Today was much quieter than yesterday. Most of the day was spent on developing research ideas, so I had a chance to start doing something with the natural history bits I picked up yesterday.
In the morning I went into the forest with Amanda, a student in Leonie Moyle's lab at IU Bloomington. We have similar interests, so we decided to search out a few questions together. We came up with a possible project looking at nectar robbers in a Malvaviscus species (in the Malvaceae, the cotton/hibiscus family). The flowers look just like a classic Hibiscus, except the petals don't open. We witnessed a couple of insects chewing or poking through the petals to steal nectar without pollinating -- a bee and a true bug. We're hoping to design some experiments around that interaction.
I also enjoyed poking around the Stenocereus columnar cacti that grow on little limestone hillocks in the forest. They grow really tall, at least 25 feet! Several different kinds of insects seem to attach egg cases or nests to the cacti. We finished up the morning with an hour of birding in the marsh, thinking about Northern Jacana mating systems and looking for new birds. Only two to add to the list today: Muscovy Duck and Great Egret. I was too busy looking at plants! We also looked at some water hyacinth flowers. Water hyacinths usually have multiple flower types in a population: short, medium and long pistils (female bits). It's an invasive plant over much of the globe, however, and often loses the short-pistil morph in introduced populations. We talked about some possible explanations for that pattern... it's the sort of thing I've spent a lot of time rolling around in my mind over the last year or so, so it was nice to discuss it with someone new.
After lunch we had some student talks and a lecture on Herps of Costa Rica. I really like endotherms (warm-blooded animals) better, but the talk temporarily helped me realize how silly that is. Frogs, toads, turtles, all so cool! But then he closed with a couple of slides of pit vipers, which we all have sensible instinctive negative reactions to, and I left feeling pretty good about focusing my energies on leafy, furry, feathery, and six-legged beings. One only has so much time in life. I'm not going to feel bad about giving less attention to a few groups of exothermic animals.
The last thing we did tonight was to split up into groups for our first faculty-led projects. 4 other students and I will be working with Dr. Andre Kessler from Cornell on an ant-acacia system question. Here's the quick and dirty intro: ant-acacias provide room and board for ant colonies, and in return the ants protect the trees from herbivores and plant competitors. Basically they attack anything that touches them - insect, mammal, or neighboring tree. If you tap a branch, the ants coming running over to bite and sting within seconds. But there is one bug that somehow gets around this -- the ants don't seem to see them, and the bugs chomp happily away at fresh new leaves while the ant colony moves on with business as usual. This is weird. We want to figure out how the bugs do it. We have a few experiments in mind, which will commence at 7 am tomorrow. Some of the methods are funky. We hope they work. Read the next post for the exciting results!!
When I took a shower tonight there was a frog in there with me. I checked the next shower because I didn't want to bother the frog, but there was another one in second shower. And really, they're only there because they like the wetness... so I jumped in and contributed to the friendly plastic habitat.
The buildings here are all open, wildlife-permeable. Completely uninsulated, but here it is always warm. There is no danger of frozen pipes. It reminds me of sleeping in a tent. But a tent with big holes that let enormous katydids in, which then sit on my mosquito netting and look at me. The iguanas amble by the door to our room in the daytime, and you can hear them scratching on the roof. Several people have found scorpions in their beds. (Not me -- but I check!!) Tonight there are white-faced capuchin monkeys in the trees outside the dorms. It's nice, it feels comfortable, a biology-friendly space.
I don't think I've mentioned the wind yet, so in closing I'll describe it. It blows hot, dry, hard, and always from the east. This is winter in the tropical dry forest; as the northern latitudes move further from the sun and it snows 6 inches in Michigan, down in central America the Intertropical Convergence Zone (the band of warm wet weather) moves south and the Trade Winds fill the vacuum, blowing west like they always do. They drop moisture from the Atlantic Ocean on their way over the mountains east of here, leaving the west side of Costa Rica in the hot, dry rain shadow. Hence the dry winter. When winter comes to the southern hemisphere, the warm-wet gets pushed back north. The rainy season starts in May.
What this means for me is that I can't drink enough water -- the moisture is pulled right out of the air -- and walking on the road or birding in the open marsh involves getting a big piece of grit blown right in my eye at least once every 15 minutes. It also means the grass is brown, most of the trees are losing their leaves, and there are at least 3 species of cactus thriving. It is a very cool place.