This gold dust day gecko lives in this Pepsi machine and several times a day it emerges from the coin return slot to check out its surroundings. Sometimes it ventures farther afield on the machine.
The gecko seems to be doing fine in this environment. I just hope it’s not down there when someone hits the coin return button.
If I’m ever reincarnated as a ram, this is probably what I’d look like. I already have the nose.
This mango flower beetle wasn’t on a mango flower, but on a basil plant. It wasn’t exactly lost though. A giant mango tree looms over the deck where the basil plant is growing.
Several weeks ago, when the Big Island had a couple of hurricanes in the vicinity, we were inundated with rain. Tired of staying indoors or slogging through mud, I headed down the road a few miles, to the dry side of the island, in the hopes of finding somewhere I could go for a walk.
I stopped at Lapakahi State Park, which holds the remains of an ancient Hawaii fishing village. It was dry and warm, though the trails there were still slick with moisture and closed to the public.
While I soaked up the warmth, I noticed this grasshopper (Schistocerca nitens I think) on a plant. It was hanging onto the stem and, despite my presence, seemed not in any hurry to move. It took me a while to realize there was something odd about it, but eventually I noticed that it was missing one of its hind legs. It’s not the first grasshopper I’ve seen in this condition and I always wonder how it affects them. The hind legs are the ones that launch them, so if they’re missing one do they ping off to one side? Do they end up going in circles? Or are they able to compensate?
I didn’t find out on this day as the grasshopper remained in roughly the same position the whole time I was there. Eventually I gave up watching and headed back into the gloom.
There are a great many deeply meaningful and insightful blogs out there, but this isn’t one of them. Instead, here’s a photo of two beef cattle in a field. The reason I like it is for the stem of dry grass sticking out of the one on the left. I imagine him saying something along the lines of, “You ain’t from around these parts, are you?”
I posted recently (here) about finding the exoskeleton of a praying mantis after it had molted. It’s possible the mantis in this photo is the one that shed that skin, since I saw it in the same vicinity.
This mantis was stationed where a wall meets a ceiling and it was staring straight down that wall at me. I like this photo because I think it captures the mantis’s rather piercing stare.
A couple of days before I took this photo, another mantis, slightly bigger than this one, was perched on a Pepsi machine in the same vicinity. It was watching me as I went back and forth. Eventually, when I paused, it leapt onto my head. I reached up and encouraged it onto my hand, where it paused a moment before scampering up my arm. So I interposed my other hand, which it duly climbed onto. Cue the mantis then scampering up that arm. We did this little dance a few times before I managed to maneuver the mantis onto a deck rail. It perched there a while and then eventually flew off.
I guess I’m in a praying mantis purple patch.
This pair of nene (Hawaiian goose) were grazing when they noticed the mongoose (above). A mongoose isn’t a real threat to an adult nene, but it’s a real menace to a nene’s eggs and chicks. Though these birds weren’t nesting in this area and didn’t have chicks with them, Their protective instincts kicked in and one of the birds chased the mongoose away (second photo).
The mongoose scurried off into the tall grass, then reappeared on the edge and took stock of the scene (third photo). But when it ventured out (bottom), the nene’s attitude hadn’t mellowed and another charge ensued.
This scenario was repeated a few times before the mongoose lost interest and wandered off. Mongooses are very quick and will use this tactic of feints and retreats to wear out their intended victim. In this case, like the nene, it appeared to be more going through the motions in preparation for the next time it encounters a nene nest or chicks.
A fiery skipper butterfly stops to feed on blue heliotrope (Heliotropium amplexicaule) flowers.
Graham's Island 