Life, Death, and Taxonomy
“…and today we’re talking about a cool Canadian cat. But more on that later.”
As iron sharpens iron, so does one man sharpen another. A friend can show you the way to a better you… but sometimes… so can a rival. The Canadian wilderness is the field for an eternal game of cat and hare… and arms race of snowmanship and speed on unsteady ground. The Lynx and the hare are locked in a chase that has molded both of their bodies into machines built for a frigid Life, Death, and Taxonomy.
“…and today we’re talking about a fish that would shoot a guy in the back. But more on that later.”
Lurking in the low-lit lounge of the Pacific lies the spotted ratfish, this silvery weirdo skims the ocean floor, callously crunching crustacean carapaces. Part shark, part rabbit, part catfish thing, it glides around with the confidence of something that knows it’s packing a deeply unsettling surprise up top. A creature that proves the ocean’s design committee has a motto of “no bad ideas”, it pays to be weird in the water like the Spotted Ratfish here in Life, Death, and Taxonomy.
“…and today we’re talking about insistent incisors. But more on that later.”
A black rat finds a brick stack that blocks his way back to a food sack that helps his rat pack get a good snack.
There’s no flaw in a steady gnaw in the brick’s flaw with a rat jaw and a sharp claw.
To the rat’s glee, he is set free through a hole he made as a devotee to a chewy Life, Death, and Taxonomy.
“…and today we’re talking about the worst thing about wasp prison. But more on that later.”
Slender, shiny, and carrying the emotional energy of a horror movie villain, the Dementor Wasp floats through the insect world like a tiny eight-legged HR nightmare. This is not a creature that rushes, panics, or gets its hands dirty—this is a creature that plans. With surgical precision and the patience of a chess grandmaster, it turns chaos into compliance and free will into a suggestion, like the Dementor Wasp here in Life, Death, and Taxonomy.
“…and today we’re talking about an animal so cool, they named an X-man after it.”
It takes a tenacious heart to survive in the Yukon and other high latitude places. Food is a reward for the brave and the bold when temperatures drop below zero. The wolverine is a small creature with a big appetite and an even bigger attitude. But it’s not the size of the wolverine in the fight but the size of the fight in the wolverine that matters in Life Death and Taxonomy.
“…and today we’re talking about a screaming sensation. But more on that later.”
In the open meadows, the humble goat grazes and stares into the middle distance, contemplating its place in the universe and the meaning of life. Its calls shift subtly, shaped by its social circle, adapting as needed to fit in or stand apart. It’s vacant expression and square pupils belie a hidden linguist But sometimes you have to talk the lingo to blend in like the goat here in Life, Death, and Taxonomy.
“…and today we’re asking hoo is this bug? But more on that later.”
In nature, mimicry allows some creatures to ride the coat tails of others. You get the aura–the vibe of a dangerous, poisonous, or disgusting critter without having to put in the hard work of developing those traits. But the Giant Owl Butterfly takes it to another level–in some cases looking like a photorealistic copy of a frightening predator. But imitation is the sincerest form of flattery in Life, Death, and Taxonomy.
“…and today we’re talking about a familiar feathered friend. But more on that now.”
In the quiet just before dawn, when everything feels briefly held in place, one animal steps in and breaks it like a neighbor who thinks that revving his mufflerless engine at 5 am is what the kids on fleek think is cool. The famous rooster isn’t a gentle symbol of morning so much as a blunt announcement that the day has arrived, whether anyone is ready or not. What makes it work is that he’s built to handle his own noise—his biology shields him from the worst of his call, letting him shout into the darkness without paying the price for it. But sometimes you need the ultimate hack if you’re the herald who howls without hazard, ensuring your racket reigns supreme like the Rooster here in Life, Death, and Taxonomy.
“And today we’re talking about a tiny creature that looks like a penguin but isn’t. More on that later.”
A bird with a funny name sits upon a dock post of a frigid Atlantic wharf, waiting for friends to arrive for the busy mating season. With a beak the color of sunset, these seabirds squawk greetings to pals arriving from the solitary hunting season. But some new faces on Maine shores have strange customs…but sometimes it’s best to join in to fit in–in life death and taxonomy.
“….and today we’re talking about a tiny, little farmer. But more on that later.”
(Messor Ibericus)