging away at you after you walk another ten feet through their swaying abundance. It is useless to shake them out, too. You must pull them, piece by piece, out of your hair and your tent and your boots, and cast them to the ground. This is just what they wish for– you are seeding them for next year.

A rugged invader

Humans introduced cheatgrass to the Northeastern United States by accident sometime around 1860. You can find it in many places around New England, but in the presence of such an overwhelming amount of water, it often fails to compete with its fellow grasses and is relegated to cracks in sidewalks and highway islands full of compacted, inhospitable soil. Cheatgrass seems lost on this coast; few in the East know what it is or why it’s here. It is a plant surviving as plants do, regardless of the “invasive” status we’ve thrust upon it. In the West, however, its success is something wicked and wonderful.

Any water from the winter’s snowmelt or early spring rains gets sucked up by the eager roots of the cheatgrass, leaving little for the still-sprouting native grasses, forbes, and shrubs, even as their taproots probe deep into the earth. Ecologists curse the plant for its brutal efficiency in driving out those native to the arid steppe; birders lament the loss of woody habitat for their feathered favorites; ranchers sigh at the sight of yet another dry, nutritionally-deficient plant that even their toughest cow is loath to graze. And there is, of course, the fire. Cheatgrass dies and dries in the early summer, long before native grasses do, providing an early fuel source for the ever-lengthening fire season. 

Cheatgrass seeds
Jose Hernandez, USDA (Public Domain via Wikicommons)

The seeds lie in wait in the earth, and in the spring, they unfurl their new leafy heads and emerge from between blackened sagebrush branches. In the grass’s native range in Europe and Southwestern Asia, the plant is no worse or better than any other; it just is. Moths and butterflies lay their eggs along its edges. Ungulates nibble it slowly as their eyes each search opposite directions for the next snack.

Nearly all of the existing research on the plant explores its role far from home, in the United States. It is grass, and it would be hard to imagine that here on the other side of the world, some field tech is cursing its very existence. You’d never know from looking at the cheatgrass that ranchers and federal scientists alike have spent years dousing their own lands in herbicides with the hope of its extirpation. We humans have of course played our role in keeping the cheatgrass strong even as we try to drive it out, since cheatgrass, like many invasives, is far better at taking over already-disturbed soils where the native plant communities and biological soil crusts have been weakened. As extreme wildfires, agricultural use, overgrazing, and the general ravages of climate change continue to impact larger and larger regions, so too does the invasive capacity of the cheatgrass.

 I wore a different pair of socks hiking that day for fear of bringing more cheatgrass to Connecticut. It was silly, though; the cheatgrass already knows this land well. 

Jasmine


Jasmine Gormley is an environmental scientist, writer, and advocate from New Hampshire.  She holds a BS in Environmental Studies from Yale, where she conducted research in plant community ecology and land management. She aims to obtain a degree in environmental law. As a first-generation college student, she is passionate about equity in educational and environmental access, and believes that environmental justice and biodiversity conservation are often one and the same. In her spare time, you can find her rock climbing, foraging, and going for cold water swims.


Sources and Further Reading:

Featured Creature: Moon Snail

What seemingly cute, small creature is, in fact, a terrifying killer that drills a hole into their prey, liquifies it, and then sucks it out like a smoothie?

The moon snail (Naticidae)!

Lewis’s Moon Snail, Neverita lewisii (Image Credit: Siobhan O’Neill via iNaturalist)

Have you ever noticed those shells at the beach with perfectly round holes in them? I’ve always wondered how they end up like that. I thought, “surely it is not a coincidence that jewelry-ready shells are left in the sand for a craft-lover like me.” Amazingly, the neat holes are the work of the moon snail.

Take a look at holes made by the moon snail; maybe you’ve seen them before too.

The Small Snowplows of the Ocean

The moon snail is a predatory sea snail from the Naticidae family, named for the half-moon shaped opening on the underside of its globular shell. They are smooth and shiny and come in a variety of colors and patterns depending on the species: white, gray, brown, blue, or orange, with different spiral bands or waves. The size of moon snails also varies by species, ranging from as small as a marble to as large as a baseball. To traverse the ocean floor, moon snails use a big, fleshy foot to burrow through the sand. They pump water into the foot’s hollow sinuses to expand it in front of and over the shell, making it easier to travel along the ocean floor, like a snowplow. (Or should we call it a sand plow?)

Moon snails live in various saltwater habitats along the coast of North America. A diversity of species can be found along both the Atlantic Coast between Canada down to North Carolina, and the Pacific Coast from British Columbia down to Baja California, Mexico. They live on silty, sandy substrates at a variety of depths depending on the species, from the intertidal zone and shallow waters below the tidemark to muddy bottoms off the coast 500 meters deep (about 1640 feet, which is greater than the height of the Empire State Building!). You might find a moon snail during a full moon, when the tide is higher and more seashells wash up on shore, plowing through the sand looking for its next meal.

Northern Moonsnail, Euspira heros (Image Credit: Ian Manning via iNaturalist)

When a moon snail fills its muscular foot with water, it can almost cover its entire shell!

Lewis’s Moon Snail, Neverita lewisii (Image Credit: Ed Bierman via Wikimedia Commons)

The moon snail is part of a taxonomic class called Gastropoda, which describes a group of animals that includes snails, slugs, and nudibranchs. The word gastropod comes from Greek and translates to “stomach foot.” The moon snail is a part of this belly-crawler club because it has a foot that runs along the underside of its belly that it uses to get around! 

What’s on the menu? Clam chowder!

What does the moon snail eat? These ocean invertebrates prey primarily on other mollusks that share their habitat, like clams and mussels. They use chemoreception (a process by which organisms respond to chemical stimuli in their environment) to locate a mollusk and envelop it in their inflated foot, dragging it farther into the sand. 

Nearly all gastropods have a radula (think of a tongue with a lot of tiny, sharp teeth) that they use to consume smaller pieces of food or scrape algae off rocks. Moon snails are different. After their prey is captured, moon snails use their radula to grind away at a spot on their prey’s shell. With the help of enzymes and acids secreted from glands on the bottom of their foot, they drill completely through the shell of their victim at a rate of half a millimeter per day. Once the drilling is complete, moon snails inject digestive fluids into the mollusk, liquefying its innards, and slurp up the chowder inside with their tubular proboscis. The entire process takes about four to five days. Vicious, right? And what is even more brutal is that sometimes, moon snails are cannibalistic!

What role does the moon snail play in its environment?

Phytoplankton and algae form the foundation of the marine food web, providing food and energy to the entire ecosystem of sea creatures. Organisms that fall prey to moon snails, like clams and mussels, consume this microscopic algae, as well as other bacteria and plant detritus. The moon snail is a vital link in this interconnected food chain because not only is it important prey for predators like crabs, lobsters, and shorebirds, but it also provides these organisms with energy and key nutrients. Through decomposition, moon snails’ feces, dead bodies, and shells become nutrients for producers like phytoplankton and algae. 

Unfortunately, many things can harm moon snails and their habitats. Meteorological events like hurricanes can cause fluctuations in the species’ abundance. During heatwaves, when record high temperatures combine with extreme low tides like the one in the Pacific Northwest in 2021, moon snails can become extended from their shells, leading to desiccation and death.

The Earth’s temperature has risen at a rate of approximately 0.2°C per decade since 1982, making 2023 the warmest year since global records began in 1850. If yearly greenhouse gas emissions continue to rapidly increase, the global temperature will be at least 5 degrees Fahrenheit warmer and possibly as much as 10.2 degrees warmer by 2100. This continuous increase in temperature puts not just moon snails but humans and the Earth’s biodiversity at large at risk, not only because of more frequent heat waves, but because oceans are becoming more acidic as the water absorbs excess carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. As reporter Hari Sreenivasan explained in the PBS NewsHour report, Acidifying Waters Corrode Northwest Shellfish, ocean acidification affects shellfish a lot like how osteoporosis causes bones to become brittle in humans. The increasing acidity in the ocean reduces the amount of carbonate in the seawater, making it more difficult for moon snails and other shellfish to build and maintain strong calcium carbonate shells.

Colorful Moon Snail, Naticarius canrena (Image Credit: Joe Tomoleoni via iNaturalist)

Human activities also threaten marine creatures like moon snails. Shoreline hardening, aquaculture operations, and water management disturbs the food web and drives species towards extinction. Building structures on the shore to protect against erosion, storm surge, and sea level rise; projects such as geoduck farming; and creating dams and other water diversions disrupts animal communities and results in considerable habitat change. Fortunately, there are environmentally friendly alternatives, like living shorelines. These use plants and other natural features like rocks and shells to stabilize sediments, absorb wave energy, and protect against erosion. 

What can you do to protect these clam-chowing sand plows and the biodiversity of the marine sediment?

One thing you can do to help moon snails is protect their egg casings. In the summer, more moon snails emerge in the shallow, intertidal habitats because it’s time for them to breed. To lay eggs, the female moon snail covers her entire foot in a thick layer of sand that she cements together with mucus. After laying tiny eggs on top, she sandwiches them between another layer of sand and detaches herself from the firm, gelatinous egg mass and leaves them to hatch in a few weeks. These collar-shaped egg casings can sometimes look like pieces of plastic or trash, so make sure you don’t pick them up and throw them away!

Moon snails can be found washed up on dry parts of the beach as well as in submerged parts of sand flats during low tide. If you pick up a moon snail, remember to put it back in the water so it doesn’t dry out in the sun. 

The biodiversity in the marine sediment rivals even coral reefs and tropical rainforests. The organisms that live in this part of the ocean and the services they provide are essential for life on Earth. They cycle nutrients, break down pollutants, filter water, and feed commercial species like cod and scallop that humans eat all the time. Historical fishing activities, bottom trawling, habitat destruction, pollution, climate change, food web modification, and invasive species threaten biodiversity, functions, and services of marine sedimentary habitats. While there are many unknowns and ongoing threats to ocean life, that also means there are more opportunities for research and discovery that can inform effective ocean conservation policies. Supporting these policies that protect oceans and marine life is a way to protect moon snails too.

In ecology, there is a principle that suggests that each ecological niche is occupied by a distinct organism uniquely suited to it. This means organisms exist everywhere, and they have evolved to exist in these places in specific ways. The moon snail’s unique characteristics – notably the way it uses its radula to drill into its prey – shows us that in almost any niche, the organism which occupies it has similarly adapted to optimize its place in that habitat. I’m curious to learn what other unique traits organisms have evolved to adapt to their unique niche.

Off to shell-ebrate the beauty of our oceans and their creatures,

Abigail


Abigail Gipson is an environmental advocate with a bachelor’s degree in humanitarian studies from Fordham University. Working to protect the natural world and its inhabitants, Abigail is specifically interested in environmental protection, ecosystem-based adaptation, and the intersection of climate change with human rights and animal welfare. She loves autumn, reading, and gardening.


Sources and Further Reading:

Conservation Organizations

Articles & Papers

    Featured Creature: Slow Loris

    What creature has large eyes, dexterous feet, and is the only venomous primate known to exist?? 

    The slow loris (Nycticebus)!

    Image Credit: Helena Snyder (CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

    Sometimes the smallest creatures hide the largest secrets/mysteries. At just about 10 inches long and weighing up to 2 pounds, the slow loris is, in my opinion, no exception. This small, tailless primate with large (and iconic) moon-like eyes inhabits rainforests. As omnivores, slow lorises feed on both fruit and insects. There are nine species total, all inhabiting the Southeast region of Asia ranging from the islands of Java and Borneo to Vietnam and China.

    True to their name, slow lorises are not light on their feet and move slowly. Despite this, slow lorises are not related to sloths, but are instead more closely related to lemurs. But in the rainforest, that’s not such a bad thing. Their leisurely, creeping gait helps them conserve energy and ambush their insect prey without being detected.

    Adaptations

    Living in the dense, verdant rainforest isn’t for everyone.The jungle is riddled with serpentine vines, thick vegetation, and towering trees. But slow lorises have developed multiple adaptations that allow them to thrive in such an environment. 

      Their fur markings serve as a warning to other animals that they are not to be trifled with. This is known as aposematic colouration. Similar to skunks, contrasting fur colors and shapes signal that they are venomous which makes predators think twice about attacking. 

    Slow lorises are nocturnal, and those large eyes allow them to significantly dilate their pupils, letting in more light and allowing them to easily see in near total darkness.

    Even eating is no small feat in the rainforest. Slow lorises have specialized bottom front teeth, called a toothcomb. The grouping of long, thin teeth acts like a hair comb, allowing the slow loris to strip strong bark and uncover nutritious tree gum or sap. Equipped with an impressively strong grip, they can hang upside down and use their dexterous feet to hold onto branches while reaching for fruit just out of reach for most other animals. A network of capillaries called retia mirabilia allows them to do this without losing feeling in their limbs. With these adaptations, slow lorises are ideally suited for a life among the trees.

           Image Credit: David Haring (CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

    Venemous Primate

    Slow lorises are the only venomous primate on Earth. They have brachial glands located in the crook of their elbow that secrete a toxic oil. When deploying the toxin, they lick this gland to venomize their saliva for a potent bite. And no one is safe– slow lorises use this venom on predators, and even each other. Fiercely territorial, they are one of the few species known to use venom on their own kind. In studying this behavior, scientists have found many slow lorises, especially young males, to have bite wounds.

    The venom can be used as a protective, preventative defense mechanism as well. Female slow lorises have been observed licking their young to cover them in toxic saliva in hopes of deterring predators while they leave their babies in the safety of a tree to forage.

    Whether you’re a natural predator, human, or another slow loris, a bite is very painful. Humans will experience pain from the strong bite, then a tingling sensation, followed by extreme swelling of the face and the start of anaphylactic shock. It can be fatal if not treated in time with epinephrine.

    Image Credit: Helena Snyder (CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

    Bridging Human-Animal Conflicts

    There are two major threats to slow loris populations – the illegal pet trade and habitat destruction. Because of their unique cuteness, soft fur, and small size, these creatures are often sold as illegal pets. Poachers will use flashlights to stun and capture the nocturnal slow loris, clip or remove their teeth  to avoid harmful bites to humans and, because of their endearing, teddy bear-like appearance, sell them off as pets. Slow lorises are nocturnal and not able to withstand the stress of being forced to be awake during the daytime. They are also often not fed a proper diet of fruit, tree sap, and insects which leads to nutritional deficiencies and poor health.


    Habitat loss from agricultural expansion is another threat. As farms grow, slow loris habitat shrinks. Land cleared to plant crops encroaches upon the rainforest which results in less territory and food sources for the slow loris.

    However, one scientist found a way to reduce the canopy-loss from farming and restore slow loris territory. After observing wild slow lorises using above-ground water pipes to traverse farmland, researcher Anna Nekaris had an idea. Through her organization, the Little Fireface Project, she worked with local farmers to add more water pipes to act as bridges for slow lorises to use to move about the area. These unnatural vines provided a highway connecting isolated spots of jungle to each other. Not only did the slow loris population benefit by gaining more arboreal access to trees and food sources, but the community also benefited. Nekaris worked with the farmers to provide more water pipes to their land while showing human-animal conflict can have a mutually beneficial solution.

    Image Credit: Jefri Tarigan (CC BY-SA 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

    Conservation

    Every species of slow lorises is threatened, according to the IUCN, which monitors wild populations. Slow lorises may seem like an odd and somewhat unimportant creature on the grand ecological scale, but they are very important pollinators. When feeding on flowers, sap, or fruit, they are integral in spreading pollen and seeds across the forest. Through foraging and dispersal, slow lorises maintain the health of the ecosystem’s flora. 

    The slow loris garners attention for its cute looks, but beneath its fuzzy face and moon-like eyes, is a creature connected to the/its environment. Slow lorises are a perfect example of how species are tethered to their habitat in an integral way – their existence directly impacts forest propagation. As a pollinator, they disperse pollen stuck on their fur to new areas and increase genetic diversity throughout the forest. Slow lorises are proof of Earth’s interconnectedness. 

    To see the slow loris in action climbing from tree to tree and foraging for food, watch this short video.

    Climbing up and away for now,
    Joely


    Joely Hart is a wildlife enthusiast writing to inspire curiosity about Earth’s creatures. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in creative writing from the University of Central Florida and has a special interest in obscure, lesser-known species.


    Sources and Further Reading:

    Articles

    Scientific Papers

    Featured Creature: Iberian Hare

    What athletic creature can reach speeds of 45mph and cool itself down with large ears – all in a 2.5 kg frame? 

    The Iberian hare (Lepus granatensis)!

    Image Credit: Juan Lacruz (CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

    Five times the size of New York’s Central Park, Casa de Campo (literally, “country house”) outside Madrid is filled with rustic stone pine trees – emblematic of the Mediterranean and easily identified by their bare trunks and full, blooming crown of pine needles. It’s sometimes called the “umbrella pine” for good reason. Above, within, around, and beneath these trees, nearly 200 species of vertebrates live. 

    Out for a run through the park, my feet pounded the dry dirt along a gradual decline for the last mile. Here, the earthen trail dipped down steeply and cut through dense brush. As I dropped in, I almost landed squarely on top of what appeared to be a large rabbit. To my surprise, it didn’t dart away; I think I was more startled than it was. You see, I’d set out on that run in part to find inspiration, follow my curiosity, and think of a creature I wanted to learn more about. I’m not such a strong believer in fate, but this rabbit (or so I thought at the time) had certainly made its case. 

    I lingered and watched it mill around the brush. The more I watched, the more I wondered about its story. 

    A Keystone Species On The Iberian Peninsula

    The Iberian hare (Lepus granatensis) is endemic, or native, to the entire peninsula that contains Spain, Portugal, and the enclave nation of Andorra. Throughout that region they can be found in diverse habitats including dry Mediterranean scrublands, woodlands, and agricultural fields. It thrives in regions with ample vegetation that offer cover and food, adapting well to the peninsula’s varied landscapes, which range from dry, hot areas to slightly cooler, temperate zones. In some respects, Casa de Campo itself is a microcosm of these environments.

    Lepus granatensis is a keystone species, meaning it occupies an essential link in the ecosystem’s food chain and plays a particularly outsized role in balancing its environment. It survives on a diet of grasses, leaves, and shoots, playing a crucial role in seed dispersal and vegetation control – and is a source of prey for a range of birds and mammals. The hare’s diet and grazing habits help control plant overgrowth and support a diverse plant community, evidenced in Casa de Campo by the more than 600,000 plant specimens found in the park alone.

    The open ground this hare navigates every day is patrolled by animals who want to eat her– lynx, coyote, and red foxes from the land and eagles, owls, hawks, and red kites from the air. To get from point A to point B she must be fast, and she is. Powerful hind legs propel Lepus granatensis to top sprinting speeds of 45-50 miles-per-hour, making her one of the fastest land animals on the peninsula. It’s a pace that puts my nine-minute mile to shame, and is an essential adaptation to survive here, far from the relative safety of dense forest or lush meadow. 

           Casa de Campo, a 4,257 acre park on the edge of Madrid, boasts more that 600,000 plant specimens and nearly 200 species of vertebrates.
    Image by author, who was apparently far too busy taking pictures instead of running while on his run.

    Nature’s Air Conditioning

    When I first started coming to Madrid, adapting to the sparing or non-existent use of air conditioning in the summer was an adventure, to say the least. I can do without the Chipotle and readily available iced coffee, but having been raised on A/C since I was born, it took some getting used to. Unlike me in this regard, the hare I ran into that day is well suited to her environment. It is one of large, open landscapes dotted with thick low lying brush, olive trees, holm oaks, and pines. Rainfall is infrequent, and summers are scorched by the strong Spanish sun. 

    Her ears are larger and thinner than those of a rabbit. They often stand upright. When backlit, one can easily make out a network of veins and arteries, traversing the ear like rivers and streams through a watershed.

    An unidentified leporid (family of rabbits and hares) displaying the network of arteries and veins that help transfer heat from warm blood to the surrounding air, keeping her cool.
    Image by author.

    Therein lies her secret. Hares don’t perspire like you and me– nor do they pant like a canine. Instead, they depend on their large, thin-skinned ears to act as thermostat and air conditioner. No, they don’t flap them like a paper fan. Instead, they help her cool down by getting hotter.

    When the hare needs to release excess heat, she can expand that network of blood vessels in her ears, allowing her to redirect hot blood away from her body and through the thin skin of her ears. Because her ears have a large surface area putting those veins in closer contact to the ambient air, this increased blood flow facilitates the dissipation of heat into the ever so slightly cooler surrounding air, helping her regulate her body temperature effectively.

    We see this strategy of counter-current thermoregulation in nature again and again, in the ears of elephants and deer, and a variation in the snow and ice-bound paws of the arctic fox.

    Thermal imaging demonstrating how heat retention and dissipation in rabbits is concentrated through the ears. Image credit: V. Redialli, et al., 2008
    This thermal video clearly illustrates the
    heat disparity between a rabbit’s ears, and the rest of its body.

    Confronting a Microscopic Threat

    Before I continued my run, I fired off a few observations to a zoologist friend of mine for help with the species identification. Among them was what we suspected to be a bad case of conjunctivitis in both eyes; significant levels of swelling and discharge were present. 

    While neither of us can offer a certain diagnosis for this particular hare, further research has indicated that something more serious is afoot.

    In 1952, France was well into its post-war reconstruction, buoyed along by a growing economy and population. As the country was just beginning a new chapter in its story, so too was recently retired physician Dr. Paul-Félix Armand-Delille. In his new-found free time, Armand-Delille took up great interest in the pristine care and management of the grounds of his estate, Château Maillebois, in the department of Eure-et-Loir, a little more than 100km west of Paris.

    Troubled by the presence of wild European rabbits (Oryctolagus cuniculus) on his property, Armand-Delille read about the success Australian farmers had found using strains of the myxoma virus to control invasive rabbit species on that continent (they’d been imported by an Englishman decades earlier). Using his old medical connections, Armand-Delille secured some myxoma virus for himself and intentionally infected and released two of the rabbits on his property, confident that they would not be able to leave it. 

    Armand-Delille’s Château Maillebois today.
    Image credit: Marcengel (CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

    In just one year, nearly half of all wild rabbits in France would be dead, consumed by myxomatosis, the disease caused by the myxoma virus. In the decades since, the disease has ravaged Oryctolagus cuniculus populations across Europe, shrinking their numbers to just a fraction of what they were at mid-century. The sudden, near overnight disappearance of the European rabbit also crippled populations of its specialist predator, the Iberian lynx (Lynx pardinus). With the lynx unable to replace the rabbit in its diet, the species was pushed to the brink of extinction. Recent conservation efforts have helped recover and stabilize populations, but Lynx pardinus remains a “vulnerable” species. 

    Fortunately, over just the last few decades some populations of the European rabbit have resurged, having developed strong resistance to the virus.

    But viruses are always trying, though usually failing, to jump from one host species to another. As species migrate and habitats converge, a virus gets more and more chances to make the leap.

    As early as 2018, myxoma succeeded in making the leap from Oryctolagus cuniculus to Lepus granatensis. The virus that causes myxomatosis has wreaked havoc on Iberian hare populations on the peninsula; a species that did not have the advantage of decades and decades of exposure to build up resistance. Myxomatosis can cause fever, lesions, lethargy, and, it turns out, severe swelling and discharge around the eyes. Sometimes these symptoms can subside. But for the Iberian hare the virus is remarkably lethal, with a mean mortality rate of about 70%. Data indicates that since 2018, the virus has decimated Iberian hare populations. This break in the chain has serious implications for both the vegetation the hare keeps in check and the predators that depend on the hare as prey – implications that we are only beginning to understand.

    The impact of myxomatosis outbreaks on Iberian hare populations after the 2018 species jump event. Image credit: Cardoso B, et al.

    As a warming world continues to heat Iberia, the delicately balanced ecosystem Lepus granatensis inhabits is increasingly jeopardized. More intense storms flood the parched terrain while stifling heat and wildfires threaten vegetation. Lepus granatensis is likely to migrate north in search of more tolerable environments that can sustain the plant life it depends on for both food and cover. The further north the hare goes, the more its new habitat will overlap with the European rabbit and other species. The future of large populations of Lepus granatensis in the face of this disease and increasing climate fallout is uncertain. Since returning to Casa de Campo, I’ve noticed the swelling and discharge in other leporids as well.

    Lepus granatensis
    Image credit: JoseVi More Díaz (CC-BY-NC-ND)

    Complexity

    This isn’t the story I set out to tell. When I stumbled on the hare, I expected to write an essay about reconnecting with nature as I embarked on my own new journey as part of the Bio4Climate team. 

    Transitioning from a place of hope and curiosity, to understanding the more dire situation faced by both the hare I crossed paths with and the species as a whole was deflating. Yet, that’s all part of nature’s complexity; we don’t always get the happy endings we want. To some extent, these aren’t our stories to write. But even that conclusion is built around a false premise, because none of these stories are over. 

    The recent outbreak has prompted renewed research interest into threats facing hare populations. And even if we distill the bigger story down to this specific hare, I don’t know what will become of her. No, the odds aren’t great. But in the time that I watched her she simply carried on, foraging away in the brush. It’s a small thing to observe, but I think there’s hope in that— in identifying the struggle and the resilience of living things, and channeling that understanding to shape a better world. 

    It’s hard not to think about the web of plants, animals, ecosystems, and microscopic organisms that have been set on a collision course with each other as they seek to rebalance themselves. And in the middle of it all is us. 

    After watching the hare for a few minutes, I continued my run. The trail led out of the brush and opened up into a large, flat field, sparingly dotted with those umbrella pines. At that moment, a bird I later identified in iNaturalist as a red kite (Milvus milvus) dropped out of one of the trees, skimmed the earth, and climbed into the sky. 


    Brendan began his career teaching conservation education programs at the Columbus Zoo and Aquarium. He is interested in how the intersection of informal education, mass communications and marketing can be retooled to drive relatable, accessible climate action. While he loves all ecosystems equally, he is admittedly partial to those in the alpine.  


    Sources and Further Reading:

    Articles

    Scientific Papers

    Featured Creature: Eastern Emerald Elysia

    What creature steals photosynthesis, can go a year without eating, and blurs the animal-plant boundary? 

    The Eastern Emerald Elysia (Elysia chlorotica)!

    Image Credit: Patrick J. Krugg

    “It’s a leaf,” my friend said when I showed her the photograph.

    “Look closely. It’s not a leaf,” I replied.

    “What is it then? Some insect camouflaged as a leaf?” she asked, still staring at the photo.

    “It’s a slug. A sea slug. It starts as an animal and then… becomes plant-like. It steals chloroplasts. It can photosynthesize,” I almost yelled in excitement.

    “What do you mean, it steals chloroplasts? Is there some symbiotic relationship with bacteria that allows it to photosynthesize?” my friend asked—she’s a nature nerd.

    “No, not at all,” I said, feeling overwhelmed. “I don’t quite understand how it works yet. I am not sure anyone truly does.”

    It had only been a few hours since I learned about the Eastern Emerald Elysia (Elysia chlorotica). Since then, I haven’t been able to stop sharing this incredible discovery with anyone who crosses my path—whether they’re interested or not—I’ll share anyway. 

           At first glance, Elysia chlorotica might seem relatively modest. Image Credit: bow_brown_brook via iNaturalist via Maryland Biodiversity 

    Photosynthesis in Nature through Symbiosis

    Days later, as I write, I contemplate my friend’s first instinct. In nature, if you’re not a plant and want to photosynthesize, you usually rely on symbiosis. The first thing that comes to mind are corals. Corals host tiny algae called zooxanthellae within their tissues. The algae photosynthesize,  providing the coral with food and energy in exchange for protection and access to sunlight. 

    But I became curious — What other species in nature photosynthesize through symbiosis? 

    I learned that some sea anemones, sponges, giant clams, hydras and, surprisingly, yellow-spotted salamanders—the only known vertebrate that photosynthesizes—also rely on similar symbiotic relationships, though that’s a story for another time.

    And … lichens, too. 

    In his book Entangled Life: How Fungi Make Our Worlds, biologist and author Merlin Sheldrake describes lichens as “places where an organism unravels into an ecosystem, and where an ecosystem congeals into an organism. They flicker between ‘wholes’ and ‘collections of parts’. Shuttling between the two perspectives is a confusing experience.”

    Indeed, it is a confusing experience. There’s this consistent thread of life forms rejecting the categories we impose on them. Lichens blur the lines between fungi and plants, comprising fungi, algae, and bacteria—organisms from three kingdoms of life, each with a specific ecological role crucial to the whole—a miniature ecosystem. 

    But the Eastern Emerald Elysia (Elysia chlorotica) once more challenges categorization, blurring the lines between the animal and plant world. 

    Where does the animal stop and the plant begin?

    Upon a closer look, Elysia chlorotica proves to be more than ordinary. Transformation in color from brown-reddish to green upon stealing chloroplasts from the Vaucheria litorea algae. The transformation occurs in about 48 hours. Smithsonian Environmental Research Center (CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons 1, 2, 3)

    Elysia Chlorotica’s Way of Being: Living In Between Worlds 

    I am learning that Elysia chlorotica can be found very close to where I live on the eastern coast of the United States. My friend noted several sightings of them on iNaturalist in states like Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Jersey, and Connecticut. In fact, the highest concentration of Elysia Chloratica is on Martha’s Vineyard in Massachusetts.  

    Their preferred habitat is shallow tidal marshes and pools with water less than 1.5 feet deep. 

    They are shy, flat, and between 1 and 2 inches long.  

    And although they belong to the clade Sacoglossans, they are often mistaken for Nudibranchs. What differentiates the two is their diet. Nudibranchs are carnivorous, while the Sacoglossans are herbivores. 

    Sacoglossans are also known as sap-sucking slugs due to their feeding behavior. Elysia chlorotica feeds exclusively on the yellow-green macroalga Vaucheria litorea, the two living in close proximity. 

    Selected quote from the video: “It then lives on the food made by these chloroplasts.
    It is a fascinating story of endosymbiosis.”

    The term “feeding” might be a bit misleading. Elysia chlorotica does eat the algae, yet it uses its radula, a specialized set of piercing teeth, to puncture it and suck out all of its contents – “kinda” like a straw. In the process of feeding, it begins to digest everything else, except it leaves the chloroplasts intact – the tiny organelles responsible for photosynthesis in plants.

    The undigested chloroplasts become incorporated into the slug’s digestive tract, visible on its back as a branching pattern that resembles the venation found on a leaf or the structure of our lungs. This process is known as kleptoplasty, derived from the Greek word “klepto,” meaning thief. As chloroplasts accumulate, the slug’s color changes from reddish-brown to green due to the chlorophyll in about 48 hours.

     Karen N. Pelletreau et al., (CC BY 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

    When I read this, I engage in a thought exercise—I imagine I am eating a salad. The salad is composed of cucumbers, sesame seeds, and dill (my favorite!) with a bit of olive oil, vinegar, and salt. In the process of eating, I digest everything except the dill, which I leave intact within me. Once the dill gets to my digestive tract, within a matter of 48 hours, I start turning green and gain the ability to photosynthesize—to eat light, to fix CO2, and emit oxygen in return. 

    Of course, this is impossible (or doesn’t yet happen) for humans and animals. Repurposing chloroplasts into one’s physiology, even without digesting them, is a feat that is far from straightforward. It involves complex genes, proteins, and mechanisms—thousands of them—ensuring that this process functions correctly. There’s a precise interaction, akin to a lock-and-key mechanism, that makes this extraordinary adaptation possible. It is more of a dialogue, an evolutionary dialogue—an activation. 

    What is even more extraordinary is that Elysia chlorotica can maintain functioning chloroplasts for its entire life cycle, approximately 12 months. It only needs to eat once. Normally, chloroplasts need a lot of support from the plant’s own genes to keep functioning. When they are inside an animal cell, they are far from their original plant environment. And one cannot ignore the immune system, which upon sensing a foreign body, should initiate an attack. 

    This intrigues scientists. For example, there are many other species that are kleptoplasts, including a few other Sacoglossans sea slugs. I learned that some ciliates and foraminiferans are, too. And there’s a marine flatworm that can steal chloroplasts from diatoms. 

    However, none of them can maintain intact chloroplasts as long as Elysia chlorotica. 

    At first you might have been surprised by just how it incorporates plant-like processes into an animal body. But then the question transforms into how it maintains these processes. Maintenance, it seems, is still a mystery. And for what? 

    For a more in-depth exploration of Elysia chlorotica, watch this video and
    refer to its description for scientific papers and additional readings.

    Yet What is This Chloroplast Maintenance For? Does It Need Photosynthesis to Survive? 

    From the video above that does an excellent job summarizing various scientific discoveries and Ed Yong’s article “Solar-Powered Slugs Are Not Solar-Powered,” I was able to understand the development of a mental model and the nature of scientific inquiry through experimentation and challenging assumptions surrounding the sea slug. 

    Initially: It was believed that Elysia chlorotica stole chloroplasts and relied entirely on photosynthesis for survival.

    Then: It was found that sunlight isn’t crucial for its survival—starvation, light or darkness–it doesn’t matter.

    Finally: Research on other species of sea slugs Elysia timida and Plakobranchus ocellatus showed that while these slugs convert CO2 into sugars in the presence of light, they don’t need photosynthesis to survive. They concluded that chloroplasts might act as a food reserve, hoarded for future needs.

    However: The mystery remains of how chloroplasts perform photosynthesis in an animal body. The hypothesis that chloroplasts function due to gene theft was disproven. Chloroplasts need thousands of genes, mostly from the host cell’s nucleus, but that is left behind during chloroplast theft. Nobody truly understands how the chloroplasts continue to function under these conditions. 

    I’m left confused, moving from thinking photosynthesis was essential to realizing it’s not required for survival, yet chloroplasts still perform photosynthesis. 

    If you also feel confused, please know, this uncertainty and surrendering to the unknown is crucial when studying and learning from the natural world. Questions like ‘why they need photosynthesis at all’ and ‘how it happens’ remain unanswered. 

    Due to the difficulty of raising Elysia chlorotica in the lab, and the need to carefully limit their collection to protect wild populations, research on them is highly challenging. Climate change and habitat fragmentation make this task even more difficult.

    I look forward to following the progress of this research and am grateful to the scientists who continue to push boundaries and deepen our understanding of these remarkable creatures. This is one more example of why it is so important to protect and restore the Earth’s ecosystems.  

    The Genesis of Symbiosis. The Origin of The Chloroplast. The Becoming of the Earth.

    Researching Elysia chlorotica took me on an entirely different path. I have always been interested in the origin of things, how something emerges, and the question of what is the origin of the chloroplasts intuitively unfolded. 

    I tried to understand symbiosis as defined by evolutionary biologist Lynn Margulis. At the recommendation of Bio4Climate staff biologist Jim Laurie, I watched (and then re-watched) the documentary Symbiotic Earth: How Lynn Margulis Rocked The Boat and Started a Scientific Revolution.

    It led me to Symbiogenesis. Symbiogenesis, as defined by Lynn Margulis, is the theory that new organisms and complex features evolve through symbiotic relationships, where one organism engulfs and integrates another. 

    In a moment of serendipity, I was surprised to see in one of the scenes in the documentary that the Elysia chlorotica was on the cover of the book titled “Symbiogenesis: A New Principle of Evolution” by Boris Mikhaylovich Kozo-Polyanksy. One of its editors is Lynn Margulis. 

    Photograph I took of a projected scene from the documentary Symbiotic Earth: How Lynn Margulis Rocked the Boat and Started a Scientific Revolution.

    I never considered the genesis of symbiosis before–its connection with the genesis of life on Earth as we know it and with the biogeochemical cycles, fundamental processes that make our planet habitable. 

    This serendipitous moment, coupled with my learning process of Elysia chlorotica feels like some sort of beginning for me–a new understanding of how to perceive the becoming of the Earth.

    Lynn Margulis, through her Serial Endosymbiotic Theory (SET), proposed that chloroplasts and mitochondria were originally free-living bacteria that entered into symbiotic relationships. 

    I am becoming aware that these primordial organelles have been integral to life’s evolution, part of a biological legacy that has shaped the Earth’s emergence of life for billions of years. And it all started with bacteria! 

    Elysia chlorotica, with its ability to steal chloroplasts, has reminded me that when studying the natural world, there is always something that doesn’t quite fit into our predetermined categories of knowledge and that life inevitably discovers a way to persist through new configurations of interacting and being.

    We now understand that classifying nature goes beyond just physical appearances. There are hidden processes at play—molecular, genetic, and biogeochemical—that allow us to trace the origins of life and understand it in ways that extend beyond mere morphology. Nature, ultimately, defies rules—this seems to be the only rule. The once-ordered tree of life gives way to fluid boundaries and intricate entanglements. This emerging complexity reflects the true essence of life: dynamic, interconnected, ever-evolving, filled with irregular rhythms.

    And now, I have a new category, a new lens through which to perceive nature: “Animals That Can Photosynthesize.” (hear Lynn Margulis talk about this topic in the first 10 minutes of the podcast). 

    Left: Chloroplasts. Photo Credit: Kristian Peters-Fabelfroh (CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons)
    Right: Project Apollo Archive (Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons)

    Without chloroplasts, there would be no plants, sea slugs, and oxygen-rich Earth. And without cyanobacteria—the believed progenitors of chloroplasts—much of the life we know of today, and perhaps countless other forms yet to be discovered, would not exist.

    I hope you can look beyond the form of living systems and envision how life emerged through symbiosis. 

    Picture this emergence on various scales, from the microscopic chloroplast to the scale of an entire planet.

    With gratitude, yet green with chloroplast envy, 

    Alexandra


    Alexandra Ionescu is an Ecological Artist and Certified Biomimicry Professional. She currently works at Bio4Climate as the Associate Director of Regenerative Projects, focusing on the Miyawaki Forest Program. Her aim is to inspire learning from and about diverse non-human intelligences, cultivating propensities for ecosystem regeneration through co-existence, collaboration and by making the invisible visible. She hopes to motivate others to ask “How can humans give back to the web of life?” by raising awareness of biodiversity and natural cycles to challenge human-centric infrastructures. In her spare time, Alexandra is part of the Below and Above Collective, an interdisciplinary group that combines art with ecological functionality to construct floating wetlands and is a 2024 Curatorial Fellow with Creature Conserve where she organized a webinar and “Read/Reflect/Create” club centered on beavers.


    Sources and Further Reading:

    Videos

    Articles

    Scientific Papers

    Featured Creature: Leafcutter Bee

    What creature carves out little pieces of tree leaves to build its nest inside hollow stems?

    The Leafcutter Bee!

    Bernhard Plank – SiLencer (CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

    Known scientifically as Megachile (genus), leafcutter bees account for 1,500 of the world’s 20,000 bee species. I first noticed the work of leafcutter bees in my own backyard two years ago. First, you notice the “leaf damage” of the leafcutter bee. 

    Here is the “leaf damage” on a pin oak seedling. 

    The leaf damage takes the form of neat little curves. I recognized these neat little curves from having perused Bees: An Identification and Native Plant Foraging Guide, by Heather Holm, an author whose work I highly recommend. 

    In June of this year, I was fortunate enough to capture a leafcutter bee on video doing her work. I’ll show you the video below, but first … 

    How can we coexist with critters who are “harming” our plants?

    It is said, “If nothing is eating your garden, then your garden is not part of the ecosystem.” If you want your garden to be part of the ecosystem, then some of it will become food for other critters. Some of my leaves will become food for leafcutter bees. But then the leafcutter bees will pollinate my wildflowers and my vegetables, making it possible for them to bear seed and fruit. I am happy to make this trade-off, plus I want my garden to feed all of the living species, not just us humans.

    How do leafcutter bees differ from honeybees?

    Honeybees are the most famous bees. And who doesn’t like honey? But honeybees are only one species out of 20,000 worldwide.  

    Honeybees are social. So they live cooperatively in hives. But most bees are solitary, including leafcutter bees. They interact only in mating. And then they make their nests and lay their eggs in a nest that could be in the ground, or in a rotting tree or in the hollow stem of a dead wildflower.

    The North American continent is home to 150 of the world’s 1,500 species of leafcutter bees. Honeybees originate from Europe; they are not native to North America. 

    An “unarmed leafcutting bee” from my backyard

    Here is a video of an “unarmed leafcutter bee” in my backyard, cutting the leaf off a pin oak seedling. This female uses her strong mandibles (jaws) to carve out a piece of a pin oak leaf to build her nest. Notice how quickly and efficiently she does this work.

    How do I know this is a female? Because only the females build nests. The males die shortly after mating. 

    As soon as she is done cutting off the piece of leaf, she carries it back to the nest. The female nibbles the edges of the leaves so they’ll be pulpy and stick together to provide the structure for the nest.

    Where is she building a nest? 

    She may build her nest in the hollow stem of a dead wildflower stalk, such as ironweed or goldenrod. She may build her nest in a dead tree. (Forest ecologists say that a dead tree is at least as valuable as a live tree, because so many critters make their nests in them.) Or she may build it in the ground. Nests also include cavities in rocks and abandoned mud dauber nests (Holm, 2017).

    Here is the nest of a ground-nesting bee. In this case, it may or may not be a leafcutter bee.

    If we leave bare spots on the ground, then this becomes a potential nesting site for ground nesting bees, including some leafcutter bees.

    What purposes do the leaves serve?

    Leaves prevent desiccation (drying out) of the food supply. The leaves typically include antimicrobial properties, preventing the nest from being infected.

    Inside a nest, cells are arranged in a single long column. The female constructs each cell with leaf pieces, placing an egg along with pollen mixed with nectar, enough food for the bee to grow to adulthood, before leaving the nest.

    In the fall, the larvae hatches from the egg, eats the nectar and pollen, and gains enough energy to grow through several stages, called instars. But it does not yet leave the nest. In the spring, the larvae pupates and becomes an adult, finally crawling out of the nest.

    In the eastern U.S., common nesting materials include rose, ash, redbud and St. John’s wort. See below for photos from my home landscape showing the work of leafcutter bees on my pin oak, silver maple and jewelweed.

    Where do leafcutter bees gather pollen and nectar?

    Heather Holm, author of Bees: An Identification and Native Plant Foraging Guide, lists the following forage plants where leafcutter bees gather nectar and pollen:

    Spring Forage Plants: 

    • Golden Alexander (Zizia aurea)
    • Purple coneflower (Echinacea purpurea)
    • Foxglove beardtongue (Penstemon digitalis)

    Summer Forage Plants: 

    • Black-eyed Susan (Rudbeckia hirta)
    • Common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca)
    • Butterfly weed (Asclepias tuberosa)
    • Joe Pye weed (Eutrochium purpureum)
    • Anise hyssop (Agastache foeniculum)
    • Blazingstar (Liatris pycnostachya)
    • Blue vervain (Verbena hastata)

    Autumn Forage Plants: 

    • Goldenrod, species of Solidago, including showy goldenrod (Solidago speciosa)
    • Asters, i.e., species of Symphyotricum, including New England aster, (Symphyotricum novae-angliae)
    Here is a picture of Megachile fidelis, the faithful leafcutting bee, gathering nectar and pollen from a New England aster.
    Joseph Rojas – iNaturalist (CC BY 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

    Specialist Leafcutter Bees

    Some leafcutter bees specialize on the aster family of plants, known as Asteraceae. So we can support these bees around our home landscape by cultivating any representatives of the Asteraceae family, including goldenrod, sunflowers, ironweed and wingstem.

    Check out this video of a female leafcutter bee carving out a leaf piece from a China Rose.

    More leafcutting from leafcutter bees in my backyard

    Here is evidence that a leafcutter bee was carving off pieces of a silver maple leaf (left). Here, leafcutter bees have been working on a jewelweed plant (right).

    The following are photos of flowers from my home landscape, all of which make excellent forage for pollinators, including leafcutter bees.

    Purple coneflower
    (Echinacea purpurea)
    Cutleaf coneflower
    (Rudbeckia laciniata)
    Blunt Mountain Mint (Pycnanthemum muticum)
    False Sunflower
    (Heliopsis Helianthoides)
    Cup plant
    (Silphium perfoliatum)
    Butterfly weed
    (Asclepias tuberosa)
    Brown-Eyed Susan
    (Rudbeckia hirta)

    This is my front yard garden from 2022. 

    Included here are four great forage plants: Maximilian sunflower (Helianthus maximiliani), white crownbeard (Verbesina virginica), frost aster (Symphyiotricum pilosum) and New England aster (Symphiotricum novae-angliae)

    Grow your garden and grow an ecosystem. Cultivate a diversity of native plants and avoid pesticides.

    —Hart


    Hart Hagan is a Climate Reporter based in Louisville, KY. He reports on his YouTube channel and Substack column. He teaches a course for Biodiversity for a Livable Climate called Healing Our Land & Our Climate. You can check it out and sign up for a class here.


    Photos by Hart Hagan, except where noted.

    Sources and Further Reading:

    Featured Creature: Coelacanth

    What 200-pound nocturnal sea creature, thought to be extinct for millions of years, has one of the longest gestation periods among vertebrates? 

    The Coelacanth!

    Bruce A.S. Henderson (Wikimedia Commons)

    This sea creature was thought to be extinct for 65 million years before it was rediscovered in 1938. Ancient and rare, the coelacanth is a fish so named from its fossil. Scientists knew this fish once existed but never expected to find it alive in the depths of the ocean. The coelacanth (pronounced seel-a-canth) is about 200 pounds and can grow to over 6.5 feet in length.  Two species exist today – the Indonesian coelacanth (Latimeria menadoensis)  and the African coelacanth (Latimeria chalumnae).

    Anatomy

    Coelacanth is derived from Latin and means “hollow spine” due to their hollow caudal fin rays. They have thick scales giving them an ancient appearance.These fish lack boney vertebrae. Instead, they have a notochord which is a fluid-filled rod beneath the spinal cord. Coelacanths also use a rostral organ to detect the electrical impulses of nearby prey much like stingrays and sharks. Most distinctive is the coelacanth’s limb-like pectoral fins that appear more like an arm than a fin. The coelacanth has a very unique anatomy. No other fish on Earth possesses these special features. 

    Diet

    The next discovery of a live coelacanth came in 1952 – 14 years after the first revelation. But why did it take so long for another fish to be caught? Coelacanths live at great very deep depths, often over 500 feet beneath the surface of the ocean. When they venture into shallower waters, they tend to do so at night. Coelacanths are nocturnal predators.They hide under rock formations and in caves until nightfall when they emerge to hunt other fish, crabs, eels, and squid.They use their hinged skull which enlarges their gape to swallow prey.

    Population

    The IUCN has listed the coelacanth as critically endangered. It is estimated that only 500 coelacanths exist today. Although not considered an edible fish, as its meat is too oily for consumption, the coelacanth still falls prey to deep-sea fishing nets. If caught as by-catch, coelacanths can die from the stress. These threats can deeply affect the population because coelacanths have an unusually long gestation period of three years – the longest of any vertebrate species. Such factors make coelacanths extremely vulnerable to extinction. 

    Dean Falk Schnabel (CC BY-SA 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

    The story of the coelacanth proves there is always more to discover. Biodiversity fosters a sense of curiosity about the endless possibilities of the natural world.

    I wonder, if a creature like this still exists, what other species remain unknown to humanity?

    Swimming away for now, Joely


    Joely Hart is a wildlife enthusiast writing to inspire curiosity about Earth’s creatures. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in creative writing from the University of Central Florida and has a special interest in obscure, lesser-known species.


    Sources and Further Reading:
    https://a-z-animals.com/animals/mouse-deer-chevrotain
    https://www.khaosok.com/national-park/mouse-deer
    https://www.ultimateungulate.com/Artiodactyla/Hyemoschus_aquaticus.html
    https://factanimal.com/chevrotain/
    https://www.npr.org/2019/11/11/778312670/silver-backed-chevrotain-with-fangs-and-hooves-photographed-in-wild-for-first-ti

    Featured Creature: Chevrotain

    What creature is the world’s smallest ungulate?

    The chevrotain!

    Photo by Bjørn Christian Tørrissen (CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

    The chevrotain is an incredibly unique animal native to India and Southeast Asia. This creature is just 12 inches tall and about 29 inches long – the size of a rabbit. It weighs approximately 4-11 pounds and sports a reddish-chestnut brown coat with white markings on its chest. The chevrotain is the world’s smallest hoofed mammal. The chevrotain is also called the mouse-deer, but is not related to either a mouse or deer. Entirely a species of its own, the chevrotain is a one-of-a-kind creature.

    There are ten species of chevrotain, nine of which reside in Asia while one – the water chevrotain – is native to Africa, spanning from Southern Benin to the Democratic Republic of Congo. This particular species lives near rivers and lakes as its name implies. When threatened, the water chevrotain will submerge itself underwater for up to four minutes to escape a predator. All chevrotains are very small with the tiniest being the lesser Malay chevrotain at 4 pounds and the largest being the water chevrotain at 33 pounds.

    Photo by P. Jeganathan (CC BY-SA 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

    Diet

    These miniature ungulates are herbivores and feed on vegetation like grasses, leaves, roots, flowers, and fruit. The chevrotain is a ruminant and has a 4 chambered stomach similar to that of a cow’s. This stomach helps digest fibrous plant material and extract nutrients from plant matter. Chevrotains inhabit jungles and forage for low hanging and fallen fruit as well as ground plants that are easy to reach due to their short stature. 

    Fangs

    Despite looking like mini-deer, chevrotains do not have antlers. Instead, they have elongated incisors. In males, these teeth protrude beyond the mouth like tusks which are used when fighting. Chevrotains also  use their long fangs to expose roots for consumption.

    Photo by Vassil (via Wikimedia Commons)

    Jungle Ghosts

    Chevrotains are known for being solitary, quiet, and difficult to find amongst dense forests. One species in particular has remained hidden from scientists for nearly 30 years – until recently. The silver-backed chevrotain, native to Vietnam, had not been seen for decades, despite camera traps and excursions to find the creature. But in 2017, that all changed. A camera trap captured the elusive silver-backed chevrotain, the first sighting since 1990. Still, so little is known about this species that the IUCN has assigned the status of “data deficient”. 

    Conservation ensures that no species is lost to history and reinforces the importance of a diverse ecosystem where every organism has a vital role to play. Even when all hope seems lost, life finds a way.

    Treading quietly away for now,
    Joely


    Joely Hart is a wildlife enthusiast writing to inspire curiosity about Earth’s creatures. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in creative writing from the University of Central Florida and has a special interest in obscure, lesser-known species.


    Sources and Further Reading:
    https://a-z-animals.com/animals/mouse-deer-chevrotain
    https://www.khaosok.com/national-park/mouse-deer
    https://www.ultimateungulate.com/Artiodactyla/Hyemoschus_aquaticus.html
    https://factanimal.com/chevrotain/
    https://www.npr.org/2019/11/11/778312670/silver-backed-chevrotain-with-fangs-and-hooves-photographed-in-wild-for-first-ti

    Featured Creature: Bearded Vulture

    What handsome creature dyes its feathers and almost exclusively eats bones?

    The bearded vulture!

    Photo by Marco Pagano on Unsplash

    The bearded vulture (Gypaetus Barbatus) is a bird of prey known by many names including lammergeier, quebrantahuesos, boanbrüchl, and ossifrage.

    The origin of these monikers come from the bird’s unique diet – bones. While most vultures pick off the meat on a carcass, the bearded vulture prefers to consume the skeleton itself. Over 80% of their diet consists solely of bones.

    Weighing in at about 16 pounds and equipped with a wingspan of over 9 feet, bearded vultures are among the top ten largest birds of prey in the world. They use their substantial size to hoist the bone of their choice from the skeleton to the sky. They fly high enough to drop it onto a clifftop or boulder to break the bone into smaller, bite-sized pieces which they then swallow whole.

    What makes these birds capable of digesting bone is the strength of their stomach acid. Bearded vultures have a stomach acid of nearly zero pH. This extreme acidity dissolves bone within 24 hours. To put this in perspective, humans have a stomach acid pH of about 2 while battery acid has a pH of about 0.8. Bearded vultures are the only carnivores capable of completely digesting bone.

    Photo by Mr Wildclicks from Pexels

    Striking Appearance

    Bearded vultures appear different from most other vultures due to the lack of a bald head. Most vultures are known for having no feathers around their head and neck which helps them remain clean when scavenging carrion. Bearded vultures, because of their chosen bone-based diet, do not need this adaptation, and sport a feathered head. Adults have white feathers along their body, chest, and face while their wings are dark brown. Black tufts protrude from their chin which gives them their modern namesake of bearded vulture. 

    Bearded vultures have large, glacier-white eyes that help them spot carcasses from the sky. As Old World vultures, their sense of smell is not advanced and they rely primarily on their eyesight when scavenging. When threatened or excited, the scleral ring around their eyes turns a bright red.

    Bearded vultures have a unique propensity for the color red, so much so that they dye their white feathers a rusty vermilion. These birds will seek iron-oxide rich pools of muddy water or dust and bathe in it to color themselves a red-orange hue. Researchers are unsure of why they do this. Some posit that it is a sign of status – the redder the bird, the higher the seniority. Others believe the iron-oxide coloring helps prevent infections when breeding. Whatever the reason, bearded vultures paint themselves into a real-life phoenix. 

    Photo by David Ruh from Pexels

    Habitat and Ecological Role

    Bearded vultures call the mountainous regions of Eurasia, East Africa, and parts of the Middle East their home. They prefer to live in areas that grant them the best visibility such as remote mountain ranges, steppes, canyons, and alpine valleys.

    These birds tend to fly at high altitudes of about 6,500 feet above sea level. They utilize updrafts to ride the air currents which helps them conserve energy and glide for many miles.

    In the early 1900s bearded vultures were hunted in Europe due to a false myth that they supposedly preyed upon children and livestock. The population in this area declined and is still recovering today. Currently, humans are the greatest threat to bearded vultures as habitat loss and poisoning endanger the remaining populations. The species is listed as near threatened by the IUCN. 

    Bearded vultures are an incredibly important species for the ecosystem because they act as nature’s garbage disposal. They help clean the environment of carcasses and diseases which keeps other species healthy.

    Soaring away for now,
    Joely


    Joely Hart is a wildlife enthusiast writing to inspire curiosity about Earth’s creatures. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in creative writing from the University of Central Florida and has a special interest in obscure, lesser-known species.


    Sources and Further Reading:
    https://www.beardedvulture.ch/beardedvulture/biology
    https://faunafocus.com/portfolio/bearded-vulture
    https://safarisafricana.com/largest-birds-of-prey
    https://factanimal.com/bearded-vulture/
    https://digital.csic.es/bitstream/10261/64406/4/functilife.pdf
    https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/36596809

    Featured Creature: Cork Oak

    What creature is the engine of the Portuguese economy and works hard to delight wine-lovers around the world?

    The Cork Oak!

    Image by Annalisa Bussini from Pixabay

    The Cork Oak is a unique tree species whose bark is an ancient renewable and biodynamic material that supports a valuable Portuguese industry. Portugal produces 50% of the world’s cork, thanks to the abundance of the native Cork Oak that covers 8% of the country’s total land area and makes up 28% of its forests. 

    The harvested cork is made into the wine stoppers we all know, but cork is also used to create flooring, furniture, a variety of household items, and has even broken into the fashion industry in the form of clothing and accessories. Across Portugal, (where the Cork Oak is the National Tree), you’ll find locals sporting cork backpacks, wallets, sandals, and belts, to name a few. 

    On a recent trip to the Douro Valley in northeastern Portugal, I was inspired by the locality of the wine-making process, exemplified by the roadside Cork Oaks whose harvested bark was used to plug the bottles of Portuguese wine made with grapes grown on the same hills.

    The material is gaining more international recognition as a highly renewable and biodegradable resource that can replace traditional, more carbon intensive materials like wood, plastic, leather, and cotton in a wide variety of settings. 

    So what’s this tree all about?

    Image by Arthur Iannone from Pixabay

    Ecological Tenacity

    The Cork Oak, or Quercus Suber, is an evergreen oak species native to the Mediterranean region, most commonly in Portugal, Spain, Italy, Algeria, Morocco, and Tunisia. A lover of full sun, mild winters, and well-drained soil, the Cork Oak grows to a height of 40-70 feet. Its rounded crown consists of ovular, four-inch leaves that are dark green and leathery on top with a fuzzy, gray underside. The tree is characterized by its recognizable, fissured bark.

    Cork Oaks are environmental stalwarts, working hard to prevent erosion and increasing the moisture level in the soil. These services are crucial: Cork Oaks are on the front lines as desertification creeps northward in Africa. These Mediterranean Forests are home to surprisingly biodiverse ecosystems with nearly 135 plant species per kilometer, including other oaks and wild olive trees. These forests shelter a wide variety of animal species and are final strongholds for crucially endangered species like the Iberian Lynx and Imperial Eagle. Their acorns serve as food for native birds and rodents, their yellow flowers feed pollinators, and their unique ability to regenerate their bark makes them a valuable resource for humans.

    Image by Jörg from Pixabay

    A Material of the Future?

    What sets Cork Oaks apart is their thick, fissured bark with the rare capacity to regenerate every 9-12 years. Its harvest is a heavily regulated process in Portugal that takes place between May and August each year. Laws allow the harvest of a single tree only once every nine years starting at age 25. The process leaves the tree standing, and allows time for the bark to regenerate completely between harvests. Large swaths of the outer bark is cut and peeled off by hand, exposing the tree’s striking, reddish-brown trunk. The last number of the harvest year is then marked on the tree in white paint, as seen below with a tree in the Douro Valley whose bark was harvested in 2023. This tree will be ready for another harvest in 2032, nine years later. With a lifespan of around 200 years, a single cork oak can be harvested up to 15 times!

    Photo by Morgan Moscinski
    (Douro Valley, Portugal)

    Once the cork has been aged slightly, pressurized, and boiled (a six-month process), it becomes the lightweight and elastic material we find in our wine bottles. Naturally impervious to liquid while allowing a little air movement over time (this helps wine mature), the Ancient Greeks were the first to use cork as a bottle stopper over 2,000 years ago! It remains the preferred closure solution of contemporary winemakers.

    With immense environmental and economic value, the Cork Oak is a unique species working hard to keep the deserts at bay and the wine drinkers happy. A protected species in Portugal since the 13th century, the ancient practice of cork bark harvesting is more important than ever. The tree is not harmed by this process; it actually helps it become a larger carbon sink. The photosynthesis required to regrow its bark results in additional carbon dioxide drawn down from the atmosphere after each harvest. This fascinating process is a rare win-win in the search for biodynamic and sustainable materials. How will we use it next?

    Image by NoName_13 from Pixabay

    So, the next time you celebrate a special occasion, share a bottle with friends, or enjoy a glass of Douro Valley Moscatel after dinner (something I recommend), take a moment to think about the wonderful uniqueness of the material at play. And don’t forget to compost those corks at the end of the night!

    Off I pop!
    Ryan


    Ryan Pagois is a climate advocate and systems thinker serving as an Associate Director at Built Environment Plus, helping to drive sustainable building solutions in MA. He is passionate about urban ecology, carbon balance, and rewilding cities. He is excited to pursue a Masters of Ecological Design at the Conway School starting this fall, to explore how low-impact urban development can be our greatest climate solution and community resilience tool. He grew up in Minnesota and studied environmental policy and international relations at Boston University.


    Sources and Further Reading:
    https://www.rainforest-alliance.org/species/cork-oak
    https://www.gardenia.net/plant/quercus-suber
    https://cycling-centuries.com/blogs/news/everything-you-could-ever-want-to-know-about-cork-trees
    https://www.bourrasse.com/en/the-history-of-the-cork-closure

    Featured Creature: Blue Whale

    Which creature who helps fight climate change has newborns the size of an adult elephant and is not a fan of boats?

    The Blue Whale!

    Photo from National Marine Sanctuaries (via Wikimedia Commons)

    Big, bigger, and biggest

    Blue whales are the largest creature to ever grace this Earth. They can grow to around 100 ft (33 meters), which is more than twice the size of a T-Rex dinosaur! Newborn calves are around the same size as an adult African elephant – about 23 ft (7 meters). To get more of an idea of how huge these animals are, picture this: a blue whale’s heart is the size of a car, and their blood vessels are so wide a person can swim through them!

    Despite their large size, blue whales eat tiny organisms. Their favorite food is krill, small shrimp-like creatures. They can eat up to 40 million of these every day. They do so by opening their mouths really wide, and after getting a mouthful, they’ll close their mouths and force out the swallowed water with their tongue, while trapping the krill behind their baleen plates – this method is known as filter feeding.

    Photo by Don Ramey Logan (CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

    From coast to coast

    Blue whales live in every ocean except the Arctic. They usually travel alone or in small groups of up to four, but when there are plenty of krill to go around, more than 60 of these mega-creatures will gather around and feast. 

    Blue whales can communicate across 1,000 miles (over 1600 km)! Their calls are loud and deep, reaching up to 188 decibels – so loud that it would be too painful for human ears to bear. Scientists believe that these calls produce sonar – helping the whales navigate through dark ocean depths.

    Climate Regulator

    All that krill has to go somewhere, meaning out the other end. Whale poop helps maintain the health of oceans by fertilizing microscopic plankton. Plankton is the bedrock of all sea life, as it feeds the smallest of critters, and these critters then feed larger creatures (and on goes the food chain). Plankton include algae and cyanobacteria that get their energy through photosynthesis, and they are abundant throughout Earth’s oceans. These microorganisms contribute to carbon storage by promoting the cycling of carbon in the ocean, rather than its emission in the form of carbon dioxide.  Without whales, we wouldn’t have as much plankton, and without plankton, the food cycle would collapse, and more gas would rise to the atmosphere. Therefore, whale poop acts as a climate stabilizer.

    Learn more about this whale-based nutrient cycle here:

    Size doesn’t equal protection

    Unfortunately, the sheer size of blue whales isn’t enough to prevent them from harm. Blue whales were heavily hunted until last century, and although a global ban was imposed in 1966, they are still considered endangered. 

    Today, blue whales must navigate large and cumbersome fishing gear. When they get entangled, the gear attached to them can cause severe injury. Dragging all that gear adds a lot of weight, so this also zaps their energy sources. Since blue whales communicate through calls intended to travel long distances, increased ocean noise either from ships or underwater military tests can also disrupt their natural behaviors. 

    Another threat blue whales face are vessel strikes. They can swim up to 20 miles an hour, but only for short bursts. Usually, blue whales travel at a steady pace of 5 miles per hour. This means that they aren’t fast enough to dodge incoming vessels, and these collisions can lead to injuries or even death for the whales. In areas where traffic is high, such as ports and shipping lanes, this threat becomes even more prominent.

    To protect blue whales, and our oceans, we can implement sustainable fishing practices that use marine mammal-friendly gear. We can also reduce man-made noise, and utilize precautionary measures when venturing out to sea. That way we avoid vessel strikes and have a higher chance of witnessing the largest creature to ever grace our planet.

    For creatures big, bigger, and biggest,
    Tania


    Tania graduated from Tufts University with a Master of Science in Animals and Public Policy. Her academic research projects focused on wildlife conservation efforts, and the impacts that human activities have on wild habitats. As a writer and activist, Tania emphasizes the connections between planet, human, and animal health. She is a co-founder of the podcast Closing the Gap, and works on outreach and communications for Sustainable Harvest International. She loves hiking, snorkeling, and advocating for social justice.


    Sources and Further Reading:
    https://us.whales.org/whales-dolphins/facts-about-blue-whales/
    https://www.natgeokids.com/uk/discover/animals/sea-life/10-blue-whale-facts/
    https://www.fisheries.noaa.gov/species/blue-whale 
    https://www.greatwhaleconservancy.org/how-whales-help-the-ocean

    Featured Creature: Banded Sea Krait

    What semiaquatic creature has a paddle-like tail, swims through crevices, and can even climb trees?

    The banded sea krait!

    Photo by Bernard Dupont, CC BY-SA 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons

    Did you know that some snakes can swim? Beyond the legends of mighty and fearsome sea serpents, sea snakes exist, and swim through waters around the world, not just the pages of myth and folklore. 

    The banded sea krait is a type of sea snake that inhabits the Pacific and Indian Oceans. Males are about 30 inches long, while females can be up to 50 inches long. As the name may hint, the banded sea krait’s bluish-gray body is scored by thick, dark blue bands numbering from 20 to 65. The top half of its body is colored more darkly than its underside, a kind of pigmentation called countershading unique to many sea creatures. Countershading is a type of aquatic camouflage that helps the sea krait blend in with its environment, an adaptation that contributes to these creatures’ survival.

    By appearing dark from above, the sea krait becomes challenging to differentiate from the water. By appearing lighter from below, it melds with the sunlight of shallow water. This makes it difficult for predatory birds to spot the sea krait from the sky and conceals the reptile from prey watching below.

    The banded sea krait boasts a specialized tail shaped like a paddle that enables it to swim quickly through the water. These creatures also have valved nostrils to keep out water when diving. Despite spending most of its life in the ocean, the banded sea krait lacks gills and must breathe air. However, it can hold its breath for up to 30 minutes. A unique organ called the saccular lung helps banded sea kraits take in more oxygen when they come up for air. This lung acts like a diver’s oxygen tank. 

    Photo by Matt Berger, CC BY 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons

    Formidable Feeding Habits

    The banded sea krait hunts fish and eels. Its cylindrical body easily weaves through coral reefs and mangrove roots to reach the hiding spots of its prey. Females are up to three times larger than males and prefer to hunt Conger eels due to their size while males often select the smaller Moray eel. Like terrestrial snakes, banded sea kraits swallow their prey whole and can consume eels much larger than themselves. Such a massive meal hinders the ability to swim properly, so the krait must come ashore to digest. This digestion process can take weeks to finish. Talk about a satisfying meal!

    Amphibious Nature

    Banded sea kraits venture on land to digest food, shed skin, drink freshwater, and lay eggs. They spend about 25% of their time on islands, mangrove forests, or rocky inlets and the rest in the sea. Despite their paddle-like tail better suited for swimming, they travel remarkably well on land, and have even been observed climbing trees. 

    Banded sea kraits use rocks to shelter beneath while waiting to digest their food and to rub against to help shed their skin. These reptiles must consume freshwater to survive and find lakes, streams, or puddles of rainwater on land to drink. When it comes to reproduction, eggs are laid under the sand by female banded sea kraits.

    Photo by Matt Berger, CC BY 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons

    Venom

    Banded sea kraits are highly venomous. They inject venom through their fangs, and itis 10 times more potent than a rattlesnake’s! This comes in handy when it’s time to hunt. A banded sea krait may hide among coral crevices and wait to strike a passing eel. Its venom works quickly to paralyze the prey. 

    Don’t be alarmed – humans are rarely bitten by these kraits, as they have a very docile and non-confrontational nature. Some people, mostly fishermen hauling up nets, have been bitten in the past (symptoms include seizures, muscle paralysis, and respiratory failure). 

    Life Cycle

    Aside from their other land-based activities, female banded sea kraits come ashore to lay eggs. They may lay between 5 – 20 eggs, which then hatch in about 4 months. Babies emerge fully capable of surviving the ocean environment and appear as miniature versions of the adult banded sea krait. They will hunt smaller prey until they grow larger enough to take on eels. Banded sea kraits are estimated to live for 20 years in the wild.

    Take a look at some of their activities in action: 

    And if you’re wondering how a sea krait can swallow an eel whole, watch this video:

    From well-recognized animals like the humpback whale and dolphin to the lesser known banded sea krait, the ocean is a haven rich in biodiversity.

    Swimming away for now,
    Joely


    Joely Hart is a wildlife enthusiast writing to inspire curiosity about Earth’s creatures. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in creative writing from the University of Central Florida and has a special interest in obscure, lesser-known species.


    Sources and Further Reading:
    https://earthsky.org/earth/lifeform-of-the-week-banded-sea-krait-is-a-two-headed-swimming-snake/
    https://animaldiversity.org/accounts/Laticauda_colubrina
    https://oceana.org/marine-life/banded-sea-krait/
    https://www.dovemed.com/diseases-conditions/common-yellow-lipped-sea-krait-bite

    Featured Creature: Gila Monster

    What creature has a venomous bite and is uniquely adapted to survive harsh desert terrain?

    The Gila monster!

    Image by Josh Olander CC BY 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons

    Be not afraid! The Gila monster is not a monster at all, but rather a unique lizard with special adaptations. This reptile is native to North America’s Southwest region including Arizona, Utah, Nevada, and Northwest Mexico. It is so named because of its discovery by herpetologist and paleontologist, Edward Drinkerin, in the Gila River basin.

    The Gila monster is a lizard of substantial size, weighing about 1.5 – 3 pounds and clocking in at over 1 foot long. Males are characterized by their larger heads and tapering tails, while females have smaller heads and thicker tails. Its black and orange skin is easily identifiable and comes in two patterns – banded and reticulated. The banded and reticulated Gila monsters are recognized as two distinct subspecies.

    Reticulate Gila Monster (Image by Jeff Servoss, Public domain via Wikimedia Commons)

    Desert Dweller

    This creature is suited for hot, arid environments like the Sonoran and Mojave deserts, where tough skin is needed for a tough landscape. The Gila monster’s beaded skin is created by osteoderms, small bumps of bone beneath its thick skin, that armor the lizard against predators and the harsh terrain. 

    When desert temperatures soar over 105 degrees Fahrenheit (or 40.5 degrees C), even the Gila monster needs shelter from the sun. Like all reptiles, the Gila monster is cold-blooded and cannot regulate its body temperature on its own. So when it gets too hot, the monster needs to retreat to a shady place to cool down – a burrow. Gila monsters are equipped with long claws to dig burrows in the sand. These lizards spend 95% of their time underground to avoid scorching heat and will often sleep during the day to hunt at night.

    Image from Unspash by David Clode

    Diverse Diet

    Gila monsters prey on insects, birds, small mammals, and frogs. They especially have a preference for eggs and will unearth turtle eggs or raid bird nests. Gila monsters use their forked tongue to process scents and track prey. These carnivorous lizards will climb cacti to devour the eggs of a bird’s nest or even stalk a mouse to its burrow in search of young offspring. In harsh environments, sustenance is difficult to come by so when it gets the chance, the Gila monster can eat 35% of its weight in food. Any unused calories are stored as fat in its tail.

    When hunting live prey, it subdues its victim by secreting venom through grooves in its teeth. Venom glands are based in the lower jaw and, unlike snakes that strike and inject venom in seconds, Gila monsters must bite and hold or gnaw their prey to release their venom. They have a very strong bite and can clamp on for over 10 minutes.

    While the bite of a Gila monster is painful, it is not deadly to humans. Gila monster venom is most similar to that of the Western diamondback rattlesnake, but the amount of venom released into the wound is much lower. Symptoms from a Gila monster bite include extreme burning pain, dizziness, vomiting, fainting and low blood pressure. Because of their solitary and secretive nature, Gila monster bites are very rare and most cases are from improper handling of these creatures. 

    Hatchlings

    When it comes time to reproduce, female Gila monsters lay 3-20 eggs in their burrows during July. The incubation period for Gila monster eggs can be as long as a human pregnancy, about 9 months. This is unusual as most reptiles incubate their eggs for just 1-2 months. The reason for such a long incubation period is thought to be due to overwintering. 

    Overwintering is a survival method where hatchlings emerge from their eggs, but not their nest. Gila monster hatchlings stay in their burrow, waiting for weeks to months, for temperatures to rise and food sources to increase. But how can they survive for months without food? Gila monsters are born with fatty tissue in their tails that permits them to forgo consumption. Additionally, they will eat the nutrient-dense yolk from their egg which provides substantial calories.

    Baby monsters are just about 5 inches long and look like a miniature version of an adult. When conditions are right, they will leave their burrow to hunt for insects and begin their solitary life in their desert habitat.

    Photo by Michael Wifall from Tucson, USA, CC BY-SA 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons

    Cultural Significance

    The Navajo revere the Gila monster as a strong and sacred figure. The Gila monster is often called the first medicine man and had healing and divining powers. Now, the Gila monster is Utah’s official state reptile and represents Utah’s connection to both its Indigenous culture and wildlife. 

    Despite the recognition, Gila monsters are listed as ‘Near Threatened’ by the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN). There is an estimated population of several thousand left in the wild. Major threats include habitat loss from increased development and illegal poaching for the pet trade.

    Venom of Value

    The Gila monster’s venom has been a point of interest in the scientific community. While there is no antivenom for bites, there is hope to utilize its venom for medical use. Scientists discovered that a specific hormone within the Gila monster’s venom can alter the way cells process sugar – a potential cure for diabetes. By isolating this hormone, researchers were able to replicate it synthetically. After years of testing, a new drug to help with Type 2 diabetes was released in 2005 under the name Byetta – all thanks to the existence of the Gila monster.

    Even the most unlikely organisms can have a great impact on humanity, which is one of the reasons why it is so important to preserve biodiversity. “Monsters”, allies, or wonders – you be the judge. 

    Signing off for now,
    Joely


    Joely Hart is a wildlife enthusiast writing to inspire curiosity about Earth’s creatures. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in creative writing from the University of Central Florida and has a special interest in obscure, lesser-known species.


    Sources and Further Reading:
    https://www.aboutanimals.com/reptile/gila-monster/
    https://blog.kachinahouse.com/the-lizard-in-native-american-culture/
    https://www.livescience.com/65093-gila-monsters-photos.html
    https://lazoo.org/explore-your-zoo/our-animals/reptiles/gila-monster/
    https://www.nhm.ac.uk/discover/the-monster-whose-bite-saves-lives.html
    https://kids.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/frym.2019.00017

    Featured Creature: Aardvark

    What unique animal could be a cross between a rabbit, a pig, an opossum, and an anteater?

    The aardvark!

    Photo by Kelly Abram from iNaturalist

    Meet the aardvark – a one-of-a-kind mammal native only to sub-Saharan Africa.

    The aardvark has an unusual hodge-podge mix of features including rabbit-like ears, a pig-like snout, an opossum-like tail, and a long, sticky anteater-like tongue. This creature has large and formidable claws used for digging and defense. Weighing in at 115 – 180 pounds, the aardvark is much heftier than it looks. 

    Aardvarks inhabit the savannas, arid grasslands, and bushlands of sub-Saharan Africa where there is plenty of their favorite prey, ants and termites. They are solitary and do not socialize with others unless for mating or raising young. They live for about 18 years in the wild and approximately 25 years in captivity.

    The aardvark is famous for being the first noun in the English dictionary. The animal goes by many names including Cape anteater and ant bear, but its colloquial moniker, aardvark, is Afrikaans for “earth pig”.

    Photo by Louise Joubert from Wikimedia Commons

    Odd Relatives

    Although the aardvark is an eater of ants, it is not an anteater. Understandably, the comparison comes from its similar appearance and nearly identical diet to the anteater, which leads people to assume they are the same animal. However, the aardvark is its own species entirely, and in fact, it is more closely related to elephants than to anteaters. 

    Unique Diet

    Aardvarks are insectivores that eat ants and termites. They use their keen sense of smell to locate ant nests and termite mounds over great distances. Aardvarks have the highest number of olfactory turbinate bones of any mammal on the planet. An aardvark has about 9 -11 of these specialized bones which help support the olfactory bulb in the brain, where smells are processed. This larger-than-average olfactory system allows the aardvark to track such tiny creatures like ants and termites from far away. They have been observed swinging their heads back and forth close to the ground, much like a metal detector, to pick up a scent. 

    Once an aardvark locates a termite mound, it uses its claws to break open the cement-hard structure. Its tongue, coated in sticky saliva, slurps up the exposed insects in seconds. The highly adapted tongue of an aardvark can be up to 1 foot long. Over the course of a night, a single aardvark eats over 45,000 termites. Amazingly, all of this is done without chewing. 

    While aardvarks are classified as insectivores, they make one exception in their diet for a very unique fruit, the aardvark cucumber. This African melon looks similar to a cantaloupe but is grown completely underground. Aardvarks easily dig up the fruit and eat its watery, seed-filled interior. Once the fruit is digested, the seeds are dispersed by the aardvarks that cover their dung in dirt, effectively planting these seeds in the soil with a natural fertilizer. This symbiotic relationship helps propagate the aardvark cucumber, whose existence is entirely dependent upon the aardvark.

    Photo by Nick Helme from Wikimedia Commons

    Cultural Significance

    The aardvark is regarded as a symbol of resilience in some African cultures due to its unrelenting bravery in tearing down termite mounds. The aardvark has very thick skin which helps avoid injury from hundreds of termite and ant bites. Because of their nocturnal habits and solitary nature, aardvarks are not a common sight during the day. It is said that anyone who is lucky enough to see one is blessed. 

    Earth Engineer

    Aardvarks are adept earth-movers known to create specialized burrows to live in. These burrows provide shelter away from the sun and from predators. Its powerful claws are specially adapted to move massive amounts of dirt in minutes, which helps the aardvark excavate multiple chambers within the den.  

    Some burrows can be up to 10 feet deep and over 20 feet long. There are multiple entrances to the same burrow so the aardvark has a chance to escape if a predator poses a threat. Aardvarks have been observed to be very cautious creatures and practice an unusual ritual before exiting their abode. The aardvark stands at the edge of its burrow and uses its excellent sense of smell to detect any nearby predators. It listens for danger and emerges slowly. The aardvark then jumps a few times, pauses, and heads out for the night. Because aardvarks are primarily nocturnal, they don’t have much need for vivid sight and are colorblind. Their long ears and nose do the seeing for them. 

    The physiology of these soil architects may strike some as strange, but it serves a purpose. The odd, arched silhouette of the aardvark is caused by its hind legs being longer than its front, which gives them a stronger stance when digging. This adaptation, combined with their formidable claws and muscular forelimbs, allows the aardvark to dig a hole 2-feet deep in just 30 seconds – much faster than a human with a shovel.

    Photo by Louise Jobert from Wikimedia Commons

    Ecological Importance

    When aardvarks have depleted most of their territory’s termite mounds or ant nests, they must move on to new hunting grounds. Their abandoned burrows don’t stay empty for long and are occupied by a variety of species. Hyenas, wilddogs, warthogs, civets, and porcupines make their homes in aardvark burrows. The aardvark has an incredible impact on its environment by sculpting the very landscape itself and providing shelter for other creatures.

    If you want to learn more about how aardvark burrows support other animals, check out this article documenting the one of the first observations of predators and prey cohabitating in the same burrow.

    Burrowing away now,
    Joely


    Joely Hart is a wildlife enthusiast writing to inspire curiosity about Earth’s creatures. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in creative writing from the University of Central Florida and has a special interest in obscure, lesser-known species.


    Sources and Further Reading:
    https://www.miamiherald.com/news/nation-world/world/article274890346.html
    https://www.thoughtco.com/10-facts-about-aardvarks-4129429
    https://a-z-animals.com/animals/aardvark/
    https://animalia.bio/aardvark#facts
    https://www.britannica.com/animal/aardvark
    https://carnegiemnh.org/a-is-for-aardvark/
    https://nationalmuseumpublications.co.za/aardvarks-orycteropus-afer-and-their-symbolism-in-african-culture/

    Featured Creature: Northern Cardinal

    What instantly recognizable songbird holds seven state titles and has the crown to prove it?

    The Northern Cardinal!

    Image by Jack Bulmer on Pixabay

    The iconic red plumage of the Northern Cardinal is a staple of backyard gardens across the Eastern United States and Mexico, and is a rare example of a species thriving amidst the expansion of the built environment. While Cardinalis cardinalis is a marker of springtime in New England, these non-migratory birds make permanent homes in open woodlands, thickets, and backyards, their striking red feathers bringing a welcome burst of color to the white backdrop of northern winters. 

    When March rolls around, starting the cardinal breeding season, you’ll begin to hear the mating calls of female birds. Some of the most vocal songbirds around, the Northern Cardinal has a wide variety of chirps, whistles, calls, and songs – even duets unique to mated pairs –  that serve a range of purposes. Their vocal acrobatics and flashy appearance have made them a favorite among birders and state governments alike. The Northern Cardinal is the state bird of Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, North Carolina, Ohio, Virginia, and West Virginia – the nation’s most popular choice with 7 state titles.

    Hard to miss

    Cardinals were originally named for the male bird’s resemblance to the bright red robes and caps of the cardinals of the Roman Catholic Church. In 1983, the “Northern” qualifier was added to differentiate the bird from its Southern cousins, including species like the Yellow Cardinal. Male Northern Cardinals possess those iconic red feathers, while the female is less flamboyant: brown in color with a reddish tint that is most noticeable while in flight. The male’s vibrancy may be useful to attract a mate, but the more neutral brown of the female helps to camouflage the nest during the incubation of eggs and subsequent brooding of chicks. This results in a natural division of parenting duties.

    Image by Arron Doucett on Unsplash

    An eventful mating season

    Mating calls announce the start of nesting season in early March, and the cardinals’ prolific musical repertoire can be heard through late August or September. Northern cardinals select one mate for the extent of the breeding season and divide up the parenting responsibilities. With the red of the males easily spotted by predators, only the females sit on the nest. The males are resigned to foraging, allowed back to the nest only when a chirp from the female signals the coast is clear. 

    Cardinal chicks feed primarily on nutrient-rich insects until they leave the nest 10 days after hatching. After the chicks fledge, or grow their flight feathers, the parents continue to feed the young birds for another month or more, transitioning them to a granivorous diet consisting of seeds and grain – easily shelled by their conical, orange beaks – with the occasional berry or insect. Around June, the cardinal parents are free to start their next brood. Northern cardinals often raise two rounds of chicks, ranging from 1-3 eggs per nest for a total of 3-5 eggs per season. Territories are fiercely defended by males, who are often seen attacking their own reflection in windows and mirrors. You can’t be too careful!

    When the mating season winds down in late summer, it is not uncommon to spot the occasional bald cardinal, but don’t worry, the birds aren’t sick! Cardinals usually replace their crest feathers gradually throughout the summer, but sometimes they’re all molted at once, exposing their dark skin. The effect is only temporary, with their notable crest growing back in a matter of weeks.

    Image by Ryan Pagois (Eagan, MN)

    A well-adapted species

    While most species around the world are confronting immense challenges and population declines as a result of urbanization and global warming, the range and population of Northern Cardinals is actually increasing. The growth of suburbs has increased their nesting habitat, as the birds favor the thick branches of bushes and shrubs, common in woodland edges and backyard gardens. Their expansion has been aided by the presence of birdfeeders, providing cardinals with an easy food source in urban areas that give them an advantage over most native bird species. (Sunflower seeds are a cardinal’s preferred snack, for anyone looking to attract these beautiful birds.)

    Cardinals may be more protected in urban areas with an absence of larger predators, but they still play a role in their local ecosystems. They serve as seed-dispersers as they forage for food, and can become a meal for the occasional predator. Domestic cats and dogs do pose a threat to them, as do hawks and owls, while small snakes, squirrels, chipmunks, and blue jays tend to go after cardinal eggs. However, cardinals have proved exceptionally adaptable in the age of human expansion. Their range has crept northward to Maine and southern Canada in the past 100 years as temperatures increase, with Northern Cardinals now numbering around 130 million. 

    While not a species of concern, may we continue to pay attention to and take inspiration from the Northern Cardinal, a proven adapter to the Anthropocene and a gentle backyard reminder of the beautiful sights and sounds of the natural world.

    With a spring in my step,
    Ryan


    Ryan Pagois is a climate advocate and systems thinker serving as an Associate Director at Built Environment Plus, helping to drive sustainable building solutions in MA. He is passionate about urban ecology, carbon balance, and rewilding cities. He is excited to pursue a Masters of Ecological Design at the Conway School starting this fall, to explore how low-impact urban development can be our greatest climate solution and community resilience tool. He grew up in Minnesota and studied environmental policy and international relations at Boston University.


    Sources and Further Reading:
    https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Northern_Cardinal/lifehistory#conservation
    https://www.audubon.org/field-guide/bird/northern-cardinal
    https://www.birdsandblooms.com/birding/state-birds-facts/
    http://www.biokids.umich.edu/critters/Cardinalis_cardinalis/
    https://www.audubon.org/news/10-fun-facts-about-northern-cardinal

    Featured Creature: Cat

    What mammal makes a mysterious sound that scientists can’t figure out, can jump straight up to a height eight times their body length, and loves us when we love them?

    Felis catus, the mostly tame, sometimes feral, house cat!

    Oly (aka Olyneuropathy) the Tabby
    Photo by Maya Dutta

    Cats domesticated us humans around 7500 BCE, once we began growing grain – and we needed someone to control the annoying mice that ate it.  Cats found this to be a pretty good deal and the feeling was mutual.  The relationship worked so well that Felis catus became one of the top ten most populous mammals on Earth, with approximately 700 million of them today. 

    By the way, if you want to sound cool when there’s a group of them around, you may refer to the numerous felines as a clowder or glaring of cats (as in, “Look, everyone – there’s a clowder of cats!”).

    A cat eating a fish under a chair, a mural in an Egyptian tomb 
    dating to the 15th century BC
    (Photo: Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons)

    Not all is rosy in mondo catus, sadly.  They are so adaptable, brought to all continents except Antarctica (mostly by humans in boats), that cats are among the most invasive of species.  They sometimes wind up in places free of natural predators, and their proliferation is fed by eating billions of birds, mammals, and reptiles, even causing an occasional extinction. (Then again, who are we Homo sapiens to pass judgment on other “invasive” species?)

    Yet, undeterred by dark sides, people around the world are crazy about their cats.  We will go to great lengths to make them happy.  See, for example, this Kickstarter Shru Cat Companion crowdfunding campaign: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1046165765/egg-the-intelligent-cat-companion (scroll down, watch the video, and try to contain your excitement).  

    The cat-toy inventor asked for a $15,000 investment, but cat lovers showed their love by sending Shru $170,779 for an exotic cat toy that does . . . well, I’ll let you figure that one out.  In the meanwhile thousands of non-profits run crowdfunders to conduct activities like feeding children and turning deserts green again, among many other urgent things – and their average take is only $9,237.  Such oddly-placed power of cat fervor is depressingly impressive (though it’s not the cats’ fault).  

    But I digress.

    Cats are indeed remarkable animals.  They can jump to heights over eight times their own body length (that would be almost five stories high for a six-foot human), always land on their feet, and display properties of both solids and liquids.  That’s right, given a definition of a liquid as a substance that conforms to the shape of a container, cats fill that bill to a T (or a Q or a Z).

    Photo by FOX from Pexels

    Cats have more vertebrae than most mammals, and their intervertebral discs are elastic and springy. So cats can contort into an amazing variety of liquid-esque positions.  And even more importantly, those spinal discs alternately expand and compress as the animal runs, which conserves energy and provides extra propulsion for speeds of up to 30 miles per hour (or 48 km/h).

    Although cat behavioral and psychological scientists are a few years behind their canine counterparts, it is lately becoming scientifically apparent how intelligent and emotionally responsive cats are (of course, cat owners have known this forever). They just show it differently from dogs or other animals:

    Yes! Cats do love their humans, even if sometimes they have a funny way of showing it. In fact, they form strong attachments to their owners and display their emotions very similar to humans. 

    Just like people, cats can show their love through understanding and concern for others. In some instances, they have been known to risk their lives for their owners, protecting them from dangers like poisonous snakes or other hazards. Cats can also detect when their owner is upset and will often console them or, in some cases, even lick away their tears! Some cases exist where an owner left or passed away, and the cat exhibited signs of distress like sitting and meowing at the owner’s bedroom door, going into hiding, even refusing to eat. But perhaps some of the most incredible evidence that cats do get attached to their owners is in the cases where cats have traveled hundreds upon hundreds of miles to places they’ve never been in order to find their person.

    https://www.azpetvet.com/cat-owner-love/
    Photo by Sam Lion from Pexels

    How they find their distant people, nobody knows. You may enjoy some more long-distance cat-travel stories at https://www.pets4homes.co.uk/pet-advice/10-amazing-cats-that-travelled-vast-distances-to-be-with-their-owners.html.

    Finally, there’s purring, a sound that science still can’t quite figure out. It turns out that cats purr for all kinds of reasons other than that they’re happy to be on our laps. This video tells the story:

    Intriguing cat facts and tales could go on forever, but for now let’s travel onward together on the road to purr-fect purr-ful bliss,

    Adam


    P.S. If you have access to Netflix, there’s a fascinating video entitled “Inside the Mind of a Cat.”  You can train cats to do all kinds of amazing tricks when you know how.  Note that they’re training you as much as you’re training them!


    adam areday 2017

    Adam Sacks is a Co-Founder and former Executive Director of Biodiversity for a Livable Climate (Bio4Climate). He has had careers in education, holistic medicine, computer technology, politics, and advocacy. A climate activist for the past 25 years, he has been studying and writing about Holistic Management since 2007. His primary goal is the regeneration of biodiversity and a livable planet.


    Sources and Further Reading:
    https://www.nationalgeographic.com/animals/mammals/facts/domestic-cat
    https://www.pets4homes.co.uk/pet-advice/10-amazing-cats-that-travelled-vast-distances-to-be-with-their-owners.html
    https://www.cantonrep.com/news/20191121/missing-cat-travels-1200-miles-to-be-reunited-with-its-owner-after-5-years
    https://www.azpetvet.com/cat-owner-love/
    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cat
    https://www.dailypaws.com/cats-kittens/health-care/how-high-can-cats-jump

    Featured Creature: Pigeon

    What often-overlooked creature is an expert navigator, an impressive postman, and a natural mammographer?

    A pigeon!

    Image by Burtamus on Pixabay

    While the term “pigeon” actually refers to over 300 species of bird of the family Columbidae, the animal is generally characterized by its plump body, head-bobbing strut, and gentle disposition. That, and the fact that they seem to be everywhere. Pigeons have adapted to the majority of habitats on earth, with the most impressive being the urban environment. 

    Rock pigeons, also known as city pigeons or common pigeons, were first introduced to North America in the 1600s, from Europe. Since then, they have come to inhabit nearly every city across the Americas.

    Historical records in Mesopotamia and ancient Egypt suggest that pigeons were first domesticated around 5,000 years ago, making it nearly impossible to discern their original, wild range. Today, wild pigeons make homes of rocky cliffs or in caves, while their feral cousins nest on building ledges. 

    With some of the most powerful flight muscles in the animal kingdom, pigeons are impressive fliers with the ability to take off almost vertically and avoid any in-flight obstacle. This enables them to dwell in even the busiest urban environments.

    Image by Chait Goli on Pexels

    Lovebirds!

    Pigeons are monogamous, mating for life, and typically raise 1 to 2 chicks at a time. Their mating season is May through August in the Northern hemisphere, and co-parenting is key to the nestlings’ success. Dad usually takes the day shift while Mom takes the night watch, alternating incubation duties so the other can hunt for food or hit the McDonald’s drive thru. 

    In the first four or five days after hatching, the chicks are fed “pigeon milk,” a unique secretion of a portion of the parents’ digestive system called the “crop.” This milky liquid is rich in nutrients and closely resembles that of mammals’ milk. Crop milk production is a hormonal response that begins a few days before the eggs hatch. When the chicks are around 10 days old, the milk-producing cells return to their normal dormancy and hatchlings can ease into a normal pigeon diet. (This process isn’t unique to pigeons; flamingoes and some species of penguin also produce a milk-like substance for their hatchlings.) Four to six weeks later, pigeon chicks are semi-independent, freeing the mated pair to start another brood. A couple of common pigeons can raise up to 12 chicks (six pairs of eggs) in a single mating season. 

    Image by Hkyu Wu on Unsplash

    Both Beauty and Brains

    Due to both natural selection and human breeding, there are now over 300 species of pigeon cooing across the globe. They are all descendents of the humble rock pigeon.

    Charles Darwin, a pigeon breeder, marveled at the beauty of evolution at work in the range of appearance and genetic expression in pigeons, calling it an analogy of what happens in nature. Many species of wild pigeon have developed flamboyant colors and crests that rival that of anyone’s favorite bird. Check out the photos below for some beautiful displays!

    Crested Pigeon (Image by schneeknirschen on Pixabay)
    Pigeon in Budapest (Image by Charles on Pixabay)
    Doves are biologically identical to common pigeons 
    (Image by StockSnap on Pixabay)

    Pigeons are more than just looks, though. They’ve managed to take on a variety of human tasks with ease, often outperforming their human and technological counterparts. Pigeons have been carrying mail for centuries, back to ancient Roman times, and can deliver mail at speeds of up to 90 miles per hour (their average flight speed being 50-60 mph). They were even employed as military spies, with 95% of pigeons completing their missions and returning photographs of enemy operations to their side in WWI. The key to their impressive performance is their ability to tap into earth’s magnetic field.

    They can also read the position of the sun, and have a keen sense of sight and smell. Their acute eyesight also makes them, unexpectedly, great mammographers. Pigeons can diagnose breast cancer in human patients with an accuracy on par with human radiologists reviewing the same cases.

    So maybe the next time you hear someone refer to pigeons as “sky rats,” take a moment to share about some of the brilliance behind those red eyes.

    Humbly,
    Ryan


    Ryan Pagois is a climate advocate and systems thinker serving as an Associate Director at Built Environment Plus, helping to drive sustainable building solutions in MA. He is passionate about urban ecology, carbon balance, and rewilding cities. He is excited to pursue a Masters of Ecological Design at the Conway School starting this fall, to explore how low-impact urban development can be our greatest climate solution and community resilience tool. He grew up in Minnesota and studied environmental policy and international relations at Boston University.


    Sources and Further Reading:
    https://www.britannica.com/animal/pigeon
    https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Rock_Pigeon/overview#
    https://www.nationalgeographic.com/animals/article/pigeons-diversity-doves-photographs
    https://www.ovocontrol.com/pigeon-facts-figures
    https://www.ovocontrol.com/news-blog/2018/01/how-fast-do-pigeons-reproduce
    https://www.spymuseum.org/exhibition-experiences/about-the-collection/collection-highlights/pigeon-camera/
    https://www.northumberlandnationalpark.org.uk/pigeon-perfect/
    https://www.universityofcalifornia.edu/news/pigeons-can-distinguish-cancerous-breast-tissue-normal
    https://www.audubon.org/field-guide/bird/rock-pigeon
    https://www.audubon.org/news/pigeon-milk-nutritious-treat-chicks
    https://www.nytimes.com/2013/02/05/science/pigeons-a-darwin-favorite-carry-new-clues-to-evolution.html