resprout

resprout

We spent the afternoon on our burned-out lot, and I did an assessment of the many trees we’d planted, to see what was worth salvaging. The fruit trees are sprouting from their root stock, which means the graft is dead and who knows what kind of fruit we’ll get from them. The leaves on the mulberry suckers look remarkably like fig leaves, and a little research tells me that yes, mulberries can be grafted onto fig rootstock, so that’s what I’m seeing. Invasives are taking over. The usual suspects like mustard and spurge are thick on the hill, but trees and shrubs too—there are now acacias sprouting in the cracks around the pool.

The hours spent looking closely at the changes grieved me in a way that my previous visits have not. So many days and years of labour on that land, undone.

Phidippus johnsoni

Phidippus johnsoni

This little cutie has been hanging out on my desk for a few days. I’m not 100% certain of the ID but it’s my best guess. The red-backed jumping spider is one of the largest* and most commonly encountered jumping spiders in California. In 2012, NASA sent one into space!

*Largest = still really tiny!

Feron kingi

Feron kingi

Feron kingi, commonly known as the red cone gall wasp, is a member of the Cynipidae family.

The adult female lays her eggs within the leaves of several white oak species, including the valley oak (Quercus lobata). Once the egg hatches, the larva begins feeding on the leaf tissue, triggering the plant to form a hard, protective structure—a small red cone about 5 mm tall. This gall benefits the insect, providing it with additional plant tissue to consume. Inside the gall, the larva pupates and eventually matures into a parthenogenetic female adult before emerging from the tip of the cone. That’s right — there are no male gall wasps.

Epipactis gigantea

Epipactis gigantea

My docent buddies Rick and Tom showed me a secret (off-trail) trove of stream orchids in the mountains. The hike included bushwhacking through poison oak, and getting wet in the creek. Some blood was shed (by the guys, not me). But we were rewarded with the best stand of Epipactic gigantea I’ve ever seen. Thanks Rick and Tom, it was awesome.

mystery nest

tapianest

We found a lovely soft nest on the ground, mostly made of oak catkins and cobwebs, with decorations of feather and lichen. It actually looked like two conjoined nests, but I assume it had been teased out by an interested critter, before or after it fell. Who built it? I hope the eggs hatched safely.

mud wasps

muddaubers

We had a dinner disaster last night, when the old stove’s exhaust vent suddenly rained a flood of debris down into the skillet of beans and asparagus. Dinner went to the compost, and I remained grumpy for a while. But today I took the cover off the vent and banged the pipe to try to completely clear it. A lot of what emerged was mud wasp nests.

Mud daubers fill their nests with spiders to feed their larvae. Unlike some wasp species that fill a nest cell with one or two large spiders, mud daubers pack up to two dozen smaller spiders into each cell.

To capture a spider, the wasp grabs it and delivers a sting. The venom from the sting doesn’t kill the spider, but it paralyzes and preserves it, allowing it to be transported and stored in the nest cell for later consumption by the larvae. The mud dauber typically lays its egg on the prey before sealing the nest cell with a mud cap. Afterward, the wasp moves on to construct another cell or nest. The young larvae survive the winter inside the nest.

I’ve now sealed up the vent with foil (the exhaust fan is non-operational) so hopefully there’ll be no more dinner mishaps from that direction.