Floating Spider

 I found this spider floating on the surface of water in a bucket, waiting for me to free it. Note in the first photo the indentations it made on the water surface, allowing surface tension of the water to keep it from sinking. It is about three inches (8 cm) across. Click to enlarge. 

Reckless Raccoon

I arise early in the morning—a little after 4:00 am, to begin my day. Shortly after I am up and stumbling around, I usually get the urge to excrete some of the previous day's solid menu items. We have an outdoor composting privy, so I step outside in the dark, with a flashlight in hand.

One recent morning I was faced with a raccoon, nosing around the yard, looking for any food tidbits that may have been left for him. I stopped, surprised, and pointed the light at him. He stopped, surprised, and looked at me, without moving. Trying to shoo him away, I hissed at him. He stood his ground, as if to be puzzled by a hissing beam of light. OK, I thought, maybe he needs something more threatening to urge him on his way. I lowered my voice as much as I could, and growled—trying to imitate a bear or a 1,000-pound raccoon predator. He turned and slowly ambled off. So much for my frightening impression.

The next morning I ventured out in the dark, this time pausing at the doorstep and pointing my flashlight out to his yesterday's location. There he was again, sniffing around for food! I did my best to growl again—sounding as large as I was able. Once again, he turned and slowly sauntered away... appearing not the slightest bit worried.

A couple of days later I opened the door to seek my morning's relief at the privy, and guess who was waiting for me. He was actually sitting down, as if he was waiting to see if the snarling light would come out to greet him yet again. This time I did the loudest and nastiest growl I could produce, as I simultaneously stomped my feet. Maybe a growling light with big, pounding paws would intimidate him. This time he turned and moved away at a slightly greater pace—but still too leisurely for my taste, so I pursued him, making as much stomping noise as I could. He retreated.

I turned and headed toward the privy, believing I had made my point that he was not welcome. Suddenly I heard the skittering sound of little feet, as the raccoon came streaking up from behind, almost brushed against my leg, and vanished into the darkness ahead of me.

It was almost as if he was toying with me—as if we were engaged in some playful game. A bit rattled, I did my privy business, nervously peering into the gloom, but he seemed to have moved on. I've not seen him since, on my morning affairs. Maybe he tired of the game, or decided there were no morsels of food to be had, or is off seeing if he can startle a neighbor as much as he did me.

Tussock Moth Larva

Click to enlarge
 

Tussock Toxins

We have a nasty little caterpillar that threatens to cause us significant painful itching at this time of year. It is the sycamore tussock moth caterpillar (Halysiodota harrisii). (Does that second Latin word mean “harassing?”) It is a cute little guy—sort of like a fuzzy woolly bear caterpillar that you are drawn to pick up and stroke, like a tiny kitten. It is whitish-yellow, with long decorative tufts of an orange or brown color. Endearingly cute.

But woe unto those who touch this wee caterpillar—which is only about an inch (2-3 cm) long. Those fuzzy hairs are called setae (which originates from the Latin word for “bristle.”) They contain a toxin that evolution has given to the little worm—to ward off potential predators, such as birds. Nature did not endow them with this defense in order to fend off humans, but it works on us too, although we really do not intend to eat them.

The setae, upon being touched, break off and implant themselves in your skin. The hollow setae then empty their toxin, which causes an overreactive human immune system response. As a result, the body gets flooded with a pro-inflammatory compound called histamine—which can incite an array of allergic symptoms. As you might guess, an antidote to the inflammation caused by the histamine is to take a dose of an antihistamine.

The sycamore tussock caterpillar seems to know that it is not a critter to mess with. Unlike other small prey who jump and run when faced with a predator, this guy simply and slowly goes about its business—similar to a skunk. It is fearless. 

My and my wife’s vulnerability to the sycamore tussock moth caterpillar's toxin is heightened, due to the fact that we have several towering sycamore trees overlooking our home. I have written before of how graceful these trees are, and they provide much desired cool shade. But in late summer the caterpillars slowly descend on a silken thread from way overhead—like a circus acrobat in slow motion.

We have become accustomed to looking out for these yellow worms as they dangle in space—giving them a wide berth. Yet, the other night, as I was heating up our outdoor bath, I found one floating on the surface of the hot water, wriggling in discomfort. I picked up the sieve with which I scoop out fallen leaves and other debris, and carefully lifted it from the bath water.

It never occurred to me that its writhing had dislodged some of those nasty setae, which were now floating on the water's surface—awaiting a naked human body to stick to. Unfortunately for my wife, her body was the first one to submerge. Unknowingly, she—and later I—made contact. In a few hours—and certainly by the next morning—we reacted with the usual redness, swelling, itching rash, with welts on various skin surfaces. There's not much that can be done—other than take an antihistamine and suffer for a day or two… or four.

In over two decades of outdoor hot baths, this is the first one that has demonstrated how much suffering a tiny worm can cause in the bath. Was it a one-off? I sure hope so, but in the future I'll be on the lookout for cute yellow caterpillars swimming in the tub, in late summer.

Moonrise

Moon rising over the hill. Click to enlarge. 

Presidential Powers

In the aftermath of the US succeeding in its revolution that cast off the colonial oppression of England in 1783, leaders of the former colonies met in Philadelphia, to thrash out a constitution for the new country. They were fully aware of the fact that they were creating a new state and hoping that its governing process would be robust and unprecedented. They wished to forge a democracy that was modeled on a republic created some 2200 years earlier in Greece.

Having just shaken off the heavy-handed rule of King George, they were determined to avoid setting up a form of government that would again control the American populace with monarchical powers. In their minds, the new country would need an executive who had the power to manage its affairs, but who would also be restrained by two complementary branches of government: the legislative and judicial branches.

The country's founders, besides being concerned about limiting presidential powers, were also wary of establishing too much democracy. They were chary of setting up a “tyranny of the majority,” wherein the ignorant and uninformed masses would become influenced by emotional and feverish ideas and vote for foolish programs and compelling ideas put forth by a charismatic person or cabal.

The founders were, after all, prosperous and educated men. They possessed ideals of how a democracy should behave, but had elitist biases about preventing the mob from taking over. Plato held similar apprehensions about democracy in ancient Athens—that uninformed commoners would force unwise actions. These concerns of the framers of the US Constitution in 1787 resulted in establishing the Electoral College, which would correct for a possible foolish popular vote for a president.

The constitutional fathers debated long and passionately on how to create a constitution that would prevent any one individual (the president) or group (the masses) from seizing too much power and sending the country off into chaotic behavior. They did a remarkable job of it. For over 200 years the checks and balances they built into the document have kept the US from careening out of control, when imbalance threatened.

After the Constitution was drafted and sent to the 13 states for ratification (which occurred two years later), many people expressed concerns about some of its provisions. For one specific example, George Mason of Virginia was disturbed that it allowed the president to pardon convicted criminals. He could foresee the possibility that an unscrupulous president would encourage his faithful minions to commit illegal acts on his behalf and then pardon them, after they were convicted. Mason thought that this provision of the Constitution would allow a deceitful president to become an autocrat who would then take control, not unlike King George.

Mason was vocal about his fears, and threatened to stop Virginia from ratifying the proposed Constitution. Virginia's approval was crucial. During the state's debates, John Madison convinced George Mason to relax, by telling him that surely if ever a president went that far, he would quickly be impeached and removed from office. 

The founding fathers wrote a constitution that successfully guided the country for over two centuries, yet Donald Trump has utilized both the Electoral College intervention and presidential pardon power to indeed establish himself as a would-be autocrat. The Electoral College process awarded him the presidency, despite his losing the popular vote. That constitutional process of the forefathers backfired.

In addition, Trump has currently pardoned two of his convicted henchmen, who broke laws on his behalf. George Mason surely must be agitatedly rolling in his grave.