The blueberry barrens of downeast Maine: never barren, rarely blue. In October they turn almost every other color of the rainbow, including all possible shades of red. Some reach the barely believable degree of saturation seen in this field on the way to Calais.
Side note that I think is important here: Calais and callus are pronounced the same.
Another note that is not important: I have a friend who for years thought there were “blueberry barons” in Maine.
I drew this to illustrate another Forum paper for the scientific journal Oikos. Here is a summary of the study, “Why sex matters in phenological research” (by Nakazawa et al.):
As climate change shifts the timing of the seasons, it messes with different organisms in different ways—which can disrupt the way they interact. A predator might emerge before its prey does, for example, creating a trophic mismatch. Males and females of the same species can get out of whack, too, to the potential detriment of the next generation.
These Forum authors confront that idea of “sexual mismatch,” pointing out that males of many species gear up for mating before females do—or vice versa—as each sex responds differently to environmental cues. Their model shows that both sex-specific timing and trophic timing play important roles in the dynamics of a population.
But their literature reviews find that sex-specific information from the real world is scarce. Among other data limitations, studies of breeding cues tended to be male-biased for birds and mammals and female-biased for fish and insects. Notably, males had more variable timing than females for several species where the two sexes look different from each other—contrary to a conventional view that females are more likely to shift their timing.
Speculating that sexually dimorphic species may be especially vulnerable to a changing climate, the authors outline a more sex-conscious research agenda for the future (including collecting sex information during population monitoring, and using eDNA to gauge sex ratios) to better understand the ecological impacts of climate change.
I drew this to illustrate Forum paper for the scientific journal Oikos. Here is a summary of the study, “Dead or alive: carbon as currency to integrate disease and ecosystem ecology theory” (by Seabloom et al.):
Disease and ecosystem ecology are treated as separate disciplines, but we know they're intertwined—so how can we study them together? Think in terms of carbon, suggests this Forum paper. Most studies of disease stop tracking organisms after they die, ignoring their ongoing role in the ecosystem. By shifting to units of carbon rather than individuals, we can keep track of dead hosts as well as living ones (not to mention partially infected hosts that shed dead tissue).
The authors present four models focusing on plant and phytoplankton pathogens to explore this coupling of disease and ecosystem perspectives. They show that disease spread is mediated by the decomposition rates of dead hosts, while pathogens influence carbon cycling between live and dead biomass. Their modeling also predicts that disease is more devastating to ecosystems with fast carbon turnover, like lakes and oceans, relative to slow-turnover ecosystems like boreal forests—just a few examples of insights gained by unifying the two fields of study.
I painted this tern from a wooden blind on Eastern Egg Rock, where puffins are the most famous (but not the only) birds. That was in June, during my week as an Audubon instructor.
These three sketches were from a subsequent trip to the rock in July with members of the Wabanaki community.
Top right: eider. Right: tern on tent. Above: tern on outhouse, with fish. (Incidentally, the outhouse itself is painted to look like a fish.)
Abby McBride
SKETCH BIOLOGIST
Contact: abbymcb@alum.mit.edu
© Abby McBride 2014-2024