Josh Poland

August 21, 2020

Hello everyone! My name is Josh Poland, 1 of the 4 interns here in Boulder City, NV working on the Joshua Tree Genome Project. It’s been over a month since my move from northwest Arkansas to Southern Nevada and I have to say, they are quite different places to live. In Arkansas, summer days with 90% humidity was not uncommon and would leave you sweating bullets within minutes of walking outside. In Nevada however, it works much differently. While the humidity never exceeds 10%, walking outside (no matter what time of day) is like sticking your face near an open oven. Fall cannot get here soon enough.

The past month has been a whirlwind of information, training, zoom meetings, and data collecting. We have gone from breaking apart Joshua Tree fruits in a small basement in our house, to working in a USGS owned Greenhouse with hundreds upon hundreds of Joshua Tree seeds. Making the move from the basement to the greenhouse, the other interns and I were told that the seeds we had collected would begin to germinate in 10-12 days, plenty of time for us to set up planter trays (that we would eventually transplant the seeds into) as well as set up an organized plan of collecting and recording data. But being 2020, those plans changed very quickly one weekend when we discovered the first radicles emerging just 2 days after being planted. Needless to say, we were a little stressed out.

But that was over a week and a half ago and things have (slightly) calmed down. Since the first radicle emerged, the other interns and I have worked from sunup ‘till sundown building and filling planter crates, collecting germination data, continuing upkeep on the seeds and the greenhouse, and creating seemingly endless excel spreadsheets pertaining to seed growth. It has been difficult work, but it has been rewarding work. I walk into the greenhouse every morning to see new radicles, hypocotyls, or cotyledons emerging from the trays and I can’t help but get a little giddy. In the craziness that the world has experienced in 2020, it’s quite a feeling to see these plants growing so well and gives me hope for their populations in the future.

As of today (August 21, 2020), we have finished transplanting 1,600 Joshua Tree Seedlings and have up-to-date data of their growth, transplanting dates, and their location in the greenhouse. We have an estimated 49 deaths so far and replacement seeds from the same matriline will soon be transplanted in their place. While it seems that the “rush” is over for now, we will continue to be vigilant with observations and data entry so we can continue forward with as little stress as possible.

Thank you all for reading, and now it is time for me and the other interns to enjoy a long-awaited break!

Until next time!

Josh Poland

A couple weeks ago one of our seasonal technicians, Jordan, and I camped for a few days near our field sites in the Nickel Creek/Juniper Mountain area (Shoshone-Bannock territory). The goal of this trip was to collect Trend data (species diversity, canopy cover, plant community composition) at as many sites as we could. Some of these points hadn’t been surveyed since the 90s, so it was important for us to go back and collect this information. We ended up completing about 8 total sites, plus a couple of photo plots, and a rare plant assessment for a nearby population of Astragalus yoder-williamsii. 

This was my first time camping for work, and it went really well! We stayed a total of 4 nights, waking up early to get started on fieldwork. It was one of the hotter weeks in Idaho that I have experienced, so both of us were definitely tired by the end of each day. It was good to relax in the evenings, work on some plant IDs, and catch up on my reading (Emergent Strategy by Adrienne Maree Brown, which I will continue to bring up at every opportunity I can). I even managed to find a couple of juniper trees to hang my hammock and watch the sun set. We even had some company! One evening Jordan and I were swarmed with some solitary bees who were attracted to our sunscreen or our sweat. At one point I had about five bees sitting on me, and a few others buzzing around. Unfortunately I didn’t manage to snap a photo, but I think they could have been a species of Xeromelecta.

Many of our sites were quite diverse, which was good to see even though it made our work a little bit more difficult. While I am becoming much more familiar with the plant community here, there were still a decent number of species I had never seen before! We took a lot of specimens back in the plant press to identify out later using a combination of Idaho keys, iNaturalist, our office herbarium, and Jessa’s expertise.

Since field season is winding down out here (it is wild to think how fast time is flying!), this will probably be my only overnight trip during this internship. However, a few of us in the office will be taking Leave No Trace training, which will be very useful in future positions where I might be doing more overnight work in the field. I am very grateful to have the opportunity to practice these skills while spending time outside and learning about the ecological communities of Idaho.

Until next time!

A quick introduction: Hi! My name is Lili Benitez (she/her) and I am interning with the Owyhee Field Office of the Bureau of Land Management office in Marsing, ID. I am a recent graduate from New College of Florida with a degree in Environmental Studies and Spanish, with a focus on plant conservation.

Just a heads up- in this post I’m going to be mentioning /discussing stolen land, police violence, and racism.

I want to start this post acknowledging that I am writing and working as an uninvited visitor on the unceded territory of the Shoshone-Bannock and of the Paiute tribes. This is important to recognize especially in relation to the Bureau of Land Management, an entity created as a result of colonization and the removal of native people from their land. By 1866 the Boise River valley and most of Southwest Idaho was taken from these tribes by the United States government. To control the newly acquired lands, The General Land Office (GLO) was created in 1868, which then merged into the Bureau of Land Management in 1946. As an intern, it is vital for me to understand this dark history and learn about the indigenous communities impacted. 

In the wake of recent attention to murders of Black people by the US police force and the following protests over the past months for Black lives, many environmental and ecological organizations continue to stay silent or make performative statements of solidarity without meaningful action. When the history of this violence is so intertwined with the racist history of white environmentalism and land management, it is unacceptable for these organizations to not speak out. We can’t be advocating for plant conservation without also fighting for justice for Black and Indigenous People of Color (BIPOC), LGBTQ+, disabled, and immigrant communities. As a white, cis, Latinx woman, I walk through this world and into these environmentalist spaces with certain privileges. While I am by no means an expert on social justice issues, I hope to practice allyship for these communities. In addition to marching, donating, listening to and amplifying BIPOC voices, one of the roots of this process is unlearning years of biased education and confronting the racist histories within my area of study. 

I’d like to share something I learned last month from listening to the Dope Labs podcast episode “Skin Deep”, and reading Ibram Kendi’s book, How to Be an Antiracist. As a young biologist, I learned about Carl Linnaeus, the “Father of Taxonomy,” a famous naturalist and botanist. However, what I never learned was that he was the father of biological racism as well. Kendi draws attention to the insidious nature of taxonomy at its invention, demonstrating how Linnaeus, in 1735, was the first to color code the human races as White, Yellow, Red, and Black in Systema Naturae. Kendi points to this moment as the start of the “blueprint that nearly every enlightened race maker followed, and that race makers still follow today… racist power[s] created them for a purpose (p. 41).” Like so many other white men that tend to be idolized in the environmental field (the National Park Service still has sites named after John Muir and other racist idols), Linnaeus was a white supremacist, and his taxonomic ideology still influences how we talk about race today. What does it mean for us as botanists and biologists to hold so much faith and respect for this system of classification when this is its history? How can we actively work to confront racism and colonial thought within our fields on a daily basis?  Stay tuned for a more lengthy post on colonial influences in botany.

Just as I am learning about these connections between social justice and my work, I am also connecting with the local environment in the field. It is amazing to have the opportunity to be outside and hang out with plants all week. This month I’ve been getting acquainted with the sage grouse habitat in the area, and learning about these plant communities. As a Texas local, everything here is new to me, which I greatly appreciate. I am learning Assessment, Inventory, and Monitoring (AIM) techniques that examine species diversity, plant composition, and soil quality, mostly for range management. However, my favorite days are those where we conduct rare plant monitoring. On these days, I go out with my mentor, Jessa, to try to find cute rare plants and evaluate how they are doing.  

To close out, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention it was Black Botanist Week last month. This effort was started by Bucknell University post-doctoral researcher Tanisha Williams and others as “a celebration of Black people who love plants. This plant love manifests in many ways ranging from tropical field ecologist to plant geneticist, from horticulturalist to botanical illustrator. We embrace the multiple ways that Black people engage with and appreciate the global diversity of plant life.” Along with Black Birders Week, these celebrations of Black scientists are a great example of combating Anti-Black racism in our fields and can inspire young BIPOC scholars to see themselves pursuing these careers. Go check out the hashtag #Blackbotanistsweek on Instagram and their website for more info. 

For more information about the Black Lives Matter movement in my part of the country, check out the BLM Boise website and follow them on Instagram and Twitter (@blmboise). Additionally, to support local Indigenous efforts, check out the Nimiipuu land protectors, whose community and sacred sites were being threatened by the “Rainbow Family Gathering” this past month as an influx of tourists and outsiders arrived in Riggings, ID. Find them on Instagram (@nimiipuulandprotectors) to learn more and support their work.

Until next time!!

Lili

Michele here, one of four interns working on the Joshua Tree Genome Project (JTGP). Last night marked my 14th night in Boulder City, NV. Last night also marked the first night finding a lizard in my bathroom sink! Do not worry, the lizard was safely moved outdoors, but weather or not it finds its way back inside remains a mystery for another day! Other than the reptilian companions, the desert has greeted us in ways we could not comprehend prior to arrival. Everyone said, it’ll be a dry heat, you’ll get so tan, and drink lots of water! Every one of those things has held truer than we imagined. This week also brought us two milestones for the Joshua Tree Genome Project: (1) we can finally access the USGS greenhouse, and (2) the Joshua Tree seeds have been watered!

Both of these events have had all of us interns sitting on the edge of our seats. Getting into the greenhouse meant that we would finally begin growing nearly 5,000 seeds that we had spent the last week cleaning, counting, sorting and planting. After spending copious hours caring for these seeds, it will be magical to see them when the first signs of growth appear.

All of the seeds were watered on August 6th. Joshua Tree seeds take approximately 7-10 days to germinate under ideal conditions. Part of our duties included designing how we would manage and collect germination data on all of the Joshua Tree seeds. Initially this task was daunting considering the shear amount of seeds there are to manage. However, creating the data sheets and arranging the plants became an adrenaline fueled frenzy to create the most efficient and detailed plan to manage the project. This was actually pretty exciting for all of us to compile our ideas into the project. Once the seeds begin to germinate we will be able to begin our monitoring plan and watch our tiny Joshua Trees emerge.

Between time spent in our little basement sorting seeds, we have gotten to meet many of the collaborators working on the Joshua Tree Genome Project from across the US. Talking with other ecologists and geneticists revealed to us a deeper understanding of the importance of the project. Gaining insight from multiple perspectives gave us a new foundation of knowledge that we did not have the week before.

To cap things off, we just got word that the Joshua Tree seeds have germinated! WOW. Things are moving quickly!

Signing off from the city that built the Hoover Dam,

Michele

Hello from Alamogordo! 

My name is Julie and I am one of two CLM interns working at the Lincoln National Forest in the Sacramento Mountains of Alamogordo, NM. We arrived in New Mexico back in June, and because of COVID-19 had to quarantine for two weeks. But since then we have been able to be out in the field almost every day and have not had many COVID related issues because of the outdoor nature of the internship. 

Using a GPS and our own two feet, we conduct botany surveys by systematically moving through areas of the National Forest searching for and recording locations of different rare plant species with the hopes of protecting as many of their populations as possible. Some of the plants we have been focusing on are Tall milkvetch (Astragalus altus), Wooton’s alumroot (Heurchera wootonii), Wooton’s hawthorn (Crataegus wootoniana), and Sacramento Mountain Thistle (Cirsium vinaceum). 

The beginning of July signified the beginning of the New Mexican monsoon season, which brings big thunderstorms into the mountains almost every afternoon from July-September.

A few weeks ago, Emma, my co-intern, and I were in a new survey plot area of 6,000-acres. This was our first big survey plot that was not along a trail, so we were eager to start tackling this massive area and find some rare plants. When we got out to the survey area, we discovered it was rocky and dry, populated by juniper and piñon pine. We were up on top of a peak, in relatively exposed area with very few tall trees, when clouds roll in and we hear the rumbles of thunder. Staying off the tall, exposed peaks, we kept surveying, even when the rain started. The road that we had taken to reach this remote area was a dusty, rocky road that would more or less turn into a mud slide in the rain. We became increasingly aware of this fact the heavier the rain got and the longer we stayed out there. 

As the rain increased, the small dirt roads became more flooded, and the lightning flashed overhead, we were forced to call it for the day. So, we climbed in our truck and started to inch our way out through the muddy roads. Eventually, after moving at a snail’s pace through the mud, we made it out safe and sound (though very damp) and still got a good start on our survey plot that day.

What a great introduction to the monsoon season and the big weather in the Sacramento Mountains!