This green anole is the dominant male at the south end of the house. I see him often, but was surprised recently to find him in this condition. He was shedding, which I think is an annual event. He pulled at the paper-like skin with his mouth, and when it came free, he promptly ate it. Sometimes it can take a while to complete the process, but when I saw him again half an hour later, he was all done.
Flexibility is important in nature, as this mourning gecko demonstrates while drinking from a bird of paradise flower. If I tried that, I’d be laid up for a week.
I like cows, but they can be nervous creatures. Escapees from the local dairy farm are quite common and not a big deal (unless I stop to consider the very large bulls sharing the same fields these cows escape from so easily). The cows rarely get into trouble, in part because they have to travel more than a mile before reaching the main road.
On this day, I was walking down the dirt road to the coast when this cow galloped around a corner, a quarter-mile distant, headed in my direction. She’d clearly been panicked by something and I knew that when she saw me, she might panic again.
The road widened just ahead so I eased up to that spot and hugged the fence line, hoping the cow would carry on past without becoming alarmed. She loped along, up on the bank on the far side of the road. Then, about 100 yards from me, she stopped, ears up, eyes staring. Clearly, I’d been spotted. I didn’t look her way, turning around and pretending I hadn’t noticed. The last thing I wanted was for her to head back the way she came with me walking along behind, stoking her fears.
Luckily, her existing anxiousness got the better of her and she thundered past along the bank, which is when I took this photo. What generally happens is that, eventually, someone from the farm sees the cow or cows on the road and rounds them up. The cows are inevitably relieved to be back in their pasture and all is well – until the next time.
This is a pair of banana stalk flies (Telostylinus lineolatus) mating on a …wait minute, that’s not a banana stalk. In fact it’s the spadix of an Anthurium schlechtendalii or Pheasant’s tail.
I had to hunt around a bit to identify the insect, but found useful information at whatsthatbug.com. One thing I liked was where it stated, “With enormous eyes, this tiny, tropical, stilt-legged fly maintains a confident distance from human approach, by swiftly running around the blind-side of whatever surface it is on.” This made me laugh because that was EXACTLY what this pair did when I tried to photograph them.
Heavy rain in the Alenuihaha Channel, between Maui and the Big Island, rumbles towards shore. Those cows are going to get a dousing.
Anoles and geckos are common everywhere around here. Where geckos have a softer, often goofy look to them, the larger anoles seem to me much more ‘reptilian.’ I don’t picture geckos as descendants of dinosaurs, but anoles? Definitely.
This photo is what I mean, both in the anole’s appearance and its pose, echoing a mighty dinosaur clumping through prehistoric forest.
While Hawaiian beet webworm moth (spoladea recurvalis) sounds quite local, this moth is actually widespread in warm regions of the U.S. and other parts of the world. Also widespread is the damage its larvae does to chard, spinach, weeds in genera Chenopodium and Amaranthus, and of course beets.
The cabbage butterfly (Pieris rapae) is an introduced pest that feeds on cultivated and wild members of the cabbage family. A larger member of this family, also called the cabbage or cabbage white butterfly (Pieris brassicae) isn’t currently present in Hawaii.
Graham's Island 