Botany

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On the Origins of Agriculture

This is the first in a series of posts reviewing the 17 articles found in the October 2014 Special Issue of American Journal of Botany, Speaking of Food: Connecting Basic and Applied Science.

Agricultural Origins from the Ground Up: Archaeological Approaches to Plant Domestication by BrieAnna S. Langlie, Natalie G. Mueller, Robert N. Spengler, and Gayle J. Fritz

Concern about food and the environment has been on the rise for a while now. Interest in healthy food grown and produced in a responsible manner has prompted people to investigate where their food is coming from. Archaeologists studying plant domestication and the rise of agriculture are also concerned with where our food came from; however, their research efforts are more focused on prehistoric events rather than on what is being stocked on today’s grocery store shelves.

The authors of this paper, all archaeologists specializing in paleoethnobotany or archaeobotany, offer a broad overview of the study of plant domestication and the emergence of agricultural economies. In their studies the authors “treat domestication as a process that originally preceded the formation of agricultural economies” and they define domestication as “genetic and morphological changes [in] a plant population in response to selective pressures imposed by cultivation.”

The first section of the paper explains why certain theoretical approaches to thinking about early plant domestication should be revised. These approaches include a centric view of plant domestication, single domestication trajectories, rapid pace plant domestication, and domestication being coupled with the development of agricultural economies.

The concept of centers of origin refers to specific regions in the world where the majority of crop domestication is thought to have occurred. Often these are regions where a high number of wild relatives of crops are found and where large civilizations emerged. But research has revealed numerous locations in various parts of the world where crop domestication occurred independently from traditional centers of origin leading archaeologists to further explore a noncentric view of domestication.

Related to the centers of origin debate is the single vs. multiple domestications debate. Single site domestication refers to a plant being domesticated in one location and then spread to other locations. Multiple site domestication refers to the same plant being domesticated in multiple sites independently. With the aid of genetic research, crops that were once thought to have been domesticated in a single region and then disseminated to other regions are now being shown to have multiple domestication sites. For example, it has been suggested that barley was domesticated independently in various locations, including the western Mediterranean region, Ethiopia, Morocco, and Tibet, as well as various parts of Southwest Asia.

Barley - Hordeum vulgare (photo credit: Wikimedia commons)

Barley – Hordeum vulgare (photo credit: wikimedia commons)

Concerning the pace of crop domestication, “many scholars have presented evidence that domestication was slower and more gradual than previously envisioned” probably because the first domesticated crop plants were not “developed by plant breeders with clear end products in mind.” On this point, the authors conclude that debates over timelines are “likely to continue for some time,” and that “close communication between geneticists and archaeologists, including those with archaeobotanical expertise” will be necessary to tell the full story.

Domestication is typically viewed as a precursor to agriculture. But the authors point out that domestication occurred first and that agriculture did not immediately follow. To illustrate this point, they tell the story of the bottle gourd (Lagenaria siceraria), possibly the oldest domesticated plant. Native to Africa, the gourds likely floated across the Atlantic Ocean to the Americas (they also made their way to East Asia and other places) where they were domesticated multiple times by various groups of people at least 10,000 years ago. The gourds had numerous potential uses including containers, rattles, net floats, and even food (the young, immature fruits are edible). Large gourds with thick rinds were preferred by early humans, and the seeds of these were planted. The plants needed little attention, so caring for them did not mean having to adopt a sedentary lifestyle. The authors conclude that “although this example might seem peripheral to the development of serious food-producing economies or social complexity, it highlights early, intimate plant-people relationships and the abilities of people to modify their environments to enhance availability of desirable resources.”

Bottle gourds (Lagenaria sicericia) were possibly the earliest domesticated plant species (photo credit: eol.org)

Bottle gourds (Lagenaria siceraria) were possibly the earliest domesticated plant species (photo credit: www.eol.org)

In the next section of the paper, the authors discuss new and improved methods being used today to “address questions about the timing, scale, and causes of domestication.” Narrowing down the dates that plants were first domesticated is a major interest of archaeologists, and advances in radiocarbon dating have assisted in this quest. When DNA is being extracted, it is important to know the age of the material being analyzed in order to better reveal its history. Combining several methods for analyzing the data – especially as these methods are improved and new methods are developed – is  crucial.

Advances in microscopy have helped to better analyze morphological changes in plants over time as well as to examine microfossils, like starch granules, pollen, and phytoliths (silica particles left behind after a plant decays). Observing phenotypic changes in fruits, seeds, and other plant parts and determining the presence of things like starch granules and pollen helps us to understand the pace and scope of domestication as well as to determine when certain domesticated plants were introduced to areas outside of their perceived center of origin. Advances in the science of taphonomy – “the study of decay processes following the death of an organism until it is fossilized or exhumed” – also aid researchers in better understanding the stories behind plant domestication.

Scanning electron microscope (SEM) image of pollen grains from common sunflower - Helianthus annuus (photo credit: Wikimedia commons)

Scanning electron microscope (SEM) image of pollen grains from common sunflower – Helianthus annuus (photo credit: wikimedia commons)

Working with experts in other areas of archaeology will also lead to greater understanding of plant domestication and the emergence of agricultural economies. The authors give examples of how studying human and animal bones can provide information about plant domestication and state that “other classes of archaeological data, such as household structure and storage features, agricultural and culinary tools, and soil morphology” will aid in better understanding “how and why domestication occurred as an historical and evolutionary process.”

Next the authors discuss anthropological views on the causes of plant domestication. One of the main debates among anthropologists when discussing agriculture is whether or not early humans were “pushed” or “pulled” into agricultural economies. Did increasing populations and/or decreasing availability of resources compel people to produce more of their own food or did human populations cultivate and domesticate plants in areas where resources were readily available, allowing them to live sedentary and stable existences? The authors conclude that “it is not necessary for one of these scenarios to explain all transitions to agriculture” as agriculture emerged independently in multiple locations around the globe, each time under its own specific set of circumstances.

The final section of the paper is a short discussion on the relatively under-researched topic of the diet and cuisine of ancient humans. Surely, a desire for particular foods and beverages lead to cultivation and domestication. The authors assert that “cuisines provide people with social identities, nationalism, spirituality, and a package of cognitive tools for coping with their environment. Without a doubt, culturally constructed food preferences played a role in the origins and spread of agriculture.”

This is a brief summary of a well-researched and detailed article concerning the fascinating topic of early plant domestication. Honestly, my synopsis hardly does it justice, so I urge you to read it for yourself if this topic interests you. I particularly appreciated the emphasis that the authors placed on using multiple methods and tools to collect and interpret data and how our perspectives should be revised as new and updated data emerge. The call for multiple disciplines to come together in collaboration to better understand the history of domestication and agriculture is also encouraging. In summation the authors state that “archaeological evidence indicates that every case of transition form hunter-gatherers to agricultural economies was unique … Identifying the specific nature of when, where, and how domestication occurred will undoubtedly elucidate how agriculture transformed the trajectory of human societies.”

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Speaking of Food: A Special Issue of American Journal of Botany

“At the center of discussions about agriculture and the future of food in a changing climate are the plants that we grow for food, fiber, and fuels and the science that is required to understand, improve, and conserve them.”

That is a line from the opening paragraph of the introduction to the October 2014 issue of American Journal of Botany, Speaking of Food: Connecting Basic and Applied Plant Science. In this Special Issue, the American Journal of Botany – inspired by Elizabeth Kellogg’s 2012 presidential address to the Botanical Society of America – endeavors to demonstrate ways in which basic plant biology research can benefit the applied science of agriculture, and how this “use-inspired” research can help address the challenges of feeding a growing population in a changing climate.

speaking of food_ajb

In its 100 year history, the American Journal of Botany, has published hundreds of papers that serve to advance agricultural and horticultural sciences. However, this connection has not always been made explicit. With this special issue, they are hoping to change that by “illustrat[ing] that ‘basic’ and ‘applied’ are not two discrete categories, nor are they even extremes of a linear continuum.” “Basic” research can be used to answer questions and solve “human-centered problems,” and “applied” research can “illuminate general biological principles.” When both approaches to scientific inquiry come together, everyone benefits.

I originally chose to study horticulture because I was interested in growing food in a sustainable and responsible manner. During my studies, I gained a greater interest in the broader field of horticulture as well as an interest in botany. After receiving a degree in horticultural and crop sciences, I decided to pursue a Master’s Degree. I wanted to study green roof technology, an applied science that incorporated my interests in both horticulture and sustainability. The school that I ended up going to did not have a horticulture program, so I enrolled in a biological sciences program. It was there, while doing applied science research on green roofs and taking mostly botany related science courses, that I deepened my love for science and began to see how basic science had applications, not just in horticulture and agriculture, but in all aspects of life.

That explains my great interest in this recent issue of American Journal of Botany, and why I was so excited when I heard about it. Using science to understand and address the challenges that we face today (challenges that, many of which, are a result of human activity) is intriguing to me. Based on my interest in horticulture, food production, and sustainability, establishing and advancing science-based sustainable agriculture is incredibly important to me. And so I have decided that, over the next several posts, I will provide reviews of each of the 17 articles in AJB’s Special Issue. Each post will offer a brief overview of one or more articles, outlining the basic premises and findings of each study. If your interest is peaked, and I hope it will be, you can go on to read more about each of the studies. The Introduction to this issue gives an excellent overview of the articles, so I won’t include that here. I’ll just dive right in. If you feel inclined, read ahead, otherwise stay tuned and I will preview you it all for you over the next several weeks.

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22 + Botanical Terms for Fruits

First off, let’s get one thing straight – tomatoes are fruits. Now that that is settled, guess what is also a fruit? This:

(photo credit: wikimedia commons)

(photo credit: wikimedia commons)

Yep. It’s a dandelion fluff. More accurately, it is a dandelion fruit with a pappus attached to it. Botanically speaking, a fruit is the seed-bearing, ripened ovary of a flowering plant. Other parts of the plant may be incorporated into the fruit, but the important distinction between fruits and other parts of a plant is that a seed or seeds are present. In fact, the purpose of fruits is to protect and distribute seeds. Which explains why tomatoes are fruits, right? (And, for that matter, the dandelion fluff as well.) So why the tired argument over whether or not a tomato is a fruit or a vegetable? This article may help explain that.

Before going into types of fruits, it may be important to understand some basic fruit anatomy. Pericarp is a term used to describe the tissues of a fruit surrounding the seed(s). It mainly refers to the wall of a ripened ovary, but it has also been used in reference to fruit tissues that are derived from other parts of the flower. Pericarps consist of three layers (although not all fruits have all layers): endocarp, mesocarp, and exocarp (also known as epicarp). The pericarps of true fruits consist of only ovarian tissue, while the pericarps of accessory fruits consist of other flower parts such as sepals, petals, receptacles, etc.

Fruits can be either fleshy or dry. Tomatoes are fleshy fruits, and dandelion fluffs are dry fruits. Dry fruits can be further broken down into dehiscent fruits and indehiscent fruits. Dehiscent fruits – like milkweeds and poppies – break open as they reach maturity, releasing the seeds. Indehiscent fruits – like sunflowers and maples – remain closed at maturity, and seeds remain contained until the outer tissues rot or are removed by some other agent.

Most fruits are simple fruits, fruits formed from a single ovary or fused ovaries. Compound fruits are formed in one of two ways. Separate carpels in a single flower can fuse to form a fruit, which is called an aggregate fruit; or all fruits in an inflorescence can fuse to form a single fruit, which is called a multiple fruit. A raspberry is an example of an aggregate fruit, and a pineapple is an example of a multiple fruit.

Additional terms used to describe fruit types:

Berry – A familiar term, berries are fleshy fruits with soft pericarp layers. Grapes, tomatoes, blueberries, and cranberries are examples of berries.

Pome – Pomes are similar to berries but have a leathery endocarp. Apples, pears, and quinces are examples of pomes. When you are eating an apple and you reach the “core,” you have reached the endocarp. Most – if not all – pomes are accessory fruits because they consist of parts of flowers in addition to the ovarian wall, such as – in the case of apples and pears – the receptacle.

Drupe – Drupes are also similar to berries but have hardened endocarps. Peaches, plums, cherries, and apricots are examples of drupes. A “pit” consists of a hardened endocarp and its enclosed seed.

Pepo – Pepos are also berry-like but have tough exocarps referred to as rinds. Pumpkins, melons, and cucumbers are examples of pepos.

Pumpkins are pepos.

Pumpkins are pepos.

Hesperidium – Another berry-like fruit but with a leathery exocarp. Oranges, lemons, and tangerines are examples of this type of fruit.

Caryopsis – An indehiscent fruit in which the seed coat fuses with the fruit wall and becomes nearly indistinguishable. Corn, oats, and wheat are examples of this type of fruit.

Achene – An indehiscent fruit in which the seed and the fruit wall do not fuse and remain distinguishable. Sunflowers and dandelions are examples of achenes.

Samara – An achene with wings attached. Maples, elms, and ashes all produce samaras. Remember as a kid finding maple fruits on the ground, throwing them into the air, and calling them “helicopters.” Those were samaras.

The fruits of red maple, Acer rubrum (photo credit: eol.org)

The fruits of red maple, Acer rubrum (photo credit: eol.org)

Nut – An indehiscent fruit in which the pericarp becomes hard at maturity. Hazelnuts, chestnuts, and acorns are examples of nuts.

Follicle – Dehiscent fruits that break apart on a single side. Milkweeds, peonies, and columbines are examples of follicles.

Legume – Dehiscent fruits that break apart on multiple sides. Beans and peas are examples of legumes.

Capsule – This term describes a number of dehiscent fruits. It differs from follicle and legume in that it is derived from multiple carpels. Capsules open in several ways, including along lines of fusion, between lines of fusion, into top and bottom halves, etc. The fruits of iris, poppy, and primrose are examples of capsules.

Poppy flower and fruit. Poppy fruits are called capsules.

Poppy flower and fruit. Poppy fruits are called capsules.

Flowers and fruits are key to identifying plants. Learning to recognize these structures will help you immensely when you want to know what you are looking at. And now that it is harvest season, you can impress your friends by calling fruits by their proper names. Pepo pie, anyone?

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Ethnobotany: Cinchona, Quinine, and Malaria

Most folks these days who enjoy a gin and tonic on a warm summer day probably aren’t stricken or threatened with malaria, but the first partakers of this popular cocktail were. Their drinks, however, had a much larger helping of one particular ingredient, quinine. SAMSUNG In the early 1600’s while exploring Peru, Jesuit missionaries from Spain were introduced to a tree, the bark of which could treat malaria. That tree was the cinchona tree. At that time malaria was a major issue in Europe, and so the Jesuits brought some cinchona bark back to Spain in hopes of saving some lives. The cinnamon-colored bark was administered by grinding it into a powder and serving it in sweetened water. This treatment became a big success and eventually spread throughout the continent. Exports of cinchona bark increased, much of which were coming from forests in the border region of Ecuador and Peru. Over time the cinchona bark (also called Jesuit’s bark and Peruvian bark) became less available, either due to overharvesting or because the Peruvians began to highly regulate its exportation. In order to fill the demand and ensure a steady supply, Dutch and British explorers established cinchona plantations in Southeast Asia.

Bark of Cinchona officinalis (photo credit: wikimedia commons)

Bark of Cinchona officinalis (photo credit: wikimedia commons)

Malaria is caused by protozoan parasites in the genus Plasmodium. Humans become infected with the parasites when they are bitten by infected mosquitos (Anopheles spp.). The parasites enter the bloodstream and liver and begin to reproduce. People with malaria experience flu-like symptoms and, if not treated quickly and properly, risk death. While early Europeans did not know it at the time, the cinchona bark treatment worked because it contained quinine, an antimalarial compound, which suppresses and destroys malarial parasites.

Quinine is an alkaloid (a class of nitrogen-containing organic compounds) that cinchona trees produce as a defense against insect herbivory. Many plants produce alkaloids for this reason, and these alkaloids, when discovered and isolated by humans, have proven to be quite useful. Caffeine, nicotine, morphine, and strychnine are all examples of alkaloids. Quinine was isolated from cinchona bark in the 1820’s and eventually produced synthetically in the 1940’s. It is still used today to treat malaria, although other antimalarial drugs are now favored due to greater effectiveness and fewer side effects. Today, products containing quinine are available for the treatment of leg cramps; however, the United States Food and Drug Administration has stated that they have not approved quinine for this use and advise consumers to avoid such products.

Cinchona is a genus of evergreen trees and shrubs in the family Rubiaceae (the coffee family) that includes around 23 species. It is native to the Andes of South America and mountains in the southern portion of Central America and often occurs in cloud forests, forests that are characterized by regular, canopy-level cloud cover. Cinchona flowers are tubular, pollinated largely by butterflies and hummingbirds, and come in white, pink, and purple. The fruits of Cinchona are dry, woody capsules containing small, flat, papery seeds that are wind dispersed. C. pubescens, C. calisaya, and C. officinalis are the main species that have been cultivated for quinine production.

The flowers of Cinchona pubescens (photo credit: wikimedia commons)

The flowers of Cinchona pubescens (photo credit: wikimedia commons)

In the 19th century when Europeans were busy colonizing places like India and Africa, having a readily available source of cinchona bark was vital to their success. They may have had the guns and ammunition necessary for conquest, but even so, they would not have been able to withstand the plague of malaria parasites without regular doses of quinine. But quinine is bitter stuff. Served in sweetened soda water helped it go down. Add a ration of gin, even better. Imperialism was secured. Just something to think about the next time you’re mixing yourself a gin and tonic on a mid-September day.

Resources:

–Encyclopedia of Life: Cinchona

–University of Minnesota James Ford Bell Library: Cinchona Bark

–McGraw-Hill Education: Using Bark to Cure the Bite

–Wikipedia: Cinchona, Quinine, Jesuit’s Bark

–Slate: The Imperial Cocktail

–One Species at a Time Podcast: Quinine Tree

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Kudzu Ate the South…Now Looks North

In 1876, an Asian vine was introduced to the people of the United States at a centennial celebration in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. It was a fairly benign looking vine, with its leaves of three and its cluster of sweet pea like flowers, but its exotic appeal must have been quite enticing, because it took off…and not just in popularity.

The plant that caught the eye of these early Americans was called kudzu (or kuzu in Japanese). It is a plant in the genus Pueraria in the family Fabaceae (the pea family). The plants first introduced to the U.S. were likely to have consisted of more than a single species such as P. montana, P. lobata, P. edulis, and others, or were hybrids of these species. They were initially lauded for their ornamental value but soon after were recognized for their potential as animal feed. By the 1930’s, when soil erosion had become a major issue, kudzu was deployed by the U.S. government to combat it. At least 85 million government-funded kudzu seedlings later, and the southeastern portion of the United States had secured a future dominated by this relentless and unforgiving vine.

Innocent and harmless is how kudzu must have first appeared, especially to those looking for a fast growing, large-leaved, vining plant to provide quick shade for porches, offering relief from the sun during those sweltering southern summers. Little did they know, however, if left unchecked, that prized vine could engulf homes and outbuildings, cover and pull down trees and utility poles, and choke out crops and pastures in the matter of a single growing season.

(photo credit: eol.org)

(photo credit: eol.org)

Kudzu was added to the Federal Noxious Weed List in 1997, long after it had established itself throughout the southeastern U.S. It now covers more than 3 million hectares, spreading at a pace of about 50,000 hectares (120,000 acres) per year. It is said that a kudzu vine can grow up to a foot in a single day or about 60 feet in a growing season. It is a twining vine, wrapping itself around any upright structure it can access and relying on that support in order to advance upwards. This gives it the advantage of using more resources for growth and expansion of both roots and shoots rather than on the resource demanding task of producing woody stems. Like other members of the pea family, it gets much of its nitrogen from the atmosphere through a process called nitrogen fixation. Because of this, kudzu can thrive in nutrient poor soils. Kudzu is also drought-tolerant, has leaves that follow the sun throughout the day in order to maximize photosynthesis, reproduces clonally by layering (stems in contact with the ground grow roots and detach from the parent plant), and (in North America) is free from the pests and diseases commonly associated with it in its native habitat. For these reasons and others, kudzu has become one of the most notorious, pervasive, and ecologically harmful weeds in the U.S., costing hundreds of millions of dollars in damages every year.

A close-up of kudzu flowers (photo credit: wikimedia commons)

A close-up of kudzu flowers (photo credit: wikimedia commons)

kudzu foliage and flowers

Foliage and flowers of kudzu (photo credit: wikimedia commons)

One glance at what kudzu has done in the southeastern states, and it is obvious that it is some kind of superweed. I saw firsthand just how overwhelming it can be as I drove through Mississippi several years ago. I didn’t even have to stop the car to investigate. It was easily apparent that it was the dominant species, enveloping every tree for miles alongside the highway. Currently, kudzu can be found in every county in Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi. But kudzu has a limitation; it doesn’t care much for freezing temperatures. Even though it has been present in parts of northern states – like Ohio, New Jersey, and Delaware – for a while now, it has generally been limited to milder locations, and it certainly doesn’t thrive in the same way that it does in the subtropical climates of the southern states. But that is changing, because the climate is changing.

Average global temperatures increased by about 1.53° F between 1880 and 2012, and this gradual increase is expected to continue for the foreseeable future. Biologists and ecologists are monitoring changes in climate closely in order to observe and predict changes in the biology and ecology of our planet. Invasive species are high on the list of concerns, as climate is often a major limitation to their spread. Now that kudzu has been found in Marblehead, Massachusetts and Ontario, Canada, the fear of kudzu climbing north is becoming a reality.

Kudzu is incredibly difficult to control. It does not respond to many herbicides, and the herbicides that do affect it must be applied repeatedly over a long time period. It is an excellent forage plant, so utilizing grazing animals to keep it in check can be effective. Those who have succumbed to kudzu, acknowledging that it is here to stay, have found uses for it, including making baskets, paper, biofuel, and various food items. A compound extracted from the kudzu root is also being studied as a possible treatment for alcoholism. Kudzu has long been valued for its culinary and medicinal uses in Asia, so it is no surprise that uses would be found for it in North America. However, North Americans who embrace kudzu are taking a defeatist approach. That is, “if we can’t get rid of it, we may as well find a use for it.” This, however, should not negate nor distract from the damage it has caused and continues to cause local ecosystems and the ecological threat that it poses to areas where it is just now being introduced or may soon be introduced due to our warming climate.

Millions of dollars are spent every year to address the effects kudzu has on utility poles (phot credi: eol.org)

Millions of dollars are spent every year to remove kudzu from utility poles and replace poles pulled down by kudzu (photo credit: eol.org)

References:

– Encyclopedia of Life: Pueraria Montana

– Wikipedia: Kudzu in the United States

– Max Shores: The Amazing Story of Kudzu

– U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service: Conservation in a Changing Climate

– NASA Earth Observatory: How Much More Will the Earth Warm?

– Bloomberg: Kudzu That Ate U.S. South Heads North as Climate Changes

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My Carrion Flowers

In April of last year, a box of stem cuttings arrived in my mailbox. They were sent to me by a friend in Colorado called Sandra (you may know her from one of her many ventures: Greenwoman Magazine, Greenwoman Publishing, Flora’s Forum, etc.). Sandra’s carrion flower had bloomed that spring, a stinky but delightful occasion. In her excitement, she asked if I would be interested in growing some carrion flowers of my own. Not one to turn down the chance to try my hand at cultivating something unusual, I gladly accepted her offer of a few cuttings sent via Priority Mail. Six cuttings arrived shortly thereafter, and upon reading through some instructions on the internet, I nestled them into their new home and hoped they would put down roots and stay a while.

carrion flower cuttings

There are several species of plants that are referred to commonly as carrion flower. The plant parts I received from Sandra are in the genus Stapelia (family: Apocynaceae or dogbane family), also known commonly as African starfish flower. There are around 100 species in the genus Stapelia, and they all originate from tropical and southern Africa, mostly in arid regions.

Stapelias are short-lived, low-growing, perennial succulents. Their stems typically stand erect and are produced along stolons (above ground runners), creating a tight clump of stems that appear cactus-like. Each stem has 4-6 flattened vertical flanks, giving it a cross or star shape when looking down from the top. On the outside edges of the flanks are a series of rudimentary leaves protruding from tubercles (wart-like growths), giving the stems a spiny appearance. The stems are usually green but can also be red or mottled with red or purple.

The flowers of Stapelia are the real show. They are produced at or near the base of the stem and have a star-shaped corolla with five fused petals that come to sharp points. The corolla has a wrinkly look and is often hairy, especially along the margins. Flowers can be variations of red, brown, yellow, and purple. In some species they can reach up to 18 inches wide. It is a unique looking flower, but even more unique is its scent. Because Stapelia flowers are pollinated by flies, they emit the scent of rotting animal flesh, an odor that flies can truly appreciate. In fact, flies can be so deceived by the appearance and scent of the flowers that they occasionally lay their eggs on or near them, expecting them to be a food source for their emerging larva.

Stapelia variegate (photo credit: eol.org)

Stapelia variegata (photo credit: eol.org)

Stapelia is easily propagated, especially by stem cuttings. Allow cuttings to dry in a cool, shady location for 48 hours and then stick them in a well-drained potting soil mix. Water moderately (preferably from below by placing the container in a tray and then filling the tray with water). Cuttings should root easily. All six of mine did.

Keep Stapelia in a sunny or mostly sunny location. If you live in USDA hardiness zone 9 or above, you can grow Stapelia outdoors. Otherwise, keep it indoors near a window that gets lots of sun. The main thing you will have to worry about is stem rot due to over watering. Grow Stapelia in a well-drained soil mix, water from below, and allow soil to dry out between waterings in order to avoid this.

Stapelia variegata (photo credit: eol.org)

Stapelia variegata (photo credit: eol.org)

As for me and my carrion flowers, like I said earlier, all six cuttings rooted. I transplanted one of them. Of the five left in the original pot, one rotted a couple weeks ago and another rotted during the writing of this post. The remaining ones still look healthy, but none of them have grown much since they rooted. The main problem I am having is that my house does not let in much sunlight. What appears relatively bright to me is probably cave-like to my carrion flowers. Until I remedy that situation, they may not grow much, they could continue to rot, and they probably won’t flower any time soon. However, if anything changes and I do get a flower out of them, I will make it a point to let you know. And Sandra will be proud.

stapelia today_edit

 

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Trees Are Good For Your Lungs

Trees help reduce air pollution. They do this primarily by pulling gases (like ozone, sulfur dioxide, and nitrogen dioxide) into their leaves and then diffusing them and/or chemically altering them so that they are no longer a direct threat to humans. They also intercept particulate matter, trapping it on the surfaces of their leaves until the wind comes along and blows it away or the rain comes around and washes it into the soil. Trees are filters in this sense, reducing the health threats of our polluted air.

But didn’t I just report on the contribution of urban trees to air pollution via their production of volatile organic compounds? Yes I did. And that remains a possibility; however, according to a study recently published in the journal, Environmental Pollution, the presence of trees is a great benefit to human health despite potential risks. More research is necessary of course, but the consensus so far is that having trees around is a net positive.

Alnus glutinosa, European Alder (photo credit: wikimedia commons)

Alnus glutinosa, European Alder (photo credit: wikimedia commons)

There have been many studies on the relationship between trees and air quality, but little is known about the extent to which human health impacts are avoided and the related money that is saved as a result of air pollution mitigation by trees and forests. With the aid of computer simulations, researchers at US Forest Service and The Davey Institute used 2010 Census data, tree cover maps from the 2001 National Land Cover Database, US EPA’s BenMAP program, and other data to seek answers to these questions. Their analyses – focused at the county level – involved the 48 contiguous United States.

According to their study, trees and forests removed around 17.4 million tons of air pollution in 2010, which resulted in a health care savings of $6.8 billion. 850 human deaths were avoided, and incidences of acute respiratory symptoms were reduced by 670,000. Ozone and nitrogen dioxide experienced the greatest decrease, while the removal of ozone and particulate matter resulted in the greatest health value. Air pollution removal was greater in rural areas compared to urban areas simply because there is more rural area in the US than urban area; however, the removal of air pollution was found to be more valuable in urban areas due to differences in population density. Resulting health benefits and savings are quite dramatic considering that air pollution removal by trees was only found to improve air quality by about 1%.

There were many things left out in this study though, and the researchers acknowledge this. First of all – as stated earlier – trees have the potential to contribute to air pollution. They emit volatile organic compounds which can result in ozone formation, they can reduce wind speeds which concentrates pollutants, and they produce pollen which is a direct contribution to air quality and a major health issue for those with serious allergies.  But trees reduce air pollution in indirect ways as well. For example, by shading buildings, trees can reduce energy demands which results in decreased power plant emissions and a reduction in air pollution.

Quercus sp., Oak Tree (photo credit: wikimedia commons)

Quercus sp., Oak Tree (photo credit: wikimedia commons)

Trees can also be negatively affected by air pollution. When particulate matter collects on leaf surfaces, photosynthesis is compromised, limiting a tree’s ability to take gaseous air pollution into its leaves. Urban trees are stressed in additional ways. For example, trees growing near sidewalks, driveways, and roadways deal with serious soil compaction and are often not receiving optimal amounts of water, which can limit their ability to mitigate air pollution. Thus, environmental factors should be considered when determining the relationship between trees and air quality.

This study was conducted at the county level. The researchers acknowledge that more precise predictions could be obtained if analyses were conducted at a finer scale. “Local-scale design of trees and forests can affect local-scale pollutant concentrations.” So, the number of trees, their concentration and configuration, the length of the growing season, the percentage of evergreen trees vs. deciduous trees, etc. all play a role in the extent of air pollution reduction.

While limitations to the study abound, the researchers assert that this initial analysis gives “a first-order approximation of the magnitude of pollution removal by trees and their effect on human health.” Future studies will provide more accurate approximations, but for now I think it is safe to say that trees are good for our health and worthwhile things to have around.

Boise National Forest

Boise National Forest

This study focused mainly on health issues of the respiratory variety. The positive psychological benefits of plants have been observed in separate studies, and our also worthy of our consideration when determining the health benefits of trees and forests.

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Drought Tolerant Plants: Blue Sage

If you are considering installing a drought tolerant garden on your property or including more drought tolerant plants in your landscape, one plant that should come standard is blue sage. Its silvery-green foliage, large, abundant, purple-blue flower stalks, and attractive mounded shape, make it an excellent feature in any water-efficient garden bed.

salvia pachyphylla_edit 1

Salvia pachyphylla is in the mint family (Lamiaceae). It has several common names which it shares with several other plants: blue sage, Mojave sage, rose sage, mountain desert sage, giant-flower sage. For this post we will refer to it as blue sage; however, if you’re looking to purchase it, make sure to verify the botanical name. Blue sage is a subshrub that can grow up to 3 feet tall and 3 feet wide. It tends to remain smaller – around 1-2 feet tall – in its native habitat. It is found in the southwestern states of the United Sates on dry, rocky slopes and flats at elevations between 5,000 – 10,000 feet. The leaves are oppositely arranged and covered with fine hairs that lay tightly against the leaf surface giving the foliage its silvery appearance. Like all other sages, the leaves of blue sage are highly aromatic.

salvia pachyphylla foliage_edit

The flowers appear in compact clusters on spikes that extend upward from the branches. The inflorescences can be several inches long. They have numerous large, purple bracts that appear in a whorled pattern along the spike. The violet-blue flowers are small but prolific and appear between the bracts surrounding the stalk. Flowering occurs throughout the summer (July-September in its native range). The flowers attract droves of pollinators including bees, butterflies, and hummingbirds. Blue sage is especially beneficial to native pollinators. In fact, while taking photos for this post, I noted that the flowers were being visited by several bumblebees. Its benefit to pollinators is another great reason to include this plant in your landscape.

salvia pachyphylla_edit 2

Blue sage is a very drought tolerant plant. Once it is established it requires only occasional watering throughout the summer in order to keep it looking good. It performs well in a variety of soil types, but like most drought tolerant plants it is best placed in well drained soil. Heavy soils can be amended by mixing in things like sand, lava rock fines, and compost at planting time. It prefers full sun and is winter hardy to USDA hardiness zone 5, especially if planted in an area where the soil is relatively dry throughout the winter. Blue sage is a long lived plant and can be kept in shape by cutting back the spent flowers in the fall. The folks at Plant Select recommend planting blue sage with, among other things, penstemon, coreopsis, and creeping veronica.

Photos were taken at Idaho Botanical Garden in Boise, Idaho.

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Hundreds of Japanese Plants Threatened with Extinction

Life has existed on earth for at least 3.5 billion years, and during that time there have been five mass extinctions. Currently, we are in the middle of a sixth one. The major difference between the current extinction event and others is that this one is largely human caused, which is pretty upsetting. However, knowing that detail has its upside: if humans are the drivers of this phenomenon, we can also be the ones to put on the brakes.

Biologists have spent the last several decades tracking the current mass extinction, endeavoring to come up with a list of species that have the greatest risks of extinction, as well as lists of species that are at less of a risk, etc. The problem is that factors leading up to extinctions are diverse, and available data for making predictions is lacking, especially temporal data. Recognizing this information gap, researchers in Japan set out to better determine the extinction risk of Japanese flora. Using data from surveys done by lay botanists in 1994-95 and 2003-04, they were able to calculate a trend which indicated that, under current circumstances, between 370 and 561 plant species in Japan will go extinct within the next 100 years.

photo credit: wikimedia commons

photo credit: wikimedia commons

The methods for this study, as described in the findings which appeared last month in PLOS ONE, involved dividing Japan into 3574 sections measuring around 100 square kilometers each and covering about 80% of the country. More than 500 lay botanists tallied the numbers of species that were found in each section during the two time periods. 1735 taxa were recorded, and out of those, 1618 were considered quantifiable and used in the analysis.

Japan is home to a recorded 7087 vascular plant taxa. Historically, the extinction rate of plant taxa in Japan has been around 0.01% per year. According to this study, over the next 100 years the extinction rate will rise to between 0.05 and 0.08% per year. Researchers are organizing a third census in the near future in order to monitor the actual extinction rate and better determine the accuracy of this prediction.

Data collected in these censuses was also used to evaluate the effectiveness of protected areas and determine the need for improvements and expansions. Natural parks cover 14.3% of Japan, but only about half of that area is regulated for biodiversity conservation. The researchers found that protected areas do help to reduce the risk of extinctions, but that their effectiveness is far from optimum and that even expanding protected areas to cover at least 17% of the nation (a target set at the recent Convention on Biological Diversity) would not effectively gaurd threatened plant species from extinction.

In their conclusion, the researchers advise not only to expand protected areas but to improve the “conservation effectiveness” of them, and “to improve the effectiveness of them, we need to know the types of pressures causing population decline in the areas.” They go on to list a few of these pressures, including land development and recreational overuse, and suggest that management schemes should be developed to focus on specific pressures.

Japanese Primrose, Primula japonica (photo credit: eol.org)

Japanese Primrose, Primula japonica (photo credit: eol.org)

One thing I found very interesting and encouraging about this study was the recruitment of lay botanists in collecting data. As stated in the findings, “Monitoring data collected by the public can play an essential role in assessing biodiversity.” I am excited by the growing citizen science movement and hope to see it continue to expand as more and more people become interested in science and eager to add to this body of knowledge. In fact, I consider the term “awkward botany” to be synonymous with citizen, lay, and amateur botany. That is precisely why I chose it as the title for my blog. So, in short, expect more posts involving citizen science in the future.

You can read more about this study on John Platt’s blog Extinction Countdown at Scientific American.

 

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Corpse Flower Blooms Again

It is not often that a plant in bloom makes headlines, but that is precisely what happened last week when another corpse flower bloomed at Missouri Botanical Garden. Amorphophallus titanum, commonly known as titan arum or corpse flower, is a rare species, both in cultivation and in the wild. It also rarely flowers, and when it does, the bloom only lasts for a few short days. It has the largest known unbranched inflorescence, and its flowers give off the scent of rotting flesh. For all these reasons, it is understandable why a blooming corpse flower might make the news.

Titan arums naturally occur in the western portion of an Indonesian island called Sumatra. Their future is threatened because they occur in rainforests that are currently being deforested for timber and palm oil production. Deforestation is also threatening the survival of the rhinoceros hornbill, a bird that is an important seed distributor of titan arums. Today there are a few hundred titan arums in cultivation in botanical gardens throughout the world. They are a difficult species to cultivate, but their presence in botanical gardens is important in order to learn more about them and to help educate the public about conservation efforts.

Amorphophaulls titanium, titan arum (photo credit: eol.org)

(photo credit: eol.org)

Titan arums are in the arum family (Araceae), a family that consists of around 107 genera including Caladium (elephant ears), Arisaema (jack-in-the-pulpits), and Wolffia (duckweeds), a genus that wins the records for smallest flowering plant and smallest fruit. Titan arums are famous for their giant inflorescence, which can reach more than 10 feet tall. The flowering stalk is known botanically as a spadix, a fleshy stem in the shape of a spike that is covered with small flowers. The spadix of titan arums are wrapped with a leaf-like sheath called a spathe. Upon blooming, the temperature inside the spathe rises and the flowers begin to release a very foul odor, similar to the smell of rotting flesh. This attracts pollinating insects such as carrion beetles, sweat bees, and flesh flies, which get trapped inside the sheath and covered with pollen. After a few hours the top of the spadix begins to wither, allowing the insects to escape, off to pollinate a neighboring corpse flower [the spadix includes male and female flowers, which mature at different times in order to prevent self-pollination]. Once pollinated, the flowers begin to form small red fruits which are eaten by birds. The seeds are then dispersed in their droppings.

The large, stinky inflorescence is not the only structure that gives titan arums their fame. They are also known for their massive single leaf, which can reach up to 20 feet tall and 15 feet wide, the size of a large shrub or small tree. All of this growth is produced from an enormous underground storage organ called a corm. The corms of mature titan arums typically weigh more than 100 pounds, with some known to weigh more than 200 pounds. Titan arums bloom only after the corms have reached a mature size, which takes from seven to ten years. After that they bloom about once a year or once every other year, depending on when the corm has accumulated enough nutrients to support the giant flowering structure.

Below are two time lapse videos of titan arums in bloom. The first is from Missouri Botanical Garden, and the second is from United States Botanic Garden.

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