The Zombie Wasp Fungus - Ophiocordyceps humbertii

My first time seeing the Zombie Wasp fungus, Ophiocordyceps humbertii. On Polistes sp. Etowah County, Alabama, May 16, 2023.

Around a month ago, while on a jaunt adjacent to the creek on my land in Northeast Alabama, I was overjoyed to accidentally stumble across such a bizarre and fascinating find. If my friend, Cassie, hadn’t stopped for photos of some Stemonitis sp., I don’t think I ever would have noticed the tiny monstrosity attached to the lower branches of a beech tree. The photos alone may evoke a visceral sense of unease and foreboding, and I can guarantee that reading the remainder of this blog post will only validate that intuition.

Ophiocordyceps humbertii is a parasitic, entomopathogenic fungus which specializes on wasps. The cycle of this particular infection likely begins on the forest floor, where wasps spend much of their days foraging. After initially being exposed to spores, a wasp is in all likelihood oblivious to the grim reality that its bodily tissues will be usurped by a vegetative mycelium over the course of a couple of weeks. In this covert-yet-hostile takeover, the mycelium hijacks the nervous system of its host, fully exploiting and manipulating the behaviors of the wasp in order to improve its own fitness.

At around 10-15 days post-infection, the wasp feels compelled to climb to an open, elevated position in which it can enhance both spore production and dispersal. Once it reaches its destination, it performs what its called “the death grip” (see photo #3 above for a closeup of this), clasping itself with its mandibles (and sometimes legs) to a nearby surface like a branch or a leaf. In some cases, a wasp will even cling to its own nest in order to directly infect the colony!

Having carried out this fungal directive, the wasp soon succumbs to death, meeting a brutal yet dramatically beautiful end. Fruiting bodies called stromata burst from every joint and suture of its exoskeleton, and the fungus concludes the mummification of the wasp’s body. At this point, the stromata mature, developing sexual structures called ascomata which will ultimately will release hundreds of thousands of spores into the forest understory. The cycle may then be repeated with the reinfection of new hosts.

If ever you are in need of a reminder of both our interconnectedness and vulnerability to nature, the Ophiocordcyeps genus is most assuredly a good place to start.

Thankful Thursday 6/08/2023

During tough weeks like this one, I’m very thankful for moth friends.

Thoughts on National Audubon's Society's - Mushrooms of North America -

Can you spot the spelling error on the front cover?

In April, my social media feeds went into a frenzy, mushroom enthusiasts striking silly poses with their shining copies of the new Audubon mushroom field guide. In the depths of my imagination, I envisioned a substantial-yet-organized text, suitable for the coffee table but likely to get dog-eared and stained by my afternoon tea and snacks. I wondered if some of my favorite fungi were included--and if they were, what sort of unsurveyed information might be included on those pages. Would there be species that I had never come across, and would the photos provided be comprehensive enough for me to easily ID them in the field? All of these questions would have to wait as my bank account was not prepared to drop the $30 to purchase the guide.

About a week after the initial hubbub, I noticed an increasingly popular post on the iNaturalist forums called “Surprised to find photos I placed on iNat in the new Audubon mushroom guide”. After scrolling through several pages of text, it became apparent that many of my fellow nature lovers were concerned and upset that their photographs had been utilized (for commercial use) without their permission. I thought that surely some sort of mistake had been made. However, as case after case was presented, it began to look damning. When someone finally posted a screenshot of the book’s list of contributing photographers, I curiously browsed to see if I saw any of my own friends. Three pages in, my mouth dropped open. I saw my own birth name printed alongside my old Mushroom Observer username. How could this be? I had protected all of my images on iNaturalist; I had surely done the same on Mushroom Observer. And why had Audubon not contacted me directly for permission like other publishers and authors I have previously dealt with? I felt honored that my photos had been used in such a publication, but at the same time I felt exploited. (Below are just a handful of my photos which were used).

Ultimately, I decided it was best to send an email to the publisher in order to clear things up. In this email, I expressed my concern for not being contacted— and also requested that, had my photos been used improperly, I be compensated with a complimentary copy of the book. I got a fairly prompt response from Penguin Random House, and it turned out that the photos which they had utilized were, unbeknownst to me, listed under commercial license on Mushroom Observer. The representative who spoke with me, despite this misunderstanding, offered to not only send me a free copy of the book—but also change my attribution to my preferred name in future printings. My interaction could not have gone much more smoothly, but I was still left with a lingering discomfort on how things had been initially handled. I really hope that others who have been affected by this slight scandal had a similar outcome, and I do hope that the National Audubon Society goes about their business in a more respectful manner when acquiring photographs for their publications in the future.

Soon after this email exchange, I grew eager to receive my copy of National Audubon Society Mushrooms of North America, curious to see how much more improved the re-release of a book printed over 40 years ago would be. Only a few days went by before it arrived, and I of course almost immediately dove in to the material.

Here are my impressions:

There are a plethora of well-written, expert descriptions within this hefty book—and it is obvious that a lot of work went into that aspect of the publication. Despite this, the text is not the most approachable or inviting—particularly for those who are beginners or casual hobbyists. For those who are looking for edibility or toxicity information (which was a big part of the 1981 version), this is not included within this new book. It should also be mentioned that this isn’t really so much a functional field guide as it is a desk guide—unless you don’t mind carrying an unwieldy and awkward book along for your hikes.

In terms of the visual layout of this book, I think it is quite chaotic and careless.

1) While some pages are efficiently organized, many others have been halfheartedly cobbled together. (And not to be pedantic, but there is a spelling error on the front cover).
2) Photographs range in quality from exceptional to downright terrible.
3) An overabundance of photos for individual species is crammed onto one page, rendering the book into an amalgam of inappropriately cropped, uncomfortably resized, and even scarcely discernible, blurred images.
4) The repetitive use of the same restricted views of fungi is distracting. There are several species pages that have multiple photos of just one angle which lack important identifying features (e.g. gill shots, stem shots, staining or bruising, cross-sections, or even other growth stages).

Below, I have selected four pages with examples of this:

1) Multiple photographs from same angle. Also a missed opportunity to show off the dramatic staining of Hygrocybe conica group. 2) I think one decent photo of Multiclavula mucida would have sufficed here. Filling the page with multiple photos of the same structures/angles/information does not provide any added value or use. 3) Multiple photographs of Conocybe apala from the same angle. Where are the gill shots? 4) Limited views of anatomy and no examples of the beautiful staining seen with Butyriboletus frostii.

Despite my problems with this book, I do think that (with a little bit of extra work and creativity) it could be salvaged. A huge difference could be made just by making some layout adjustments and seeking out some slightly more varied photographs. Furthermore, I do think that National Audubon Society and its partners need to show MUCH MORE respect for the photographers off of whom they are profiteering. This includes requesting permission for photo usage (despite attribution type) and leaving proper credit (not just a username or web address) within the book itself.

In its current state, I don’t know that I would recommend anyone purchase this book (unless they just happen to have an extra $30 that they are really itching to spend). My hope is that Audubon will listen to public criticisms like mine and strive to improve upon a book that so many of us have been looking forward to (but have been disappointed by).