Protozoa are commonly recognized as unicellular eukaryotic organisms; in short, they’re composed of a single cell that is divided into individual, distinct parts. Prokaryotic organisms, most notably bacteria, don’t contain internal divisions. Internally, they’re a bit more squishy and indistinct. Eukaryotic organisms are equally squishy, but different levels of squishiness are kept separate. Organelles, such as the nucleus and various vacuoles are contained within distinct membranes and are kept all nice and comfy in their distinct spaces, so that they don’t get wet in the general very squishy cytoplasm of the cell. In short, protozoa are one step in the direction of complexity, which ultimately manifests itself in larger-than-microscopic life-forms that possess complex internal structures. Humans are such creatures. We’re as squishy as our ancient, unicellular ancestors and cousins, but we have distinct grades of softness ranging from the almost-firm squish of our guts to the rigid firmness of our bones, and the half-squishy/half-firm structure of our cartilage. I’ve been rather fond of protozoa since I first learned of their existence. I’m particularly fond of the ciliates and flagellates: indeed, there’s a protozoan post dedicated to the elegant, shaggy Paramecium earlier in my gallery. Paramecia are among life’s most under-recognized forms, though they do pop up in various illustrations intended to depict the weirdness of something otherworldly. If you were to go by the opening scenes of the Steven Speilberg version of War of the Worlds, you’d probably come to the conclusion that digital paramecia are the unwitting weapon used against the invading Martians. In terms of common knowledge about such creatures, that’s as far as things go. It’s such a shame, really. My love of protozoa (the non-parasitic sorts) is as recognizable as my love of insects. Life is a brilliant and complex thing, after all, and it’s the somewhat “distasteful” and somewhat “spooky” organisms that show just how perfectly amazing life is. It’s easy to like things that are “cute” even when such cuteness is deadly. Bears cannot distinguish between humans and dinner, and yet we don't hesitate to put “pretend”, plush bears in beds with our children…we can’t digest the food that we eat without a particular strain of e. coli bacteria, but in contemporary OCD-enhanced US-American culture, the very mention of esterechia coli is probably enough to dive anti-bacterial soap sales up 75% if this particular post were read aloud in a crowded Starbucks. I find that ironic. I find that strangely disturbing as well. This post isn’t about e.coli, however; it’s actually about an image of seed pods, tweaked to the point of…well…looking like something else. The protozoa accompanying this text are not protozoa at all. They’re Slippery Elm seeds, floating in water and enhanced with a small flashlight. The original image was of slippery elm seeds seen in normal room light (with flashlight enhancement) but as I downloaded the image from my camera, I saw just how…single-cellular these seeds looked, and so I inverted the colors, and came up with…well…odd ciliate (and possibly flagellate) life forms. It’s amazing what happens when you turn an image into its negative, and then fiddle around with it (I didn’t do much, aside from sharpening and enhancing various colors.) As to what species of protozoan these slippery elm seeds have become, I don’t know…probably some subgroup of paramecium with euglenoid characteristics, if those spikes are an indication of nearly invisible, but exceedingly long flagella. At any rate, here are three slippery elm seed pods…or three members of a newly-discovered species of unicellular ciliates. As always, thank you for viewing and reading, and commenting, and I hope to eventually catch up on posting, viewing, reading, and commenting myself.