A little while ago my department (having recently moved into a new office) had a "get to know you" afternoon tea with the members of the other offices on our floor of the building.
Over warm drinks and homemade cakes a few of us did some team building through paper craft, courtesy of educational resources brought over by visiting Japanese colleagues. I made a water flea, Daphnia sp. In Japan, the activity is used to show children that the tiny planktonic crustacean they can view flat on a microscope slide is actually a 3-dimensional creature.
About a week after that afternoon tea I was out visiting the micrarium at Grant Museum of Zoology, and from the hundreds of back-lit slides of microscopic organisms on show, I spotted a water flea!
My paper craft water flea (L), and the water flea slide in the Grant Museum micrarium (R).
Then (in a nod to the rule of three principle) while reading Richard Fortey's book Dry Store Room No. 1, I came across this little snippet about the naming of species. The passage resonated with me, as well as being interesting in its own right, so I thought I would share it with you:
A whole dictionary of gods, goddesses, nymphs and satyrs has been recruited to label the natural world.
Daphne is a flowering shrub, Daphnia is a water flea; Daphne herself was a water nymph pursued by Apollo, who changed into a bay laurel tree.
The bay itself is Laurus nobilis, "noble" because the aromatic leaves were used to crown the brows of heroes.
Daphne mezereum, from Carl Lindman's Bilder ur Nordens Flora (Pictures of Northern Flora), 1905 (L), and Apollo and Daphne by Antonio Pollaiuolo, painted in the late 1400s (R).
So that is how a flower is like a water flea - they are both named after the Greek nymph, or naiad, Daphne, thanks to the nomenclature convention of taking species names from Latin and Greek classics.