Last night I was posting an observation (https://www.inaturalist.org/observations/277568783) of a squash sprout on iNat and ended up going down a Wikipedia rabbit hole learning about different species of squash. I learned that most of the squash that I eat (in USA) is Cucurbita pepo (sooo many varieties). Butternut and Calabaza are Cucurbita moschata. Kabocha is Cucurbita maxima. I get the Calabaza and Kabocha from Asian grocery stores. And I learned that those giant pumpkins that they have competitions for the heaviest are also C. maxima.
I mentioned here once that nothing useful is thrown away here, it all finds a way to the marketplace.
Some time ago at the used bookseller at the main mercado, I picked up a lovely but faded book called āSeashellsā by Sandy Carlson. It is in English, which is uncommon to find there, but what caught my eye was the cover photo of all the shells. The last two days we had a power outage, and so I finally read through it whereas previously I had just peeked at the photos.
I learned by doing so that a tiny Transennella clam broods a small number of offspring inside the safety of its shell. (The photo in the book that shows this is astounding and made even more amazing when I saw exactly how small these are via iNaturalist Observations.)
I love that song, and I havenāt thought of it in years. I like the version where the little oneās refrain is āIām crowded. Roll over.ā The punchline is that when you get to the end, and the only bear left in the bed is the little one, he then says either āIām lonelyā ā¦or āGood night!ā
This week, I learned that Pied-billed Grebes (Podilymbus podiceps) can float and swim with just the upper part of their heads above the water. (All About Birds calls them āpart bird, part submarineā.) They do this by adjusting their buoyancy via the amount of air trapped in their feathers.
I also learned that their songs are hugely out of proportion to the amount of bird. You hear this loud, deep whooping call ā¦and then this fuzzy little plush toy paddles by.
Gee, thanks. Now Iām going to have āTen in the bedā stuck in my head all day long. (In my version the little one says āAlone at lastā at the end.)
If only Earworms were a recognized taxon on iNaturalistā¦
The slimey compound from okra, fenugreek, and tamarind can be used to remove microplastics from water, and are actually more effective than the currently used synthetic compound.
I just came from the most fascinating presentation on biodiversity. It turns out that the giant tortoises of Aldabra and the Galapagos are not cases of island gigantism at all. On the contrary, they are relicts ā there used to be equally giant tortoises on the continents, which became extinct when humans (or early hominids) arrived.
Sounds spectrographs (e.g. Merlin sound ID) usually show frequencies up to 8 or 10 kHz, but some humans have the ability to hear up to 20 kHz. Most bird song, and indeed most sounds humans care about are less than 10 kHz - usually much less. For example, middle C on a piano is 440 Hz and the highest note on a piano is just above 4 kHz.
So what do humans hear above 10 kHz? Some crickets make sound in the 10-20 kHz range, and some rodent squeak distress calls are audible there too. The hiss of water or air from a pinprick hole can be in this range, but itās not clear humans would need to evolve to hear that. So far, I think the most likely sound in this range is the whine of mosquito wings - maybe we evolved to swat mosquitoes?
I learned recently that there are cockroaches in this area other than the Periplaneta and Blattella that we all detest. I saw a cockroach on the wall and, as usual, took it to the sink to scald it. It turned out to be a Parcoblatta, a wood roach, which does not infest our food and is here because I live in the woods. I observed another one, recognized it, and am leaving it on the wall.
The cockeyed squid Histioteuthis heteropsis has one eye much bigger than the other. It swims with the big one facing upwards to spot predators and the small one with a special filter pointing downwards to spot bioluminescent prey. (On BBC Radio 4 but I have filled it out slightly from www.mbari.org.
This week while reading about flying squirrels I learned that a dead tree is called a āsnagā and happily whilst following article-to article links landed on this one about the University of Kansas.
From Dr. Jill Pruetzās new book āApes on the Edge,ā I learned that despite Chimpanzees long being assumed to be hydrophobic, those observed in her studies at Fongoli in Senegal often sit and cool themselves in pools of water during the hot and humid season, even showing preferences of certain pools over others.
Oh, yes, thank you for the word origin. I think I am confused, though. Wouldnāt both those scenarios be considered dead (or dying) trees? (Are they called something else if they are dead but fully upright?)
