On the drive on Interstate 80 across the Causeway across the Yolo Bypass, I noticed what appeared to be the strangest-looking fog I had ever seen. Why was there fog? Even though it had rained the day before, it wasn't nearly humid enough for fog.
The light of the setting sun was catching the fog, creating a light spectacle on the Yolo Causeway. The fog looked a lot like someone had set up a vast array of sprinklers in the Yolo Bypass, but why would anyone do that? It's a Wildlife Refuge (the Vic Fazio Yolo Wildlife Area).
Stranger still, the fog seemed organized into rays radiating away from the roadway at periodic intervals, with each ray suspended about sixty degrees above horizontal. Instead of driving to Davis on Interstate 80, it looked more like I was driving to the Emerald City on The Yellow Brick Road!
Slowly it dawned on me: these were insects!
The Yolo Bypass is host to insects, of course, including Hydrobaenus saetheri, a unique midge important in the life cycle of salmon. Were these insects those insects? Maybe! I wanted to get some pictures of the display, so I pulled off at the Chiles Road exit to get a closer look before the sun set.
Left: The only good picture I got showing the sprinkler effect of these insects. Large, suspended particles like flying insects are best viewed looking towards the sun, where Mie forward-scattering is most-effective.
As it turned out, the best place to look at this phenomenon was not from below the roadbed of Interstate 80, but from Interstate 80 itself. I wanted to stop on the roadway shoulder, but that is really too dangerous: the fast-moving traffic is too close! So, for the most part, I had to make do with back-scattered light, which doesn't look nearly so spectacular.
Reddish Amaranth plants, with the Interstate 80 Causeway across the Yolo Bypass in the background. Sometimes I buy Amaranth Flakes as a breakfast cereal in the Organic section of the supermarket. What do they call it? Food of the Aztecs? Food of the Gods? Whatever they call it, it tastes good!
Underneath the roadway, looking up at the insects. No sign right here of the roosting bats that sometimes are found here.
Insect Rays seeming to emanate from the Interstate 80 roadbed at an angle of about sixty degrees from the horizontal.
Insect Rays seeming to emanate from the Interstate 80 roadbed at an angle of about sixty degrees from the horizontal.
Insect Rays seeming to emanate from the Interstate 80 roadbed at an angle of about sixty degrees from the horizontal.
Insect Rays seeming to emanate from a tree at an angle of maybe a bit less than sixty degrees from the horizontal.
This evening, I hadn't planned to charge headlong into a Wildlife Refuge. I was an Urban Boy suddenly dropped into the wilds. The pace of life here is different, and slower, than I had prepared myself for.
As sunset advanced, and shadows lengthened, little fears began to gnaw away at me. Are there snakes around here? Maybe. There are certainly lots of mosquitoes. Am I going to get West Nile?
There seemed to be a lot of noise emanating from the nearby grove of trees. It sounded like flowing water. Is there a waterfall over there? Am I hearing an echo of the freeway traffic? Are there a lot of birds over there?
Or is there a monster over there?
I love trains, so I waited for one of the frequent trains along this route to make an appearance. Nevertheless, I waited quite awhile. Catching West Nile from the mosquitoes, no doubt.
Here's the Capitol Corridor train blasting its way east, to Sacramento. The worried engineer honked his horn to warn me to keep my distance from the tracks, and there was a nice, satisfying blast of air as the train zipped by.
When I arrived at the DMTC theater, no one was there. "The King and I" callbacks were on Tuesday, not Wednesday. I am an idiot! An idiot with West Nile, but one with a renewed appreciation of what insects can do!
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