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| Latticed Stinkhorn |
A small fragment of orange peeked out from the wood chips and caught my attention as I walked along the Sunset Parkway yesterday. A little further investigation turned up several more-developed baskets of Latticed Stinkhorn, which I first spotted last August. Maybe fog-drip gives the mycelium just the right amount of moisture to fruit. I was surprised that our very wet winter didn't produce the bumper crop of mushrooms I expected on Mt. Tam. I guess even fungi can have too much of a good thing.
As I looked again at my wildflower photos from Table Mountain and Carrizo Plain I was struck by how commonplace it seemed to find hills and fields covered with flowers, as if it didn't take driving several hours in an automobile to find them. I'm biking up to Mt. Tam later this morning, where I'm sure the bloom will be much less prolific. It won't be a disappointment, though. It'll be a reminder and reminiscence of the appreciation I felt for the awesome spectacle I experienced farther afield.
Back here on the home front -- on my compost bin, that is -- I was surprised to find a garden snail stomach-footing across the lid. It must have hitched a ride in the lovely but invasive Oxalis pes-caprae that I'd pulled from the south-facing slope of nearby Grandview Park (the west and north sides are hopelessly infested), but the trash and compost had already been picked up that morning. Somehow during all the hubbub the snail made it to the outside of the can. (FWIW, my neighbor, who's retired from managing the California Garden at Strybing Arboretum, had invited me to help with the weeding at Grandview, under the auspices of the Parks Department. I don't go around pulling weeds wherever I feel like it!)
Another bit of nature I've seen on my walk recently. There's a house on 16th Avenue that's chock-full of flowering plants that seems like a bee and hummingbird playground. But what I also noticed as I passed by the other day was a fluttering dark butterfly. I watched its acrobatics until it landed -- on a huge patch of pipevine that I'd never noticed before.
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| Helix aspersa (now Cornu aspersum), dispersing. |
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| Pipevine Swallowtail In Residence |
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