Slime Molds, Mushrooms, and More Glow Worms at Momorangi Bay
Cherry-red Hygrocybe, yellow powdery slime molds, and glow worms shining like constellations in New Zealand’s Marlborough Region.
This past weekend I drove forty-five minutes up the winding road from Renwick back to Momorangi Bay, a place I’ve returned to many times during my months in New Zealand’s Marlborough Region on the South Island.
I pitched my tent and headed into the bush that rises behind the campground. My expectations were low given that mushroom season is tapering off, but the real purpose of my trip was to capture bioluminescent glow worms along the track for a photography assignment.
To my surprise, I still found cherry-red Hygrocybe mushrooms growing in the same spot where I had found them earlier in the year.
Further in, I searched places where I’d seen interesting species, like at the base of ponga trees, but came up empty.
Then, a cluster of delicate, yellow powdery slime molds growing on a rotting log (Oligonema verrucosum). I usually psych myself out and pass them up due to them being temperamental and requiring a lot of patience, but these seemed worth the effort.
As I took photos I could see on my camera screen, in real time, the capillitium with spores attached emerging from the sporatheca, the wind blowing the fine hairs into blurred motion. Holding my breath, I tried with younger specimens, and after a lot of trial and error, captured some decent ones.
Here’s a noisy 5+ minute video I took sped up to show the growth:
Later that night, I returned to the track where the glow worms were. They appeared like a sparkling constellation scattered across the side of the trail. Though I’d shot them before, this time I worked with a low ISO. Even so, their luminosity was strong enough that exposures stretched only thirty seconds to a minute.
Below if a short video of a glow worm moving.
I must have spent over an hour crouched in the dark with the glow worms before finally returning to camp and calling it a night. The night didn’t stay quiet for long and gusts of wind tested my tent, followed by raindrops that began as a gentle patter and soon grew louder and louder on the fly. I slept in fragments that were broken by uneasy dreams of the rain fly tearing loose and water rushing in.
By dawn, the rain showed no sign of letting up, so I broke camp quickly and made my escape before things got worse. The rain brought back memories of a trip months earlier, when my wife and I had been forced to flee our flooding campsite. Despite the rough night, the trip was still worth it.
Very cool post, Joe!