Deep Look

What keeps the boneless, jawless hagfish thriving after more than 300 million years? SLIME. The goop it exudes – a mix of mucus and special protein cells– expands to 10,000 times its original volume in less than half a second, potentially clogging the gills of competitors.

Earthworms know a thing or two about romance. They cozy up with a mate inside tubes of slime, then follow a series of intricate steps to make cocoons full of baby worms.

Mussels create byssal threads, known as the mussel's "beard," to attach themselves both to rocks and to each other. They use their sensitive foot to mold the threads from scratch and apply a waterproof adhesive that makes superglue jealous.

How are frogs and toads so amazing at catching bugs? They smack ’em with a supersoft tongue covered in special spit, which flows into every nook and cranny of their target. Then, in less than a second, that spit transforms into a tacky glue, yanking the meal back into the toad’s maw.

Bird’s nest fungi look just like a tiny bird's nest. But those little eggs have no yolks. Each one is a spore sac waiting for a single raindrop to catapult it on a journey with a layover inside the bowels of an herbivore.

To us, a snake's forked tongue evokes danger and deceit. But the tongue's two sensitive tips, called tines, actually help the snake smell in stereo. That's bad news if you're a mouse ...

Gecko feet aren't covered in suction cups or Velcro. They don’t squirt glue, or leave any footprints. Their secret is a herculean amount of grip -- at the atomic scale. A gecko’s toes are covered in tiny hairs that branch out into millions of microscopic, spatula-shaped pads. Those pads, called spatulae, get so close to the surfaces on which a gecko moves, the electrons of the spatulae and those on the surface start to sync up. That dance is called Van der Waals force, and it’s what gives geckos their sticking power.

Step right up to see tiny springtails spin through the air with the greatest of ease! In ponds and streams, they skyrocket out of the reach of hungry insects like water striders by slapping a tail-like appendage against the water. And you won’t believe how they stick the landing.

Most of the sea snails in this tide pool cruise around searching for food. But not the scaled wormsnail. It cements its shell to a rock and snags its meals using the one thing a snail has plenty of: mucus!

A “bee fly” looks a bit like a bee, but it’s a freeloader that takes advantage of a bindweed turret bee’s hard work. The bees dig underground nests and fill them with pollen they collect in the form of stylish “pollen pants.” As the bees are toiling on their nests, the flies drop their own eggs into them. But the bees employ a tricky defense against the flies.

Covered in a shiny bubble, the alkali fly scuba dives into the harsh waters of California's Mono Lake. Thanks to an abundance of hair and water-repellent wax, this remarkable insect remains dry while embarking on a quest for tasty algae and a place to lay its eggs.

Do cockroaches -- those daring, disgusting disease vectors -- have anything at all to offer us? Scientists think so. They compressed American roaches with a hydraulic press, subjecting them to the force of 900 times their body weight. Don't worry (or do): They survived! How exactly do they do it?

Ladybugs may be the cutest insects around, but they don't start off that way.| Also called lady beetles or ladybirds, they pop out of their eggs as prickly mini-monsters with an insatiable hunger for aphids. Once they've bulked up, they transform, shedding their terrifying looks, but keeping their killer vibes.

Every year, up to half the honeybee colonies in the U.S. die. Varroa mites, the bees’ ghastly parasites, are one of the main culprits. After hitching a ride into a hive, a mite mom hides in a honeycomb cell, where she and her offspring feed on a growing bee. But beekeepers and scientists are helping honeybees fight back.

This fuzzy acorn weevil can’t crack open acorns like a woodpecker or chomp through them like a squirrel. Instead, she uses her incredibly long snout, called a rostrum, to power-drill through an acorn’s tough and resilient shell. And it's not just lunch on her mind – she's also making a nursery for her babies.

When grown-up jellyfish love each other very much, they make huge numbers of teeny-tiny potato-shaped larvae. Those larvae grow into little polyps that cling to rocks and catch prey with their stinging tentacles. But their best trick is when they clone themselves by morphing into a stack of squirming jellyfish pancakes.