Woodlice are known by many common names (depending on region.) All woodlice are crustaceans, and they form the suborder Oniscide within the order Isopoda. Woodlice within the genus Armadillidiidae are probably among the most recognized, as they’re the ones who can roll themselves into a neat, little (often shiny) sphere. They are the only woodlouse species boasting such an adaptation. Though largely defensive, their ball-rolling behavior also serves to maintain moisture—commonly lost through respiration and various environmental factors such as heat and light. Armadillidium vulgare is the most abundant species in Europe and has been expatriated to nearly every landmass on the planet earth. Quite a sizable population lives in a particular truck yard on the south side of Chicago, along with two dogs (with matching flea collars,) a few yellowjacket colonies, and fluctuating populations of grasshoppers. Because of the abnormally rainy weather we’ve been having recently, they’re a far more overt presence than they’ve been in the past. Unlike insects and spiders, woodlice don’t possess a waxy cuticle that keeps moisture locked in (rather like a Ziploc baggie) and so environmental conditions factor more heavily in a woodlouse life. They breathe through a pair of modified lungs (pseudotrachea) that must remain moist in order to function. Females of the species often brood hundreds of eggs in a pocket with an impressive scientific name. Though it’s quite easy to simply call a woodlouse brood pocket a “brood pocket” scientists have decided to use a far more impressive name. I rather like “brood pocket,” though I have no problem with the official name of “marsupium.” I do wonder, however, who comes up with these names. Marsupium sounds like something an alien race would mine in Gene Roddenberry’s Star Trek universe. But then, if you put the suffix “ium” on the end of virtually anything, then it sounds like a rare and valuable element miners search for in science fiction novels or television shows. I have yet to write a story in which “absurdium” is a valuable element…and who knows, maybe I’ll do it soon. Or not. At any rate, all tangents aside, the marsupium must be kept moist in order for it to function. In general, female woodlice brood two sets of eggs per summer. I found this specimen in the aforementioned truck yard. I’d gone in search of things to photograph, realizing that with the moisture in the air (it felt as if I was breathing the underside of a wet dog) I realized that there’d be woodlice about. I found many, and this was—by far—the largest and most impressive. I found this one ambling in the shade under a particularly inoperable truck. I was amazed at the sheer size of this critter, and the fact that he wore the tatters of dandelion fluff on his segments. Before brushing the creature off, I nabbed this shot, amazed that I managed such a shot. Rarely do woodlice remain still (or slow moving) long enough to get a good macro, but this one didn’t seem to care that I’d approached, and to be fair, I did approach rather softly, careful not to disturb any of the shadows in the area. This is also one of the woodlice to enjoy a nice meal of lettuce I left in exchange for a few shots. This shot is a first for me in that it shows many of the features of a woodlouse face (and tatters of dandelion seed debris.) Admittedly, much of the face is still obscured, but on full zoom, it's possible to see the almost "beak like" mandibles...if you really look hard. Of course this also depends on how intimate you might want to get with a woodlouse face. For me, they're cute in that sort of cuddly-crustacean way, but I'm sure that my definition of cute and cuddly also differs from the more popular definitions. As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting, and I hope you’re all having a great week.