Blog Archive:
Beneath Our Feet
Cast in clay
By Max Helmberger, graduate student, New York State Agricultural Experiment Station, Geneva, New York, USA
Growing up an only child on a dirt road in the Northern Minnesota woods, I spent a lot of time outside, overturning the many thousands of glacier-strewn rocks around my house (at least the ones small enough to move) and gazing in awe at the centipedes, isopods, and invasive European earthworms underneath (which were promptly relocated to our compost bin). My first interest in soil in an academic context came the year after I graduated from high school, when I took a soil science course at my local community college. That class instilled in me a firm conviction that soil is humankind's most important natural resource, and clued me in to the fact that, in soil, there's far more than meets the eye.
After transferring to the University of Minnesota in Duluth to major in Biology, I took an entomology class and worked as a research assistant in an aboveground plant-insect ecology lab. I had always loved insects, arthropods, and invertebrates in general, and I greatly enjoyed the coursework and research experience, but wanted to connect it with my love of soil. I started searching Google Scholar for “soil arthropods”, and a few dozen soil ecology articles later, I was hooked, and I eventually sought out and accepted a M.S. position in the lab of Dr. Kyle Wickings at the New York State Agricultural Experiment Station, a satellite campus of Cornell University located in Geneva, New York. What I didn't know as I was reading all those papers, was that I would end up reporting all the knowledge I gained from them in a most unusual way.
Clay animation, for those unaware, is a form of stop-motion animation in which clay models are photographed, moved slightly, photographed again, and so on. The pictures are strung together and played in rapid succession to give the appearance of movement. Wallace and Gromit is arguably the most famous example of the medium. When I was 7 years old, my grandmother took me to an hour-long class in clay animation. I made a video of an anthropomorphic flower dancing to some sort of classical music riff. The VHS tape is certainly hiding somewhere in my house. Fast forward to my undergraduate entomology class, and I drew on those old memories for the course's final project to make a clay animation video on the life cycle of the gallmaking fly Eurosta solidaginis, the main study organism of my research advisors’ laboratory. The video was crude by my current standards, but got me a good grade in the class nevertheless.
At Cornell, where I'm currently working on my M.S. in Entomology, I’ve had the opportunity to draw from a unique funding source called the Extension/Outreach assistantship. Instead of working off a grant or being a teaching assistant (something difficult to do when based at a satellite research campus rather than the main university campus), I earned my stipend via progress on a variety of extension and outreach projects of my advisor's and my own devising. When applying for the assistantship and listing my project objectives, my advisor and some of the faculty members on the Extension/Outreach assistantship committee were skeptical until they saw the E. solidaginis video as a proof-of-concept, and in Spring semester of 2017, I was off to the races. To avoid some of the mistakes I made with my previous clay animation, I was very careful with how I went about planning and "filming" the videos. I wrote out all of my narration in advance as well a clear script of what specific actions I would portray. Then, I timed myself reciting the narration for each scene, and so could know in advance how many frames of animation I needed. This, combined with a nice DSLR camera as a Hanukkah present from my parents, would allow for much more cohesive and polished videos than my tale of the gallmaking fly. In the end, I produced three videos, Life Cycle of Entomopathogenic Nematodes, The Soil Food Web, and Ecosystem Services in Agriculture (though the latter includes some functions performed by aboveground organisms). My funding next semester will be from the same Extension/Outreach assistantship, so I plan to produce at least one more video in addition to my other projects, possibly two. From start to finish (writing the script, creating the models, creating the set, taking the photographs, editing the video, and recording the narration), each video took me between 15 and 20 hours to make. Each video consists of 350-400 individual images, with some being repeated here and there. They’ve been received well in the department, and the entomopathogenic nematode video has even been incorporated into several extension talks. The rest of the videos have ben showcased in a few classroom settings, and I am hoping to further expand their reach. I plan to make at least two additional videos in the fall, as I will again be funded through an Extension/Outreach assistantship.
My ultimate goal is that these videos provide an accessible way of communicating soil ecology and biodiversity to lay audiences, especially young ones. Despite being the prototypical "science nerd" growing up, and being an avid consumer of books, documentaries, and Web resources about the natural world, many of the soil animals I read about during my first forays into the primary literature were completely unknown to me. I had no idea there were mites beyond dust mites and the various parasitic taxa, and certainly didn't know there were any mites as cute as a galumnid oribatid. I had never even heard of diplurans, symphylans, pauropods, and some of the other more obscure soil organisms. I knew what a pseudoscorpion was, but didn’t know I could find them in the peat bog less than a mile from my house. And that rubbed me the wrong way. It's hard for young people to learn about the marvels of soil biodiversity, especially on their own. I know that 7 year-old Max would have gotten much more out of these videos than from one about a dancing flower, and he would have started playing around with Tullgren funnels much earlier than junior year of college. As such, if you enjoy my videos, I encourage you to share them however and wherever you like. They are available online as a YouTube playlist.
The Many Roles of Protists in the Soil
By Dr. Enrique Lara, University of Neuchâtel, Switzerland
This is part two in four part soil protist series! Part 1 can be read here.
Figure 1: This unidentified amoeba is one of the members of the extremely diverse protist community inhabiting the soil of a common indoor flower pot; new species can be found even in the least exotic environments! This species feeds on yeasts and bacteria.
Protists are extremely diverse in soils, often reaching thousands of species of protists and fungi per gram. If we bring these numbers to our scale of perception, this means that a little piece of soil the size of a fingernail hosts a number of species comparable to the diversity of insects in a hectare of tropical rainforest! Like in the jungle, the different organisms play various roles in the soil ecosystem. Globally, these roles can be divided in three great categories: osmotrophs, phototrophs and phagotrophs.
Osmotrophs absorb their food from the environment; they are unable to engulf preys. They play a fundamental role in the decomposition of dead organic matter produced by plants. Mostly fungi take this role, but they are not alone! Another very common group of soil osmotrophs is the oomycetes, which closely resemble fungi but are now classified within the stramenopiles- a group very distant to fungi together with many algae such as the marine kelps! Some organisms evolved from photosynthetic ancestors to live in the absence of light and became secondarily osmotrophs, like the green alga Polytomella. Osmotrophic organisms often tend to become parasites during evolution; they start the evolutionary process as mostly free-living organisms that infect occasionally any potentially weakened host. Then, they become gradually more and more specialized and virulent. Many species of fungi and oomycetes are well known plant parasites, and are responsible for huge economic losses every year. Others infect animals (including humans) and even other fungi! Other groups are entirely parasitic such as the Phytomyxea (plant parasites) and the Apicomplexans (animal parasites, including amongst others the agent of malaria Plasmodium falciparum), which can be extremely abundant and diverse in soils. However, osmotrophs can also become Mr. Niceguy and collaborate with plants: mycorrhiza are the most widespread and famous example.
Being a phototroph, obtaining energy from the sun like a plant, in soils may seem contradictory; however, phototrophic organisms are numerous and diverse as well. Logically, they are limited to the upper part of the soil that is reached by light; they are responsible (together with mosses and cyanobacteria) for the formation of so-called cryptogamic crusts, which are common in deserts and high altitude soils. Some of these groups are well known in lakes and rivers (like diatoms, green algae, xanthophytes), but most often species are specific to soils as they went through specific adaptations to be able to colonize these environments.
Many protists in soils are phagotrophic, which means that they prey on other organisms through phagocytosis (just like the macrophages of our immune system). Bacteria are a common food source for them, and it has been shown that predation by protists is the main source of mortality for soil bacteria. By eating these preys, nutrients are released and taken up by plants; it has been shown that this phenomenon, coined the soil microbial loop, is key in driving plant productivity. However, all bacteria are not equally preyed upon by protists, and food preferences vary drastically even between closely related protist species. On the other hand, bacteria are by no means defenceless and produce secondary metabolites that can kill protist predators. This make trophic interactions between protists and bacteria extremely complex. But bacteria are by no means the only prey of protists. Fungi are also consumed, and some species of ciliates possess a cytostome (=cell mouth) that prevents them from eating anything else; they are simply unable to consume bacteria! Others are top predators and will feed only on other protists. Some, like the tiny shelled amoeba Cryptodifflugia, are able to kill even nematodes, and practice a kind of pack hunting to slay their victims which weigh about hundred times more than them!
Figure 2: A testate amoeba, Centropyxis aerophila, hunting for small protists and fungi in its favourite environments, forest litter. It uses its pseudopod to move forward and capture preys by immobilizing them before engulfing.
The situation is complicated even more as some organisms may belong to two functional categories at the same time. Many soil flagellates and amoebae are capable of both actively hunting for preys and absorbing nutrients from the environment, thus combining phagotrophy and osmotrophy. Phototrophy and phagotrophy are also often combined, especially in wet soils like in peatlands (where it is largely practised by golden alga like Ochromonas, Synura and Mallomonas). Altogether, functional diversity of eukaryotes in soils is immense. Our knowledge on their diversity is now at a turning point where it starts to be evaluated, but still remains an open field for new, exciting discoveries.