Caesar's Mushroom

First off: wow! Busy summer. It was busy in a very positive way, but that did lead to two things 1) fewer outdoor excursions and 2) less time to post about them. But I have not abandoned this blog (for entirely selfish reasons; it's a lot of fun and strokes the old ego a bit). Luckily for me, it rained a lot in August/September and thus the mushrooming improved quite a bit. As such, I've accumulated a backlog of images and information to share here.

Astute observers with epic memory will note the absence of a "species feature" title and tag to this post, and there's a good reason for that. What reason? The mushrooms I'm talking about might not even be Caesar's mushrooms (Amanita caesarea) at all. The problem is, A. caesarea is notoriously difficult to distinguish from varieties of A. muscaria in this part of the world - specifically var. formosa and var flavivolvata. It's one of nature's cruelest traps - those varieties are both more similar to Caesar's mushroom and more dangerous than their European counterparts. On either side of the pond, A. caesarea is a choice edible. European varieties of A. muscaria, better known as fly agaric, reportedly cause hallucinations, and are sought after for this purpose. However, the U.S. version will just get you violently ill. It's like a ripped off BBC show that way. Michael Kuo (splitter!) has the North American version of Caear's mushroom as A. Jacksonii, a distinction that further confuses things. Kuo is probably technically correct, but for simplicity's sake I will be discussing the species as Amanita caesarea.

This is the nicest specimen of the alleged A. caesarea I have found. It was a lonely giant of its kind in Rock Creek Park earlier this month.

Before proceeding, I must include another mushroom-eating disclaimer. Don't use my blog as your primary resource. Don't eat mushrooms based on my advice. If you use my blog as inspiration to go learn enough to eat wild mushrooms safely, more power to you.

Now for some good news. I believe the similarities between A. caesarea and A. muscaria var. formosa (I can't speak directly to var. flavivolvata, because I've found no specimens of this) are overblown. Mushroom writers are rightly concerned about an amateur making a mistake based upon their descriptions and getting sick or worse. Some of the differences are in superficial or non-persistent characteristics, which are not usually the best aid to getting an accurate mushroom ID. They are both members of the genus that includes species with such common names as "death cap," "destroying angel" and "fool's mushroom." Amanitas account for 95% of mushroom-related fatalities (thanks Wikipedia). All of this leads to understandable caution. (For more on this general topic, see this entry from a fellow local mushroom blogger.) Fortunately for mycophagists, the deadly ones are much, much easier to distinguish from our hero. This leaves a knowledgeable field mycologist with only the risk of illness - and not much risk of that with enough experience.

Amanita muscaria var. formosa, as found in Watkins Regional Park some time ago. Pictures are not the most reliable way to distinguish mushroom species, but taking a close look at these first two photos is a good start.

How these two species are alike:

Both of these mushrooms exhibit classic Amanita features: the spore print is white, they have both universal and partial veils which persist as volvae (please don't confuse this with vulvae) and rings on mature specimens, their gills are free from the stem.  They are also similar in size, habitat, and season. Both are mycorrhizal with hardwoods and with pines. Both have yellow-to-orange coloring on their caps and white flesh. A key to successful mycology, however, is to learn which things are different and isolate them. Of course, one doesn't want to do so to the exclusion of these basic features, but with experience noting the Amanita characteristics will become second nature, and allow one to focus on some other details.

How these two species are different (the key features):

I think the simplest difference to detect is that A. caesarea has yellow gills while A. muscaria has white gills. This isn't a perfect test, because yellow gills can be so pale as to appear white, and white gills can appear yellow beneath a yellow cap in poor lighting. Another helpful difference can be found around their respective volvae. A. caesarea has a much larger, more persistent volva. A. muscaria tends to have shaggy "skin" near the base of the stem where it meets the volva. Caesar's mushroom has a yellowish stem while fly agaric has a white stem (again, the yellow can fade). Finally, A. muscaria not only has, but is famous for, white warts on top of its cap.  A. caesarea lacks these warts. Any one of the four preceding features is not a sure bet - but all four? Solid. I suppose it is remotely possible to find a specimen of A. muscaria whose warts have fallen off, that has an abnormally large volva and lacks a shaggy stem base, and which appears yellowish in the gills and stem. But doesn't that seem like a long shot to you?

Here's a closeup of the volva of Caesar's mushroom.

This shot was meant to demonstrate the yellow stem and gills - but it also inadvertently
demonstrates how it can be hard to tell if the gills are yellow in the field.

 

Luckily I have this old photo - here you can see A. muscaria var. formosa's  white gills, white stem, and smaller volva. You might be able to pick out the shaggy bits at the stembase as well.

Additional apparent differences:

These are why I think the chance of mistaking one of these mushrooms for the other is slim for careful and experienced mycologists. I will admit the possibility that I'm just not experienced enough. Maybe I'm misidentifying everything, and the range of variability within each species is broader than I think. This is why I've yet to eat any Caesar's mushrooms.

The bulk of these differences are in the caps. Look at the photos of the two species.  Don't they seem quite different? A. caesarea is distinctly orange*, shiny, very striated at the margin, lacking in warts, and possessed of a distinct umbo (that's the bump in the middle). by contrast, A. muscaria var. formosa is pale yellow with slight striations at most, many warts, and no umbo. Using these features for IDing a mushroom is a lot like performing a physical task with bad form - positive results are possible, but you're not putting yourself in the best position for achievement. All of those features are variable within each species and can be changed by the environment, given time. And yet, every time I have collected a specimen of either of these species, it has gone this way: I have noted at first glance that it superficially resembles one species or the other. I have taken notes, brought the specimen home, and obtained a white spore print. Upon examining the four key features above I have corroborated my field guess. This has held true for four or five ocurrences of each species. So what I'm saying is that in theory this group of features is not to be used as a definitive identifier, but experimentally they hold up as a reasonable predictor and starting point.

*since these mushrooms are named for a certain Caesar who purportedly had a taste for them, have I discovered the origins of the name "Orange Julius"?



In addition to the links above (mushroomexpert.com, wikipedia, roger's mushrooms, and the free dictionary) I used the following texts as sources: The National Audubon Society's Field Guide to Mushrooms: North America, Simon and Schuster's Guide to Mushrooms, 100 Edible Mushrooms (Michael Kuo), and Field Guid to Wild Mushrooms of Pennsylvania and the Mid-Atlantic (Bill Russell).

Hike from the New Digs

Most folks reading this already know, but I moved a few weeks ago. It wasn't far, so exploring the neighborhood is really more a matter of seeing the same neighborhood from a slightly different perspective. Still, it's been interesting seeing nature from this new vantage point. I have an altered bike route to work, the grounds of the new apartment are landscaped differently, and the surrounding area is a little more residential. I'm still close to most of the same parks and green spaces, and yet the slight shift in perspective seems to have shaken up my mindset enough that different details stand out.

I noticed this last weekend when taking my first long hike from the new base of operations. It wound through some of the same areas of Rock Creek Park I have blogged about before. I returned up the same section of East-West Highway I used to live on. Yet this hike was different than any previous ones in terms of which living things stood out to me. The next day I took an out-and-back bike ride along Sligo Creek Trail - a ride which allowed me to add about ten new species to my Naturalism on Speed challenge. It's been quite a while since I added more than two or three after a single ride.

A flowering plant along Portal Drive was the first new thing to draw my attention. Its leaves were shaped like a child's drawing of a Christmas tree, and its small flowers ranged from pale violet to white. It had a row of spines along the stem, and these occurred in pairs opposite one another. These spines were also present on the underside of the leaf. (Wow! Typing this paragraph has reminded me just how much plant life review I need if I want to appear knowledgeable. I just don't have the biological vocabulary to be precise.) I've no idea what this plant might be, so if anyone can ID it from the photo below please leave a comment.

Mystery Plant #1.

The next "new" thing I noticed is probably best explained by a picture. It's something I see all the time, but last weekend was the first time I thought it might make a nice photo.

This is a reminder that oyster mushrooms are appetizing to more than just humans. Also, it's hard to tell from this photo but that was one enormous slug.

Mystery plants were a theme of the day. Number two was a ground-covering plant lining much of the trail through the park. I see this plant often but until lat weekend my mind filed it as part of the background, and therefore not an item of interest. It had a long whiplike flower and large leaves relative to the overall plant size. Once I noticed it I saw that it was quite prevalent throughout the northern section of the park. Again, if you have any clue as to this one's identity from the photo below please let me know!

Mystery Plant #2

It was while climbing THE HILL on the way back that I collected my one big mushroom find of the day. This was a large patch of Chlorophyllum molybdites, sometimes known as the green-spored parasol since *dramatic pause* it looks like a parasol mushroom and has green spores. This mushroom is an old friend and among the first handful I learned to reliably identify. The "new" of this encounter was that I hadn't before considered the narrow strip of grass between the main lanes of East-West Highway and the access road as fertile ground for a mushroom search. Looking back, though, these aren't the first mushrooms I've seen there.

Franklin didn't care one bit about the mushrooms, but it sure looks like he's proud of something here, doesn't it?

This brings me to my final mystery plant (well, there was a mystery tree as well but I didn't take any pictures). This plant was enormous for a non-woody plant. It stood easily eight feet high, and likely closer to ten. Its leaves were each larger than my head. I can't really think of any identifying features other than its size, so I'll just show you. If you know what this thing is, you know what to do.

The leaves of Mystery Plant #3

 

 

 

Mystery Plant #3 in all its monstrous glory.

Coming down the home stretch of the hike, I started seeing a plant I'm familiar with but had never really noticed in Silver Spring: pokeweed. This stuff has berries that start as white flowers which turn green and then a deep, nasty-staining purple. I'm confident enough that the species is American pokeweed (Phytolacca americana) that I counted it in my little challenge when I saw more of it the next day.

Pokeweed in the green (and thus not yet fatal to garments) stage.

I guess the takeaway from last week's experience is that however familiar I think I am with the natural environment, there's always something there I hadn't noticed before. Whether my move had anything to do with my shift in perception is immaterial - what matters is that the diversity of life is great enough to continually provide new surprises.

Species Feature #8, Train Wrecker

The train wrecker is a fascinating mushroom, technically an edible but not particularly palatable. I'll get the story of its common name out of the way quickly rather than keep you in suspense. This mushroom has reportedly decayed railroad ties to such a degree that accidents have resulted. These stories, however, may be apocryphal - after all, a number of other organisms were undoubtedly at work on each of the ties in question. Mature specimens can be quite large and showy, and their brown scales, jagged gills and inrolled cap margins can give them a rustic appearance. The stems, too, contribute to this rugged feeling with their often shaggy rings and reddish-brown scales. The size makes this mushroom a tempting kitchen experiment, but it has a tough, leathery texture which prevents it from being truly appetizing.

An immature specimen harvested from a decaying stump. Note the gills' attachment to the stem, and their already ragged nature. The scales on the stem are also readily apparent.

Neolentinus lepideus Quick Facts

Common Name(s): train wrecker, scaly lentinus

Taxonomic Breakdown:

• Kingdom - Fungi
• Subkingdom - Dikarya
• Phylum - Basidiomycota
• Subphylum - Agaricomycotina
• Class - Agaricomycetes
• Order - Gloeophyllales
• Family -Gloeophyllaceae
• Genus - Neolentinus
• Species - lepideus

The genus of this mushroom used to be Lentinus, but as with many fungi these days this has recently changed.

Range:  This mushroom is common throughout North America and Europe. It can be found growing on decaying coniferous wood and occasionally on hardwood as well. It has even been reported in coal mines.

A mature specimen, with a bit of substrate (the thing it grows on and consumes) brought along for good measure.

Here is a closeup of the gills and cap margin in a mature specimen. This one was found deep in Rock Creek Park alongside a picnic table.

It is not recommended to eat this mushroom if collected growing from treated wood - unpleasant substances like the chemicals used for weatherproofing can be taken up in the fruiting body as it grows. I personally don't recommend eating this at all due to its general mediocrity. In Michal Kuo's 100 Edible Mushrooms, Darvin DeShazer quotes another mycophagist, Robert Mackler, thusly: "If it's not at least as good as a portobello, why eat it?" I don't agree fully with this fourth-hand thought (the answer is "because it's cool," or maybe "to find out what it tastes like," etc.). However, having tasted this species I am inclined to agree in this instance. Of course, it isn't recommended to eat ANY wild mushroom at all without extensive knowledge and experience... so keep that in mind as well. If you see a mushroom that looks like the above, the reward side of the risk-reward balance is very small.

May Mushrooms

It's May, and for mushroomers that means you're either riding high from a successful morel season or, like me, disappointed once again by your failure to find morels (not that I've been at this long, or tried more than a couple of times). A lot of mushroom enthusiasts are just now waiting for the showier mushrooms of summer and fall to appear. I caution you, though: if this is your thing, don't write off May! Quite a lot of good edibles grow around this time, and it's when you really start to see some variety out there. From this point until about November in this region, you can more or less count on finding some mushrooms of at least middling interest if it's at all wet outside.

So, what's to be found in May? Well, I'll start you off with some species I encountered on the stroll that inspired this post.

I initially thought that the mushrooms depicted above and to the right were wine caps (Stropharia rugosoannulata) based upon their superficial appearance, the season, and their growing on mulch. When I returned I discovered I was mistaken: wine caps have a distinctive ring which seemed to be lacking, though I do note what appears to be a ring zone near the top of the stem. Wine caps also have white gills which turn purplish black - never the brown color seen here. On top of all that, these don't really look anything like any images I can find of wine caps, after all. The question of course becomes, "well, what are they then?" The answer, to my chagrin, remains "I don't know."

I began and remain quite confident that these (above photo only) mushrooms are scaly inky caps (Coprinopsus variegata). The coprinoid mushrooms are possessed of gills which deliquesce as they mature. Most are edible, although the alcohol inky, so named because it is known to contain a substance which inhibits your body's ability to metabolize alcohol, can make you sick if combined with a couple of beers. I have seen this particular spot produce these mushrooms in spring for three consecutive years.

These two photos show varying stages of the mica cap (Coprinellus micaceus), another coprinoid mushroom that's pretty common around here. This one is easiest to distinguish by the tiny granules on the cap (you might have to expand the picture at the left to see them clearly). However, these have a habit of washing or blowing away quite early in the mushroom's life, so you may need to rely on characteristics. Honestly, I haven't had much trouble getting a fairly positive ID on the little guys most of the time regardless. If you plan to eat them, though, just be sure you DON'T have alcohol inkys instead.

Of course, we couldn't forget our old friend dryad's saddle, could we? These things might get boring fast, and might wind up with the record for most appearances in this blog.

At left are some pictures of a few unidentified mushrooms from the later part of my little stroll. I didn't bother collecting these for later analysis, or taking detailed notes, but I coudn't resist a few quick photos. The first specimen could be a small fawn mushroom, or a large fairy-ring mushroom, or something completely different, like an agrocybe. That's a convoluted way of saying I can't tell from my photograph, because it only offers a limited view of one specimen. I won't bother with my wanton speculation on the identity of the second.

What I've shown you thus far hardly exhausts the list of mushrooms one might find in May. I myself have encountered mower's mushrooms (Panaeolus foenisecii), fairy ring mushrooms (Marasmius oreades), orange dog stinkhorn (Mutinus elegans), and crown-tipped coral (Clavicorona pyxidata), among others. The stinkhorn is one of the foulest living things on the planet. It gets is name because it looks kind of like a dog's penis. It has a slimy, oily secretion which attracts flies and smells and looks like feces. When cut, it smells like I imagine Oscar the Grouch would smell.

I will close with an anecdote related to the above picture. Those tasty morsels are oyster mushrooms which became part of last night's dinner. I was biking home from work, which is what I'm usually doing at 5:30 or so on a Thursday afternoon, when I noticed some mushrooms hanging from a stump right at the edge of the path. Maybe a hundred yards later, my mind said "waaaaaaaaaaiiiiiit a minute! Those looked like oysters - and in good shape!" I brought my bike around and pulled off to the side. Sure enough, oysters they were. I didn't have any wax paper, so I put them in the messenger bag I carried and crossed my fingers against their destruction. Think that meal was satisfying? It most certainly was.

Species Feature #5, Mayapple

The mayapple is nearly ubiquitous spring ground cover in the woods of the Mid-Atlantic. I have noticed it so much this year that it seemed to be just screaming for a feature in this blog. The leaf and the flower are both pretty distinctive, so this is an easy species to identify. The fruit is a green oval that develops from the flower site. They are usually found in large groups, with individual plants liked by rhizomes (connecting root structures). Those rhizomes have been used for chemotherapy and as a topical agent, but eating them (or the fruit) is not recommended. These parts of the plant are poisonous, but only in large quantities.

A sizable cluster of mayapple found in Watkins Regional Park last weekend.

Podophyllum peltatum Quick Facts


Common Name(s): mayapple, hogapple, Indian apple, mayflower, umbrella plant, wild mandrake

Taxonomic Breakdown:

• Kingdom - Plantae
• *Division - Magnoliophyta (aka Angiospermae)
• Class - Magnoliopsida
• Order - Ranunculales
• Family - Berberidaceae
• Genus - Podophyllum
• Species - peltatum

*For some reason that doesn't make much sense to me, biologists scoff at the term "phylum" for plants. Instead, between Kingdom and Class they split plants into "Divisions." This division is better known as "flowering plants" which are a subset of "seed-bearing plants (Spermatophytes). Why we don't just refer to these levels as phyla and subphyla is beyond me, but hey, I don't make the rules.

Range: Throughout the eastern US as far west as Minnesota and Texas, and North into Canada in places.

Some younger specimens near Rock Creek Park.

Here is an interesting read on the medicinal history and folklore of the mayapple. This site has a wonderful detail photo of the flower, as well as some good information. As the "mandrake" this plant makes an appearance in Shakespeare (see the quote at the top of the first link).

The flower of Podophyllum peltatum.

For variety's sake, a photo from below of mayapple growing by the roadside.

Bike Commuting

The first thing one needs for a bike commute. This happens to be where mine starts.

Commuting via bicycle has been a drastic game-changer in my adult life. There are of course real naturalist's reasons for doing so: cutting your emissions, sticking it to Big Oil, getting out into nature, and so forth. Those were some of my reasons for doing it. But really, my reasons were primarily a lot more selfish. It saves money in the long run, it forced me to get into better shape, and it's just plain fun. The benefits surprised me though - I feel better. I'm less often tired. I'm more alert, and hence better at my job. It makes me crave a better diet (well, most of the time). Finally, if you live here you know how much driving around DC sucks. You know how, no matter one's intentions, most of us pick up horrendous driving habits almost as a set of survival skills and thus contribute to the problem. Where I'm going with this is: I hate my commute so much less. Bike commuting has become a great stress-reducer.

I'm not telling you to (yes I am) start commuting (do it) by bicycle. What I am (are you cycling yet) doing is pointing out that if you live in the DC suburbs it is probably an option for you (get on that bike) even if you think it's not. Take my commute for instance. It begins near Downtown Silver Spring and ends, about ten miles later, in Rockville near Randolph Road. Before my friend Dustin told me about it, I wouldn't have thought there was a straightforward bike route between these two places. Yet, almost all of my ride is on the paved Rock Creek Trail. The Maryland 'burbs are full of these trails: The Millenium Trail, The Matthew Henson Trail, The Capital Crescent Trail and Georgetown Branch Trail (which is more or less complete on both ends, despite mapped appearances), are just a few. Virtually all of the roads in and around Potomac are extremely bike-friendly. If that's not enough, organizations like Bike Arlington and WABA will get you started.

OK, all jokes aside I'm not here to instruct anyone on how to live their lives. If biking isn't for you then it just isn't. But, if you're reading this and have ever considered it, I urge you to consider further, and I hope that I have helped make your decision easier. The rest of what I want to share today is simply a series of photos chronicling one day (today) of biking to work. I hope they will be enticing.

This photo doesn't do it justice, but this is what my coworker and I have come to refer to as THE HILL. In the morning this is a pleasant boost of speed; in the evening it's a last hurdle to clear before showering.

Here the path disappears under Connecticut Avenue. Believe me, this is better than the alternative.

...like this truck full of shit.

As with any form of transportation, however, there are just some days when something completely unexpected holds you up.

Here I'm nearing the end of the bike path (well, for me). Occasionally I take the road you can see here - Beach Drive - instead. It's more dangerous but faster... and traffic here generally knows what's up with the bicycles.

This is the only horrendous intersection (well, aside from the one just outside my apartment) that I must deal with. It's not so bad, though - one just has to wait for the light.

I will finish with some uncaptioned photos from the return trip. Enjoy!

Species Feature #4, Oyster Mushroom

Since everything so far in these capsules has been an animal, I decided it was time for a change. Since mycology is a pretty major focus of my naturalist activities, it's only appropriate to highlight some fungi for you. The oyster mushroom (Pleurotus ostreatus) is very common, very delicious, grows gregariously, can be found year round, and is relatively easy to identify. In other words, they are fungal ambrosia. One thing I should throw out there as a technicality: there are several similar species which, for all intents and purposes, are the same. However, we have to trust our scientists, and if they tell me that a specimen I have is really Pleurotus populinus I won't argue. But, unless there's a practical difference I don't much care. I'm glad I'm aware of this, but I also won't split hairs. If it's close enough to be referred to as a "species complex" differentiating the species from one another is probably beyond me at this point anyway.

This mushroom is quite variable in appearance, but this I think is a good general photo. Classically their growth pattern is a little different.

Pleurotus ostreatus Quick Facts

Common Name(s): oyster mushroom

Taxonomic Breakdown:

• Kingdom -Fungi
• Phylum - Basidiomycota
• Class - Agaricomycetes
• Order - Agaricales
• Family - Tricholomataceae
• Genus - Pleurotus
• Species - ostreatus

Range: Worldwide (with some exceptions) in temperate and subtropical woods and forests

Here it is found glowing atop a log instead of hanging from the side of a tree or stump. Different configuration, slightly different coloring, same mushroom.

If I tried to describe the mushroom's features (cap, stem, gills, growth habits, substrates, etc) I would only be copying the work of others - and there are only so many ways to say "stem absent or lateral" and so forth. Instead, I will link you to some quality sites.

It's a bold move to call your site Mushroom Expert. It may even seem pretentious from anyone other than a doctor of mycology. Here's the thing: it isn't. Michael Kuo, who runs the site, absolutely knows what he's talking about. He's an English teacher, so he's also knows how to talk about it. Anyway, here's Kuo's writeup of oyster mushrooms.

Tom Volk is another expert, albeit one I'm less familiar with.
Mycoweb is another excellent site.
And another, which points out some of the other similar and hard to separate species.

There is a species (or maybe many species) of beetle which REALLY loves this mushroom. I have only found it referred to as a "small black beetle" but it has been remarked upon in relation to this mushroom quite a bit.

Here I am preparing for the harvest. I'm not sure what that look on my face is. Photo credit to Laurel.

The two clusters of oyster mushroom pictured above were collected from two places I've already discussed in detail on this blog: Watkins Regional Park (the specimens hanging from above) and Rock Creek Park (the specimens growing up from the log).

Another Trip to Rock Creek Park

Rock Creek Park will probably become a running theme in this blog; I live down the street, and will soon be moving even closer. It's home to most of the region's wildlife species, so even though it isn't the cleanest of parks it is well worth a naturalist's time to visit.  Since I've already shared a bit of information about the park, I'll get right to the pictures. This walk took place in June of 2010.

The first sighting on this walk was this mushroom, which I believe to be a youngish specimen of Neolentinus lepideus (train-wrecker). It was growing on the root system of a stump, but dry air seems to have gotten to it before it could mature into the showy specimens one sometimes encounters.

Copinus variegatus (scaly inky-cap) was also hanging out on the property. The inky-caps get their name because their gills liquesce into a black goo over time. If you find them (and succeed in positively IDing them, of course) before this happens, they are edible.

"Sensitive Amphibians," eh? I picture a couple of frogs in marriage counseling. "Fred, you really don't make me feel loved." "But Margaret, who needs love for breeding?"

This mushroom is one that I've encountered dozens of times over the last two years. Its identity continues to confound me. It might not even always be the same mushroom. The features are so generic but so consistently the same to be maddening. I haven't managed to get a single spore print from this sneaky bugger, but it is large an omnipresent around here. If any mycologists who know stumble upon this and laugh at me, please let me know!

Fuligo septica (dog vomit slime mold, or scrambled egg slime). Everything about this is gross, but it's interesting. Slime molds are actually protozoa that present similarly to fungi. The names all convey its nastiness, don't they? 'Dog vomit,' 'egg slime,' 'septic'.. I don't think it's edible, and if it is I don't want to know.

I'm not at all sure what this is, apart from a gorgeous insect. Apologies for the blurry photo, but it was the best I could come up with after tailing this guy for 15 minutes or so. It was pretty sizable - perhaps 2-3 inches long. I've still got some holes in my guide collection, so I made only a cursory attempt to identify this beauty after I got home. I'm hoping over time to have many fewer "cool thing that I can't name for you" entries here.

Identifying this Calopteryx maculata (ebony jewelwing) taught me the actual difference between a damselfly and a dragonfly. About.com is actually useful for once, so just read that!

I don't know what species of beetle this is infesting my oyster mushrooms, but they seem to pop up quite often. I can only find reference to them so far as "a small black beetle" that likes this mushroom. Go figure. (Actually, don't. Instead, keep reading my blog!)

The oyster mushroom above had another - and more startling - neighbor. This Nerodia sipedon (northern water snake) caught me unawares while I was harvesting. It didn't seem to mind the company much, as it only gave me a wary eye and didn't threaten or try to escape.

I love woodpeckers (no penis jokes, please). This fine specimen of Dryocopus pileatus (pileated woodpecker) was seen with a second - ostensibly its mate - just at the exit to the park. This sighting was probably the highlight of the walk for yours truly.

The residential area I made my return trip through was positively awash in Asclepius syriaca (common milkweed). It's pretty, but it is high in allergens. This stuff, among other things, really nails me every summer here.

This is what I meant by pretty - very showy flowers and greenery.

I have to say that while this hike might not have presented me with the strange and unusual, it certainly offered a variety of observable life. For a guy like me (read: "nerd," "naturalist," or "outdoorsman," whichever spin you prefer) any day that includes photo ops of life spanning four kingdoms is a mark in the win column.