Burdock Flower Courtesy & Copyright 2009 Jim CaneThe splendid blooming meadows of summer are fulfilling their reproductive imperative now as they mature and disperse the fruits and seeds that resulted from pollination. Plants can’t walk or actively fly, so to disperse from the mother plant, seeds need to catch a ride. Wild gourds bob down flooding arroyos, thistledown floats on the wind, and red barberry fruits hope to catch the eye of a hungry song bird.
Certainly the most annoying means of dispersal is employed by seeds that stick in fur and socks. Some like cheatgrass are driven home by sharp barbed seeds that poke and hold like the porcupine’s quill. Others form evil pointy burrs, like those of puncturevine, that can flatten a bicycle tire. And then there is burdock. This European weed infests moister disturbed sites in Utah. Its burrs cling tightly to hair and clothing.
Burdock Hooks Courtesy & Copyright 2009 Jim Cane
Sixty years ago, the Swiss engineer, George de Mestral, became intrigued by the seed heads of cockleburrs and burdocks. They had entangled his dog’s fur and stuck to his pant legs during a montane hunt. How did those burrs cling so steadfastly? Aided by a hand lens, you can see what de Mestral saw: ranks of hook-tipped bristles that snag clothing and fur. Burdocks inspired de Mestral’s invention of Velcro, whose patented nylon bristles are hooked over just like burdock’s and latch on just the same. When next you are beset by burdock burrs, inspect one closely and admire the inventiveness of nature. Then please terminate its dispersal by placing it where the seeds of this weed can’t germinate and grow!
This is Linda Kervin for Bridgerland Audubon Society. Credits:
Photos: Courtesy & Copyright Jim Cane
Text: Jim Cane, Bridgerland Audubon Society
Additional Reading:
Velcro ® brand is a registered trademark of Velcro Industries B.V. www.velcro.com
Fall color in Logan Canyon Courtesy & Copyright 2007 Linda Kervin
In autumn, the days shorten noticeably and chilly dawns become the norm across most of Utah. Leafy plants now prepare for winter. Their summer of intense metabolic activities gradually give way to winter’s dormancy. Photosynthesis and respiration shut down as nutrients and sugars are withdrawn from leaves, to be shunted to the stem and roots for storage. But how do they anticipate the change in seasons so that they are ready for the rigors of winter?
Photosynthetic plants have a diverse array of pigments that they use to capture energy from most of the spectrum of visible sunlight. Chlorophyll is the most abundant, but its light gathering effectiveness is limited to a narrow band of the light spectrum. Plants employ many additional pigments to capture the energy available from other wavelengths of sunlight. These accessory pigments are brilliantly colored but masked by the sheer abundance of green chlorophyll.
Fall color in Logan Canyon Courtesy & Copyright 2007 Linda Kervin
One of these pigments, phytochrome, serves as a timekeeper for the plant. When phytochrome absorbs energy in the red band of sunlight, it helps to activate a number of developmental processes in the plant. As the nights lengthen in the fall, there are fewer hours of sunlight to activate the phytochrome and so it transforms to inhibit those same developmental processes.
One result is that chlorophyll is broken down and its components are moved to storage for use in the following spring. Essential nutrients, such as nitrogen and phosphorus, are likewise withdrawn from foliage for later use. With chlorophyll gone, the other colorful leaf pigments are revealed. Now maples, aspens, sumacs and more blaze for a few weeks of riotous glory.
This is Linda Kervin for Bridgerland Audubon Society.
Credits:
Photos: Courtesy & Copyright Linda Kervin
Text: Linda Kervin and Jim Cane, Bridgerland Audubon Society
Common Mullein Courtesy & Copyright 2010 Holly Strand
Hi, I’m Holly Strand from Stokes Nature Center in beautiful Logan Canyon.
Common Mullein , Our Lady’s Flannel. Velvet Plant. Clown’s Lungwort. Jupiter’s Staff. Shepherd’s Clubs. Beggar’s Blanket. Hare’s Beard, Bear’s ear, and Nature’s Toilet Paper. These are just a few of the names that apply to a single species that is a widely distributed across Europe and Central Asia and naturalized in North America.
Common names are descriptive and often charming, but they are local names and won’t be understood beyond their particular region or in another language. And sometimes common names are downright misleading. For example a koala bear isn’t a bear. And a red panda isn’t a panda.
To avoid confusion, scientists use a unique two word designation—usually taken from Latin or Greek – to identify a species unambiguously. The first word is the name of the genus to which the organism belongs. The genus comprises a group of closely related animals or plants. The second term is chosen by the person that describes and publishes the species account.
Vampyroteuthis infernalis “vampire squid from Hell” Illustration by Carl Chun 1911 Public Domain/expired copyright
It is a huge breach of etiquette to name a species after yourself. But the taxonomist can name the organism after the person who actually found it in the field. An example is Mentzelia shultziorum, a blazingstar named after Utah botanist Leila Schultz who first found the plant in Professor Valley in Grand County. Taxonomists can also name the species after a friendly colleague and then hope that the friendly colleague will name one after them.
Often the name will describe some physical characteristics of the species. Earlier this year, a paleontologist unearthed a new dinosaur here in Utah and named it Jeyawati rugoculus. That’s a combination of Zuni and Latin for “grinding mouth, wrinkle eye.”
Other names are based on location: Penstemon utahensis is a penstemon found in our state. Amblyoproctus boondocksius is a scarab, and was apparently found in the middle of nowhere.
Often the name will represent a subjective reaction toward the organism. Vampyroteuthis infernalis translates into “vampire squid from Hell”, Indeed it is rather scary looking cross between a squid and an octopus.
Some scientists get sentimental at naming time. They’ll name species after their loved ones. Or their favorite artists. Thus we have 2 trilobites in the Avalanchurus genus named lennoni and starri. McCartney and Harrison are honored in a neighboring genus.
I’m proud to say that a Utah biologist named a parasitic louse, Strigiphilus garylarsoni. The Far Side cartoonist should not take offense. In a letter to Larson, Dr. Dale Clayton praised him for “the enormous contribution that my colleagues and I feel you have made to biology through your cartoons.”
For sources and archives of past programs see www. Wild About Utah.org
For Wild About Utah and Stokes Nature Center, I’m Holly Strand.
Within the Pando Clone Fishlake National Forest, Utah Courtesy & Copyright 2010 Ron Ryel Utah State University
Hi, I’m Holly Strand from Stokes Nature Center in beautiful Logan Canyon.
What we consider to be the world’s largest organism has changed over time. At one point, the largest animal crown went to a 150 ton female blue whale. And General Sherman, a 275 foot tall Giant Sequoia was the largest plant.
In 1992, scientists discovered a fungus in northern Michigan and proclaimed it to be the world’s largest organism. Not nearly as visually stunning as a Giant Sequoia, this type of fungus is a filagree of mushrooms and rootlike tentacles spawned by a single fertilized spore. Over time it had grown to cover 37 acres, most of this below ground. Subsequent mushroom hunts uncovered even larger specimens elsewhere.
Stretching over 1,600 miles and visible from space, I often hear the Great Barrier Reef called the world’s largest organism. But the reef is not a single organism. It is created from the limestone secretions of a great number of different reef-producing coral species.
Fungi, reefs and giant trees are all very worthy biological wonders, but the thing that gets my largest organism vote is right here in Utah. Like the Great Barrier Reef, it’s so vast you really need to see it from a plane or even satellite. Like General Sherman, it has its own name—Pando—-meaning “I spread” in Latin. Pando can be seen is spreading itself in Fishlake National Forest in south central Utah. So what is Pando? And why is it so remarkable?
Pando is a clonal aspen colony. Each “tree” that we see in an aspen forest is not an individual tree at all but a genetically identical stem connected underground to its parent clone. More trees arise from lateral roots, creating a group of genetically identical trees. But, biologically speaking, the colony is just one individual plant.
Recent genetic testing by Dr. Karen Mock of Utah State University confirms Pando’s enormous size- it covers over 106 acres and contains around 47,000 aboveground stems or suckers. When you consider the volume represented by the trees and root system, Pando easily wins the title of world’s largest organism. So far anyway.
Thanks to Dr. Karen Mock of Utah State University’s College of Natural Resources for her help in developing this piece.
For pictures and sources of the remarkable Pando, see www.wildaboututah.org
For Wild About Utah and Stokes Nature Center, I’m Holly Strand.
Credits:
Photo: Courtesy & Copyright 2010 Ron Ryel, Utah State University
Text: Stokes Nature Center: Holly Strand
Sources & Additional Reading
WESTERN ASPEN ALLIANCE is a joint venture between Utah State University’s College of Natural Resources and the USDA Forest Service Rocky Mountain Research Station, whose purpose is to facilitate and coordinate research issues related to quaking aspen (Populus tremuloides) communities of the west. https://www.western-aspen-alliance.org/
American Cetatcean Society. Fact Sheet on the Blue Whale. https://www.acsonline.org [Accessed September 2, 2010]
