High in the cloud forests of the Tropical Andes, picking her way through the misted foliage of Las Orquídeas National Park, NYBG botanist Paola Pedraza-Peñalosa goes about the business of collecting plant specimens. This northwest Colombian landscape is renowned for its biodiversity–it is said to have more examples of plant, animal, and microbial life than almost any other ecosystem on earth. But that’s not necessarily the only reason that Pedraza, a Colombian native and Associate Curator of our Institute of Systematic Botany, has returned. While her work is indeed groundbreaking, her motivations extend well beyond the everyday specimen collections that take place day and night here in South America.

Far from the mere process of cataloging plant life, it is the shrinking timeframe and the aggravating factors surrounding it that make Paola’s undertaking so significant.

Once controlled by armed revolutionaries, indicative of the struggles facing Colombia throughout its late history, Las Orquídeas–named for some 200 species of orchids that grow there–remained off limits to the efforts of botanists. Recording the diversity of plant life within its borders became a pipe dream for an academic community anxious to uncover the Andres’ secrets. But the recent withdrawal of these militias has opened the park to exploration and conservation efforts. And with the proverbial gates now open, scientists face a new suite of challenges–many of them a greater threat to the plants and animals being studied than the armed gunmen ever were.
read more »

You’ll find them clinging to rock faces like flecks of gray paint, or carpeting a tree trunk with skeins of red whisps. Lichens come in myriad shapes, sizes, colors, and consistencies. But while they’re often overlooked during your average hike, they’re worth giving a spare glance the next time you’re outdoors–lichens play an important part in the ecosystem. Few know this so well as the NYBG‘s Dr. James Lendemer. Like many of the Garden’s globetrotting scientists–Michael Balick, Bill Buck, and Roy Halling, to name a few–Lendemer’s field odysseys carry him well beyond the laboratory door in his hunt for specimens. In recent years, that chalks up to long days spent trekking through the Great Smoky Mountains of the eastern United States.

For the uninitiated, lichens are cryptogams–fungi that reproduce by spores, as with other fungi and some groups of plants. But unlike either, lichens are unique in that they’re composite organisms, often a symbiotic combination of fungi and algae. Think of them as codependent roommates; the former acts as a sort of bodyguard for the latter in exchange for nourishing sugars from the algae’s photosynthesis. At large, lichens make the perfect bird nests by some avian standards, and the growths also have a penchant for breaking down dead trees and rocks while providing nitrogen for soil. Unassuming as they are, they’re integral to maintaining healthy biomes.
read more »

Deep in the Forest, Rebecca Policello–a student from Ossining High School–treks through the underbrush. She isn’t a wayward sightseer, but rather a curious student interested in something others normally overlook: Eastern Redback salamanders (Plethodon cinereus). Spending their entire lives on land and even thriving in urban environments such as The New York Botanical Garden, the subjects of Rebecca’s study could reveal new information about the decline that is sweeping over amphibian populations worldwide.

The amphibian decline has been primarily attributed to the disease Chytridiomycosis, which is caused by a pathogenic fungus, B. dendrobatidis. Teamed up with Dr. Jim Lewis of Fordham University and Ms. Jessica Arcate Schuler of The New York Botanical Garden, Rebecca set out to determine if changes in the immediate area due to urbanization are enough to impact the salamanders’ defenses.
read more »

Dr. Roy Halling’s jet-setting ways are, while enviable, a product of necessity–the world’s most outlandish fungi won’t scribble themselves into the mycological register. But while his travels across the globe often carry him to dim conifer forests, sweltering jungles, and likely the grimiest reaches of the most foetid swamps, it was in a far less feral environment that Roy found his latest winning specimen.

While visiting Australia, Dr. Halling–the NYBG‘s resident Curator of Mycology–came upon a rather strange customer (though delightful to any mushroom fanatic) growing in a friend’s suburban Brisbane garden. It’s not altogether uncommon down under. However, seeing something so visibly sinister popping up alongside your vegetables here in the northeastern United States could be cause for confusion, alarm, fascination, or cries of impending apocalypse in the vein of Chicken Little. It’s just that odd-looking.
read more »

February 6, 2012; Isla Londonderry, Bahía Isabel, approximately 54º59′S, 70º52′W

The engines started early this morning, and shortly afterward we hit rough seas. Those who had stayed up late had been warned. I was not amongst them, but fortunately, I found it a pleasant surprise. When we came out onto the deck we were in a secluded harbor, surrounded by snow-covered peaks. In short order the sleet started up again, and in no time at all, it was accumulating on the deck. I guess it is a bit colder than usual, but I haven’t noticed that.

Laura standing on the sleet-covered deck

read more »

February 5, 2012; Isla Londonderry, Puerto Fortuna, approximately 54º54′S, 70º26′W

Last night after dinner, I stood under the tarp that tents the hold where our dryers are kept, listening to the rain. Juan came out and said, “You enjoy this weather!” I looked at him quizzically, and he continued, “I can tell by the expression on your face.” And you know what? It’s true! I love bad weather–maybe not snow, it’s too soft–the aural component is critical. As long as I can remember I have loved rainy days, and the local version with sleet only adds to my delight. And a good thing too!

After everyone has been dropped off to their collecting sites, a big storm begins to roll in

This morning we moved to another harbor on Isla O’Brien. The weather forecast was not encouraging. However, the sun kept trying to come out, and all day it shone brightly, on and off, but only for a few minutes at a time. In this region, the weather is a losing battle. Those little bursts of sunshine provided momentary false hope in a day that ended up being dominated by sleet. In between the bouts of sun, the clouds would thicken, the wind would blow, and the sleet would pelt us relentlessly. Thank the heavens for good rain gear!

read more »

February 4, 2012; Isla O’Brien, Caleta Americana, approximately 54º53′S, 70º23′W 

I told myself last night, shortly after I went to my bunk, that I would have a better attitude today.

The ship moved in the early morning to our field site for the day, Seno Ventisquero in Isla Grande de Tierra del Fuego. I was summoned to the bridge from my bunk, so I quickly dressed and went upstairs. The seas were very rough and the captain wanted to explain that rather than heading for our tentatively agreed upon site, we would instead be tying-up in a calm harbor at approximately 54º45′S, 70º19′W. I always leave these decisions to him anyway so it was just a formality.

Last chance to collect next to a glacier

The day didn’t look like it was going to be a good one; the clouds were so low that they seemed to be barely hovering above the waves, and sleet pelted the ship’s deck. As a consequence, most of us were a little slow in getting ready to head into the field. Lily and I boarded a Zodiac and were taken to what appeared to be a coastal southern beech forest with a small river running through it. Throughout the entire ride we suffered through continual sleet, but, the moment we stepped ashore it stopped! Surely a good sign!

read more »

February 3, 2012; Isla Grande de Tierra del Fuego, Fiordo Garibaldi, approximately 54º58′S, 69º49′W

This morning we collected in Brazo Inutil (approximately 54º58′S, 69º49′W). The day began with patches of blue sky and the promise of a nice day, but it was colder than it had been recently, which I should have known signaled a change in the weather. The collecting wasn’t great, but I know at this stage that I have seen and personally collected much of the flora, and so have to fight surrendering to boredom. Most of my time has been spent looking for mosses and I have not really paid great attention to lichens. NYBG now has three lichenologists, as well as a new lichen graduate student joining us soon. My colleagues at the Garden, as well as various researchers outside of my home institution, have asked me to be on the lookout for certain groups of lichens, and I have decided that now is the time for me to do so! Once I have found what mosses I can at any site, I then devote some time to looking for lichens.

At a safe distance from the glacier in the Garibaldi Fiord

read more »

February 2, 2012; Isla Gordon, middle arm of Bahía Tres Brazos, approximately 54º58′S, 69º41′W

You might have noticed that I didn’t write yesterday. About 5 p.m. I came down with a bad headache and went to my bunk. Apparently I missed some bad seas, including 9-10 foot waves in the Beagle Channel as we moved sites. I got up around 8 p.m., decided against dinner, took a couple of aspirin and went back to bed. I didn’t get up until about 8 a.m. I still have a mild headache, but felt that I needed to deal with yesterday’s collections.

So, while the others are out collecting this morning, I got yesterday’s haul onto the dryer and am now catching up on my blog. I had hoped to do this on the deck because it wasn’t raining this morning, and there were even a few patches of sun, but typical of the region, the skies have darkened again, and it is now spitting rain (at least not sleet or snow). I have managed to be able to sit outside, but under cover, which is a real treat because, once again, the scenery is spectacular. My  vista is a row of snow-capped peaks, with much of the snow fresh. Usually when it is raining at sea level it is snowing on the mountains and since yesterday was colder than usual, the snow is lower down on the slopes.

The three glaciers of Seno Pia

read more »

January 31, 2012; Isla Gordon, Bahía Romanche, 54º57′S, 69º30′W

The engines started at 7 a.m. as we headed toward our morning collecting site, Ventisquero Alemania (ventisquero is an archaic Spanish term for “glacier,” and this one is located at approximately 54º53′S, 69º25′W). The weather seemed to want to remind us that we were in the sub-Arctic; it was cold and rainy. When we arrived, the weather caused some hesitation amongst our group about heading out, but in the end we all suited up and were soon on our way.

A wet, frozen, but happy Matt von Konrat dispalys a bag full of great liverworts

I had planned to collect at a site featuring large, moss-covered boulders and an open Nothofagus woodland that I had previously seen a photograph of, but I made a logistical error. When the Zodiac left me on the shore, I soon realized that I was not in the site I had seen in pictures, but that, rather, I was trapped on a steep, densely vegetated hill. Laura had gotten off the Zodiac with me and neither of us wanted to stay where we were. We returned to the beach and tried signaling for an early pick-up.

read more »