Embedded Files
Join Chanticleer Walk (yes that is his name) on his sojourns through the natural world.
The South Bend Special - 7/15/24
The South Bend Special - 7/15/24
Hello, my dear Walkers.
Once again, I apologize for my absence of late. My most recent excursion took me to the bottom of a small lake in South Bend, Indiana where I spent the last few months stuck on a raft. I was up the creek without a paddle, so to speak, in very accurate terms. All that to say, I was delayed. Fear not, my dear Walkers, I am once again firmly on the shore, where I now catalogue my findings.
As you have no doubt heard by now, our little zine is facing more difficulties. Due to financial constraints, we are shifting to quarterly production. Apparently the move to a technological format was not enough, we must cut more costs. Hopefully, we may be able to return to the monthly format, or better yet, a physical format. But for now, we do what we must.
Now that we have the bad news out of the way, I have a special treat for you all today. In my impromptu voyage, I had the distinct pleasure of fishing for the very first time, both for pleasure and survival. Of all the fish that I caught, two fish caught my eye.
I had been adrift for a few hours when I realized I had no way to return to the shore. To pass the time as much as find a source of food, I began fishing. It was catch and release for a while until I finally wrangled some worth eating. Just before I caught my dinner, I reeled in a bluryfish. I was elated. I recognized it immediately. A particularly wiggly little fellow, the bluryfish performs an exceedingly acrobatic somersault when hooked. Even though I was mere hours into my months-long stranding, I knew everything would be ok. Bluryfish are good omens among fishermen. They are heralds of both safety and surplus. I had no shortage of food and I have obviously returned to the safety of the shore. Granted, there were times I believed I would never again feel solid ground beneath my feet, but the bluryfish came through.
Heretofore unknown, a personal discovery and the fish that brought me safely to shore, was the last fish I caught on this sojourn. There I was, sitting in my chair on my raft, line in the water, and I felt a tug. Stronger than any I had felt before. Whatever lurked beneath the surface grabbed hold of line and yanked me clear into the water. I had retrieved my waterproof camera, knowing I would want to photograph this fellow, just before I tumbled headfirst into the drink. As I was dragged along, I looked ahead of me to see what was pulling the line. To my surprise, the fish swam upside down! As we neared the shore, the fish swam up, or down from his flipped perspective, and leapt from the water, beaching the both of us. This experience left me wondering whether I caught him or he caught me. Regardless, based on his behavior, I dubbed this fish the "Upside Down Ground Fish" and added him to the International Fish Database. Luckily, I had the forethought to nab my camera and was able to photograph him before releasing him back into his wet home.
And now a special treat. Included in this edition are photographs of each of these finds. Normally, I am unable to include photos as the animals I have reported to you so far are somewhat restricted in publications for their protection. I have received special permission to share visual evidence of these two spectacular specimens. I hope you all enjoy the images below (top: bluryfish; bottom: Updside Down Ground Fish).
Until next time, Walk on!
-CW
PPP - 4/22/24
PPP - 4/22/24
Përshëndetje prized pedestrians!
Please pardon the permutation. Perhaps you're pondering the prolific presence of "P"s. A parasite, Paraguayan Ponstatic Parasymphosid (PPP), penetrates the pons (part of the brain stem) promptly putting patients into partial paralysis. Procuring power over parasympathetic processes, PPP produces a persistent and pervasive pause. Perceptually, polluted people present as perished. Paradoxically, pneumatic processes persist. Our pallid president possibly possesses a parasite. Pleasurably, a protector from PPP is pickles. Pickles possess polypeptides poisonous to PPP. Partaking of pickles periodically protects from PPP. Provide pickles to H. Percival G. X posthaste. Pickles present potential providence.
Paalam, Perpetually patrol!
-CW
An Underrated Mollusk - 3/30/24
An Underrated Mollusk - 3/30/24
Hello my dear Walkers,
I feel it is my responsibility to discuss a violent and gross injustice.
The LOEWE Centre for Translational Biodiversity Genomics, Senckenberg, and Unitas Malacologica are hosting their annual International Mollusk of the Year competition in which the public votes for their favorite mollusk. A noble cause of course, bringing attention to such an adorable and important creature. However, the snail-brained executives at LOEWE and Senckenberg have once again overlooked perhaps the most incredible mollusk, the beefy squibblenong.
Found exclusively in small lakes in the southeastern region of the US (primarily in religious summer camp locations), this amphibious creature spends most of its life moving among the debris that has sunk to the bottom. The main body is that of a large slug with small, feathery, retractable tendrils on the underside of the body. Beefy squibblenongs get their name from their size, nearly 4 inches long and an inch in diameter. They have a 4 inch long appendage that attaches at the tail end. It keeps the appendage pressed against its body as it moves. When it is time for the beefy squibblenong to feed, it grabs a branch with the appendage and floats up into more open water, extending its tendrils to filter feed on small protozoa floating through the water.
Beefy squibblenongs mate for life. When it is time to breed, they climb out of the water and up nearby trees, out onto the branches that overhang the lake. Here, beefy squibblenongs mate with their partners. We have not yet figured out how to tell the difference between a male and a female beefy squibblenong, but they seem to know. The female crawls out onto a leaf to lay the eggs on the underside. The mated pair then guards the leaf from any intruders, whether that be bugs, birds, or other beefy squibblenongs. Using its appendage as a whip, beefy squibblenongs are formidable fighters.
While in the tree, beefy squibblenongs feed on nearby bark and small insects. After 2 weeks of dutifully guarding their eggs, the pair chews through the stem of the leaf, allowing it to fall into the water below, where the eggs detach from the leaf and sink into the muddy bank below to hatch after another two weeks. The mated pair drops together into the lake below, finds where the egg cluster sank, and builds a small nest around the eggs. A newly hatched beefy squibblenong is just under an inch in length. They are cared for and raised by their parents for the next year, at which point the young have reached full maturity and go off on their own.
It is very clear why the beefy squibblenong is the most incredible mollusk. Perhaps LOEWE and Senckenberg recognize how unfair the competition would be if the beefy squibblenong was included. Regardless, some attention is warranted and I hope you are as outraged as I am at this disregard.
Until next time, Walk on!
-CW
Grainhorse and Sparknart - 2/8/24
Grainhorse and Sparknart - 2/8/24
Hello my dear Walkers,
First and foremost, I would like to apologize for my absence in our most recent edition. I was away on one of my "excursions" and I missed the memo that we have changed to an electronic platform. As per usual, I had sent my handwritten notes, to which you have been accustomed, back to our offices by way of my beloved rare German green-snouted blue-tongued carrier weltbird, Handel. Unfortunately, none of our other writers, or even our editor, took the initiative to transcribe, scan, or at the very least summarize my notes for your enjoyment. I am deeply sorry. As a token of appreciation for your understanding and an apology for the inconvenience, I will detail two discoveries this week instead of the usual one.
The Grainhorse
During my travels in the Amazon Rainforest this past month, I had the wonderful privilege to be one of the few people in the world to lay eyes on the gorgeous grainhorse. The grainhorse is an animal who has only been spotted in the northwestern corner of the southeastern quadrant of the central Amazon Rainforest. As if a barrier keeps it in place, the grainhorse seems to stay within a 5 mile radius. Despite its minute area of habitation, the grainhorse is one of the most elusive animals.
The grainhorse is an odd looking creature. Imagine a horse that is roughly the size of an armadillo, and you would be getting close. The front legs of the grainhorse move more like arms and have claws that appear to be primarily used for digging. While it is most often seen walking on all fours, looking much like a human walking on all fours, they have been noted to stand and walk on their hind legs. The fur of a grainhorse looks quite like a field of wheat. The fur appears to bristle out at the top much like a single stalk of wheat. It even has the golden sheen. It can be deduced that its name stems from its appearance. The grainhorse makes its home digging small burrows. We found at least seven different grainhorse burrows in this area. While that would lead you to think there are multiple grainheese, so far only one has been tagged. This tagged grainhorse is also the only one we ever see. We assume the grainhorse most often travels from burrow to burrow using an underground tunnel system and can only be seen when it comes out to gather food in the canopy above. The grainhorse diet primarily consists of very small mammals found in the canopy or on the forest floor. The grainhorse also has been seen eating berries, often shortly after eating a small mouse or some other rodent. It is guessed that they are having a little dessert after their meal. As such, the grainhorse is an omnivorous animal. The grainhorse was one of the more interesting animals I have ever come across, and I hope we find more grainheese.
The Sparknart
The next animal I would like to discuss was one I came across while on a whale watching tour just off the coast of Unga, Alaska. While I was watching off the port bow, looking through my binoculars in hopes of catching sight of a slapping whippy or a jumping pantoon, I caught sight of a very bewildering beast.
The large fish looked much like a bluegill, but was the size of a tiger shark. The vibrant and electric, almost neon, greens and blues stood out against the white backdrop of the ice and snow. The color palette of a deep sea dweller, where I can only assume it makes its home, coming to the surface only to feed when food down there gets scarce. As I later found out, the sparknart, as it is apparently called, is incredibly rare. Only a handful have ever been seen, none have been caught. Little is known from a lack of documentation and an inability to research it consistently, but here is what we know. The sparknart is a large fish who preys on smaller fishes. The sparknart uses its striking coloration in an intensely disorienting dance to ward off potential predators. The sparknart has only been spotted during waning crescent moons. Should you ever attempt to witness a sparknart, make sure to plan your trip accordingly. Scientists at Unga, Alaska are continuously working to uncover more information about the sparknart. Maybe the next time I see one, I will have more information for you.
I hope you enjoyed this week's special edition walk.
Until next time, Walk on!
-CW
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