Tag Archives: fungi

Ancient rainforest

A firm grip on the Earth . Buttress roots in a gentle rain, Toonumbar NP, New South Wales.

This is a selection of images from a trip to the World Heritage-listed rainforests of northern New South Wales. These sub-tropical forest remnants — known as the Gondwana rainforests — are centred around the ancient caldera of the Mount Warning shield volcano, and stretch either side of the eastern section of the New South Wales–Queensland border.

I’d like to dedicate this post to my friends in the Queensland Parks and Wildlife Service who were recently made redundant in public service cutbacks. Dedicated, hard-working, passionate, experienced and skilful people one and all.

Mount Warning from the Border Ranges, New South Wales. Mount Warning, now the centre of Wollumbin National Park, is the remaining core of a giant shield volcano that towered above the landscape 20 million years ago. This photograph was taken from the remains of the edge of the original volcanic crater, or caldera, now covered by subtropical rainforest, and stretching in a semi-circle from northern New South Wales to southern Queensland.

Looking east to the Pacific Ocean from the Border Ranges.

The Gondwana rainforests include the most extensive areas of subtropical rainforest in the world, large areas of warm temperate rainforest and nearly all of the Antarctic beech cool temperate rainforest. Few places on earth contain so many plants and animals which remain relatively unchanged from their ancestors in the fossil record. The outstanding geological features displayed around shield volcanic craters and the high number of rare and threatened species are of international significance for science and conservation.

The Gondwana Rainforests of Australia World Heritage Area was first inscribed on the World Heritage List in 1986 and extended in 1994. It is what is known as a serial World Heritage Area and is comprised of several protected areas in north-east NSW and south-east Queensland.

The Gondwana rainforests of Australia World Heritage Area

Brindle Creek, Border Ranges, New South Wales.

Brindle Creek, Border Ranges, New South Wales.

Seeking the light. Toonumbar NP, New South Wales.

Leaf-tailed Gecko (Saltuarius swainii), Toonumbar NP, New South Wales.

Red gold. A Red Cedar (Toona ciliaris), Toonumbar NP, New South Wales.

On the borderline. The Queensland-New South Wales border runs along the backbone of many rainforest-covered ridges, such as Springbrook NP.

Toonumbar NP, New South Wales.

Rainforest skink (Saproscincus sp.), Toonumbar NP, New South Wales.

Tiny fungi at ground level, Toonumbar NP, New South Wales.

Carpet Python (Morelia spilota), Nightcap NP, New South Wales.

Lamington Spiny Cray (Euastachus sulcatus), Wollumbin NP, New South Wales.

Terania Creek, Nightcap NP, New South Wales. The site of Australia’s first protest gatherings to save the east coast’s last remaining rainforests from development. Thanks to every one of those ‘greenies’ for your wisdom, passion and the desire to stand up for your beliefs.

More rain, more fungus, new birds

Fungi, Queen's Park, Toowoomba

Fungi, Queen's Park, Toowoomba

Why was this fungus interesting? Well, apart from the fact that I just like fungi, it was at the base of an exotic pine tree in Queen’s Park, in the top branches of which three Yellow-tailed Black Cockatoos, a new Toowoomba bird species for me, were prising apart pine cones. My little camera had no hope of catching a decent cockatoo image, so this fungus is here instead!

Return of the ghostly Ghost Fungus!

Back in June 2010 I posted an article on naturalist Rod Hobson’s discovery of the fascinating glow-in-the-dark Ghost Fungus (Omphalotus nidiformis) on the edges the Toowoomba escarpment in eucalypt woodland.

Fungi are always fascinating, but the Ghost Fungus really stands out — especially at night. A chemical reaction between fungal enzymes and oxygen causes a ghostly, and quite powerful, luminescence.

Ghost fungus, December 2010

Ghost fungus, December 2010

In December of 2010 I was walking with my 10-year old son in some urban bushland not far from home, when he drew my attention to a large patch of fungus on a tree stump, saying they looked like the Ghost Fungus. I was pretty sceptical, but we returned that night and sure enough, a mysterious ghow could be seen from a fair way down the track as we approached. Spectacular and enchanting stuff.

I did not photograph them then, and when I returned in early January, there was no sign of them on the stump at all. As Rod reminded me, what we see as a fungus is only the fruiting body of the organism, with the main part invisible within the bark of stump or in the ground. Still disappointing though. Show yourself, fungus!

Same Ghost Fungus, January 2011

Same Ghost Fungus, January 2011. Or not. Hiding maybe.

After outrageous amounts of rain, and even floods through the rest of this year (flood, what flood?), the fungi magically reappeared, bigger than ever, so last night I set out with Harry in the howling wind and rain to see if we could sneak up and capture some images of the elusive things glowing away happily.

Ghost fungus, April 2011

Yes, you guessed it, same Ghost Fungus, April 2011.

Yes, they were indeed glowing, but capturing them was not easy, despite their sedentary nature. Howling gales looked set to bring trees down, and rain pelted us. For some bizarre reason scrub ticks were out in this weather and Harry ended up taking one home with him, firmly attached (the trials of the assistant).

After answering the lad’s reasonable question about how I would work out an accurate night exposure of barely-visible fungi in near cyclonic conditions (“Textbook mate — mess about with tripod, attempt to focus, set on manual, guess an f-stop, open shutter, count to a hundred, then count to a hundred again, close shutter, peer at screen, curse and mumble, repeat process with different variables etc etc.”) we took a few photos, with the hapless kid holding an umbrella over me, the camera and the fungus. It got wearying, with little result, and constant water all over the lens. “Just one more,” I said, and we sat and counted erratically to two hundred again. “It’s completely bloody black!” I moaned, looking at the resulting image on the screen. “Dad,” came a weary and mildly astonished voice, “you’ve still got the lens cap on!” Hmmm.

Groan, one more try. Lens cap OFF, fumble for cable release, shutter open. Start counting.

Ghostly Ghost Fungus on stormy night. Exposure - F something, count to maybe 200. Photo by Harry and Robert Ashdown.

Success at last. The Ghostly Ghost Fungus on a stormy, haunted night. Exposure details — removed lens cap, set aperture to f something (forget), count to maybe 200. Photo by HARRY and Robert Ashdown.

Ghost Fungus, again. Spooky. Photo Robert and Harry Ashdown.

Ghost Fungus, again. Spooky. Photo Robert and Harry Ashdown.

Eventually we got two shots that worked, and back home we both agreed it was worth the uncomfortable excursion. What a mysterious, magical, and even ghostly thing fungi are!

Other glowing stuff:

Some Australian fungi facts:

  • There are approximately 250,000 species of fungi in Australia, of which possibly only 10% have been scientifically described and named. There are at least 71 known species of luminescent fungi in the world, with six of those found in Australia.
  • Healthy ecosystems need healthy, diverse populations of fungi. About 95% of terrestrial plants depend on specific fungi (mycorrhiza).
  • Many fungi are an important food source fo Australian animals, with at least 38 species of mammals known to eat the fruiting bodies of fungi. Some species, such as bettongs and pottoroos, eat little else.
  • Fungi reproduce by releasing clouds of powder-like spores from their fruiting bodies. A field mushroom can release 200 million spores in a single hour. Puffballs can produce 15 trillion spores from each fruiting body.
  • Some fungi are pathogenic, causing disease and the death of various species. However, in nature, this helps to makwe room in ecosystems which new species can fill.
  • Many fungi are decomposers, releaseing nutrients by breaking down dead plants and animals — a vital part of forest ntrient cycles.
  • A fungus is usually largely out of sight, with only the fruiting bosy exposed to view. The remainder, thin threads called mycelium, is underground or webbed throiugh soft, rotting, wood.

Australian fungi websites:

Ghost Fungus

Last month good mate and local guru of all things of the bush Rod Hobson alerted me to the presence of some Ghost Fungi on the Toowoomba escarpment.

Says Rod, “I was walking the mutt around the base of Picnic Point this afternoon when I came upon several large clusters of a fungus growing along an old fallen and decaying eucalypt trunk. Although they were of a fairly nondescript appearance they reminded me of the Ghost Fungus (Omphalotus nidiformis) that I was familiar with from the rainforest around Central Station on Fraser Island. This species is very interesting as, at night, it glows with a very conspicuous greenish-white luminescence, which belies its drab diurnal appearance.”

They were indeed Ghost Fungi, and having been all over the place lately capturing images of local fungi, I was keen to get some shots of these. I accompanied Rod that afternoon to photograph the Ghost Fungi in the daylight (first image, left), then returned that night and took some ten-minute exposures (first image, right, and second image). I’m glad I did, as Rod reported that they were pretty much dead, and all out of their mysterious green light, within the next two days.

Guardian article 2017.

The Ghost Fungi during the day (left), and quietly glowing at night (right).

The Ghost Fungus is a saprophyte. The luminescence is caused by a chemical reaction between enzymes in the fungus and oxygen. It’s widely distributed, being known from coastal and subcoastal areas of southern Queensland, New South Wales, Victoria and South Australia, and is also found in Tasmania and the south-west corner of Western Australia. (info courtesy Rod Hobson)