Several years ago I was with botanist on a plant collection trip at the UC Davis McLaughlin Reserve. She spotted and identified a tiny yellow blur that streaked passed us on the drive. We were probably traveling at about 20 mph.

On Sunday, I hiking on Mt. Tamalpais at about 2 mph when I spotted this yellow beauty off the trail. I immediately recognized it as a member of the boom-rape family (Orobanchaceae), and I asked my friend Neovenator to take this picture of it. I forgot to ask  him to take more photos at different angles, but this one was adequate enough for me to key it out with the California Jepson Manual. I believe it’s clustered boom-rape (Orobanche fasciculata), and it is parasitic. There are no leaves or other chlorophyll-stuffed goodness for photosynthesis. Just above-surface flowers and below-surface roots tapping into some poor botanical soul. I also forgot to take note of the plants around it, so I can’t tell you which plant it might be leeching off of.

I was giddy about this find. The last time I saw any kind of boom-rape was five years ago in my Sierra Nevada flora class. My teacher identified this as California broom-rape (Orobanche californica):

In case you didn’t notice, I haven’t updated in four months. I blame it on a combination of school, apartment robbery, transition to a new job and a very long commute. Once I move in a few months to be a lot closer to my job, I will free up a lot of time and hopefully I’ll direct some of that to this blog.

Is the brown recluse in your state? Probably not. (Map Credit: Burke Museum, University of Washington)

Chesire is helping to demystify one of America’s favorite scapegoats (or scapespiders?): Loxoceles reclusa 101 (brown recluse)

Here in California, we don’t even have any brown recluses, but occasionally the news sensationalizes them. Since they’re not found in much of the United States, most doctors naturally have never seen one.

I have heard that in parts of the United States, hobo spiders (Tegenaria agrestis) are commonly misdiagnosed as brown recluse bites. Have anyone heard about this? Citations?

This evening I heard Rebecca Skloot (above) read from her upcoming book The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks about the HeLa cell culture line and the woman that they were derived from. Skloot is a science journalist who as contributed to the New York Times Magazine and RadioLab, among many others.

Human cells have a natural limit on how often they can divide before they die (Hayflick limit). Cancer cells have mutations that overcome this limit, granting them “immortality” since each cell can potentially go through an unlimited number of reproductions that most healthy cells cannot approach. This happened to the cervical cancer cells in Henrietta Lacks in 1951. A biopsy was taken from her and, without her knowledge or consent, her cancer cells became the first line of immortal human cells ever grown in lab culture. Tragically, Henrietta Lacks herself died from her cancer months after she was diagnosed.

Her unwitting contribution to science lead to a vast number of advances and discoveries. Her cells were used to develop the first polio vaccine. Her cells allowed scientist to find the link between cancer and the human papillomavirus (HPV). Dozens in the audience raised their hands when Skloot asked if they used HeLa cells in their research.

I have heard of HeLa cells before, but I have heard little about Henrietta Lacks, so I was absorbed by the reading.

I asked a question during the Q&A after the talk, and Skloot’s answer really drove home a core point in science writing. I asked her how she was able to warm up to the Lacks family after they refused her interviews for a year and a half. She tried several ways, but one of them was that she explained to the Lacks family the science behind Henrietta’s cells; no one had slowed down to understand their confusion and helped them apprehend what it really meant.

I hope to buy a copy of Skloot’s book when it is published in about a year.

Photography

I don’t take very many portraits, but for some reason I decided that I wanted to take one of Rebecca Skloot. After her talk, I approached her and complimented on how much I enjoyed her reading and talk, and then asked if I could take a her portrait. She courteously obliged, and I gave her one quick instruction (take a step back) before I snapped away. I wish I remembered to bring my flash with me to fill in some shadow detail, but I still liked how the portrait turned out.