Thomas C. Andres is an Honorary Research Associate at the Garden.
President “Bobby”: Mr. Gardner, do you agree with Ben, or do you think that we can stimulate growth through temporary incentives?
[Long pause] Chance the Gardener: As long as the roots are not severed, all is well. And all will be well in the garden. President “Bobby”: In the garden. Chance the Gardener: Yes. In the garden, growth has it seasons. First comes spring and summer, but then we have fall and winter. And then we get spring and summer again. President “Bobby”: Spring and summer. Chance the Gardener: Yes. President “Bobby”: Then fall and winter. Chance the Gardener: Yes. Benjamin Rand: I think what our insightful young friend is saying is that we welcome the inevitable seasons of nature, but we’re upset by the seasons of our economy. Chance the Gardener: Yes! There will be growth in the spring! Benjamin Rand: Hmm! Chance the Gardener: Hmm! President “Bobby”: Hm. Well, Mr. Gardner, I must admit that is one of the most refreshing and optimistic statements I’ve heard in a very, very long time.
[Benjamin Rand applauds] President “Bobby”: I admire your good, solid sense. That’s precisely what we lack on Capitol Hill.
Drawing by Honoré Daumier, 1865
This is an exact quotation from the 1979 movie Being There and in a sad way, it is remarkably relevant today. Actually, we should be so lucky as to have politicians listen to a gardener, even one as simple-minded as the protagonist in this movie. I can only think of a few examples in recent times of national politicians who were gardeners. President Jimmy Carter was a peanut farmer, and Michelle Obama has become an avid kitchen gardener at the White House. Less known, at least in the United States, is that Ariel Sharon, whose father was an agronomist, was a commercial pumpkin grower in Israel. Thomas Jefferson was probably our most famous politician who was also a gardener. Jefferson introduced to the United States a number of new crops, including Brussels sprouts, eggplant, cauliflower, and broccoli, that he acquired overseas while the envoy to France. He was also innovative in cultivation practices and in promoting proper stewardship of the land.
If you have been focused on local, state, and national budget crises, and the wars abroad (including the elimination of terrorists), you may not have noticed that it is finally spring. And with that, it is time for us to turn our thoughts to planting the garden because, no matter what the pundits say, summer and fall will follow.
That said, there is gardening, and then there is the sport of extreme gardening.
Growers of the giant pumpkin, i.e., the species Cucurbita maxima, are in a class of their own. This is not gardening for the faint-hearted. Ever since the last behemoth pumpkin was weighed in 2010, there has been a clock counting down the seconds until the next weigh-off this fall. Even throughout the bleakest part of winter, these growers have been thinking about how to break the record and perhaps even the one-ton barrier. Last year a new record was set of 1,810 1/2 pounds (821.23 kg). This is less than 190 pounds off the one-ton mark; just a little over a 10% weight gain is needed. Or think metric–reaching 900 kg is even closer. There may be as many theories on how to reach this milestone in plant husbandry as there are dedicated extreme growers.
Representatives from SNEGPG (Southern New England Giant Pumkin Growers association) pose with grower Steve Connolly and pumpkin Carver Scott Cully.
For the rest of us, we can take our minds off such weighty matters and plant zucchini. They taste much better, that is if you don’t let them get too big! I know this culinary tidbit about giant pumpkins all too painfully. Every year someone asks, “How many pumpkin pies could that giant pumpkin make?” While Scott Cully was carving Chris Steven’s 1,810 1/2 pound pumpkin, pieces were flying off, each containing enough flesh to feed an entire household. This seemed like a terrible waste, so I asked if I could have one of the pieces. I knew that these cucurbits were considered low quality for human consumption, but I had to test this for myself. First I used a hand held refractometer to get an indication of the sugar content. I got a reading of 5°Bx, which is considered poor (15°Bx and above is considered excellent). That didn’t deter me though, nor did the fact that it had pale-colored flesh, indicating a low Beta-Carotene content.
I have found that adding pumpkin or winter squash to store bought macaroni and cheese always improves the flavor of this ultimate comfort food. First, I roasted cubed pieces of the giant pumpkin to help concentrate the flavor and then added it to the mac ‘n cheese mix. The result: only fit for livestock feed! There were horrible stringy fibers, not the tender fibers found in spaghetti squash. And it had that distasteful off pumpkin flavor described by Amy Goldman in her glorious book, The Compleat Squash: A Passionate Grower’s Guide to Pumpkins, Squashes, and Gourds. Therefore, the answer to the question, “How many pumpkin pies does a giant pumpkin make?” is simple. Zero!
Rachel Meyer (left) and Natalia Pabon-Mora (right)
In the Genomics Program, curators, post-docs, graduate students, and technicians, along with undergraduate and high school interns are studying how genes make plants different from each other–for instance why the seeds of some species are enclosed in an edible fleshy fruit like a tomato, whereas the seeds of other species are surrounded by a pod (also called a capsule) that dries and splits open to release the seeds. Graduate students Natalia Pabon-Mora (Judith and Andrew Economos Fellow) and Rachel Meyer and I are studying what makes a tomato fleshy and edible rather than dry and woody by comparing the genes that are active during the formation of tomatoes and closely related capsules.We have identified several interesting-looking genes that act differently during the formation of tomatoes and capsules, and are testing them to see how they contribute to tomato formation.
Rachel and Natalia have tested one of the genes so far, and have found that if it doesn’t function properly, the plant produces tomatoes that are large and lumpy, instead of small (we are working with a cherry variety) and smooth.
Even more interesting, the tomatoes have a very strange uneven blotchy coloration.
We noticed immediately that although these tomatoes are still relatively small, they resemble the large and lumpy shapes we often see in cultivated tomato varieties including oddly colored heirloom varieties. We think we may have found a gene that is responsible for some of the dramatic shapes and sizes of the tomatoes we buy at the grocery store and farmer’s market!
Each day had its findings. Each day came with at least one amazing plant that brought all work to a stop. That plant could be one we thought was special because of its rarity (restricted geographic distribution), or one that locals use in some interesting way; sometimes a plant could be deemed special just because it is simply too beautiful. We have selected some of our favorite plants to share them with you.
So what exactly does a botanist do in the field? In the field we look for plants that are in reproductive state, those bearing flowers or/and fruits. Reproductive structures are necessary to differentiate between closely looking species. For each species, we collect flowers, fruits, and leaves; these samples are processed and later dried for future study. The dried and mounted plant samples are called herbarium specimens and they are known to last for hundreds of years.
Las Orquídeas National Park is tucked into the westernmost mountain chain of Colombia, a part of the great Andean Cordillera. In the park the terrain is steep and rough and is crossed by many rivers and streams that originate in the upper part of the mountains. The constant presence of water makes these humid forests a source of abudant epiphytic plants. Epiphytes, like many bromeliads and orchids, are plants that grow on other plants without killing them. Epiphytes root in the humid mixture of mosses and decaying matter that cover the branches of the trees; they are a forest on top of the forest.
The Andes mountain chain, which crosses South America from north to south, is the longest in the world. The Andean forests of the northern range (Tropical Andes hotspot) are home to a level of plant diversity that is without match anywhere else in the world; they are also subject to high rates of deforestation, thus these forests are considered a top priority for conservation. Unfortunately, Andean forests remain insufficiently studied and protected. This lack of baseline information is often times the first impediment to effective conservation: It is impossible to efficiently protect what we do not know or understand.
Clean and fresh travelers. First day, at La Encarnación. Top row: Alirio Montoya, Hector Velásquez, Javier Serna, Arley Duque, María Fernanda González, Camila González, Giovanny Giraldo, Fredy Gómez. Lower row: Felix Escobar, Julio Betancur, Paola Pedraza-Peñalosa.
After 14 days collecting plants in the field, we returned to Bogotá, Colombia’s capital with nearly 700 plant collections, and more than 10,000 photographs. Behind us we left Las Orquídeas National Park‘s 32 thousand hectares of rare and endangered tropical and montane forests, which make it part of one of the most biologically rich ecosystems of the world: the Andean and Chocó forests. We left behind more than 2,000 species of vascular plants, some of them still unknown to the science and probably not found anywhere else.
Scott A. Mori, Ph.D., Nathaniel Lord Britton Curator of Botany, has been studying New World rain forests for The New York Botanical Garden for over 35 years. He has witnessed an unrelenting reduction in their extent and, as a result, is concerned about their survival.
Dr. John Pipoly
Botanists at The New York Botanical Garden discover, classify, and study the evolutionary relationships of plants and fungi, their ecological interactions, and how they are used by mankind. Their tool kit for identifying and studying plants includes examining a plant’s external appearance, internal appearance, and it’s genetic makeup (done through the aid of DNA sequencing). The knowledge our students gain in their studies gives them the ability to recognize plants and fungi even when only fragments of them are available. As a result, Garden scientists are periodically called upon by authorities to identify poisonous mushrooms, herbal medicines (whether whole, or ground into powders), hallucinogenic and other plant derived drugs, and even plants associated with crimes. The latter is called forensic botany.
Last November, a Ft. Lauderdale resident spotted a container floating in a canal outside of his house. When he went to see what was inside, he was astonished to find a pair of arms and legs inside. The torso was subsequently discovered by fishermen in a nearby canal, and a severed head was discovered by employees of a hardware store in another locality. This dismembered corpse was identified by its fingerprints as Warren Danzig, whose residence was listed as the home of Jamie Saffran. When officers visited his home, they were told that Danzig was in the Dominican Republic and only used Saffrran’s home as a place to get mail.
Because plant parts, especially leaves, were mixed in with the body parts the police contacted Dr. John Pipoly, a graduate of The New York Botanical Garden/City University of New York joint Ph.D. program in 1986. Pipoly, who is an urban horticulture extension agent for Broward County, was called to help identify the plant remnants mixed in with the body parts. Pipoly is a trained plant taxonomist (a scientist who, among other things, classifies and identifies plants) so the task of figuring out the name of a plant from just its parts did not seem the impossible task that it would seem to most people. Immediately, he recognized that the leaves represented two different cultivated plants, which he suspected were the umbrella tree, Schefflera actinophylla and the Chinese privet, Ligustrum sinense. He then used the plant collections in the herbarium of the Fairchild Tropical Botanical Garden in Coral Gables to confirm his identifications. Although the umbrella tree was common in the area, Pipoly had never seen the Chinese Privet in Broward County.
Finding parts of the umbrella tree and the rare Chinese privet intermixed with the body parts as well as on the property of Jamie Saffran confirmed the suspicion of the authorities that Saffran was likely the murderer. Other evidence was the discovery of the same kind of rope found with the body and on his property as well as the use of Danzig’s credit card by Saffran to pay for part of his daughter’s education. Saffran was recently denied bond in the case.
Pipoly’s position involves many tasks, such as heading the Florida Master Gardener Program, monitoring climate change, identifying what pests attack plants, and determining what native plants are best for growing as ornamentals, but it’s unlikely he ever imagined that one day he would help solve a murder!
February 8, 2011; Punta Arenas, Chile; final entry
On the morning of February 6, we arrived in Seno Término, an appropriate name for our last day in the field. The weather mirrored our reluctance to finish such an amazing expedition. The skies were heavily overcast and a constant light rain fell. It seemed reasonable that our last day in the field would be a wet one, like so many before it. Seno Término runs, more or less, east-west, meaning that where we anchored was quite choppy. Across the sound, where there was a less substantial barrier to the wind, sheets of rain flew by one after another.
Despite (or maybe because of) the weather, no one wanted to stay out of the field today. I chose a small band of forest at the base of a granite mountain; at least in the forest the wind is much less. Time zoomed by as I worked back and forth through the forest, reaching and ascending the lower parts of the mountain whenever I could. Even at this late date, with so many sites under our belts, interesting mosses continue to be found. I realized that here, on this last day, I had finally gotten in shape so that climbing a hill didn’t make me out of breath. Talk about a day late and a dollar short!
At lunchtime we moved to our final collecting site, Seno Ocasión, opposite Isla Aguirre, where we had visited earlier. The cold rain persisted, but what was really dampening our spirits was the realization that our expedition was all but over. The ship was tied to a rock wall and we were able to just jump ashore and begin our collecting. The destination-oriented collectors ran ahead in an attempt to reach a nearby rocky peak. Apparently in these exposed areas the wind was fierce and prevented much progress. On the other hand, Kimmy and I hadn’t made it far from the ship when I spotted a steep ravine that ran right down the sea (which the others had run past). It was wet and slippery, but it’s always harder going down than climbing up, so we decided to chance it. At times I had to remove my collecting pack and leave it behind in order to fit onto narrow ledges that I wanted to access. In the end my efforts were rewarded with a moss no one on our ship recognized. Having to crawl backwards to get off the ledge was a small price to pay.
February 5, 2011; unnamed sound northwest of Isla Georgiana, 54°35’S, 71°49’W
As we awoke in Seno Aragay, at the isthmus of the Brecknock Peninsula, a steady, cold rain fell. At least it wasn’t windy.
After a hot breakfast of freshly fried bread, we suited up in our rain gear and headed into the field. Due to the weather we decided three hours in the morning would be about all we could tolerate. Jim and Matt headed in one direction while Blanka and I headed in another. As I came to the summit of a rise I saw Juan and Kimmy being dropped off near the base of a waterfall. As I wandered over the terrain, I desolately picked up the standard mosses just to document their distribution. I got wetter and wetter and colder. On this next to the last day in the field, as we get nearer and nearer to heading home, it was proving hard to get up much enthusiasm as my hand-lens became useless as it was constantly fogged up. When I realized I still had almost two hours left before being picked up, I headed to the base of a dripping cliff.
Upon arriving there, in no time at all I completely forgot about being cold and wet. Instead I was focused on the mosses that grew in sheltered areas under rock overhangs. Here they get less rain (even though, in addition to the rain I was continuously being dripped on from the water running off the cliff) and so i found a completely different suite of species. A couple of these were ones I had not seen before on this trip and I became completely oblivious to my physical discomforts.
I finally saw Blanka on a slope below me and I called to her to come up to where I was. Like me before her, she looked pretty miserable, at least until she got to the cliff base. Instantly her excitement grew as she found liverworts she hadn’t been seeing elsewhere. Quite quickly, Blanka’s promise of only staying there for 10 minutes grew to over 30 minutes. Ultimately, we had to leave to get down to the shore, far below, for our scheduled rendezvous with the zodiac. We were the last to get back to the ship and so the engine room, where we hang wet clothing to dry, was already packed. However, having this space to dry clothing is a godsend; in only a few hours the wettest piece of clothing is dry and warm.
February 4, 2011; unnamed sound directly east of Seno Mama, 54°35’S, 71°34’W
Yesterday was a busy day and I didn’t finish working on my specimens until 10:30 p.m., at which time I just wanted to hit my bunk, not my notebook! The day before yesterday we worked in a beautiful wet forest and we all collected lots of specimens, almost all of which were saturated with water. Not surprisingly, we’re baling in more collections than our drying system can handle, especially with five bryologists in the field. Most collections take about two days to dry on the lowest rack and longer on the upper shelves. At this point we all have wet specimens awaiting dryer space. And it certainly didn’t help that I made almost 100 collections yesterday.
After awhile I am sure that all these places are starting to sound the same to you, especially since you are not here. Quite honestly, at this point, many of our sites are even beginning to merge in my mind. I can distinctly remember the moment when I collected a moss and what the microhabitat looked like, but on which island or in which sound I found it is another story entirely. I assume that this will only get worse in the upcoming days because we are now hitting various sounds that go into the southern shore of Isla Grande (i.e., the large island) of Tierra del Fuego.
Yesterday afternoon we stopped at our final two small islands. We anchored in the canal separating Isla Brecknock from Isla Macías. The last time we divided our group between two islandsJim felt he got the less interesting island and so this time I let him pick first. He and Matt chose Isla Brecknock because it is the larger of the two islands and had a nice waterfall descending near where we were. Blanka, Kimmy, and I took Isla Macías.
