Inverts

A bit of shell on a sandy pedestal. Photographed at Cape Henlopen State Park, Delaware.
Part of the head shield of a dead horseshoe crab (Limulus polyphemus), photographed at Prime Hook National Wildlife Refuge, Delaware.
A horseshoe crab (Limulus polyphemus), photographed at Cape Henlopen State Park, Delaware.
Eastern tiger swallowtail butterflies (Papilio glaucus) on a butterfly bush in central New Jersey. Photographed August 2, 2008.
A praying mantis, photographed this past weekend in central NJ. I do not know the genus and species, however, so if anyone has a clue feel free to speak up in the comments (I would just look through the genus and species listing but it is far too large).
Note: Many thanks to Lars Dietz (see comments) who has done so much to correct some errors of attribution I made in this piece. He truly went above and beyond to dig up the truth behind John Hill's book and I am certainly thankful that he has done so. In 1751 John Hill, upset the Royal Society of London rejected his application for membership, published a scathing critique of credulous papers printed by that body. One such review focused on a paper printed about an old, but common, legend that the Brent-Goose (probably Branta bernicla) was born not of eggs but of seashells dropped like fruit…
The picked-over remains of a horseshoe crab (Limulus polyphemus), the tracks around it being a dead giveaway as to who enjoyed a breakfast of rotting chelicerate. Photographed on May 17, 2008 at Cape Henlopen State Park, Delaware.
The remains of a horseshoe crab (Limulus polyphemus) that didn't make it back into the surf. Photographed on May 17, 2008 at Cape Henlopen State Park, Delaware.
One of the many millipedes I saw on yesterday's hike in New York. (I think it belongs to the genus Apheloria, although I'm not sure of the species).
The upturned, sand-filled remains of a horseshoe crab (Limulus polyphemus). Photographed at Cape Henlopen State Park, Delaware on May 17, 2008.
Gastropods eating the shell and gills of a horseshoe crab (Limulus polyphemus). Photographed May 17, 2008 at Cape Henlopen State Park, Delaware.
A close-up of the underside of a horseshoe crab (Limulus polyphemus). Photographed May 17, 2008 at the Cape Henlopen State Park, Delaware.
A horseshoe crab (Limulus polyphemus) that was stranded on the beach. My wife turned it over and helped it back into the bay. Photographed May 17, 2008 at Cape Henlopen State Park, Delaware.
Part of the head-shield of a horseshoe crab (Limulus polyphemus). Fragments of the carapaces of horseshoe crabs littered the entire length of the beach. Photographed May 17, 2008 at Prime Hook National Wildlife Refuge, Delaware.
Two horseshoe crabs (Limulus polyphemus) spawning at high tide. Other than one other solitary crab they were the only healthy individuals I saw. Photographed May 17, 2008 at Prime Hook National Wildlife Refuge, Delaware.
Photographed May 17, 2008 at Cape Henlopen State Park, Delaware.
A horseshoe crab (Limulus polyphemus), crawling along just below the tide line. (Photographed May 17, 2008 at Cape Henlopen State Park, Delaware.)
A horseshoe crab (Limulus polyphemus) that had previously been stranded starts to make its way back to the surf. (Photographed May 17, 2008 at Cape Henlopen State Park, Delaware.)
When I think about taphonomy, the science that studies what happens to an organism after death (often summed up as "the laws of burial"), my thoughts most immediately turn to large scavengers, wind, and water. When an elephant dies on the African savanna, for instance, the carcass is sure to attract carnivores that will strip some of the flesh from the bones and depending on the location of the body parts of it may or may not end up being preserved. It's easier to ignore the chemical changes and smaller organisms that contribute to the breakdown of a carcass, but the action of these…
In previous years I have had the good fortune of looking for fossils in the Inversand marl pit not long after a rain storm, the water washing away the sediment around small fossil shells and thus placing them on top of a little, sandy pedestal. I saw something similar this past weekend along the beach in Delaware, the recent action of water giving a number of shells their own little perch. The shells were small, in many cases little more than shell fragments, but as the photo above illustrates they still made for interesting subjects.