Ach.
Must post something to push that dreadful poem further down the page where fewer people may read it...
The Sequoia has almost completed weaponizing its pollen. Many other Sequoias here in town are glowing that strange yellow-green color characteristic of coniferous trees in the throes of Spring. One of these days when the air dries out, the winds will drag clouds of pollen out of those armies of pollen cones, depositing it wherever chaos' whimsy fancies. Sometimes when the pollen/air ratio is near its climax, puddles of water masquerade as yellow lakes of pollen. Visible drifts of ochre dust tumble by on the breeze. Pollen impregnates the air, clings to surfaces, and makes my father generally miserable with sneezes and various other allergic reactions.
It's not like that in the tropics. Competition for resources is so intense in places where the growing season lasts all year, most trees cannot afford to waste their energy flinging pollen all over the place in the hope that one out of every ten thousand grains will reach a receptive flower (or cone). So the plants have devised an ingenous strategy: they get all those strange mobile things with legs and wings to work for them. Monkeys, birds, bats, and innumerable types of insects all carry out their chores dutifully, translocating pollen from one flower to another, collecting their payment in the form of nectar and the occassional flower part. The trees don't seem to mind in the least. Avoid eating those leaves, though... Instead of building arsenals of pollen, tropical trees have opted instead for chemical weapons factories in their bodies, enough to convince most herbivores they're not worth the pain, hallucinations, etc.
While we're on the subject of trees, I climbed one yesterday. For the first time, I donned a harness, tied myself to a rope, and "prusik'ed" (it's a climbing term) my way up a big old Douglas-fir. We drank ginger tea at the top and watched Olympia happen from our perch ninety or so feet above the ground. It was fabulous. I can't wait to gaze over the canopy of the tropical rainforest from a vantage point in some monster emergent tree, nestled amongst the bromeliads, orchids, mosses, aroids, and who knows what else. Ah... Yes, the future looks bright as tropical sunrays, filtering through leaves.
My camera arrived. Photos will follow shortly. In the mean time, visit Mycoblastus and read all about Vinson's latest escapades. He's quite an interesting fellow, that Vinson.
Must post something to push that dreadful poem further down the page where fewer people may read it...
The Sequoia has almost completed weaponizing its pollen. Many other Sequoias here in town are glowing that strange yellow-green color characteristic of coniferous trees in the throes of Spring. One of these days when the air dries out, the winds will drag clouds of pollen out of those armies of pollen cones, depositing it wherever chaos' whimsy fancies. Sometimes when the pollen/air ratio is near its climax, puddles of water masquerade as yellow lakes of pollen. Visible drifts of ochre dust tumble by on the breeze. Pollen impregnates the air, clings to surfaces, and makes my father generally miserable with sneezes and various other allergic reactions.
It's not like that in the tropics. Competition for resources is so intense in places where the growing season lasts all year, most trees cannot afford to waste their energy flinging pollen all over the place in the hope that one out of every ten thousand grains will reach a receptive flower (or cone). So the plants have devised an ingenous strategy: they get all those strange mobile things with legs and wings to work for them. Monkeys, birds, bats, and innumerable types of insects all carry out their chores dutifully, translocating pollen from one flower to another, collecting their payment in the form of nectar and the occassional flower part. The trees don't seem to mind in the least. Avoid eating those leaves, though... Instead of building arsenals of pollen, tropical trees have opted instead for chemical weapons factories in their bodies, enough to convince most herbivores they're not worth the pain, hallucinations, etc.
While we're on the subject of trees, I climbed one yesterday. For the first time, I donned a harness, tied myself to a rope, and "prusik'ed" (it's a climbing term) my way up a big old Douglas-fir. We drank ginger tea at the top and watched Olympia happen from our perch ninety or so feet above the ground. It was fabulous. I can't wait to gaze over the canopy of the tropical rainforest from a vantage point in some monster emergent tree, nestled amongst the bromeliads, orchids, mosses, aroids, and who knows what else. Ah... Yes, the future looks bright as tropical sunrays, filtering through leaves.
My camera arrived. Photos will follow shortly. In the mean time, visit Mycoblastus and read all about Vinson's latest escapades. He's quite an interesting fellow, that Vinson.
posted by cody @ 11:18 PM
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