Middle and High School … from a Montessori Point of View
Earlier this spring, we had an excellent immersion trip to Nashville. The primary purpose was to visit the capitol and meet with Memphis’ State Representative Mark Kernell.
But we also had time to visit the Abintra Montessori School in Nashville (who returned the visit last month), and have an excellent hike along a limestone-bedded stream in Montgomery Bell State Park. The hike, however, was not without some controversy.
The Shiloh National Battlefield is only a couple hours east of Memphis (or west of Nashville), and its proximity to Corinth, MS, and a state park with a hydroelectric dam, make it an excellent place for an immersion trip during the cycle when we study the U.S. Civil War and electromagnetism. Two years ago, on a couple beautiful, sunny days in the middle of spring (early April), almost on the anniversary of the battle, we made the trip.
We drove over on a Tuesday morning, and since our very nice cabins at Pickwick Landing State Park were not quite ready yet, we ate the lunch we’d brought with us at a picnic shelter on the park grounds. The choice of picnic shelter number 6 was serendipitous, because not only was it beautifully located, but just down the hill, at the edge of the water, is an excellent outcrop of fossiliferous limestone.
After unloading at the cabins, we took a short, afternoon drive to see the hydroelectric dam.
The next morning we hiked along the Confederate line of advance during the Battle of Shiloh.
It was a relatively long hike, but useful in that it allowed students a feel at least for the scale of the battle, and the conditions the soldiers endured. There was also a nice museum at the end, with an interesting video and an excellent demonstration from one of the park rangers (you need to book an appointment ahead of time).
Finally, on Thursday morning, on our way back to Memphis, we stopped at the Civil War Interpretive Center in Corinth, Mississippi. The museum is excellent, especially the Stream of American History, which is abstract enough that it makes a great puzzle for students to figure out.
The map below shows the locations of the stops, and has links to the posts about each stop.
View Shiloh Immersion in a larger map
On the first morning of the Coastal Science Camp, between dip netting and seining at the estuary, we tried sampling beneath the seabed using a little coring device which I seem to have to forgotten the name of.
Usually, they can see the little holes in the seabed where the benthic macrofauna live, but not this time. All the sediment pouring into the Mississippi Sound from this spring’s swollen rivers had made the waters too turbid to see through. So we were coring blind.
The corer is simply a metal (stainless steel) barrel with a rubber piston inside. The piston is connected to a handle at the top with metal rod. To sample, you put the tip of the barrel at the sediment-water interface and push the barrel into the sediment at the same time holding the handle steady to keep the piston from moving into the sediment. Holding the piston steady provides a little suction on the inside of the barrel, which helps the barrel move into the sediment, and keeps the sediment in the barrel when you pull it out. However, it does help to put your hand on the bottom of the barrel as soon as possible to keep the sediment from falling out, even if that means sticking your hand into the sediment itself.
Once you’ve recovered the sediment, you extrude it into a sieve. Sometimes you can see a little layering in the extruding sediment, but we did not take the time to try to interpret it since our focus was on finding benthic fauna.
The sieve’s mesh is pretty coarse, so anything sand sized or smaller is washed out as you gently rock it back and forth in the water. We did not find much. Mostly small pebbles. Without being able to see the seabed our sampling pattern was pretty random.
The more persistent groups (the class had been broken into groups of two or three) did find a couple things, including a polychaete, which is a segmented worm.
They also turned up a small, clawed, lobster-like organism:
We also found the burrow of an unknown organism, surrounded by a clayey cast. It looked very much like some of the fossilized burrow casts we saw at Coon Creek.
This type of sampling was not everyone’s cup of tea, however. Fortunately, the water was shallow and warm, so a good time was had by all.
It was about 1.5 kilometers from the Research Lab to the estuary where we spent our first morning sampling (overview of the trip is here).
Walking along the beach to get there, we could see the beach houses to the right of us, across the narrow road of East Beach Drive, standing tall on columns to keep them above the reach of the storms. According to Stephanie, our guide, the storm surge from Hurricane Katrina in 2005, reached awfully close to the tops of the columns. The research lab, which is not elevated, lost an entire building to that hurricane. Indeed, much of the coast is still recovering from Katrina’s damage.
The white sandy beach, on the other hand, looked beautiful, which was a bit odd. After all, how did it survive the storm? Furthermore, when you think about it, this beach is located behind a string of barrier islands, which protect the coast from the full force of the waves coming out of the Gulf of Mexico, so how come there is enough wave energy to maintain a sandy beach. The relatively calm waters should allow finer grained sediment, like clay and silt, to settle out, and this area really should be a marsh. The answer, it seems, is that this is an artificial beach. Every few years, thousands of tons of sand are dumped along the coast to “replenish” the beachs.
This coastline really should be a tidal marsh, like the one we found when we got to the estuary. These Gulf-coast salt-marshes are fronted by a relatively short version of smooth cordgrass (spartina alterniflora), backed up by the taller, and more common black needlerush (Juncus roemerianus Scheele) .
Now, if this is a low-energy environment that allows silt and clay can settle out of the water column, where does the sand go so that it has to be replenished every so often? It is gradually moved along the coast by longshore drift.
Waves hit the beach at an angle. As they break, the turbulent swash pushes sand up the beach at the same angle as the movement of the waves. As the wave retreats, the backwash, drawn by gravity, pulls sand perpendicularly down towards the water. The net effect, is that sand gradually moves down the coastline with each swash and backwash of the waves.
Since dumping tons of sand is expensive, engineers try other things to prevent the sand from running off down the beach. Someone, a very long time ago, had the great idea to build a wall sticking out from the beach to impede the sand in its unwanted migration. This type of wall is called a groin (or sometimes a groyne in polite company), and it does stop the sand. In fact, the sand builds up on the upwind side of the groin. Unfortunately, it does not stop the longshore drift on the downwind side, and that results in the erosion of a bay on that side.
Beaches are also great places to find random things washing up. We lucked upon an unusually large pufferfish (family: tetraodontidae). It was quite puffed up. It was also quite dead.
Pufferfish are famous for being extremely poisonous. According to the National Geographic page on pufferfish, their tetrodotoxin over a thousand times more poisonous than cyanide, and there is no known antidote.
After surface sampling with the dip nets, and subsurface sampling with the little corers, we tried sampling the water column using a small seine.
Seining requires teamwork, and I was pleased to see everyone working well together, focused on the job at hand.
Hauling on the nets, with the smell of salt in the air, resurrected long neglected memories of fishermen at work on tropical, Atlantic beaches. Back then they were going after fish for the market, here, with our much finer meshed net, we were looking for anything interesting in the water column.
Everyone got touch a ctenophore (comb jelly), which I will note is not a jellyfish, and is also not poisonous.
Students also had a chance to hold a croaker (a fish of the family Sciaenidae), and feel it croak.
Our guide was great. She was quite knowledgeable about the fauna we ran into, and very good at sharing information.
Interestingly, we were not the only ones out seining that morning. There was a small group from the research lab looking for skates for a research project. I think they said that this was their third time out looking, but like us, they did not find any elasmobranchs (not counting the one dead specimen we ran into while dip netting).
Doing the “sting ray shuffle” through the shallow waters of the estuary of a small stream and the Mississippi Sound, we used dip nets to collect organisms from the sediment-water interface.
We found mostly invertebrates. There were lots of small white crabs. Most, but not all, were too small to pinch.
We also grabbed quite a number of translucent shrimp.
And there were a lot of hermit crabs.
A couple students also picked up some small snakes, but they quickly slipped through the dip net’s mesh and escaped.
Simple and effective, dip netting was a nice way to start the Coastal Sciences Camp.
As you may have guessed from the previous posts about waterspouts and the dolphin, we’ve been on the Gulf coast for the last few days. Specifically, we were visiting the Gulf Coast Research Lab‘s Marine Education Center for two days for our end-of-year trip.
It was excellent. The weather was perfect; sunny with lots of cumuliform clouds for shade but little rain. However, the what really made the trip work was that we had a good, interesting, and varied program, directed by an excellent instructor, Stephanie T..
For reference (to link all posts about the Coastal Science Camp):
View Coastal Sciences Camp, Gulf Coast Research Lab in a larger map
We weren’t looking for them at the time, and later when we were looking for them we didn’t find them, but on our trip back to the GCRL-MEC a dolphin decided it wanted to play in our boat’s wake.
It would jump through the face of the bow wave. Usually horizontally, but vertically once or twice.
Dolphins usually travel in pods of up to a dozen or so individuals. This one, however, was alone. We’d seen it earlier, while we were walking on the beach and picking up trash. The dolphin may have been playing or eating, but it was certainly scaring the small fish. A couple birds took advantage of this to make their own catches, with near vertical dives into the gently rolling waters of the sound.
It was wonderful to observe.
