The large lampposts, 30 feet tall and a foot in diameter, had been completely covered with moths. Some of the moths had left as the day brightened, but several hundred remained, moribund.
In chaparral environments, manzanitas grow so densely that they form shrub thickets. The mature bark of manzanitas peels naturally, leaving a deep red surface as smooth as marble.
It was about 20 feet above the ground, in the crown of a crabapple tree. Approximately five sheets of comb were fused together, assembled so that one main branch and several smaller branches pierced them.
A large damselfly hung placidly from a forsythia branch in my back yard, so I approached within three feet to get a good view. On the next day it had moved to a spirea, and once again it was tolerant of my close approach.
Blackbrush in the Granite Mountains in California reach ages exceeding 1,250 years. Blackbrush deter herbivores such as mule deer and desert bighorn with thorns and prickly branches, but it also has chemical defenses, and foremost among these are tannins.
Rabbit Valley is the last exit on I70 as you drive west through Colorado. It is in the McInnis Canyons National Recreation Area and it has several places to camp, so I decided to visit. But as I drove from I70 to Knowles Overlook on the Colorado River I was disappointed to see miles and miles of cheatgrass.
I first saw a photo of a sumac flea beetle posted by Steve Mlodinow in Flickr, a public platform to post photos and enjoy the works of others. I looked for the beetles, but had no luck until Steve told me exactly where to find them. I have now formed a search image and have learned to look first for evidence of herbivory—holes in the leaves and gooey clumps of feces.
While camping on the White River Plateau last weekend I was pleasantly surprised to find that a few of the aspen clones had turned from deep green to bright yellow. It occurred to me that the wonders of fall foliage raise yet a more mechanistic wonder: Why do aspen and other deciduous trees change color in fall?
Driving in to the Ponderosa Campground in Soap Creek, I was surprised to see a field of white flowers arranged in towers that seemed to mimic the dramatic spires in the cliffs on the other side of Blue Mesa Reservoir. I pulled over to enjoy the view and to capture it digitally. I walked among the flowers briefly, and I noticed many pollinators but no herbivores—nothing was eating the leaves or stems.
