
Wordless



Pleasing Fungus beetles. Yes, that’s their actual name. They live on the fungus that grows on dead trees, in this case downed by fire. I don’t know whether this group–originally there were three–were mating or tussling.
As my zoologist mother said, “You be grateful to fungus and bacteria. If it weren’t for them you’d be up to your neck in dead dinosaurs.”

More than fifty elk, cautious but unworried, moved slowly away from us around the base of a narrow mesa. We hoofed it up the slope and across the mesa top in time to watch them leap two fences and head single file up the next ridge.
Not the best focus, but the best behinds.