Outdoor cats are probably the largest anthropogenic reason for declining bird populations in North America: it’s estimated that they kill a couple billion each year. You can see the cats in action at the National Geographic and the University of Georgia’s Kitty Cams, which attaches small cameras to outdoor cats.
My biology class is wrapping up our section on ecology. We started by putting together a food-web of all the plants and animals that we’ve found on campus. Now we’re trying to fill in some of the missing organisms, including cats.
I asked Scott Woodbury to give my Biology students another tour of their campus. The last time was for the Environmental Science class, with a focus on invasive species. This time we spent a little more time identifying species for students’ ecology projects; they each had to identify and research a species found on the campus.
One of the more interesting finds was a wild plum (Prunus americana) that we found on the slope at the boundary between the grassy/shrubby slope and the taller trees of the forest above.
The plums are edible. They’re supposed to be good for pies and sauces. The Shaw Nature Center finds that these tall shrubs/small trees are a good sellers at their plant sales.
Propagation from seed is apparently a little tricky. The best way is to process them through the digestive system of a coyote. Alternatively, you have to let them ferment for a while to break down the outer coating of the seeds.
They would be a nice, native addition to our orchard.
A 2011 article from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration linked recent severe droughts in the Mediterranean to anthropogenic climate change. Now Francesco Femia and Caitlin Werrell assert that the drought (and agricultural mismanagement) lead to the displacement of a million and a half people in Syria, which helped spark the current civil war.
WikiLeaks, Drought and Syria by Thomas Friedman: Cables from 2008, outline Syria’s growing recognition of the potential for civil unrest because of the drought.
First off, the Shut Ins are narrower constrictions in the river valley formed when stream flows into an area of harder rock. The hard rock, in this case an old (1.5 billion year old) rhyolite flow, is relatively resistant to erosion, especially the side-to-side erosion that flattens out little flood plains as small rivers meander through the foothills of old mountains like the Ozarks. So the stream only erodes downward through the hard rocks creating a narrow gorge. As they say here: the river’s “Shut In”.
When I told people that I wanted to do a few camping trips this summer, the number one recommendation was the Shut Ins. And I can see why. I took my boys and they had an awesome time.
“It’s like the City Museum. Only real.”
— Overheard at Johnson’s Shut Ins
The Shut Ins are a maze of narrow channels, the old igneous rocks carved smooth by the water and its gravelly bed load over millions of years. A great place for kids to traipse through and explore. I bit like a water-park version of the City Museum in St. Louis.
The pattern of the channels is largely determined by the jointing in the rocks, because the joints offer easier pathways for water and erosion. There are at least two obvious sets of joints in the rocks, but I would not be surprised if they overlay other patterns given how old the rocks are. As it is, however, the erosion through the joints creates lots of neat little chutes.
Since the Shut Ins are only a couple hours away from St. Louis, they’re a pretty popular tourist attraction.
There’s a lot of science that can be done here, however, that would make this a good location for an immersion trip, especially since Elephant Hills State Park (with wonderful spheroidal weathering) is close by. The camping facilities at the Shut Ins State Park are new and quite nice, having been completely rebuilt with some of the $100 million in settlement money from the Ameren power company after the park was flooded by their Taum Sauk reservoir breach in 2005.
Unfortunately, the method of the demise of the worm-eating warbler that flew into our window appears to be more the rule than the exception. David Sibley (2010) calculates that windows are the number one, people-influenced, cause of death for birds.
UCLA professor Peter Nonacs teaches behavioral theory by letting students “cheat” in his “insanely hard” exams by letting them use whatever resources they want, including the web and working together. His objective is to have his students learn game theory by actually practicing it:
Much of evolution and natural selection can be summarized in three short words: “Life is games.” In any game, the object is to win—be that defined as leaving the most genes in the next generation, getting the best grade on a midterm, or successfully inculcating critical thinking into your students. An entire field of study, Game Theory, is devoted to mathematically describing the games that nature plays. Games can determine why ant colonies do what they do, how viruses evolve to exploit hosts, or how human societies organize and function.
My Environmental Science students are facing a similar problem with their final project. It’s a group project — their objective is to revamp the recycling system at school to make it work better — and I’ve been trying to get out of their way as much as possible. Not only do they have to figure out how to solve an environmental problem (they have an outline of how to do so in their text, but they have to figure out how to put it into practice), but they also have to figure out how to work together as a group to get the project done and write up a final report. The latter problem tends to be the harder, but in having to figure out how to lead, follow, and work as a team, it’s probably the more important lesson in the long term.
I think that one of the reasons I really like this diagram is because it places the school as a small piece in a much larger ecological context. A student in my Environmental Science class drew it for an assignment. We’d hiked all the way from the creek to the ridge in the company of Scott Woodbury from the Shaw Nature Center, and I asked them to draw a diagram showing the different ecological regions. I’d expected top down maps, which is what almost all the other students did. When I asked why the perspective view, she said just didn’t know how to draw trees from the top down.