Saturday, February 1, 2025

"Who cares about tiny non-insects...?"

 If you had any idea the number of photos I take on the Greenway every time I go out, compared to the number of photos I actually share, you would be forgiven for thinking I'm a truly terrible photographer who happens to catch a few lucky shots here and there. The sheer volume of photos (thank goodness for digital cameras) that are out of focus alone... but also those that capture a bird looking the wrong way or flying out of frame, or a breeze blowing a flower and its insect passenger aside just as I click the button, or the interesting-looking thing off in the distance that turns out to be a clod of dirt. Embarrassing. 

But sometimes, sometimes...those wasted shots turn out to be a little more interesting than they seem at first glance. 

Take this one:


Okay. Moss. It's fairly green for the middle of January, which is kind of nice. The rocks and twigs lend a little bit of texture and visual interest. But zooming in, it's not too crisp and just kind of meh. Delete.

But hang on—what was that? Just a glimpse as the deleted image disappeared off my screen. Fortunately I still had the backup file....zoom in....



Who are those?! Chunky little gray-blue bodies with plump abdomens, segmented like tiny Michelin men, out and about on a below-freezing Iowa afternoon. Scrolling back and forth yielded several more:



Springtails? I'd encountered similar chubby soft bodies previously on the Greenway, in a watery area near the Great Snail Crossing. iNaturalist suggested several types of springtail as an ID, including Moss Springtail (Neanura muscorum, which seems to be native to Europe, introduced in the U.S.) and Hypogastrura, a genus with dozens of species including several that "are active in winter and are called 'snow fleas'", according to BugGuide. Barely being able to see them, much less notice such diagnostics as furca length (?), anal spines (!), and number of "ocelli in each eyepatch", I shall have to leave the ID at "some kind of springtail, maybe Hypogastrura."

Who cares about tiny non-insects that you can barely see? — Anyone who wants nature to work! 

Missouri Dept. of Conservation 


Springtails are hexapod arthropods, but not insects; like insects, they have six legs and three main body parts (head, thorax, abdomen), but they lack wings and have internal mouthparts rather than the external mouthparts of insects. They are tiny, usually just a couple of millimeters long, and they tend to hang around moist areas where they will eat decaying plant matter, mold and fungus, and assorted other organic detritus (they are also often cited as an excellent "cleanup crew" for terrariums).

The common name "springtail" comes from their furcula, a forked "tail" normally held tucked beneath their abdomen that can be deployed to fling them several inches into the air when they are bothered (imagine one of those spring-loaded mousetraps that jump into the air when triggered— but it would have to jump more than 16 feet in the air to proportionally equal the "spring" of a springtail!).

So next time you are out and about and think there's not much to see...slow down and take a very close look at moist areas: under logs on the ground, mossy patches, water surfaces. You might find a little neighborhood of life you had no idea was there! 

Watch springtails jump:





Resources/Additional Reading

Saturday, December 7, 2024

"But we have curbside recycling!"

If you caught the post about the recent trash cleanup on the Greenway last week, you may have noticed that a huge amount of the litter picked up was beverage containers: pop bottles, beer cans, energy drink cans, sports drink bottles, and more than anything flimsy water bottles by the dozen. 

If you spend much time detrashing roadsides around your neighborhood, you can probably attest to the same. Modelo cans and Busch Light bottles spring up like mushrooms...and how the heck are there so many cups from the Wendy's almost a mile away?

This blog has been complaining (venting?) about litter along the Greenway and elsewhere for years. Litter is highly visible—to those who are around to see it. But for many people, a can or bottle here and there scarcely registers as they speed along in vehicles. There is an assumption that litter-prevention programs like our Bottle Bill are no longer necessary, because we have curbside recycling programs that take care of the problem. They claim it's an obsolete law, a relic from a simpler time that doesn't work for today's world. Is it?

A sampling of the beverage containers from the latest Greenway cleanup.

Hardly. It's more necessary now than ever. There are more cans, more bottles, more different drinks sold in those small containers than ever before. And they're still often consumed far from trash cans and recycle bins. And they still find their way onto roadsides and public spaces in huge numbers. The Iowa City Litter Crew collects data from cleanups on Open Litter Map, an open tracking system that lets users upload and tag photos of litter they encounter, and provides just a glimpse of the scale of the problem, in hard data.

Each of the green dots is a piece of
litter that has been picked up and tagged. 

Anyone can download the global data from Open Litter Map and create their own visualizations, like this one showing deposit vs. non-deposit containers picked up in Iowa City (if the map below doesn't show you can click here to open it):


Expand those hundreds of icons to other areas of Iowa City; to the metro region; to other cities in Iowa; to busy stretches of highway between those cities...and you can begin to see the scale of the problem.

Iowa's Bottle Bill created a financial incentive to ensure that cans and bottles found their way to proper disposal. The problem is that the law has been rendered ineffective, either through neglect or through a willful effort to undermine it at the behest of, let's say, those who aren't out there picking up litter on the roadsides with us every week.

For one thing, a nickel ain't worth what it used to be. Plug $.05 into an inflation calculator and you'll find that a deposit would need to be $.22—almost a quarter!— to have the same impact in 2024 as it did when the law was passed.  In 1979, you could collect five bottles to redeem, and with the quarter you received you could buy yourself a nice candy bar. Today? You'd need to collect 36 bottles!* 

One of the 50+ water bottles collected
at the last cleanup.
Our Bottle Bille also doesn't cover some of the most common items: water bottles. They weren't around in 1979, and our lawmakers apparently don't consider them to be a problem worth making the effort to address. Other states have modernized their Bottle Bills, increasing the deposit to $.10 and including water bottles and other single-use containers that join the alcohol and fizzy-drink containers that our law encompasses. 

And those updates clearly make a difference. A 2022 report shows that only 49% of Iowa's deposit containers are recovered. And while that is significantly better than the 25% recovery for non-deposit containers nationally, it lags far behind states that have more robust programs (Oregon, with a 10-cent deposit and a robust redemption infrastructure, leads the way with a whopping 86% recovery rate).

I'd like to assign every legislator, every citizen, who believes the Bottle Bill to be unnecessary a stretch of busy road to keep clean. I'd ask them to log the litter they find on Open Litter Map, and review the data for their patch and other areas around town to see exactly how pervasive the problem is. And then I'd ask those lawmakers to increase the deposit to a quarter (though I'd be willing to settle for a dime) and include water bottles and sports drinks. I'd ask them to make sure redemption is simple and fast, and I'd ask them to use funds from unredeemed containers for neighborhood cleanup efforts. 

And yes, with the current legislators in our state that may be a fantasy. But when we document the problem, we are creating data that other decision-makers can use in support of solving a problem at its source—the industry that creates the waste and the people who consume the products—instead of leaving it to be handled by regular folks who just want to keep their neighborhoods clean. 

You can help collect that data as well: it's as simple as snapping a photo with your phone and uploading to the Open Litter Map, tagging it with the type of litter and brand. Check out the Quick Start Guide the IC Litter Crew has put together for a walk-through, or attend a meetup with the group. 



*Economists may note that the size of a candy bar has increased since 1979 as well, from an average 1.2 ounces in 1978 to 1.55 ounces for a Hershey bar today. Adjusted for that size difference, you'd still need to collect a whopping 28 containers at a nickel apiece to buy a candy bar of the same size as a 1979 bar.


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Saturday, November 16, 2024

Big Tree Hunt Part 2: It's Pronounced "Cray-po"

 

A pretty Ginkgo at Crapo Park

The champion Bald Cypress having been located—maybe?— at Aspen Grove Cemetery, the next stop on the Burlington Big Tree Hunt was the big, beautiful Crapo Park, located at the south end of town.

At 85 acres, Crapo Park is a bit smaller than Aspen Grove, and the landscape feels considerably more orderly. Established in 1895, the park includes, in addition to the arboretum, a small constructed lake housing goldfish; a memorial to Zebulon Pike, who is said to have raised the first U.S. flag on Iowa land in 1805 as he explored the Mississippi River; a replica log cabin; and a magnificent twisting red slide, among many other features.

But the draw for this day was the arboreal residents, specifically a few choice specimens of personal interest from the Big Tree list: Blackjack Oak and Dawn Redwood (a Bald Cypress lookalike). Again, my blundering about without a plan nearly rendered the quest impossible, but my steadfast companions, better planners and more adept with mobile data, discovered that Burlington has both a tree list and a tree map of Crapo Park, with trees marked with little numbered metal tags. So armed with the vague locations from the Big Tree list and the map, we walked the park west to east, admiring all the magnificent specimens along the way.

Champion Bur Oak at Crapo Park

Not on my list, but difficult to overlook, were the spreading branches of the champion Bur Oak, near the lake. The venerable specimen had a trunk circumference of almost 16 feet, with a crown that spreads over 100 feet. 

Near the "electric fountain" on the map was my first target: the Dawn Redwood ("Tree # 777' S. of baldcypress grove E. part of Crapo Park" as described on the Big Tree list). We located the grove of Bald Cypress trees easily enough, but where was the Dawn Redwood? None of the individuals in the area seemed to have the gravitas of a champion, with trunks fairly slender when considered against the earlier Bur Oak. 

Dawn Redwood, Crapo Park

But there, almost as if in disguise, was one tree whose leaves were just a little more green than the russet of the cypresses. A definitive numbered tag was not evident, but its location matched that shown on the map. An examination of the leaves confirmed the ID: the small leaflets were attached opposite one another, as opposed to alternating leaflets of a Bald Cypress. 

The #2 champion Dawn Redwood of Iowa is a tall, skinny thing: less than 5 feet around the trunk, and 67.5 feet tall. Unlike the Bald Cypress, Dawn Redwood is a native of China—though it was found on our continent tens of millions of years ago, alongside dinosaurs. It was thought to be extinct until it was "rediscovered" in 1941. Seed collected from those isolated groves was brought to the U.S. and propagated; Dawn Redwood is now a regular landscape tree. Any individuals planted here would be a relatively youthful 60 years of age or younger.

The second tree on our quest, the Blackjack Oak, was another somewhat puny individual. Tree # 465 along Potter Avenue was not of a stature that would rate a second look normally: 5.5 feet around the trunk, and just over 47 feet tall. This species is native to the southeastern U.S., with its range just barely reaching the very southern edge of Iowa. The leaves, described as bell-shaped, are quite distinct from those of what we might typically think of with the pointy lobes of red oaks and the rounded lobes of white oaks. This late in the season there wasn't much to it, many of the leaves having already dropped.

Blackjack Oak, tree # 465
Blackjack Oak's bell-shaped leaf


Do you know any state champion trees?  Why not plan a pilgrimage in the coming year and visit the state champion of your favorite tree?

(There are six champions in Iowa City. How many could you find?)

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