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We did the Eschscholzia rhombipetala census last week. We
measured every plant we could find: over 200 of them. While we were
measuring, we collected information on their surroundings. We put down a
2ft. square square and within it we estimated what percent of it was bare
ground and what percent was covered by each species growing inside. Then
we took similar measurements from areas without poppies. We are trying to
figure out if the poppy is associated with another species. Of
course, we found associations last year and the year before. . . but not
this year.
The spring so far has been frustrating. I think this is because I have
been doing a lot of writing over the winter - summarizing the findings and
formulating ideas about mechanisms behind plant "behavior" (for lack of a
better word). So I come up with all these ideas and none of them seems to
be supported this spring.
This is one of the hazards of doing ecological research on annual plants -
every year is different. You may have noticed in your area that one year a
hillside is covered with wildflowers and the next year it isn't. You
wonder why and maybe you ask an expert and they'll tell you it has
something to do with the rainfall pattern or the rodent population. The
truth is, they have no fucking idea. That's why ecology is so hard. You
have to be VERY comfortable with ambiguity to be an ecologist!
So instead of getting burned out and wondering what the hell is the point
of doing research if you can't support your own damn conclusions, I need to
remember that it's fun to be wrong. It is! Where's the joy of exploration
and discovery without uncertainty!? Plus, field work is dang fun. The
other day while counting poppies, I made friends with a gopher
snake, watched a vole hop through the grass, sat in the dirt and ate a
peanut butter & jelly sandwich, burned calories hiking up and down hills,
drew a map, told jokes, went 4-wheel driving, and spent the day enjoying
the great outdoors while getting paid. Life can be good.
Today I went for my constitutional on the coast. I saw a spot of yellow up
on the bluffs and I got all excited, "I wonder what that is. . . I hope
it's not Brassica." ah how quickly blossoms jade me. I was
totally psyched to see Brassica flowering in December, but
it's a lowly introduced plant and so quickly descends to boring
and not nearly so lovely as the natives. So I got to the top of
the bluff and found it covered with goldfields ( Lasthenia )
. The bluff is super cool - there's no shelter and lots of wind - so
all the plants are less than 3 inches high. There are low-growing,
brightly colored lupines, short poppies, and tarplants flowering right next to the ground out there. It's a Lilliputian
wonderland: when I'm out there alone I feel like the giant in Jack in the
Beanstalk "hohoho!"
If you ever want to see pictures of the plants I talk about in these entries, most of them can be found here:
http://elib.cs.berkeley.edu/photos/flora/
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