3:00 snapshot #1972: Monday

Monday moody blurry selfie.

280 days of Urbpandemonium #28

Who ever suspected that this empty cartridge, from Polaroid SX-70 film, would provide habitat for so many animals. I can see three species here--a single blue mussel, a number of tiny barnacles, but most prevalently a whole mess of slipper shells Crepidula fornicata.

Despite their flattened, uncoiled shells, these animals are snails. They don't glide around all the time like most other snails, instead remaining firmly attached to a substrate like a rock or another mollusk's shell or a piece of obsolete technology. Youngsters can crawl slowly, but after about 2 years of age they settle in, living the quiet life of a coastal suspension feeder.

Perhaps you have noticed the racy scientific name. Often you will encounter this shell stacked up on others of its kind. Most snails have both male and female sex organs, but slipper shells have a different strategy. "If the individual settles alone, it becomes male briefly, passing rapidly on to a female, especially if another animal settles on it to initiate chain formation. Sex change can only occur to the bottom-most male in a stack and takes approximately 60 days, during which the penis regresses and the pouches and glands of the female duct develop. If a juvenile settles on an established stack it develops and may remain as a male for an extended period (up to 6 years), apparently maintained by pheromones released by females lower in the stack (Fretter & Graham, 1981 in MarLIN, 2003)."

3:00 snapshot #1973: Tuesday

280 days of Urbpandemonium #29

It's hard to believe but this little noodle is a full grown Dekay's brown snake Storeria dekayi. These snakes are some of the most numerous in New England, but because of their size, color, and habits, are rarely seen. People who want to see one should find a big log at the edge of the woods or an old piece of plywood in a vacant lot. Brown snakes are likely to be underneath, hunting for slugs, earthworms, spiders, and other small soft prey.

280 days of Urbpandemonium #30

As I scooped up this ragworm (Phylum Annelida, Class Polychaeta, Family Nereidae) in my fingers, I remembered seeing similar worms when I was a child. One particular time one was dragged up onto to the damp sand and poked with a stick. In response the worm everted a pair of fearsome jaws from its head, each bearing a sharp-looking tooth. It turns out those teeth are as hard as human teeth--they're made of a protein matrix studded with ions of the metal zinc.

3:00 snapshot #1974: Wednesday

Using my car as a temporary AAZK office to write some checks.

280 days of Urbpandemonium #31

It's at the point now that if I see a lady beetle--whether it has no spots, 16 spots, or something in the middle--I'm astonished if it isn't the Asian multicolored beetle Harmonia axyridis. In the habitats I explore, those that are strongly impacted by humans, it is by far the most common coccinellid. The variable colors of this species, introduced to control garden pests, give the illusion of biodiversity. The sad truth is that the newcomer is probably outcompeting native lady beetles into a marginal existence if not oblivion.