June 20, 2013 Leave a Comment

The fern that wants to be a liverwort

Didymoglossum tahitense - d'après John Gilbert Baker (Journal of the Linnean Society - 1867) et Otto Warburg (Die Pflantzenwelt - 1913)

Didymoglossum tahitense – d’après John Gilbert Baker (Journal of the Linnean Society – 1867) et Otto Warburg (Die Pflantzenwelt – 1913)

Filmy ferns, or ferns belonging to the family Hymenophyllaceae, are in interesting group of plants.

They are among some of the earliest lineages of ferns, but at the same time, they has a very simple structure, as far as ferns are concerned, because they are usually only one cell thick in most parts of their frond lamina (and thus the appellation ‘filmy fern’).

Being one cell thick, they have also no need for stomata (the microscopic ‘organs’ on the leaves of practically all plants that allow plants to transpire), as they simply dehydrate for a while when conditions get to dry, and rehydrate when it gets wet again.

In this latter aspect, filmy ferns are like many mosses and allied plants.

In particular, there a a group of plants called liverworts that are allied to mosses, and the simplest of liverworts are flattish green ‘mats’ known as thalloid liverworts. These liverworts tend to form some sort of a flat plate against their substrate.

Didymoglossum tahitense on a tree

Didymoglossum tahitense on a tree

Interestingly, there are filmy ferns that do the same, and one such fern is Didymoglossum tahitense.

Being a aficionado of mosses and liverworts (bryophytes in general), small and green like filmy ferns pique my interest easily, and especially anything that appears flattish and formless.

Thus it was that on a tree in Cape Tribulation, Queensland, I spotted Didymoglossum tahitense.

It is one of the strangest filmy fern I have ever seen and has got to be witnessed to be believed.

More likely, it might be overlooked by most botanists as some algae, liverwort, lichen, or possibly a discoloration of tree bark!

Closeup of the 'body of Didymoglossum tahitense

Closeup of the ‘body of Didymoglossum tahitense

But upon closer inspection, the exquisite roundish and innervated fronds are unmistakable.

It never fails to amaze me how plants “aspire” to “emulate” or “impersonate” (or in some cases perhaps more accurately “mimic”) one another. Thus we have mosses trying to “act” like trees, herbs that grow into the dimensions of trees, trees that better considered herbs, grasses that try to be trees.

I can tell you a story of the reverse, where a liverwort is “impersonating” a filmy fern, but that shall be in another post!

Filed Under: Botany, Plant Curios, Plant Morphology, Tropical Australia Tagged: , , , , , , , ,
May 30, 2013 Leave a Comment

Filed Under: Appreciation, Philosophy, Poetry
April 6, 2013 Leave a Comment

Age of a plant, useful concept or illusionary idea

Not too long ago I had a little discussion with a friend who is working on tree rings and we got into a little dialectic about tree age, or more specifically plant age.

Very quickly, the conversation went into how to classify what is old and then the whole concept of cells and life itself (as I will explain) and it became very clear that at the heart of the conversation, the emphasis on the age of trees is just another means of placing plants into “boxes” so that we can understanding and appreciate them.

What is the oldest?

Conventional wisdom places an unnamed individual Bristlecone Pine (Pinus longaeva) as the oldest and most ancient standing tree, being 5062 years of age. (see the Old List)

However, in terms of age, even this Bristlecone Pine does not deserve the title of ancient when compared to what may be achieved by a Quaking Aspen (Populus tremuloides). In the Fishlake National Forest of the United States, a colony of 47,000 quaking aspen trees (nicknamed “Pando”), covering 106 acres (43 ha), is one of the oldest and largest organisms in the world. The colony has been estimated to be 80,000 years old, although if we were to use tree ring to date individual, above-ground, trees, we would find these trees to be only about 130 years on average.

So, to level the playing field even further, when we talk about the oldest Bristlecone Pine, we are talking about bits of dead cells inside the deepest part of the trunk of the tree that made five millenia ago. The living part of the trunk (i.e. the cambium) which is practically just a thin layer of cells, could hardly be half a century old.

The same goes for the Quaking Aspen clone.

So why understand plant age?

There are many wonderful reasons for wanting to understand the age of trees. In terms of science, studying old trees like the Bristlecone Pine can help with understanding how the local environment has changed over that 5000 years or so.

But that is just science.

There is a deeper metaphor provided by just this two examples of old trees. The parts of them that are living is new, and the old has long been left behind, either hidden in the deep recesses of one’s core, or long decomposed and returned to the earth.

So perhaps the metaphor is that no matter how old one is, the life that one is currently living can and should be fresh and new.

Filed Under: Appreciation Tagged: ,
February 9, 2013 Leave a Comment

The East Coast Odyssey 2013

Checkpoints along the East Coast of Australia in my Foursquare app

On the 4th of Jan 2013 I embarked alone on an epic journey, behind the wheel of a small wagon. The journey was mind expanding, and it has given me perspectives about a large number of subjects that I would never have obtained otherwise.

The journey involved 6000 kilometers of bitumen road along the East Coast of Australia from Cairns down to Tasmania and this was spread out over one month and four days. I abbreviate this trip the ECO (East Coast Odyssey) 2013, which also partly alludes to an intention I have to more fully appreciate the ecology of the Australian east coast.

It is impossible to describe in a single post the insights on all matters ecological and personal which I have have gleaned from just this one drive. For this general post on my reflections, I will say three things:

1. Environment-wise, there is disproportionately more to appreciate than not

Some people may not like to hear this but I will say it anyway. With regards to the environment, there is disproportionately more to appreciate than not. Yes, I acknowledge that development goes on. Mining goes on. Various forms of damage or misuse to the environment occur. However, the abundance of beauty and well-being in the natural environment that is there is undeniable. Yet, an excessive attention to aspects of the environment that we dislike gives us a disproportionately negative experience. In short, seeing some much beauty in a single trip has reinforced the idea to me that it is not my job or desire to scour the continent for evidence of environmental desecration and be an informant about the subject. My greatest contribution can come only from my appreciation and sharing of the beauty which I have seen.

2. Breaks from the wanted helps with appreciating the wanted

During the ECO, I spent two weeks in cities due to family commitments. As much as I thought that I would have liked my entire trip to be an exploration of forest or natural environments, immersion into city life set up a wonderful basis from which I could appreciate the forest in a more emphatic and meaningful fashion. If I had just gone from National Park to National Park, it would have become a chore looking at the next green thing after a while…and yes, even for a crazed plant nerd like myself, information overload occurs. And so being in the city was a counter-balance to becoming, weird as it might sound, “natured out”.

A beautiful River Red Gum (Eucalyptus camuldulensis) at Violet Town, Victoria.

3. Every journey is a reconnaissance to discover what one can look forward to seeing in the future

I embarked on the journey thinking I would see much, if not all, of what I wanted to see. Instead, I discovered that the more I saw, the more I knew what I would like to see. It is funny how being in proximity to a place, and reading about them in information pamphlets and such, can awaken one’s desire to visit the place. Now that I have been to a few places in New South Wales, there are quite a number more I would like to visit, and some which I wouldn’t mind staying for a number of weeks on end. Now that I have seen the coastal rain forest in a number of places in Queensland and New South Wales, I have discovered that there are more to see. In other words, an appreciation of a place or region leads to more in that place or region to appreciate.

In closing, I think I embarked on this journey long ago. Long before I even arrived in Australia almost a decade ago. This is because every life experience that has led to the desire and circumstance that made embarking on this journey possible is every bit as relevant to the journey itself. Now I look forward to an exploration of the North, West and South coast of Australia, and the rest if the world!

Filed Under: Appreciation, Travel Tagged: , , , ,
January 19, 2013 2 Comments

Antarctic Beech veneration and moss bonanza

Nothofagus moorei

I am now at the midpoint of my great East Coast Odyssey 2013 and am in Brisbane where the inimitable Andrew Franks is based.

15 years ago, Andrew did his honours project on the mosses and related small plants that grow on the Antarctic Beech (Nothofagus moorei) in cool temperate rainforest pockets in Queensland. Andrew’s work led to a publication in Austral Ecology (abstract link here). Inspired by his work, I had followed suit to do a similar study in the Myrtle Beech (Nothofagus cunninghamii) cool temperate rain forests of Tasmania (abstract link here).

Meeting Andrew at last year’s moss workshop was a great opportunity to discuss the similarities in what we had done. Passing through Brisbane on my trip down presented an even better opportunity to visit some of the sites that Andrew sampled.

Bescherella elegantissima

Andrew kindly took me and Elly Pearce, a to-be Honours student to Lamington National Park. The park itself is a subtropical plant haven worth visiting on it’s own right for the botanical treasures that about there. There were immense strangling figs (Ficus wattsiana), stately Bollygum (Litsea reticulata) trees, majestic Black Booyong (Argyrodendron actinophyllum) trees with their chracteristic buttresses, awe-inspiring gigantic Stream lilies (Helmholtzia glaberrima) which grow up to 2m tall, and more and more.

Limitless as the ability of subtropical trees and flowers to delight, our quarry was the fabled Antarctic Beech (N. moorei) and the minute denizens that grow upon it’s bark and beneath it’s shade. Thus we set out, with much resolution and focus on our 5 km hike, to the abode of the Antarctic Beech in Lamington National Park.

An Antarctic Beech forest, and the first, and perhaps every subsequent meeting with one produces an effect that can only be described by the words like ‘arresting’, and ‘haunting’. There is a dark eerie air around these forests, especially in the presence of mist. The subtropical rainforest all along the track in is magnificent, but Antarctic Beech forest leaves one with an impression of that their greater antiquity and resilience. These Antarctic Beech forests are climatic relicts, vestiges of a Gondwanan past, persisting in a time in which one might question they belong.

Dawsonia superba, one of the world’s largest ground moss

And then I heard the mosses sing, the melodies of Acrophyllum, Hampeela, Papillaria, Ptychomnion, Rhizogonium… all old friends, all familiar.

And I heard too some unfamiliar ‘songs’, the tune of Dawsonia superba, one of the worlds largest moss, and Bescherella elegantissima, a moss of distinction which donned some tree boles with beautiful raiment.

Andrew, masterful in the ways of botanical collection, showed us his use of Epicollect, a phone app which he designed and uses to record his moss collections. The phone app can be downloaded and used by anyone for free. The data anyone collects is then synced in a information cloud in the digital realm and with the database at the Queensland Herbarium. The data is also available publicly. The app also allowed for photos and Andrew showed us the inventive way he takes photos with his hand lens placed over his phone camera!

Such is the ways of plant-people. We attempt to document and record the minutiae of plant life but I think we are really recorders of songs – the songs of plants. We might do that in the form of documenting the location where a plant occurs, or by describing a new species, or by discoursing on how they relate to the environment at large, but in all instances we are united by our attune-ment to the plant world.

Lamington National Park was a bonanza of mosses, an abode of Antarctic Beeches, set within a domain of lush subtropical rainforest, but for me too, it was a grand symphony of plant songs, from plants great and small.

Filed Under: Collecting Plants, Gondwana, Mosses Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , ,
January 1, 2013 Leave a Comment

The Sapote that changed the course of Mexico

The mamey sapote (Pouteria sapota) is a very popular fruit in Florida, the Caribbean islands, and Central America where the fruit is highly esteemed. The mamey sapote was cultivated by the native peoples of Central America for hundred of years, and has made it’s appearance in Far North Queensland in recent times.

I got my mamey from Rusty’s market before the new year and waited in anticipation for it to ripen, wondering how it would taste like. My familiarity with edible sapotes, or members of the Sapote family (Sapotaceae) is limited largely to the chiku (Manilkara zapota) and a few other obscure fruits like the Star Apple (Chrysophyllum cainito), Canistel (Pouteria campechiana) and Abiu (Pouteria caimito) but the thumping big mamey sapote has been a subject of curiosity for some time.

My fruit ripened on the New Year and what better a way to begin the new year than with a new fruit!

As I sectioned the large fruit, my eyes widened upon seeing the thumping great seed within. The seed of the Mamey Sapote has got to be the largest seed in the Sapote family (at least it is for me until someone else tells me so).

The flesh is deep orange and as custard-like and as I suspected, it tastes like a chiku, but is a lot sweeter and has a less gritty texture. I could hardly finish the fruit and speculated upon the significant nutritional value of it’s flesh.

Little did I know that it is this very fruit played a part in charting the course of history in Mexico.

When the famous Spanish conquistador Hernando Cortez and his army marched through parts of Central America there were times when they existed entirely on Mamey Sapote pulp. The same nutrition that made up my breakfast played a role in the Spanish conquest of Mexico!

The fruits of the land feed it’s native inhabitants and conquerors alike, and now they feed the peoples of the modern world, who live in tropical climes, and whom might be willing to try a new exotic fruit.

Filed Under: Fruits, Plant Foods, Tropical Australia Tagged: , ,
December 26, 2012 Leave a Comment

Making my own seed bracelet

Having seen the fabulous seed jewelry by indigenous people, Bev from Jedmax seeds and other local artists I became very fascinated with seed jewelry.

The origins of seed jewelry making must go way back to the beginnings of human evolution, although I have not yet come across any serious study on the subject.

The indigenous people here in tropical Australia and also the local artists who make seed jewelry utilize a variety of native plants, in particular those belonging to the pea family (Fabaceae). Examples are the Saga tree (Adenanthera pavonina), Matchbox beans (Entada spp.), Nickernuts (Caesalpinia bonduc) and others.

However, the potential for the use of many other seeds remain unexplored. Ever since my conversations with Bev and Gary I have been looking out for plants that produce seeds suitable for use in seed jewelry and toying with the idea of maybe trying to make a simple seed jewelry as a little project.

Recently I found out that one of the native plants here, the White Cedar (Melia azaderach) is also known as the Bead tree elsewhere in it’s native range, which stretches from Pakistan, through to Southeast Asia and Australia. This tree is a member of the mahogany family (Meliaceae) and was not a family of plants I’d expect to produce seeds suitable for seed jewelry making.

Moreover, I had never encountered any local artist in the Australian tropics using the seeds of this species to make jewelry.

I collected some green fruits and peeled off the skin to find a nice hard cream-colored seed within.

Promising.

And I thought, wouldn’t it be nice to make a little basic bracelet or necklace out of these seeds.

I am not a seed jeweler however and I do not have the equipment or know-how to make anything out of the seed, promising as it might be.

But desire triumphs problems and a visit to the sewing kit provided a solution, albeit a painstaking one – the seam ripper.

Yes, so I used the seam ripper to “drill” holes through the seeds, thinking of how fast it would have been had I possessed the appropriate drill.

I also couldn’t help but wonder how indigenous people prepared their seeds in pre-colonial times.

After I had all the seeds I needed prepared, I started stringing them together on nylon string.

As my seed bracelet started taking shape, the idea that I was going to be wearing a piece of seed jewelry I was making by myself left me feeling ecstatic.

Simple and crude as my little bracelet was going to be, I think I was experiencing the joy an artist experiences in moments of pure creation.

When I finally held the finished article in my hand after four hours and put it on, I have to concede that there are few experiences match.

This was one of those rare times in my life I felt like I followed through a creative endeavor from the beginning to the end, and intimately involved in every step of the process, from collecting the fruits, removing the flesh and preparing the seeds, to finally stringing them together.

In a very small way, going through such a process helps one begin to appreciate the way nature provides and helps one to build a connection with his or her land.

By living in a self-reliant fashion depending solely on material and food collected or hunted from their world around them, native peoples world over must have attained states of appreciation and connection with their land that few people these days allow themselves to experience.

And also, I knew now in a way I cannot articulate, the difference between wearing a piece of jewelry or accessory that is bought and one that is made personally.

I looked back on my journal and found an entry in my bucket list which listed “Make own seed accessory”. With much satisfaction I ticked that item off.

Filed Under: Botanical Art, Personal Process, Philosophy Tagged: , , ,
December 26, 2012 Leave a Comment

Digging the chocolate pudding fruit (Diospyros digyna)

After almost three years of being in the Wet Tropics of Australia, I finally got to try my first chocolate pudding fruit (Diospyros digyna). This fruit tree from the Ebony family (Ebenaceae) is native to Mexico and Central America, but is cultivated for their popular fruits in tropical Australia.

This rather unusual relative of the persimon (Diospyros kaki) is also known as the Black Sapote, although it is in no way related to Sapotes (which are from the Sapotaceae). The common sobriquet is apt though, because the fruit starts to look black when it is ready to eat, and in fact it starts feeling squishy.

The green fruits are sold typically when still green and firm. The kind lady at Rusty’s market picked me a relatively large fruit around 13cm across. She told me that it will be ready to eat in 4 days but by the next day the fruit was starting to go black and soft.

I punctured the fruit with my fingernail and ripped it open to expose the brown pudding-like edible inner flesh – the very reason why the fruit is called the Chocolate pudding fruit. It did not have a chocolate smell, as the name might suggest.

So black squishy fruit, and messy brown stuff inside – not very appetizing.

Some suggest that the name of the genus, Diospyros, means “Divine fruit” in ancient Greek.

It seems we must see the divine then, even in fruits that are not very visually appealing.

In the spirit of trying something out, I pressed on and I was not disappointed.

The ‘pudding’ was actually quite agreeable in flavour. It was mildly sweet and definitely had the texture of a chocolate pudding, albeit a bit ‘dry’.

The flesh was also surprising filling. I made it through half the fruit and had to save the other half for after lunch.

In closing, there is nothing visually pleasing about the Chocolate Pudding fruit after it is ripe to eat, but if the question is whether I will have this fruit again, I’d say most definitely.

Filed Under: Fruits, Tropical Australia Tagged: , , ,
December 17, 2012 Leave a Comment

Pistachios and the Pistachio Principle

I was grazing on Pistachios one day and contemplating on the amount of awareness I have on the plants that I eat. Before this, all I knew of Pistachios was that they are related to mangoes (Mangifera spp.) which is from the mango family (Anacardiaceae), so I decided to dig up more information.

Pistachios are botanically known as Pistacia vera, and they hail from the Greater Iran region. What was very surprising was that pistachios were a common food as early as 6750 BC, as shown by archaeological excavations in northeastern Iraq. Even more amazingly, remains of the Atlantic pistachio and pistachio seed along with nut cracking tools were discovered by archaeologists at Israel’s Hula Valley, dated to 780,000 years ago.

We enjoy a pre-historic food source when we eat Pistachios, and I feel sure that the same applies to a large number of other plants we eat.

Now however, we have the benefit of pistachios that have partly opened shells, a trait that has come about through selection.

As I enjoyed the inimitable buttery flavor of my pistachios while reading, I stumbled upon the Pistachio Principle.

The Pistachio Principle

In addition to the appreciation that can be had on finding out the history and story behind the plants we eat, the awareness with which bring to what we eat can be a huge factor in determining how much we actually eat. And if we find it difficult being aware, there are even some interesting ways and means to ‘trick’ ourselves into having more control over our food.

According to food psychologist Dr James Painter, the “Pistachio Principle” is caloric reduction without calorie restriction. It is one of the many ways we can alter our environmental cues, allowing us to become more mindful and satisfied with our food choices.

In one study, Dr Painter found that individuals could reduce their overall calorie consumption without consciously restricting their diets. Interestingly, despite the reduction in calories, they reported feeling equally as satisfied as the control group that consumed more calories.

In this study, participants self-selected either in-shell or shelled pistachios. As the shells act as a natural barrier and require time to remove, the in-shell group consumed 41% less than the shelled nut group. Yet, the in-shell group reported feeling equally as satisfied as the group consuming more.

I imagine that the delay in time due to the necessity of getting the pistachios out of their shell might allow for the satiation centers in our brains to kick in and let us know that we are satiated. On the other hand, when we have a packet of shelled pistachios in front of use, we might be tempted to chow it by the handful with less restrain.

In Dr. Painter’s second study, in-shell pistachios were eaten over an 8-hour shift. On the first day the empty shells were left on the desks as a visual “reminder” of consumption and on the second day the shells were removed. The results showed that when the shells were removed immediately, participants consumed 22% more calories.

Sounds like a good excuse for leaving foodstuff uncleared on the dining table!

Ultimately I think that while we can use the best of psychological manoeuvres to assist ourselves in restricting our caloric intake (for whatever reason we may want to do so), it is infinitely more satisfying to cultivate a curiosity and appreciation for the plant (or animal) food we are eating. Our curiosity will lead us to knowing and we will be filled with wonder at the information that comes forth when we are searching with an intent for appreciation.

Then maybe the reasons for why we might have wanted to restrict our caloric intake might not matter so much anymore. We might even forget that we were hungry to begin with!

The pistachio seems a good nut to start with.

Filed Under: Plant Foods Tagged: , , ,
December 11, 2012 Leave a Comment

The gift of plant diversity to humankind

Even among the major crops like corn there is immense variety and more is making their way to us daily

Citing very rough figures, there are some 300,000 species of plants known to science Human beings use approximately 7000 species of plants for food, and of these 150 species are commercialized. The majority of the world however rely on just 4 crops, namely, wheat, rice, maize and soy.

The proportion of plant diversity that is used as human food may seem dismal indeed and much has been said about the pitfalls of being heavily reliant on just a handful of crop species. The point of this post however, is to suggest that nothing is actually going wrong, and that everything is going just fine.

Everything is working out just fine because plant-human interactions have proceeded to a point where the potential for a harmonious balanced lifestyle with our use of plants is available to more people than it has ever been before.

Even for many of those who are heavily reliant on the four major food crops, or are accustomed to utilizing a single type of fabric, or are beset by an addiction to caffeine or nicotine, plant diversity is catching up with them, giving them options.

We ARE in the Age of Options!

Information on just about any plant we might want to use for any given reason is now increasingly freely available. There are natural and often times inexpensive substitutes to just about everything, and it is possible to buy just about anything online, or at alternative lifestyle shops popping up everywhere.

Tapioca tubers on sale in Australia.

Where rice, potatos and wheat were once staple carbohydrates, we now have the option of amaranth, buckwheat, millet, quinoa. In terms of tubers there is taro, manioac, yam, sweet potato and a host of others.

Where once we had only refined cane sugar, we now have the option of Agave, Stevia, Toddy Palm.

For stimulating beverages like tea and coffee, we now have the option of also trying Yerba Mate and Mate de Coca.

Cotton is the predominant fibre in clothing and textiles, but clothing made from bamboo and hemp are gaining popularity. Panama hats, made from the fibres of members of the Cyclanthaceae, an obscure tropical American family of palm-like plants, are now sold in Queensland, as are bamboo hats, straw hats and paper hats.

All these options were certainly always present, at least to a limited number of people in very specific localities, but these products are certainly much more accessible now.

So what prevents people from exploring the diversity of food and plant-based materials?

Affluence would certainly be cited as a key reason, but I believe that affluence is actually a secondary reason. Moreover, isn’t it wonderful that even for the less affluent, staple crops like potato, wheat, rice and corn are also increasingly becoming more and more accessible, or various tree crops and tuberous crops can easily be cultivated for use.

On the individual level, one’s upbringing and emotional state are probably even bigger reasons for the reticence to try new foodstuffs and explore plant materials, particularly for those of us who are exposed to the great range of options in developed countries.

But even with all these feelings of reticence on the part of a number of individuals, new options continue to inundate every neighborhood from the small shops to the large supermarkets. And exposure to all this diversity has a gentle way of teasing reticence apart. Plants have their means of finding their ways onto our tables and into our hearts.

I was thoroughly convinced of this when a Caucasian lady I talked to recently told me that she relishes durian – the very fruit that smells like unwashed socks to most other Caucasians.

We are constantly showered by the gifts of plants, and whether a person chooses to use just a small portion or to explore the depths of these gifts is a personal choice.

Whether we spend our lives limiting our staples to rice, potato, wheat and corn, or try every unconventional grain available, we are all benefiting from the increased availability of a diversity of plant products.

My personal journey has been filled to the brim trying out unfamiliar plant foods or plant products, and it is such a joyous experience I can scarcely imagine not trying something new every week now. This is one of my ways of embracing plant diversity in our modern times, and I think that by far the easiest way to start building an appreciation for plants is by appreciating the food and drinks that we enjoy and the fibres that contact our person.

Jute Shoes in an Australian shop

To partake of the flesh of a plant or to feel the comfort of a plant-fibre woven shirt on my skin is a most immediate and tactile was to achieve conscious communion with plants. And whether we know it or not, we are all already achieving communion with plants everyday, with every breadth we take, with every cup of coffee we drink, and with every molecule of carbohydrate we ingest.

In closing, there is nothing wrong with not knowing where our food comes from. But for those who are drawn to seeking knowledge, it is infinitely more satisfying to be deliberately aware of our close relationship with plants, and it spurs us to a more deliberate moving toward the exploration of the wonderful avenues plants diversity has to offer.

Filed Under: Appreciation, Philosophy Tagged: , , ,
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