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Visual Ecology
Visual Ecology
Visual Ecology
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Visual Ecology

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A comprehensive treatment of visual ecology

Visual ecology is the study of how animals use visual systems to meet their ecological needs, how these systems have evolved, and how they are specialized for particular visual tasks. Visual Ecology provides the first up-to-date synthesis of the field to appear in more than three decades. Featuring some 225 illustrations, including more than 140 in color, spread throughout the text, this comprehensive and accessible book begins by discussing the basic properties of light and the optical environment. It then looks at how photoreceptors intercept light and convert it to usable biological signals, how the pigments and cells of vision vary among animals, and how the properties of these components affect a given receptor's sensitivity to light. The book goes on to examine how eyes and photoreceptors become specialized for an array of visual tasks, such as navigation, evading prey, mate choice, and communication.

A timely and much-needed resource for students and researchers alike, Visual Ecology also includes a glossary and a wealth of examples drawn from the full diversity of visual systems.

  • The most up-to-date overview of visual ecology available
  • Features some 225 illustrations, including more than 140 in color, spread throughout the text
  • Guides readers from the basic physics of light to the role of visual systems in animal behavior
  • Includes a glossary and a wealth of real-world examples
LanguageEnglish
Release dateAug 10, 2014
ISBN9781400853021
Visual Ecology

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    Book preview

    Visual Ecology - Thomas W. Cronin

    Visual Ecology

    Visual Ecology

    Thomas W. Cronin, Sönke Johnsen,

    N. Justin Marshall, and Eric J. Warrant

    PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS PRINCETON AND OXFORD

    Copyright © 2014 by Princeton University Press

    Published by Princeton University Press, 41 William Street, Princeton, New Jersey 08540

    In the United Kingdom: Princeton University Press, 6 Oxford Street, Woodstock, Oxfordshire OX20 1TW

    press.princeton.edu

    Photograph of robber fly (Holcocephala sp.) © Thomas Shahan

    All Rights Reserved

    Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

    Cronin, Thomas W., 1945–

        Visual ecology / Thomas W. Cronin, Sonke Johnsen, N. Justin Marshall, and Eric J. Warrant.

             pages cm

        Includes bibliographical references and index.

        ISBN 978-0-691-15184-7 (hardcover)

        1. Vision. 2. Animal ecology. 3. Physiology, Comparative. 4. Eye—Evolution. I. Title.

        QP475.C76 2014

        612.8'4—dc23

    2014002359

    British Library Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available

    This book has been composed in Minion Pro

    Printed on acid-free paper. ∞

    Printed in the United States of America

    1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

    To John Lythgoe and William Mac McFarland,

    two greatly missed pioneers in visual ecology

    Contents

    List of Illustrations    ix

    Preface    xix

    1       Introduction    1

    2       Light and the Optical Environment    10

    3       Visual Pigments and Photoreceptors    37

    4       The Optical Building Blocks of Eyes    66

    5       The Eye Designs of the Animal Kingdom    91

    6       Spatial Vision    116

    7       Color Vision    146

    8       Polarization Vision    178

    9       Vision in Attenuating Media    206

    10     Motion Vision and Eye Movements    232

    11     Vision in Dim Light    262

    12     Visual Orientation and Navigation    289

    13     Signals and Camouflage    313

    Glossary    345

    References    355

    General Index    383

    Index of Names    401

    Illustrations

    Preface

    We humans are visual creatures. We are also introspective and curious, a combination that makes us all by nature amateur visual ecologists (even if we don’t know it). Because our world is dominated by visual sensations, we naturally wonder how other animals see their particular worlds. When a cat is entranced by images of fish on a television screen, does it see their colors? Does it think they are real fish? What is it experiencing? When a wasp flies up and stares us in the face, just what is it seeing? These questions have probably been asked for as long as our species has been around. The third-century Roman philosopher Plotinus stated the fundamental principle of visual ecology nearly two millennia ago: To any vision must be brought an eye adapted to what is to be seen, and bearing some likeness to it.

    Still, the study of visual ecology didn’t come into its own until near the end of the twentieth century. Researchers such as John Lythgoe in England and Bill Mac McFarland in the United States, to whom we have dedicated this book, first used the term visual ecology to describe their research on animal visual systems in nature. In 1979, Lythgoe published a smallish book titled The Ecology of Vision. The book introduced a new way of thinking about animal vision, relating the huge evolutionary diversity of visual systems to the environments inhabited by particular animals. Lythgoe presented unifying principles that involved several fields—visual optics, environmental radiometry, retinal physiology, visual aspects of behavior, and numerous others—that had historically been considered as separate.

    Lythgoe, McFarland, and a few others like them made up the scientific generation who seeded the field, and the authors of this book were inspired as graduate students and young scientists by their elegant work and their personal charm. The four of us typify the field. We’re international. Our home laboratories are in the United States, Sweden, and Australia, but we all consider the planet our field site and the animal kingdom our model organism. We spend time on ships, in woods and rainforests, in deserts, and in marshes, muddy waters, and coral reefs; we work in daylight, moonlight, starlight, and in the black depths of the world’s oceans; our field sites cover six of the seven continents (and we envy the lucky few visual ecologists who have made it to Antarctica!).

    Perhaps most importantly for the writing of this book, we are friends. We have known each other for decades, visited each other’s home laboratories and actual homes, worked on the same teams in the field, published together, attended international meetings together, and shared long evenings in bars. Again characterizing the field as a whole, we really enjoy each other’s company, and despite our natural competitiveness as scientists, we readily share our ideas, data, and students. We like each other, and that has gotten us through the difficulties that necessarily arise in a multiauthor project such as writing a book like this. We got a lot of pleasure out of just sitting back in an armchair to read each other’s contributions—and equally much pleasure from constructively criticizing them!

    Naturally, an effort like this involves many, many more souls than just the four of us. Laura Bagge, Jamie Baldwin, Nicholas Brandley, Mike Bok, Karen Carleton, Jon Cohen, Kate Feller, Yakir Gagnon, Alex Gunderson, Elizabeth Knowlton, Dan Speiser, Cynthia Tedore, Kate Thomas, and Jochen Zeil read our chapter drafts. Tammy Frank, Ron Douglas, and an anonymous reviewer read and critiqued the entire manuscript. Judy Rubin contributed to the artwork, and we benefited from the graphic and photographic contributions of dozens of colleagues and associates. The team at Princeton University Press, especially our senior editor Alison Kalett, our editorial associate Quinn Fusting, and our production editor Karen Carter helped keep us on track and calmly sorted our differences of opinion when they inevitably arose. The entire manuscript was expertly and thoroughly copyedited by Elissa Schiff. Our graduate students and the other members of our laboratories kept us motivated with their own curiosity, their drive to carry the field forward, and their interest in seeing the final product of our labors. We are particularly indebted to Marie Dacke, Almut Kelber, Mike Land, Ellis Loew, Dan-Eric Nilsson, David O’Carroll, Jack Pettigrew, David Vaney, Rüdiger Wehner, and Jochen Zeil for their inspiration and encouragement. Most of all, we thank our wives, Roselind, Lynn, Sue, and Sara, for support throughout the project. None of them card-carrying visual ecologists, they nevertheless stuck with us as we wrote this book and gracefully put up with our global wanderings and consuming passion for science.

    Visual Ecology

    1

    Introduction

    A tiny fruit fly, hardly bigger than a speck of dust, drifts along the edge of a pond in the morning sunlight, keeping a constant course and height through the unpredictable buffeting of the morning breeze. Despite its minuscule size, its silhouette against the empty sky has betrayed the fly’s passage to an alert predator. A dragonfly perched on the pond side rises in a buzz of wings, aims to intersect the fruit fly’s path, and plucks it from the air in a graceful upward swoop. Returning to its perch to enjoy its catch, the dragonfly is spotted by a hovering kestrel far above; with a blur of motion, the kestrel snatches up the dragonfly and carries it to her home not far away. As the mother kestrel settles onto the edge of her nest, two tiny babies greet her arrival by stretching their necks upward. Tempted by her nestlings’ colorful, bobbing mouths, she tears up their breakfast and shoves a piece into each one.

    Each of these creatures was guided by its eyes as it carried out its accustomed behaviors—the fruit fly heading steadily toward its chosen destination; the dragonfly as it sighted the fly, computed its course, and snatched it from the sky; the kestrel as it picked out the dragonfly against the tangle of pondside vegetation and unerringly plucked it from its perch; the nestlings as they spotted their mother’s familiar shape descending from the sky; and the kestrel again as it responded to their irresistible opened mouths. Each animal’s eyes allowed it to execute the behavior necessary for its survival (although, admittedly, not all survived this quiet morning). How do these various visual systems function? How is it that the fruit fly was so beautifully adapted for visual control of flight in air that buffeted its minuscule body? What allowed the dragonfly to see such a tiny spot in the sky, to recognize it as nearby prey and not a bird passing far above, and to derive the geometry required to intercept it? How could the kestrel see a blue, toothpick-sized form against masses of green vegetation from so far above? Why were its babies’ mouths so attractive? For that matter, how was it that the fruit fly never spotted the approaching dragonfly, and what allowed the dragonfly to see the speck of a passing fly while missing the predatory stoop of the kestrel? These are the kinds of questions that are addressed in the field of visual ecology.

    Visual Ecology Defined

    Visual ecology can be broadly defined as the study of how visual systems function to meet the ecological needs of animals, how they have evolved for proper function, and how they are specialized for and involved in particular visual tasks. Researchers who work at various levels of inquiry, from genes to behavior, call themselves visual ecologists, but all are primarily concerned with how animals use vision for natural tasks and behaviors. Although the outcomes of visual ecological research may well have implications for health or may be applicable for use in engineering or technology, the research itself centers on the animal of interest and on how it employs its visual system to meet its own ecological needs. A researcher who studies the retinas of squirrel monkeys to learn more about human visual physiology is not a visual ecologist; one who does nearly identical research to learn how the monkeys discriminate ripe from unripe fruit is. Thus, the kinds of questions that spark visual ecological research are some of the oldest in biology, some predating even the earliest science: How can predators sight prey at times when humans are essentially blind? Does my dog (or horse, or cat) see color? Do seals see equally well both underwater and on the shore? And many others that readers have probably asked themselves about vision in other animals.

    A particularly beautiful (literally so) illustration of how an artist’s sensitive eye registers principles of visual ecology is seen in the Japanese cloisonné vase in figure 1.1. The artist, Yoshitaro Hayakawa, has created a convincing underwater scene, with the viewer just a short distance from the sunfish that seems to float only millimeters beneath the vase’s surface. The fish’s colors, patterned no doubt for communication with its conspecifics, are brilliant; they stand out in contrast to the water itself. A second fish, only slightly further away, has lost some of its brilliancy and clarity but still is well defined and colorful. The third fish (at the right margin of the vase) is almost lost in the underwater haze, fading into the background. Only the red on the posterior edge of its dorsal fin remains to signal what kind of fish it might be. Here we see clearly how water absorbs the colors of objects viewed through it, simultaneously hiding them in a veil of light scattered into the viewing path. This is not all that has captured the artist’s attention. The water near the surface is brightly lit with white light, but as the depth increases, the water’s color changes continuously to a rich blue-green. The plants and rocks on the bottom are bluish or a muddy green, as the extremes of the spectrum have been filtered away by the colored waters inhabited by the fish. As with the distant fish, absorption and multiple-path scattering have obscured the colors and details of the background objects. Hayakawa was clearly a keen observer of nature; one suspects that he would have made an excellent visual ecologist. Many of the principles we will be visiting in this book are seen in this one lovely object: properties of light in natural environments, color vision in animals and its relationship to signaling, and the ability both to signal and to hide using the same color palette.

    Figure 1.1 Cloisonné vase with sunfish, made using gold wire and enamels. The artist is Yoshitaro Hayakawa, Ando Cloisonne Company, Japan, 1910. (Stephen W. Fisher collection. Photographed by J. Dean, johndeanphoto.com, used with permission)

    To illustrate visual ecological thinking in a slightly more scientific framework, consider a biological question that concerns vision (see the illustration in figure 1.2). All songbirds have excellent color vision—far better than our color sense—based on a complicated set of photoreceptors coupled to oil-droplet filters. Surprisingly, despite their radically different appearances and plumage, all these birds have nearly identical color vision. A visual physiologist would be interested in the receptor properties, the wiring of the birds’ retinas, how the color information is processed, and other functional issues. At another extreme, a behavioral biologist might study what aspects of the color patterns or sexual displays of males make them desirable to females. Visual ecologists would certainly be interested in knowing these things as well, but their focus would be on how the visual systems of songbirds fit generally into the birds’ needs. Are photoreceptor sets, similar across species, adaptive for high-quality color vision in the habitats occupied by songbirds, or are they in some way limited by the plumage colors that songbirds have? In other words, is the color vision of songbirds an evolutionary product of their light environments, or has it evolved for the requirements of signaling? Do birds choose to display their plumage at particular times of day, or in particular locations, where lighting makes their color patterns most visible? Do male birds arrange their displays to be seen from a particular vantage point? Do they choose backgrounds that enhance these colors?

    To answer questions such as these, measurements are needed of the environmental light at times of interest or biological significance, the properties of the color receptors themselves, the ways in which the plumage, background, and possibly even entire environmental scenes reflect light. Depending on the scope of the research, the visual ecologist might also consider the optics of the birds’ eyes and their specializations to function at particular light levels (in the case of songbirds, perhaps in the open vs. under forest canopy), and possibly even to the optics of feather reflectivity and color production. Any single visual ecological study might not include all these questions, but these (and many others with regard to songbird vision) all lie within the purview of the field. The unifying principle is that all these are components of the natural visual tasks in which songbirds are engaged and that the research focus is on what the animals actually require from, and can achieve with, their visual systems.

    Figure 1.2 Female cardinal evaluating a male in sunlight, against natural foliage. White dashed lines indicate the natural illumination, the red ones the light reflected from the cardinal, and the green ones the light from the foliage. The female must discriminate the male from the background and evaluate the color and quality of his plumage using the color-vision system present in her eye. (Illustration by E. Cronin)

    Eyes and Their Evolution

    The ability to sense the presence of light dates back to some of the earliest forms of life on Earth, but it took most of the history of life thereafter to evolve truly functional visual systems capable of imaging scenes and objects and of providing timely information about changes in the visual surround. The first recognizable eyes appear in the fossil record in the Cambrian, some half-billion years ago; incredibly, these are already well-developed compound eyes, not terribly different from eyes functional in some animals today (figure 1.3). Equally impressive is the discovery of fossils showing that highly complex eyes in an amazing diversity of animals appeared within a few millions or tens of millions of years of evolution. In fact, it has been argued that the appearance of the first truly competent eyes acted as a catalyst for rapid animal evolution and diversification (see Parker, 1998; Land and Nilsson, 2012). The rise of high-quality vision enabled animals to remain well oriented during travel at high speed and opened up a new world of long-distance animal interactions via predation, predator evasion, and communication. Unfortunately, until time machines become available to researchers, hypotheses about the visual ecology of these animals must remain untested, although comparing them with modern species having similar body plans and inhabiting analogous environments is fruitful for speculation.

    Figure 1.3 Fossilized compound eyes of two trilobite species, Bojoscutellum edwardsii (Barrande) (A,C) and Eophacops trapeziceps (Barrande) (B,D), showing dorsal (A,B) and lateral (C,D) views. These eyes were fossilized approximately 450–500 million years ago but show many features of modern compound eyes. (Photographs by E. Clarkson)

    In recent years, due to the availability of ever more efficient molecular approaches and tools for examining animal phylogenies, there has been an explosion of interest in the evolution of eyes and photoreceptors. This book is not about visual evolution, but visual ecologists are intensely interested in how eyes became mated to their ecological and behavioral functions, and simultaneously, how they are limited by the constraints of their ancestry. But here in the Introduction, it is worth taking a look at how the functions and adaptations discussed in this book might have come into being. Nilsson (2009) has convincingly argued that eyes evolved through a series of four discrete stages, each characterized by a particular task related to photoreception, ultimately leading to high-quality vision. Advances in the underlying biological technology enabled each leap to the next, more competent stage (figure 1.4). According to Nilsson, once a reasonable way to detect light appeared, living organisms immediately gained a way to measure time of day, day length, depth, the passage of a shadow, and other highly adaptive abilities. Adding directionality and then low-resolution vision and ultimately high-resolution vision placed ever-higher demands on the light-sensing machinery, including improved ways to get enough light into the photosensing cells to provide a useful signal. Nilsson’s (2009) view of vision advancing through a series of steps, each permitting a major step in sensory capability, has much to offer. It has the additional utility of providing a view of visual evolution through adaptation for specific ecological functions.

    Figure 1.4 A view of visual evolution as a punctuate process, advancing through a series of steps that represent significant leaps in visual capabilities. Visual ecology has considered organisms at each of the four steps, but by far the greatest interest is in those that have reached the two final steps, where spatial vision comes into play. (After Nilsson, 2009)

    Themes in Visual Ecology

    In reading this book you will come to recognize recurring themes that appear in chapter after chapter. One has already been introduced—the significance of evolution, and evolutionary history, in shaping the ways in which animals use, and are even able to use, their visual systems. All of vision is united by reliance on a single class of protein molecules (discussed in detail in chapter 3). These are the opsins, clearly special because no visual system that has advanced beyond the very first of Nilsson’s stages uses any other molecular design for light reception. All opsins—in every seeing creature, from jellyfish to your favorite advanced animal—have descended from a common ancestral molecule, possibly some sort of melatonin receptor (figure 1.5). Today, they fall into specific opsin families, either three or four, depending on who is making the argument. Most animals have many opsins available in their genomes, generally of more than one family, and these are the film in the camera of vision. No visual ecologist ignores their properties!

    A second theme that recurs in many chapters is that of matched filters, an idea introduced by Rüdiger Wehner (1987) in a much-quoted essay in honor of the vision scientist Hansjochem Autrum’s 75th birthday. A matched filter is a sensory construct that serves as a reduced model of expected events or qualities in the outside world. Wehner’s original essay gave examples from several sensory systems, with vision getting the lion’s share. You will meet many examples of matched filters in eyes of animals in this book. Filters work by excluding information, and in doing so they simplify the analytical task required to analyze what is left. Filters also let things through, so a more positive view is that they admit just the things an animal needs to know. Rather than run through a series of examples now, we just encourage you to make your way into the book!

    Figure 1.5 Evolution of modern opsins. From an ancestor in the center of the circle, the opsins known today split into four families in this reconstructed phylogeny: C-opsins (used in vertebrate photoreceptors), Cnidops (in jellyfish), R-opsins (in major invertebrate groups such as arthropods and molluscs), and a hodgepodge group named group 4 opsins, which have many functions, most (but not all) not used in visual photoreception. OUTGRPS stands for the outgroups used to construct the phylogeny. (Figure prepared by M. Porter)

    An Overview of the Book

    The chapters in this book explore at increasing levels of inquiry the topics that are of interest in visual ecology today. We begin with the properties of light and the photic environment: the basic physics of light, including intensity, spectrum, and polarization; natural sources, distributions, and temporal features of light; how light is changed as it is absorbed and scattered by air or natural waters; the effects of natural structures and surfaces—including the surfaces of living things—on light’s properties; and ultimately the statistical features of the natural scenes that animals view. Light measurements are important to nearly every visual ecological topic because the photic features in the environments inhabited by a given animal species, and within which it behaves, define the limits of its sensory abilities and shape the possibilities for particular visual tasks. Light’s fundamental properties limit the performance of even perfect photochemical and optical systems, but its variation among habitats permits species to specialize and thereby outperform their competitors, predators, or prey.

    We proceed to consider these photochemical and optical systems in the next three chapters, discussing how photoreceptors intercept light and convert it to a usable biological signal, how the pigments and cells of vision vary among animals, and how the properties of these components affect a given receptor’s sensitivity to light’s intensity, spectrum, and polarization. Eyes consist of photoreceptor arrays that capture and transduce light, but the performance of these receptor surfaces is ultimately determined by the optics of the eyes within which they are found. These chapters provide the foundation for the rest of the book, which examines how eyes and photo receptors become specialized for an enormous diversity of visual tasks and how various species excel in some ecologically appropriate subsets of all these possibilities. These specializations and tasks are considered at mounting levels of integration throughout the rest of the book, moving in the next three chapters through design-based processes such as spatial, color, and polarization vision. The final five chapters of the book tackle higher-level aspects of visual ecological concerns: motion vision, seeing in attenuating media, dim-light vision, visual orientation, and ultimately communicating with other animals. As the book proceeds, we revisit the animals introduced in the first paragraph of this chapter (and many other fascinating creatures) to examine how their vision enables—and limits—their behavior.

    Because humans are such visual animals, it is very difficult to escape thinking of animal vision in human terms. The reader must resist this temptation, as it is nearly always thoroughly misleading. Humans evolved from primate ancestors with a very specialized set of visual needs, and like all primates humans devote a disproportionate fraction of their central nervous processing capacity to visual analysis. Human vision met the needs of our ancestors, but it is only one of a literal infinity of possible solutions of how an animal might see; in fact today, in the days of virtual reality, three-dimensional cinema, and heads-up displays in our machines, it is easy to forget that what we give ourselves to see is specifically designed (by us!) to be processed by our visual systems. We see increasingly artificial scenery. The visual worlds of animals are fundamentally different. More important, they are interpreted by alien modes of processing that are barely analogous to our intuitive concepts of vision. As the reader progresses through this book or just samples its contents, he or she should always bear in mind that the sensory world of each species is unique and that it is risky, and almost always misleading, to make analogies to human visual experience.

    Given all that has just been said, perhaps it is just as well that we have not yet even attempted a definition of vision! There are many kinds of photoreceptors, and many organs that are clearly eyes of some sort, that sense light levels and their changes but provide at best a very rudimentary sense of space or visual scenes. For the purposes of this book, a visual sense must provide both spatial and temporal information at rates fast enough to enable complex behavior beyond such simple activities as photoperiodism or circadian timing. There is no clear line at which complex behavior begins, of course, but we are here mostly concerned with those controlled through the input into two (occasionally one) usually anterior visual organs connected to a discrete neural center in what is clearly a brain. With this as a tentative definition of vision, we now proceed to consider the field of visual ecology.

    2

    Light and the Optical Environment

    You are about to take your dive in a submersible. Yesterday, the ship left port in a brackish lagoon on the Florida coast. There, the water was first brown and opaque, like chocolate milk, then green and clear like an aquarium that had not been cleaned in months. The weather was beautiful with a sun too bright to look at and a sky that was deep blue overhead and a paler blue near the horizon. Today, the water is an astonishing and pure shade of blue, with glints of white sunlight at the edges of the waves. The submersible dips below the surface, and the light becomes far more even. In fact, this is the most featureless environment that you have ever encountered. Ahead, the water is bright and blue. Overhead, the light is white, with some portions of the underside of the sea surface appearing mirrored. Underneath the submersible, the light is violet-blue, with shifting beams of brighter light that seem to radiate from a point directly below. As the submersible descends, the water slowly becomes dimmer and bluer, and the objects inside the passenger sphere slowly lose their colors. The first color to go is the red shirt of the pilot, which now looks black. Then the orange seat cushions go brown, and a yellow camera strap turns gray. Finally, the green lettuce on the sandwich you brought with you also turns grayish blue, and the only remaining nonblue objects are the red indicator LEDs inside the submersible. About 20 minutes after that, you notice that the submersible is descending into blackness, and the only light, which is now dim and gray, is directly overhead. Soon this vanishes, and you are surrounded by flashes of blue light, which appear to be made by objects impacting the sphere as it descends. Some flashes are small and brief, but others are large and frankly messy, much like a glowing pudding being smeared against the window. The submersible stops descending and all the flashing lights stop. The pilot turns off the indicator lights, leaving you in profound darkness.

    After many hours of work at depth (with floodlights), the submersible resurfaces right before sunset. The sun at the horizon is a deep orange-red, and the sky is a riot of colors, ranging from blue to magenta to what can only be called a golden pink. About 20 minutes after the sun sets, the only color remaining in the sky is an extremely pure blue, bordering on purple. Twenty minutes after that, the sky is dark gray and filled with stars and the Milky Way. You cannot discern it but are told by a fellow crew member that the dim gray light between the stars is actually greenish, and the Milky Way is full of uncounted numbers of red dwarf stars. Later, the moon rises and everything takes on a much brighter silvery sheen. The moon is close to full, and there is enough light to do just about anything except read. The same know-it-all crew member mentions that the sky is now actually just as blue as the daytime sky, though a million times dimmer. The day ends with the arrival of a thunderstorm, which sends down bolt after bolt of purplish-white lightning into the dark sky.

    Figure 2.1 The elephant hawkmoth (Deilephila elpenor) as viewed during late twilight (A) and on a moonless night (B), showing the extreme chromatic changes that can occur within 30 minutes (images are set to have roughly the same average brightness). Note that the illumination on a moonless night is far warmer than that during late twilight due to the dominance of reddish stars rather than blue sky (see Johnsen et al., 2006, for details).

    Humans, and nearly all animals on Earth, witness astonishing variation in their optical environment. Brightness changes by many orders of magnitude each day, and colors also shift dramatically (figure 2.1). Those animals that enter forests and especially the water experience even larger changes. Given this, it is surprising that nearly all the natural light on Earth ultimately comes from two sources, the sun and bioluminescence. This chapter describes how these two sources (and a few minor players) light our world.

    Light and Its Measurement

    Before we can discuss the optical environment we first need to answer some questions and define some terms.

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