Have you thought about letting Moss into your life?

Three species together on a boulder in the car park. Nice sporophytes eh.

 I've got my toe in now and I'm hoping you're too British in spirit to slam the door. Choosing moss may sound relatively unexciting, but maybe you've not given it a chance. It's possible I've accosted you on a field trip, forcing a lens into your hand (hold it right up to your eye... no, hold it RIGHT UP TO YOUR EYE...) If so, you may have seen that tiny things, when magnified, can be just as fascinating as things more your own size. What are you, scalist? It's these little things that underpin the ecological running of the world. Pandas are all very well but the planet probably won't collapse without them (I'm not heartless really, I'm just very pro-moss).

Not only is it interesting to see the world from a different perspective for a change, you'll find it's not that difficult to collect a good number of species if you're looking for a nice mark. I've just been for a little trot round campus in the unseasonably warm weather, clutching my camera. I think I've got about 10 species already. With trips to a wood, limestone walls, somewhere watery, etc., you could probably treble that without too much hardship. Different places yield different species - mosses can be used as indicator species. The fieldguide from the British Bryological Society has a list of habitats and the species you tend to find there. 

Some moss looking super twizzly and waiting to unfurl in the rain.

 Of course the problem is more identifying what you've found, rather than finding it, perhaps. This is going to be more of an issue. I want to make a guide to the ones you'll most likely encounter first, but I'm not sure how imminent this will be as other things keep getting in the way. If you do want to do moss, you'll have to want to spend some time at a microscope, jotting down little drawings, and having a go with the (not always so friendly) keys. But Dave and I can find some time to help.

Nice red stems, distinctively curved back leaves - heaps of it literally metres from my desk

Elf cups and other unmushroomy fungi

Emma and I took a walk in the local woods this week, to check out which plants are braving February (there's a class on Monday that will be doing some surveying of them and I wanted to make a guide). There were quite a few species, but none were venturing any flowers yet.

However, a very bright object did catch our eyes - and it wasn't a bit of litter, either. It was the amazing and strange Scarlet elf cup (Sarcoscypha coccinea).

Above is the lone specimen we found, but if you're lucky you'll see lots together. They grow on dead wood. I think something so peculiar-looking should definitely be associated with otherworldly creatures like elves. Their scientific name also alludes to their weirdness: 'sarco' is 'flesh' and 'scypha' means 'cup'. (Coccinea will remind you of the squashed beetle colouring cochineal, and it means 'scarlet'.)

CC image by Ceridwen

You'll notice there isn't a mushroomy gill in sight - so where do their spores come from? Mushroomy-mushrooms use little sticking out structures on their gills called basidia. But most fungi are actually like the lovely Elf cups - they're called 'Ascomycetes' and they produce spores in flask-shape cells called asci. There's a nice understandable page about all this on the Australian National Botanic Gardens website.

The beautifully red upper layer of Elf cups is packed with these vertically arranged asci*, and when the spores are ready they are fired off into the air. I even read that this makes a noise, which sounds a bit mad. (Although, if an elf cup releases spores into a wood and no-one's there, does it make a sound? Etc.) Apparently if you pick the right moment you can blow on their surface and see a puff of spores float away.

So if you've chosen fungi, this is a reminder that you want to include both Ascomycetes and Basidiomycetes in your collection.  And that although mushroomy basidiomycetes might be laying relatively low at this time of year, you might still find some ascomycetes. King Alfred's cakes (Daldinia concentrica) are another easily found example.

(*You can also see asci in lichens - because lichens, of course, are part fungus. It's possible to cut a very thin slice and examine them under the microscope. Counting the number of spores per ascus can help sometimes with identification.)

My new love of seaweed

White Nothe headland (CC Jim Champion)

I had a pleasant week's holiday in Dorset last week. We went looking for fossils on the beach (de rigeur for the 'Jurassic Coast') - and I found the most amazing fossil sea urchin. But also discovered a new interest - seaweed. Yes, you can picture me in an anorak fighting the horizontal rain, stuffing slimy algae into a carrier bag - it's more or less accurate.

It's very interesting embarking on a new group of flora or fauna though. It's interesting how you don't even realise how little you know. I thought 'oh yeah, I know a few seaweeds' - but I don't really. I know as much about seaweeds as a botanist who can distinguish a dandelion from a nettle. But you have to start somewhere. And that's one of the first useful things you can feel your brain doing - noticing that one specimen is different from another, even if you don't know their names.

I soon realised there were a lot of different seaweeds washed up on the beach. And some of them were in a place I'd not thought about before: they were tiny and growing on other seaweeds. I suppose it's like when I first got interested in snails, in that not all UK snails are shaped like the familiar garden snail - some are tall and pointy, some are super tiny, some are even spikey. I like the sensation of a hidden world becoming revealed. Yes, you will become one of the Initiated. (It's surely no worse a use of your brain than knowing all the minutiae of the football league or what the latest technological must-have is, and you could even use your knowledge to help protect the natural world).

Calliblepharis cilliata - how could you not like all those weird eyelashy outgrowths?

Some things, once collected, can be put aside and dealt with at leisure. But seaweed is more needy, as I soon realised, instinctively feeling that leaving it in a plastic carrier bag in a heated house might have led to domestic arguments. So I rinsed it under the tap and improvised some paper to press it between. Some of the specimens survived. But some types decayed because they needed more care (more changes of paper) and I wasn't organised enough to assemble the correct equipment. I don't want you to be in this position, where you make an effort but then it amounts to nothing.

That's one reason why you shouldn't leave all your collecting until the last minute, because it takes time to realise what the best techniques are for dealing with your specimens.

But another reason is that you need some time collecting and observing to start recognising what you've seen already, and to be able to pick out what's new. At first you don't see everything - you can only take in the broad picture, and you'll overlook all sorts of weird and wonderful things. It's that extra stage that can only happen with time really. This is an assigment you can get a good mark on - you just need to give yourself a bit of time to do yourself and it justice. That's my advice.

I bought a new seaweed book. Of course. I should stop spending all my wages on books, but there always seems to be another interesting one to be had. I must realise that owning a book does not equate to knowing or understanding the information in it, though.

My new purchase is 'Seaweeds of Britain and Ireland' (2nd ed.) by Bunker, Brodie, Maggs and Bunker (2017). Keen seaweed student F also has a copy and has apparently been finding it very useful. The photos certainly seem very clear and there's a lot of description and information. I felt a bit overwhelmed thinking about the number of species (the book has over 200 and there are over 600 around the UK - who knew). But they're such beautiful things and I do want to try to recognise a few more than my current paltry efforts. I recommend. You're welcome to come and look at my copy also.

I have been looking at the Seasearch website (the instigators of the book), and if you're keen on diving they run identification courses around the British Isles - the idea being that you can then go out and start recording sea creatures and seaweeds for yourself, or on one of their special survey days. Imagine the fun (if only I could trust myself not to drown).

Endemic snails in Tenerife - you too can find something rather interesting (and not even realise)

Oh to be back in the Tenerife sunshine. Never mind. I guess spring is not far away, and then there will be all sorts of interesting plants and animals to discover in this country. I really hope that you'll be enthused with whatever group you choose, and give yourself enough time to delve into whatever most fires your interest about them, and write about that in your notebook (I hope you find using your notebook in Tenerife has given you some encouragement).

This morning I have been researching which ferns live on the cloud-forested slopes of Anaga (at the north of the island, for those too unfortunate to have been on the fieldtrip). I want to make a guide so perhaps future groups can take quadrats to discover how fern species change along the trail.

I'm getting very drawn in into the world of the fern. Which is a good thing really. And likewise the other day I was inspired to try and identify some empty snail shells I'd spotted on a jaunt to some open ground near the hotel. Here's one of them - it's about the size of a Brown-lipped snail from the UK, but it's got the most amazing ribby sculpture.

I found a list of endemic Tenerifean snails and checking their pictures thought it might be Hemicycla plicaria. (I don't think I've found a list of non-endemic Tenerifean snails. But then again, the vast majority of land snails there are endemic. I guess you don't get a whole lot of genetic interaction between Tenerife and the continent when it comes to snails).

I was pleased enough with this discovery, but then ended up going down a rabbit hole of snail-related information. For one thing, it turns out that this species is really localised and rare - in fact it only lives in the area around Candelaria where we were staying (there's a map here).   It's apparently only within a 10km2 area. And so it gets on the Critically Endangered list of the IUCN.

So that's really amazing isn't it, and goes to show that you never know what you might find. Ironically, when we were about to set foot on the land to have a poke about, a local couple tried to put us off, presumably thinking we would like a nice stroll along the sea front, not a hike over some "waste ground" where they had just allowed their dog to relieve itself. I tried to communicate that we were "looking for animals", but they said there were no animals. How Wrong They Were. We found lizards, geckos, beetles and bugs, birds, - and a critically endangered snail, for goodness sake.

We might not have any endemic snails in the UK. But there are many species you'll never have seen before and will be surprised at. And if you're seeking a different group, who knows what interesting things you might find. Nature doesn't come with massive signposts. You'll definitely find interesting things that other people routinely ignore (to their detriment), and you may even find something very unusual (as this student did).

I hope you get motivated to get stuck in. And please do bring me things, as I'm always interested to see them and will do my best to help you work out how to identify them.

See your specimens afresh using the amazing microscope

Student B and I have spent a very interesting afternoon photographing his wasps and bees using the lovely microscope and its camera. We tried to identify some but I fear my brain is starting to succumb to lack of sunshine - despite taking a walk at lunchtime. We did discover, however, that this amazing creature is one of the Chrysidoidea or Ruby-tailed wasps. There are 31 species in the UK! Who would have thought it. It makes me regret not spending more time searching for insects in the summer.

Look at the iridescence (don't look at the pin, which was a bit of a poor choice, being so enormous compared to the wasp). My boss suggested the vivid metallic colours might be a result of interference. The body is also quite bumpy, which must scatter the light even more and improve the effect? We were wondering why it should be so attractive, when it actually sneaks about parasitising other types of wasp. Who knows.

I haven't got many classes from now until Christmas, so if you want some help with your own samples, or to take some pictures, please do send an email or drop by. A few interesting photos would be great stuck into your notebook and annotated. I'm here until the bitter end, i.e. the week after the end of term.

Scientific names and their derivations

I have been busy over the last few weeks, and I imagine you've been working hard too. However, I seem to have fewer practicals to worry about between now and the end of term. So if you do want to come in to look at your plants or creatures, I can offer you both some time. Just send me an email (or turn up on spec if you prefer to live more on the edge).

I hope you are still managing to find things here and there, even if other assignments are taking precendence at the moment. I think it's good if you can go for a wander somewhere (as we did on the field trip to Lower Woods the other week) because you never know what you might find, and also it's beneficial to periodically relax your brain.

Andrena fulva, CC image by Sarah.

I was having a cup of tea outside the lab the other day and saw a small bee struggling on the ground. It was super furry and had a very orange bum - very striking. I looked it up and I think it was Andrena fulva, the Tawny mining bee. I can't imagine what an adult would be doing out at this time of year - they're more of a spring/early summer species. But it was rather nice.

Today I found something else you might like, a dictionary of scientific names. I've posted links to such things before, but this book is actually less than 100 years old, whatever next (it's not like Latin changes, does it). But this book is very clearly set out and I like it. So I thought I'd look up 'Andrena fulva', as quite often the translations can be quirky - plus it gives one an air of knowlegeability when you can translate a bit of Latin. However, it seems that 'Andrena' actually means 'bee', which is a bit of an unimaginative choice. And 'fulvus' means reddish yellow... you've guessed it, 'tawny'. Never mind. You may have more interesting results with your own species.
A link to the pdf: Dictionary of Word Roots and Combining Forms by Donald J Borrer.

Some field notebooks from last year

Only part of Student T's excellent snail collection.

 I thought you might like to see some of the notebooks that were submitted last year.

They're called "field notebooks" because you're supposed to write in them in the field - so don't be precious about keeping yours all neat and tidy. Obviously you can't help bearing in mind that someone's going to look at it and mark it. But remember it's also there to aid your quest for knowledge. If you develop a habit of scribbling in it every time you pick up a specimen, you won't have to entrust your brain with all the details of where, when and what was about. The information will all be there, ready to help you with identification and labelling.

I admit it, I'm not too good at this habit myself. But it is one to cultivate. My favourite collection last year was Student T's snails. He got 13/15 for his notebook - the marker wrote "Excellent detail and diagrams - good note taking discipline". He found a lot of snails. He got very, very into it (he deserved his exceptional mark of 87% without a doubt). I admit, I found myself with Shell Envy when he brought in species I'd never seen before.

To jolly up your field notes, remember that "a picture paints a thousand words" - take a photo and annotate it. The pages above are from Student H's moss notebook. (She's just been in to collect her mosses and told me all about her ongoing moss-related placement in the Pennines. It sounds Amazing. She already has moss plans for her final year project. This is so gratifying to hear. I do hope some of you will similarly want to take your new skill further).

What's really lovely is if you can sketch a little diagram in the field (the markers love that) to give some similar context - the relative position of your seaweed on the beach, or the distinctive outline of your tree, or the way your mushroom was growing out of some rotten logs. This is detail and information that will be lost once you've spirited your specimen out of its habitat, but relatively easy to show with an annotated photo or diagram.

Another thing you could do is shown below - someone has plotted their finds on an aerial photograph. They've also given some reasons for why they tried the different locations (that they believed they would find different species living in woodlands, grasslands, and places with different types of soil).

Another important use for your notebook is to show the thinking behind your identifications. The writer of the  book below (it's snails again, you'll be thinking I'm obsessed) has carefully included
- the location and habitat
- the date
- a little sketch with measurements and whorl count
- a description of the snail's features
- and a run-through (with key couplet numbers) of a suitable snail key.
They've also got a little photo they've evidently taken through a microscope or lens.
Plus of course, they've recorded their eventual decision on the name of the creature at hand.
This is all very good.

The booklet below was kept by someone collecting spiders. It's quite interesting that they've stuck in a little aide-memoire table that reminds them to note different features like size, eye arrangement, type of web, etc. It's also useful that they mention what the spider was up to when they found it (in an orb web, wrapping up their dinner) - you really will forget this sort of thing unless you write it down in the field. I think maybe the page I've photographed is a bit thin on detail! But maybe it helps you get the idea. Overall they got a first. Considering you can get 15% on the notebook, making a bit of effort here really can make the difference to your overall mark.

Here's another appallingly out-of-focus photo from a more detailed spider notebook (apologies).  Hopefully you can see how a notebook can be both a bit messy and still contain lots of information. There's no need to spend time carefully copying stuff up neatly, or making it all mistake-free. Just record the things you find useful and interesting - the person marking it will recognise your effort.

Finally, below is a similar page from someone who did Hymenoptera (ants, wasps and bees). They've gone even fancier with coloured pencil. You might say, why not take a photo? But often you will find that a drawing is the best way to bring out the details that are important. We're used to seeing amazing photos on the internet and in nature documentaries. But taking them is actually very difficult. With a drawing you can focus attention on particular shapes, colours or patterns. Why faff about trying to photograph the claws on your beetle's tarsi (feet) if you can quickly sketch them? Don't be scared. This isn't the art class and there aren't extra points for... (whatever it is they hand out points for - I still don't really know even after being awarded a few over the years). Just try to make your drawing clear. And annotate it to make it even clearer. The markers will love it, and it'll help you absorb more information about your subject, in what I hope is turning out to be an enjoyable learning experience.