Fragments From Floyd

I think this will be the last of the New England Aquarium pictures, but I did want to show you one last thing. The creature depicted here was one of the first things I saw in the "Amazing Jellies" display, and trust me: it was a tough act to follow.

First glance into the tank one sees an odd aggregation of pie-plate sized thick crust pizza looking things cheek to jowl on the sandy body of a simulated mangrove forest floor. From the upper crust, green leafy sprigs wave in the artificial tidal currents; and underneath them, the pizzas are pulsing.

This is a jelly "fish"-- a group that are called the cnidarians. The "Upsidedown Jelly" as this species is called (genus Cassiopea) has abandoned the usual sea-jelly floating way of life of constantly undulating its outer bell as if in slow-motion flight, with stinging tentacles--some over 20 feet long--trailing below, trawling for food.

This member of the phylum is sedentary--almost plantlike--even to the use of photosynthesis by which it obtains some of its food (provided by the mutualistic relationship with algae that conveniently invade the leafy bladders on its upper crust.) If you look closely, you can even see faux-sand grains--part of the jelly's disguise--that increases its camouflage against the sea floor.

The Upsidedown Jelly uses its bell to create suction that keeps it anchored to the sandy bottom as the tides come in and out, bringing its food to the door. Its pulses draw food particles to its short waiting tentacles that will pass it ultimately over one of its mouths. What an amazing creature.

And briefly while on the subject of jellies, I learned at the Aquarium that the jellies of many kinds have become highly invasive in some areas, and grow in gross overabundance--sort of the starling-kudzu of the marine world--in places (and there are way too many) where sea water is polluted. As their numbers increase (compounded by global warming), the number of fish eggs and larval creatures of all kinds become food to the millions of jellies. Watch the cost of seafood in coming years. This will be part of the explanation.

Our oceans are very unwell and I'm afraid we haven't the foresight and collective international good will to make them whole again. Our living systems are out of balance in proportion to the disharmonies between nations, the strife within them, and our individual alienation from an ordered cosmos for which we no longer hold any reverence or awe.