I see there’s now a product for smart mouths. Just wondering when they’ll make a product for smart asses like me…

I found this handsome, roughly 1″ long, bug in my carport yesterday evening. Its size and unique appearance caught my eye and warranted a few photos.

Good thing it tolerated a mini photoshoot because I needed all the images during my research into the species. Placing it in the leaf-footed bug family was fairly simple. After all, those fancy legs are pretty obvious.

Since most of the species in that family reside in Mexico and Central America, I was left with just two possibilities; the Florida Leaf-footed Bug (Acanthocephala femorata) or the Flag-footed Bug (Anisoscelis affinis).

The former certainly sounded the most promising since I live in Florida (and the latter’s only US records are from Texas). I searched online images and both species had life stages that somewhat resembled my insect. Though, to complicate matters, all leaf-footed bugs can change color, to match the fruit they are consuming in order to avoid predation. So color was not a helpful identifier.

This is where my photos came in handy. In all its life stages, the Florida Leaf-footed Bug has a pointed tylus on its head (the genus name Acanthocephala translates as spiny head). The Flag-footed Bug does not have this protuberance. So, even though it sounds unlikely, I’m pretty sure it’s the latter.

I wonder how in the world it got here. I did have a couple packages delivered recently, perhaps it was a stowaway?

Now that it’s here, it’ll probably survive just fine. Specimens have been found hiding in Yellow Buttercups (Turner ulmifolia) and feeding on passionvines (Passiflora sp.), both of which I have planted in my yard.

Spent a lovely Saturday evening with good friends and sandy toes. The beach may not solve our problems but I figure we should at least check…

Speaking of testudines, on my beach walk yesterday morning I came across the turtle patrol. Noticing they were parked, and ever curious, I walked toward a nearby marked sea turtle nest.

Peering carefully over the markers, I noted a caved in area and tiny scratch marks in the sand around it. After roughly 100 days of incubation, sea turtle hatchlings leave their eggs, emerge from the sand*, and, typically, make their way to the water.

Unfortunately, some of these littles had been found in the backyard of a nearby house. So, the turtle patrol staff were searching the yard to make sure they’d all been found and relocated in the correct direction.

Sadly, I didn’t get to see the hatchlings clambering out of the soil. But it made me happy to know that at least one of our sea turtle nests was successful this year (since we’d lost all our nests last summer to storms).

*This mass emergence is the reason it is referred to as a “turtle boil”.

While I was out exploring earlier this week I spotted an odd lump on the road. At first I dismissed it as a pinecone but that didn’t seem quite right as I drove by. So I backed up to get a closer look.

That brownish lump turned out to be the smallest Gopher Tortoise (Gopherus polyphemus) I’ve ever seen. Knowing that they are a threatened species here in Florida (mainly due to habitat loss), I decided to help the little one out.

I certainly didn’t want a careless driver to run it over so I gently picked it up off the hot asphalt.* I carried it off the roadway, following the direction it had been pointed in. While the tortoise remained tightly tucked in during the transfer process, once on the ground it didn’t take long for the legs and head to emerge. Within seconds the wee one was walking into the nearby grassland.

Having noted a bite mark on its shell, I wished it well on its journey before continuing on mine. Good luck, little dude!

* I grew up in the Sonoran Desert with a very similar species, the Desert Tortoise (Gopherus agassizii), so I am acquainted with the protocol for carefully moving these creatures.

A certain someone did not want to get out of bed today! This is what I encountered when I returned to my bedroom after my morning ablutions. Oh, Westley, you’re such a silly boy!

Yesterday afternoon’s storm ended just in time for Alyssa and I to get in a lovely beach walk before nightfall. Breathing in freshly washed air, listening to the sound of gentle waves, finding a few sand dollars, and enjoying the company of a good friend – what a great way to end the day!

Though I often find these vivid rufous, orange shells on the beach, this was my first time finding one that was still inhabited. Despite their bellicose name, the Florida Fighting Conch (Strombus alatus) is a peaceable herbivore that poses no threat to humans. They are territorial however, with the males known to forcibly defend their personal space (hence their common name).

See those distinctive indentations (stromboid notches) near the lower, open end of the shell? Those are for the sea-snail’s eyestalks, which they periscope up so they can safely see around them (pretty cool feature).

Since I found this one in the sand near the high tide line, I picked it up and carried it back down into the water. Hopefully, we stayed within its territory, I wouldn’t want to have been the cause of an altercation!

Sadly, my dear friend Rich passed away last week. A bit of a showman, he sandwiched the event in between his recent 60th wedding anniversary and his birthday (this coming Wednesday).

I first met Rich and his amazing wife, Karen back in 2006 when they volunteered at Boyce Thompson Arboretum (the state park where I worked). I was thrilled to have their cheerful assistance, with even the strangest of projects, and there were plenty of those.

A hard worker, Rich took all my odd requests in stride. Once he stood for hours at a grinding wheel, smoothing away sharp edges on 1200 copper samples so I could give them to school children on field trips. I can’t say he was thrilled about it but he did it for the children.

Rich also had mischievous side. After studying background material, he led history tours of the park, pointing out unique features. I tagged along one afternoon and caught this tidbit, “See that rock formation over there? It’s 18 million years and 26 days old! How do I know that? Simple, they told me it was 18 million years old 26 days ago.” That got a good chuckle.

Even though we went our separate ways shortly after that, it was the beginning of a long friendship. Rich and Karen taught my then-husband and I important tips for successful RV living. A year later we caught up with them at their next volunteer gig in California.

When Rich and I drug our spouses along to a nearby tourmaline mine, we made a deal. He’d buy the bucket of tailings if I agreed to sort through it. It was a week before we had time to work on the bucket. We didn’t have high hopes but right away I found some colorful stones, almost too colorful. I looked up and saw that impish grin and knew I’d been had – he’d salted the bucket with little gems he’d bought online! Hysterical.

While visiting Rich and Karen at Galveston Island State Park in Texas, Rich taught me how to catch blue crabs with a chicken leg and string. We also metal detected on the beach, hoping to strike it rich by discovering pirate treasure (we came up empty-handed and it was cold but we had a great time).

The following year we popped in at Petrified Forest National Park where Rich led us on a behind the scenes hike to look for fossils. It was hot, and it almost killed me not to take anything for my collection, but absolutely fascinating.

After they settled in a cabin in Payson, Arizona we made it a point to visit at least once a year. Though Rich encouraged us to come more often so that he could have some “company food”. Implying that he never had anything good to eat and was suffering greatly. An exasperated Karen (who is an excellent cook) would roll her eyes and sigh, “Poor Richard!” It became our long-running joke.

A few years ago they moved to rural Virgina to help their daughter Kim achieve her dream of owning a flower farm and art collective. There were trees and shrubs to plant, fields to plow, meadows to mow, trails to hack in the overgrown woods, beavers in the pond to outwit, sculptures to install on the grounds, and numerous other tasks.

It got to the point where he’d threaten to leave the room when Kim would say, “I have an idea…” Though he might grumble, Rich always pitched in to help make it happen. Working a full half-day at a time (happy hour got a little bit earlier in the day over the years).

Rich and I shared a penchant for wanting to know what’s around the bend and I will miss our adventures. I know I will not be alone in missing him and his sense of humor. Mostly I’ll miss his big heart. He might have sounded gruff and cantankerous at times but he was always willing to help the people he cared about.

Happy trails, Rich, I hope you’re getting plenty of “company food”!

No matter what coast I’m on, I’m fond of beachcombing. In my book, bigger is not always better so imagine my delight when I discovered these wee sand dollars on the Neskowin Beach. Aren’t they just amazing!

Finding joy in the little things, a bit of a life lesson, yes?