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Let's discuss one of the more surprising building materials in my study of architects; bubbles.  Bubbles—fragile, ephemeral, soft—provide crucial functionality in the lives of many species, serving as shelter, transportation, hunting tools, and even protection. From nesting betta fish to bubble-net-weaving humpback whales, the ingenuity and diversity of nature’s architects demonstrate just how versatile bubbles as a building material can be. Consider the betta fish and the tungara frog. These animals build bubble nests to first attract a discerning mate while providing a safe haven for their young, reinforcing the delicate bubbles with mucus for added stability. Violet snails go one step further, secreting bubble rafts from mucus that allow them to float with the currents along the ocean’s surface. Humpback whales use bubble nets as a hunting strategy, corralling fish into tight clusters for easy capture. The diving bell spider, which uses silk to reinforce an underwater bubble, creates a portable air pocket (i.e., the diving bell) that allows the spider to breathe and hunt below the surface. Bubbles can even provide defense: garden snails generate a foam barrier to deter predators.  These bubble structures are uniquely held together depending on the species and their purpose. Humpback whale bubble nets, for instance, rely on surface tension to maintain their form. However, as the bubbles rise and pressure decreases, the bubble increases in volume, the surface tension can't compensate for the larger size, causing the bubbles to fragment into smaller ones, creating a cascading sheet-like wall of tiny bubbles. Other animals, like betta fish, true bugs, and grey tree frogs, fortify their bubbles with mucus, adding strength and durability. Bubbles are viscoelastic—they behave both like a solid and a liquid. This duality offers significant advantages. As solids, bubbles provide structure, creating barriers that protect the builder or their offspring from external threats. Their elastic nature allows them to deform under stress and then recover their shape, maintaining their protective function. Meanwhile, their fluid-like properties make them adaptable and able to conform to various shapes and environments, whether floating on the surface of a pond or clinging to a tree branch. But for all their versatility, bubbles are fleeting. They’re fragile, often lasting just long enough to fulfill their purpose before disappearing. Still, their ephemeral nature doesn’t diminish their importance—it highlights the resourcefulness of the creatures that wield them. Additionally, there is something to be said for engineering something that is designed to disappear - a design challenge we haven't sufficiently solved for ourselves. Whether practical or whimsical, I enjoy the thought process of thinking through how we can mimic other non-human builders/architects. It makes me wish I were a better artist. I enjoy the vision of a machine producing bubbles to create spherical, artistic structures, reinforced with some medium (perhaps mud, concrete, maybe even ice). Perhaps bubbles floating to a geodesic frame, attaching via surface tension to create cover, or a soldier using a bubble gun to create a protective, quickly built wall to protect themselves, or may art (for the sake of art).
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Ecosystem Engineers In a sentence: Ecosystem engineers, through their interactions with the environment, significantly influence the rest of the species and geomorphic processes within their environments. Longer form thoughts: Let's consider ecosystem engineers and what they can teach us as humans about becoming better engineers. Ecosystem engineers, receive (and deserve) a tremendous amount of focus due to their ability to change entire ecosystems; not just to suit their needs but to also provide for the lifecycle needs of many other species. The science behind this is fascinating and far reaching. Much of the science we've learned the hard way - remove something and watch if it breaks. As a species, we humans have broken a lot of things. Remove bison from the grasslands, remove beaver from our waters, the disappearance of the temperature sensitive coral. Conservationists and engineers, very rightly, are looking to partner with and mimic ecosystem engineers to reclaim, rewild, and reoccupy habitats. Perhaps the largest hurtle that any non-human engineer will encounter, however, is humans. For the most part, I don't think we mean anything by it (humans that is), but we really should put some effort into being a bit more aware. The flagship species of this concept (and an expertise of mine) is the beaver. With its unique building behaviors, the beaver drives topographic, hydrodynamic, and structural changes. These changes create habitats for other species and attract their predators, shaping a complex web of life. It's not just beavers that are ecosystem engineers. Nature's engineering prowess is diverse, with autogenic engineers like coral creating habitats through their own lifecycle processes, and allogenic engineers like the American crocodile creating habitats by directly moving material and modifying their environment. If the underwater world has any sense of mythology, I would like to believe that whales are seen a bit like deities. When a whale dies, it's body creates a new ecosystem at the where it's body falls, called a Whale Fell. Planktonic tunicates basically drop in food deliveries to the ocean below them. The blue-tailed giant larvacean (Bathochordaeus mcnutti) creates a "mucus house" which acts as a net. This net captures prey and is filtered into the larvacean's mouth through geometric tubes. Once this net becomes clogged with too large prey to make it through the smaller openings, the larvacean disposes of the net to begin creating another. This net then floats to the bottom of the ocean, where many other benthic species will then consume the nutrient-rich net. Aquatic ecosystem engineers are of two broad types; those that create and support aquatic habitats and those that create and support terrestrial habitats. The North American bison, through wallowing behavior, creates circular depressions in the earth that capture rainwater. In addition to supporting unique vegetation systems, these small shallow ponds become aquatic habitats for amphibians and insects in the otherwise dry grasslands. Conversely, the muskrat builds lodges and fishing platforms in the middle of ponds, creating a terrestrial reprieve that many species of insects and avians use to live within or roost upon. This is where human engineers can genuinely expand their horizons. The field of biomimicry, which draws inspiration from nature's engineering marvels, offers many lessons waiting to be learned. When we consider re-engineering our wetlands, mainly where these species are no longer occupying, we should look to beaver. In areas prone to flooding, we could add canals in how beavers build canals. In areas prone to drought, we should add semi-permeable dams. When we consider promoting biodiversity in our grasslands, we should look to bison - creating little ponds for our amphibian populations and helping recharge our groundwater. Suppose we want to support bird and insect migration. In that case, we should look to the structures provided by muskrats and beavers to allow their species a place to briefly land and rest. When we consider how to get rid of our waste, perhaps we should be taking inspiration from the blue-tailed giant larvacean who embeds their food in mucus for other species to consume. This topic starts to dance with ethics, but why can't our food waste go to teaching bears how to forage under logs instead of through our trashcans. How wonderful would it be if our food waste could be utilized in sustainable farming or helping species reclaim their habitats? We have levels of this throughout society through composting but it would be wonderful to see an institutional scale effort into ensuring our waste is redistributed in our ecological systems in a sustainable way. References:
"The giant larvacean Bathochordaeus" YouTube, uploaded by MBARI (Monterey Bay Aquarium Research Institute) https://youtu.be/L1wFb_ShW7k?feature=shared. Accessed 28 Sept. 2023 Building without limbsIn a sentence: To build, many architects will leverage their bodies in unique ways using their tails or mouths, while others will secrete materials to create an architecture. In an image:  Diagram generated with Napkin.AI Why do we care? A few potential reasons.
Longer form thoughts: A few of my aquatic architects have a real problem. They need to build something but don't have legs or arms. This may be less of a problem than my human brain originally thought. Many builders do not benefit from limbs, but it twists my mind a bit. Some use their mouth. Big-mouth fish excavators, such as the Frie's goby (Lesueurigobius friesii), the giant jawfish (Opistognathus rhomaleus), the rockmover wrasse (Novaculichthys taeniourus), the red band-fish (Cepola macrophthalma), the well-digger jawfish (Gnathypops rosenbergi), and the yellowhead jawfish (Opistognathus aurifrons) can move sediments by leveraging their mouths as shovels. I am not aware of any studies that have assessed the morphological differences between fish that have evolved to dig with their mouths compared to those builders who don't. Still, I suspect that developing an oversized jaw comes at a cost. Perhaps speed, perhaps even beauty (I don't know if fish select for mates based upon visual cues but based upon the striking visual displays many fish have, it isn't a stretch to imagine), or perhaps specialized jaws that limit the diversity of food the builders can consume limiting where they can find calories. Some use their mouths to tear instead of excavate. The bowfin (Amia calva) will use its mouth to pull and clear away vegetation for its depression nests. Some use their powerful tails: When a fish won't use their mouth, they can use the rest of their body. Many depression nests, broad concave bowls excavated into the sediment, are constructed by several species of fish, including the Coho salmon (Oncorhynchus kisutch), the Chinook salmon (Oncorhynchus tshawytscha), black crappie ( Pomoxis nigromaculatus), Pumpkinseed sunfish (Lepomis gibbosus), and the Bluegill sunfish (Lepomis macrochirus), by using their tail fin to excavate. The bottlenose dolphin (Tursiops truncatus) creates "mud nets" slapping their tail along a sandy bottom to create a wall of mud to encircle their prey. One of my favorite burrowers, the small-mouthed and small-finned garden eels (Heteroconger hassi)stick the end of their mucus-secreting tail into the sand and oscillate their body to create long sinusoidal mucus-reinforced burrows. A few of my builders bypass using any material for the environment at all and secrete their own. Single-celled amoebas ( Difflugia) (not an animal) secrete an adhesive made of their own cytoplasm. This "glue" allows particulates to stick to the amoeba, resulting in a protective case around the builder. Colonies of some bacteria species (e.g., B. stublis) secrete an extracellular matrix to self assemble into a film. These biofilms can be found at fluid interfaces (on the surface of a stagnant pond or on/across the wall of a pipe). They are mechanically strong (highly resistant to fluid shear) The violet snail (Janthina janthina) secretes mucus to create a raft to float upon, drifting on the ocean's surface. The Asiatic bivale clam (Corbicula fluminea) secretes a mucus parachute to hitch a ride on the current. In my mind, I imagine it a bit like if a human coughed up flehm and used that flehm and the power of the wind to move to their next location. Salps (Pegea confoederata) secrete mucus in a net and consume that nets in a constant cycle. (This one turns my stomach a bit. It is a bit like if a human constantly and slowly secreted mucus from their nose directly into their mouth to consume whatever material was caught on their boogers 🤮🤮). Planktonic tunicates (Bathochordaeus mcnutti) make the most stunning and intricate mucus houses. It has two layers. One large outer layer is embedded with food, and there is a geometrically intricate center that they pump their food through, piping food directly into their mouth. (I would love to understand how these architects can make such intricate/complex structures with just mucus and flow. That is a self-assembly problem that seems fascinating. But maybe that it is not self assembly at all. This species is hard to study.) Note: A review of non-human mucus would be a great addition to the literature. The pufferfish is another geometric genius without arms or legs (Torquigener albomaculosus). I don't think you can talk about animal architecture in any capacity without mentioning the geometric nests the males build to attract potential mates. These builders drag their bellies along the sand ocean floor to excavate into the sand to create beautiful and ephemeral patterns. Pufferfish must have some sense of aesthetics, and it is hard to know what a female fish is judging for. Still, based on the quality of the nest, she will decide whether or not to mate with the architect who created it. If you don't mind using your mouth or feet, you can still build. If you can do neither, there is always mucus. References: Jean Claude Quéro. Check-list of the fishes of the eastern tropical Atlantic= Catalogue des poissons de l’Atlantique oriental tropical: Clofeta. Sirsi) i9789230026202. Unesco, 1990. Gerald R Allen and DR Robertson. “Quatre especes nouvelles d’Opisthognathidae (Jawfishes) du Pacifique oriental tropical”. In: Revue fr. Aquariol 18.2 (1991), pp. 47–52. S Takayanagi et al. “Sleeping mound construction using coral fragments by the rockmover wrasse”. In: Journal of fish biology 63.5 (2003), pp. 1352–1356. MJohn Thompson. BURROWING AND BURROW-ASSOCIATED BEHAVIOR IN THE DUSKY JAWFISH, OPISTOGNATHUS WHITEHURSTI. Florida Atlantic University, 1974. Patrick L Colin. “Burrowing behavior of the yellowhead jawfish, Opistognathus aurifrons”. In: Copeia (1973), pp. 84–90. Celia KC Churchill et al. “Females floated first in bubble rafting snails”. In: Current Biology 21.19 (2011), R802– R803. OL Green. “Observations on the Culture of the Bowfin”. In: The Progressive Fish-Culturist 28.3 (1966), pp. 179–179. T.C. Hiebert, B.A. Butler, and A.L. Shanks. “Oregon Estuarine Invertebrates: Rudys’ Illustrated Guide to Common Species”. In: Environmental biology of fishes 3 (2016). Eric P van den Berghe and Mart R Gross. “Female size and nest depth in coho salmon (Oncorhynchus kisutch)”. In: Canadian Journal of Fisheries and Aquatic Sciences 41.1 (1984), pp. 204–206. Yuri Mazei and AlanWarren. “A survey of the testate amoeba genus Difflugia Leclerc, 1815 based on specimens in the E. Penard and CG Ogden collections of the Natural History Museum, London. Part 1: Species with shells that are pointed aborally and/or have aboral protuberances”. In: Protistology 7.3 (2012), pp. 121–171. Luanne Hall-Stoodley, J William Costerton, and Paul Stoodley. “Bacterial biofilms: from the natural environment to infectious diseases”. In: Nature reviews microbiology 2.2 (2004), pp. 95–108. Jens Kjerulf Petersen. “Ascidian suspension feeding”. In: Journal of Experimental Marine Biology and Ecology 342.1 (2007), pp. 127–137. Keiichi Matsuura. “A new pufferfish of the genus Torquigener that builds “mystery circles” on sandy bottoms in the Ryukyu Islands, Japan (Actinopterygii: Tetraodontiformes: Tetraodontidae)”. In: Ichthyological research 62.2 (2015), pp. 207–212. Images:
Editing: Grammarly Moving like a buffaloIn a sentence: The North American bison (Bison bison) shapes their habitats through grazing and impact movements (wallowing, herding), resulting in landscape topographic structural changes, vegetation redistribution, and restructuring that impacts other species of vertebrates and invertebrates on the landscape. In an image:  Longer form thoughts: The North American bison is one of the more surprising species on my list of Aquatic Architects. These terrestrial megafauna create open water ponds on the prairie from wallowing behavior. Therefore, they have made it onto my list of animals that engineer or create aquatic structures. However, their behavior, their impacts on the landscape, the effects on other species, and their absolutely fascinating history require, I think, a broader explanation than simply speaking to aquatic architecture. As far as I know, bison don't go about their day considering how and what they will engineer. They engineer just through moving. They have two key behaviors that result in ecosystem engineering: 1) Discriminatory grazing (Towne & Hartnett, 1995; Knapp et al., 1999).and 2) wallowing (McMillan et al., 2000; Truett et al., 2001).. Discriminatory grazing - being a picky eater. Wallowing - bathing in dirt. Bison prefer green grass. As they navigate grasslands, they select the greenest stems, clipping the grass with their teeth. Grasses have different greening times and a tiny window of greening in the Great Plains. In chasing after the green, bison move rather quickly. Not spending too much time in any particular location for grazing, bison move vast distances, minimizing grazing impacts locally. This preference for green and the speed at which they move create a heterogeneous distribution of grasses. Short grass, tall grass, shrubs, and a diversity of species develop a diversity of microhabitats that specialists, such as many grassland bird species, can take advantage of. Many of these birds use bison hair to construct their nests (Coppedge, 2009; Wisentproject Kraansvlak, 2019). The warm, elastic bison fur is probably excellent for eggs for insulation and mechanical protection. I think a fun research study would be to access the thermo-mechanical properties of a bird's nest made out of bison hair to see how that might impact chick survival rates. Where are my ornithologists who took too many physics courses? The increase in small vertebrates also invites small predators - such as foxes and coyotes. Larger predators (grizzly bears, wolves, humans) also move in, attracted by large ungulates (deer, elk, pronghorn antelope, moose) who have benefited from the newly restructured grasslands. As bison move through the landscape, their shaggy coats pick up seeds. This allows them to gather and plant vegetation across the landscape. Many of these natural grasses have deep root systems. These deep root systems act as carbon sinks and stabilize the soil. I'm not a climatologist, but I am aware enough of the conversation surrounding our climate to confidently claim that the restoration of grasslands and reintroducing one of its key engineers could be a practical and critical step in cooling and stabilizing our climate. Our climate catastrophe is a many-pronged problem, and so must our solutions be. Behavioral side note: The biomechanics of how bison eat make them distinct from cattle (Bos taurus) that currently dominate our North American grasslands. Cattle grip and tear up grass root systems, killing the grass. While, as far as I can tell, this is primarily anecdotal, it is a pervasive claim amongst bison managers/ranches, meriting some note and probably more study. Studies on the Eurasian bison (a cousin of the N. American bison) have shown that because of their wide muzzles and muscular tongues, Eurasian bison can clip grasses closer to the ground, preventing disturbance to the root systems. Behaviorally, cattle are less discriminatory (making them easier to raise, but harder on the land) because they graze more uniformly, which decreases biodiversity. Bison also engage in wallowing behavior - particularly males in rut. Bison roll on the ground, bathing themselves in dirt. Through rolling, they often remove all vegetation from that location. These depressions then capture rainwater, fill, and usually become small ponds. These open-water ponds benefit other vertebrates on the landscape, allowing them to drink water. These small ponds (~ 1 m. to 2 m. wide, and ~ 20 cm deep, become microhabitats. These small ponds are home to frogs, snakes, birds, and insects. Because of the higher water content, the vegetation directly around and within the pond differs from the surrounding grassland. These small ponds also support groundwater recharge. While there are practical reasons why bison populations will not fully return to all of their natural ranges in our lifetime, perhaps one way we can compensate for this is by creating buffalo wallows throughout our prairies. Bison biomimicry can extend to more than just excavating ponds in the middle of grasslands; there has also been work done on moving cattle between pastures to mimic the natural movement dynamics of bison to achieve the same heterogeneous grazing patterns bison produce. Not only does the soundscape of a bison-engineered habitat have grassland birds, but it also has the croaks of frogs. Just listen to this video of a Bison wallow. Absolutely lovely. Eat more bison: One of the best ways, I would argue, to promote bison back onto their natural landscapes to engage in the engineering of grasslands and resulting trophic cascades, is to consume more bison. References:
If you want to fall into a black hole of the internet, may I recommend whale "Bubble nets." Single sentence summary: To aid in hunting, some whale species implement the use of bubble nets by diving below a school of fish or krill and blowing bubbles to encircle and trap the fish before diving upwards to consume them.  Image generated by DALL-E, OpenAI, using a prompt provided by the user via ChatGPT. September 2024. Longer form thoughts I happened upon these structures during my search for aquatic architects. One committee member pointed out they are more a tool than an architecture. (And in fairness, the scientific literature on the topic definitely backs him up. )To which I countered, "I'm not sure the fish in the middle of it would agree with you." But to his point, this is a structure that is all about scale: what serves as a tool for the whale is an unpassable architecture to the fish, and it all comes down to size. I certainly enjoy the idea that a bubble net can both be a "tool" and a piece of "architecture". I'm happy to let you argue this one out in the comments, though. To be honest, sounds like a terrible and terrifying way to die. Can you imagine? Swimming, minding your own business, and suddenly bubbles are rushing past you, pushing you against your will, to a spot that your instincts shout as dangerous. It probably loud , turbulent, and confusing. By the time you've figured out what is happening (if you figured it out all), you're being swallowed by a giant mouth, almost too wide for you to even recognize it as a mouth. Bubble nets are an excellent case study for physics. Apparently, bubble nets are "loud" . Sound, at its essence (like most things I find interesting in physics), is a pressure differential moving through a medium as a wave. An air pocket in the water creates a pressure differential, ensuring a rush of water and a confusing roar of sound that you would wisely try to swim away from to the quiet center of the net... Suppose you manage to move outside of the quiet point. In that case, you'll be hit another wall of sound and bubbles, effectively herding you and the school of fish you are traveling with together. The acoustics of the ocean is a rich research topic that is becoming more known as classified data of the soundscape of our oceans recorded during the Cold War is becoming declassified. Additionally, our recording technology is improving. Fish and whales sing, lobsters and crabs percuss, and us humans make far too much noise. Bubble nets can only be generated at shallow enough depths (approximately 18 m.) (which is still terrifyingly deep). At a certain depth, the pressure is too high to blow air. Whales have found a workaround for this. In Alaska, a group of unrelated male humpback whales meet annually and work together to hunt . One whale will dive deep, herding herring upwards to a depth shallow enough to build a bubble net. At these depths, two whales are waiting. Once fish are within range, they begin to build. Surrounding their prey with bubbles. Only the whales herding the prey are able to eat. The whales work together and coordinate, take turns, and engineer. Bubble nets (and whales in general) also break the human collective brain when it comes to thinking about intelligence, culture, communication, and coordination. Whales appear to have different styles of making bubble nets worldwide - implying a cultural preference or at least a learned one. Young whales have been recorded as trying and failing to produce an adequate net. Double barrels are favored in the Atlantic Ocean off of North America, coordinated spirals are favored by the large males in the Northern Pacific, spirals have been observed by solitary whales off the coasts of Scotland, some whales will reinforce their nets with their fins, herding more fish to their doom. While humpback whales (Megaptera novaeangliae) get most of the credit for the bubble net hunting technique, this bubble-blowing technique to confuse and capture prey has been observed in other cetaceans as well, including the killer whale (Orcinus orca) and the Bryder's whale (Balanoptera edeni). Dolphins (Tursiops truncatus) are also net builders, preferring the use of mud (perhaps a blog post for another time). Bubble nets are also an interesting way to think about geometry, spatially and temporally. In Scottland, a solitary whale was observed to make a beautiful Fibonacci spiral-shaped net. It is practical to start wide and circle closer to the fish in narrowing loops until they are grouped perfectly to fit inside of your mouth. It may imply a certain appreciation of geometry and art on the whale's part. Whether or not the visuals of the bubble net inspire whales or not, it certainly inspires us, humans. References:
[1] Szabo, A., et al. "Solitary humpback whales manufacture bubble-nets as tools to increase prey intake." Royal Society Open Science 11.8 (2024): 240328. Qing, Xin, et al. "Three-dimensional finite element simulation of acoustic propagation in spiral bubble net of humpback whale." The Journal of the Acoustical Society of America 146.3 (2019): 1982-1995. Kosma, Madison M., et al. "Pectoral herding: an innovative tactic for humpback whale foraging." Royal Society open science 6.10 (2019): 191104. Marwood, Eleanor M., et al. "Account of a Solitary Humpback Whale (Megaptera novaeangliae) Bubble-Net Feeding in the Moray Firth, Northeast Scotland." Aquatic Mammals 48.6 (2022). Moreno, Kelsey R., and Riley P. Macgregor. "Bubble trails, bursts, rings, and more: A review of multiple bubble types produced by cetaceans." Animal Behavior and Cognition 6.2 (2019): 105-126. Ramos, Eric A., et al. "Lords of the Rings: Mud ring feeding by bottlenose dolphins in a Caribbean estuary revealed from sea, air, and space." Marine Mammal Science 38.1 (2022). Kato, Hidehiro, and William F. Perrin. "Bryde’s whale: Balaenoptera edeni." Encyclopedia of marine mammals. Academic Press, 2018. 143-145. Baird, Robin W. "The killer whale." Cetacean societies: field studies of dolphins and whales 127 (2000): 153. I've recently become aware of "Hippo Highways". In a sentence: Hippo highways are pathways of cleared vegetation and compacted dirt created by hippos as they move over land from the wetlands they occupy in their search for food, eventually creating a new flow pathway for water, creating new wetlands and changing the vegetation dynamics. In a longer form: The hippopotamus (Hippopotamus amphibius), the very large and dense (they sink) semiaquatic mammal engineers ecosystems just by searching for food. Males are around 3500 lbs to 9000 lbs! The females are a more reasonable 3000lbs. Hippos spend their days in water to avoid the heat of the day. At night, the move onto land and forage for food. And they EAT. But as far as the grazers go they only eat around 1% - 1.5% of their body weight daily. How dainty. If we consider that the average male hippo weighs 5000 lbs and the average female weighs 3000 lbs and live in groups of a 10 - 30 individuals, that would be, on average a thunder of hippopotamus, could be expected to clear around 450 lbs. to 2025 lbs. a night. Which is around 60,750 lbs a month. Start to scale this up to a year or a decade, its easy to imagine how the vegetative and topographic structure of a landscape would have to change and give way. These pathways, repeatedly utilized by other hippopotami (stigmery, anyone?), become cleared of vegetation and depress onto the ground. These trails deepen over time and can become so deep that they fill with water. Once filled, this hippo highways redirect water flow and by extension, redirect nutrients carried within that water. Wetlands are created as water is redirected to new locations while other wetlands dry, leaving behind drained ponds and lakes. This directly impacts other species living within those environments. (Imagine being a fish, relocating to an entirely different pond, navigating through an incised channel). Just by moving on the landscape, hippos create new ecosystems. They drive habitat heterogeneity, spatial and temporal dynamics of the habitats they forage within, and undoubtedly have a tremendous impact for the other aquatic and semiaquatic species that live along side of them. I first looked to Colombia, where hippos are an invasive species, to see if Google Maps could give any insights to the scale of their landscape engineering... but the resolution and frequency of scans wasn't clear to me. Fun fact: Pablo Escobar illegally imported many species to his private ranch/zoo In Colombia, including hippos, making them the largest invasive species on the planet. So I looked to Google Earth Imagery of the Okavango Delta. The scale of the landscapes hippos engineer breaks my mind a bit. Look at these things. Massive. (The width of these images is about a 1 km wide) Stunning how dynamic these foraging pathways are. I imagine that these pathways also make the hippos more resistant to drought conditions, localizing water in low point and help them navigate water when the water is high, allowing them to move along already established pathways.  I'm devastated that something friend-shaped has zero tolerance for human friendship. Citing my sources:
McCARTHY, T. S., ELLERY, W. N., & BLOEM, A. (1998). Some observations on the geomorphological impact of hippopotamus (Hippopotamus amphibius L.) in the Okavango Delta, Botswana. African Journal of Ecology, 36(1), 44–56. doi:10.1046/j.1365-2028.1998.89-89089.x Castelblanco-Martínez, Delma Nataly, et al. "A hippo in the room: Predicting the persistence and dispersion of an invasive mega-vertebrate in Colombia, South America." Biological Conservation 253 (2021): 108923. Google Earth Pro. (2004, 2011, 2013, 2016, 2018, 2020, 2023). Location: -19.65206112, 22.92836752. Available through: Google Earth. Accessed September 18, 2024. [https://earth.google.com/web/@-19.65206112,22.92836752,-49553.62807974a,51303.82162909d,35y,0.0002h,0t,0r/data=CgRCAggBSg0I____________ARAA] “One thing about which fish know exactly nothing is water, since they have no anti-environment which would enable them to perceive the element they live in.” ― Marshall McLuhan, War & Peace in the Global Village (1968) I find myself thinking, frequently, in my more amusing daydreams about magic and the many stories and universes created by great writers and great thinkers.
The consistent theme across these stories is that they overwhelmingly exist in a time and place in their universes where the magic of their world is somehow... less. They exist as inheritors of an era where magic was (once upon a time) everywhere. It was powerful, often an age of heroes, where mythology, legend, and history intertwine. That time of the past seems somehow unbelievable yet undeniably true. And now, it is weakened, if not outright gone. If magic existed everywhere, would a person even notice it.? Would magic exist in such universes and worlds, like air in our world or water for a fish? Could you even see or define something when its entire presence is an unknown benefit to you? Do we exist in a world so wonderful and magical that we don't possess the ability to see it? In such a universe, where magic is everywhere, you would not start to notice it until it began to slip away. It would not have words until it needed words to define it. In this world, biodiversity is the magic of our age. We did not really notice or really think about the birds in the trees, not really, until they stopped singing. We did not consider how a beaver dam provided habitat for fish, birds, bugs, amphibians, and other rodents until all the dams were removed. I think about the near apocalypse of the North American bison. Millions of animals... gone. And with them, bird species disappeared, entire cultures disappeared, grasslands plowed, and... here we are still. But the future is terrifying. A hero's journey in this world in an attempt to learn their magic and add value to the world through rewilding efforts by bringing back species and reclaiming habitats. Perhaps an act of heroism in our time is to plant milkweed for the monarch butterflies. Stop killing the insects. Slow down and hit the brakes for animals crossing our highways that run through the middle of their habitats. Writing a thesis is hard. Doing research is hard. Pursuing a Ph.D. is a bit insane. I'm still not fully healed from the experience. But I'm starting to rediscover the joy of why I wanted to be a scientist in the first place.
I've had enough time away from my doctoral studies now, to look back upon the work I did during that time with a different degree of appreciation. While in the midst of researching, writing, editing, plotting, writing, theorizing, editing, deleting, and constantly rephrasing - one comes to despise the work a bit and question, with the deepest sincerity, one’s life choices. When I finally hit submit on that thesis, the last thing I wanted to do was think… about any of it. A topic that keeps coming back into my head, slowly at first, and now almost every day is the chapter I wrote on non-human aquatic architecture. A research project well suited to the isolation of the COVID pandemic, I conducted a literature review of 120 species that build within aquatic environments. From bacteria to whales, I spent hours on Google Scholar, searching for species and the things they would build. I would find species, not one at a time, but in groups of five or so and then flounder, finding nothing until I found the next relevant keyword. Once I discovered the word “ichnology”, I hit a gold mine of burrowers. When I included “mucus" in my search term, some of the most creative structures started to populate my list. As my vocabulary expanded so too did my list of architects. Some of my best leads came from watching fisherman videos on YouTube or nature documentaries on Disney+ with my nieces. My social media feeds also produced wonderful leads. This revived interest is in part inspired by my social media feeds of scientists posting about their findings of new species in the deep ocean (helping me expand the list I started in graduate school), the books I’ve finally have gotten to read for the pleasure of reading - reigniting the joy science brought me as a young adult, and my nieces who are delighted when I share with them a bit a trivia about some aquatic species I studied during my thesis studies (reminding me that science can act as a form of great storytelling). Studying these many species changed my worldview. Made my world a little bit bigger, weirder, and all the more interesting. The solutions many of the species have made to cope with their environment reveals that humans are not the only species on this planet capable of innovation. I never managed to publish this chapter. But after nearly two years away from it, I can finally look at this work with clearer eyes, without the anxiety of a looming deadline and thesis defense. The writing could be better (much better) but I am pleased with the content; impressed by that younger version of me and what she was able to find in the literature. I was lonely writing my thesis. That is not a mistake I wish to make again. As I go through and edit this massive chapter, I intend to blog, vlog, post, and write to my socials about some of the species that I find particularly unique. I am now ready to edit this work and…. to submit it to some journal… somewhere. |
AuthorJordan is a technologist, an Indigenous futurist, a beaver futurist, an animal enthusiast, a curious scientist, a compulsive engineer, and science storyteller. 
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