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THIS WEEK IN
CALIFORNIA WILD

life on the edge

Attending to the Finer Points

Keith K. Howell

It is not the devil who is in the details. Far from it. The devil would have you ignore them, for it is from the details that truth emerges. That can certainly be said about the work of the California Academy of Sciences, one of the world's leading science institutions, devoted to unraveling the texture of the natural world. Species evolve in subtle ways. As climates alter or predators become more effective, incremental changes, minor successful mutations, enable a new species to emerge. Better adapted to its environment, the new creation will survive.

For example, a population of fish pressured by quicker predators may evolve to become faster, with more streamlined bodies. In the process these fish may grow a few horizontal scales and eventually become a different species. As size variation within a species makes the length itself an inexact criteria, those extra scales are critical to defining the new species. Likewise, the pattern of bristles on a fly's body, or its wing veins, can be key to determining its family or species. And the ornamentation on the nutlets, which determine the species of popcorn flowers, can only be differentiated by looking at the seed through a microscope.

What is minutiate to the uninformed overwhelms the eye of an expert. An early botanist with an eye for detail was David Douglas, whose skills were recognized by William Hooker and who was sent out from the Horticultural Society of London in 1824 to discover the plants of North America. His story is told by Stephen L. Shepherd in "Trials of an Intrepid Botanist." Douglas's accomplishments were many and his enthusiasm never faltered, despite travels fraught with obstacles. Like two of the Society's three botanical collectors sent overseas before him, his job would prove fatal.

It was to reflect such attention to detail that we decided to change one of our regular departments. "A Trail Less Traveled." which some readers protested exposed their secret spaces to a wider public, has evolved into "A Closer Look." This new series will focus on a small, single feature--a rock, a puddle, a canopy, or, as in this issue, a fallen tree--and explore the microecosystem that grows on, in, and around it. In this way, we will more closely follow the work of the Academy's scientists, whose genius lies in recognizing the particular, the specific, the species.

Another column has gone through a minor change; "Science Track" has been renamed "In Pursuit of Science." Its focus remains the same--to feature inspiring people who have taken their science education to unusual heights or in surprising directions, and to demonstrate innovation in the classroom, whether it be in schools, teachers, or students. This month, our topic is the study of San Francisco's Mountain Lake, a largely overlooked wetland at the corner of Lake Street and Park Presidio. The lake's continued existence is something of a miracle, as more than one civil engineer has felt that road construction in the neighborhood would be simpler without. But the lake has survived and become a recent cause celebre. A consortium of students, volunteers, and educational organizations is slowly piecing together the intricacies of its ecosystem.

Another group, consisting of amateur scientists, though they might not recognize themselves in that description, is also obsessed by detail: fly fishermen. In conjunction with the exhibit "Anglers All" opening here at the museum on July 21, we are publishing "The Thing With Feathers," written by English professor and ardent fly fisherman Ted Leeson. His philosophic account of the care, attention, and detail that goes into fly tying, critical prologue to the intricacies of fishing, offers a glimpse into why the sport has captured so many imaginations.


Keith K. Howell is editor of California Wild.

California Wild Spring 2002 cover

Summer 2001
Vol. 54:2