Featured Creature: Palm Tree

Coconut palms in Key West, FL. Image open source.

What tree isn’t really a tree at all, has no annual growth rings, no taproot, and no branches — yet can outlast almost everything around it in hurricane-force winds?

The Palm Tree!

Coconut palms in Key West, FL. Image open source.

This week’s Featured Creature is written by Lori Pierelli, Bio4Climate’s Director of Communications and Strategic Engagement. A transplant from Maryland to Florida, Lori now lives in the land of palm trees . . . and hurricanes. After removing the stump of a palm tree that did not survive Hurricane Helene floodwaters, Lori discovered an extraordinary network of roots that needed to be removed. It was then she realized how these trees nearly always survive storms that take down almost everything else around them. . .

When you imagine a palm tree, you almost always picture them in a setting of sunny weather, tropical breezes, and turquoise waters. And you’re not wrong. But palm trees are much more than scenery for beachy dreams or a background for vacation memories. Their resiliency and ecological engineering help stabilize and restore storm-damaged areas like those along the Florida Gulf Coast.

Globally, there are more than 2,500 species of palms spread across tropical and subtropical regions. Part of the Arecaceae family, palm trees are monocots (a type of flowering plant characterized by seeds that contain only one embryonic leaf) and are more closely related to grasses than what we typically picture as a “tree.” Palms don’t have annual growth rings, they don’t branch out in the same way, and their root systems are completely different.

While most trees have a single taproot from which their roots spread, palm trees have a dense, fairly shallow network of fibrous roots that emerge from a small area around the base of the trunk. The roots maintain a generally uniform thickness as they grow outward, forming a flexible network that grips into sandy or saturated soil.

The flexible network of roots is how the trees stay standing in hurricane winds. As the winds push against the palm, the trunk bends and sways. The root system shifts but holds. In loose coastal sands or flood-soaked ground, the root system distributes the force instead of concentrating it in a single, rigid point. Even after a palm dies, those roots continue to matter. As they decay, they leave channels in the soil that allow water to infiltrate more easily, air to move downward, and microbes and invertebrates to travel. Even after the tree is gone, the root structure doesn’t simply disappear.

Spotlighting Florida Natives

Palm trees are ancient “grasses” that build living architecture above and below ground. In Florida, two types of palm tree showcase the resiliency of these monocots: the cabbage palm (Sabal palmetto; the Florida state tree), and the low-growing saw palmetto (Serenoa repens). These cousins thrive in hurricane country, from coastal dunes to inland hammocks, stitching together sandy soils and storm-battered landscapes.

Cabbage palms grow anywhere from 30 to 80 feet, their fan-like fronds fanning out from a fibrous trunk that sways without snapping. They anchor marshes, barrier islands, and urban edges, tolerating salt spray, poor drainage, and fire. Their fruits — sweet, black drupes — are a feast for northern cardinals, mockingbirds, raccoons, black bears, and Keys deer, while nectar-rich flowers draw bees, butterflies, and wasps. Epiphytes like Spanish moss and resurrection ferns drape the trunks, sheltering treefrogs, anoles, and nesting cavity birds such as screech owls and pileated woodpeckers.

Cabbage palms; Open Source.

Saw palmettos hug the ground in dense thickets, their fan leaves edged with tiny saw-teeth. They bind dunes against erosion, shelter quail, gopher tortoises, rabbits, and marsh rabbits from predators and storms, and resprout after fires or floods. 
(Note: the saw palmetto shown in the author’s image below sprouted after Hurricane Helene. There was no indication of any sort of palm in that spot prior to the flood, and the author did not plant it.) 
 

Saw palmetto berries nourish black bears, Florida panthers, scrub jays, and white-tailed deer, while small white flowers lure sweat bees, native solitary bees, and hoverflies. The shaded understory becomes a safe haven for cotton rats, skinks, grasshoppers, and even bobwhite quail chicks hiding from hawks. (So far, the author hasn’t seen any bears, deer, or panthers in her yard.)

Saw palmetto. Courtesy Lori Pierelli, from her side yard.

Cold Limits

Palm trees are synonymous with tropical weather for a simple reason. They’re adapted to warm climates but not cold. Most species struggle when the temperature drops below freezing because their cells lack “antifreeze” proteins (thickened cell walls) that prevent ice crystal damage. Freezes cause fronds to yellow and drop, meristems (the growing tips) to blacken and die, and vascular tissues to rupture as water expands into ice.

Sabal palmettos tend to be hardier and can survive brief temperature drops to as low as 15°F (-9°C), but prolonged cold or wet freezes can still kill young palms or stress mature ones.

Saw palmettos handle the cold similarly. While their lower profile offers some ground-level protection, sharp frosts can brown their fans and slow berry production.

Temperature vulnerabilities are what define the range of palm trees, and prove that even resilient creatures have limits built on millennia of equatorial evolution.

Spikes. Spikes? Spikes!

Palm Spikes; Image from Wikimedia Commons.

Many palms, including varieties common in Florida yards, sport sharp spines along their stalks.
(And yes, they hurt when you try to trim the fronds, even if you’re wearing thick gardening gloves.)

The spikes do serve a purpose, however. They are a defense mechanism against hungry herbivores, making tender leaves and growing tips harder to reach. In wilder settings, they thwart feral pigs and overbrowsing from invasive species. They also create safe nooks for smaller creatures like fence lizards, Carolina wrens, and juvenile snakes. They are a perfect example of the dichotomy of nature: repelling some species while welcoming others.

Ecosystem Engineers

Palm trees aren’t just survivors. They are active “ecosystem engineers,” creating conditions that support a range of life systems. Below ground, their fibrous roots form a living net that traps nutrients washed from sandy soils, slows floodwater runoff to recharge aquifers, and feeds mycorrhizal fungi, nematodes, springtails, and earthworms that churn and enrich the earth. Even as roots turn over, they support carbon and nitrogen cycles by maintaining pore spaces that boost infiltration, cut erosion, and let oxygen reach deeper microbes.

Above ground, the support systems multiply. Fallen palm fronds create a thick layer of mulch that suppresses weeds, retains moisture through dry spells, and decomposes into humus that feeds ground-nesters like ants and beetles. The rough bark of palm trunks hosts orchids, tillandsias, and bromeliads whose tiny tanks shelter frogs, springtails, and fairy shrimp, while older frond “skirts” offer roost sites for bats, owls, and insects. Flowers provide pulsed nectar for bees and butterflies, and fruits sustain hungry animals, such as  cardinals who strip seeds, or bears who raid fallen drupes.

Palms are also carbon sinks, locking CO₂ into persistent fibers and fruits, bolstering coastal “blue carbon” in marshes and mangroves against sea rise and waves. They moderate microclimates by shading and cooling burrows for tortoises and rabbits, creating windbreaks that protect seedlings, and humdifying dry air for understory herbs as their fronds evaporate.

After significant events such as floods or gale force wind storms, palms jump-start habitat recovery because they resprout quickly and rapidly provide structures where animals can hide and forage while full habitats rebuild.

Palm tree survivors among Hurricane Melissa (2025) devastation in Black River, Jamaica. Copyright @Traceyathorne, Instagram.

Enjoying the Beach Vibes with a New Level of Understanding

Next time you’re dreaming of lounging by the sea with a cold drink in your hand, remember that the warm tropical breeze blowing through your hair is being created by much more than just another type of tree. The quintessential vacation backdrop has been adapted over millenia into one of nature’s most sophisticated living infrastructures, sheltering native species, pulling carbon from the air, recharging aquifers, and anchoring shorelines against storms. Experiencing these wonders of nature are one more reason to book that tropical vacation!

Sources

Featured Creature: Coquerel’s sifaka

An adult Coquerel’s sifaka photographed in Madagascar's Ankarafantsika National Park
Image credit: Allan Hopkins via Flickr (CC-BY-NC-ND)

What animal gained fame in a 1990s children’s TV show, and whose leaping abilities bring to mind a graceful human dancer?

The Coquerel’s sifaka (Propithecus coquereli)!

Coquerel’s sifaka in tree
An adult Coquerel’s sifaka photographed in Madagascar’s Ankarafantsika National Park
Image credit: Allan Hopkins via Flickr (CC-BY-NC-ND)

One of the shows, which I fondly recall growing up in the 1990’s was a live-action/animated children’s series titled Zoboomafoo. Created and hosted by zoologists and wildlife filmmakers, the Kratt Brothers (Chris and Martin Kratt), the show featured a talking Coquerel’s sifaka lemur named Zoboomafoo, who for the most part, was puppeteered, but in certain shots, was played by the “famous” lemur Jovian. Jovan’s appearance and his characteristic forward-facing bipedal bounds on the ground with his arms outstretched to the sides, made him a sight to behold, and his species leapt to the top among my favorite group of primates, the lemurs.

Cliché, but True: LEAPING LEMURS!

Native to the dry northwestern forests of Madagascar, the Coquerel’s sifaka, like other sifaka species, are distinguished from other lemur species by the way they move around their habitat: vertical clinging and leaping. Maintaining a vertical posture, sifakas leap from tree to tree using their long, powerful back legs, which can easily propel them distances up to 33 feet (10 m)! This unique motion isn’t limited to arboreal movement, however. Like their close cousin, the Verreaux’s sifaka, stretching their arms to the sides for balance, Coquerel’s sifakas move on open ground between areas of trees using bipedal hops. Unlike the former species, which bound sideways and cross their legs one in front of the other, the latter species bounds forward like a kangaroo, leaning in the direction of its jump to achieve forward momentum. In either case, these ground bounds evoke a human dancer! What’s more, the Coquerel’s sifaka has the amazing ability to leap to and across spiny trees and precisely place its hands and feet so that it won’t hurt itself on the cactus-like spines.

Girl Power!

Like most lemur species, the Coquerel’s sifaka is matriarchal–females hold a dominant status above males, they have preferential access to food and other resources, and they exhibit a polyandrous mating system, in which females mate with multiple males. Unlike other animal species which exhibit polyandry primarily to increase the chances for successful fertilization, polyandry among Coquerel’s sifakas is thought to be advantageous because when exact paternity is not known among the males of a group, the likelihood of infanticide among the potential fathers decreases.

Mouths: Useful for Munching, Vocalizing, and Cleaning

The Coquerel’s sifaka spends 30%-40% of the day foraging, especially during the morning, midday, and evening hours. They are herbivorous, with a diet that varies by season. In the dry season, they feed on mature leaves and buds, while in the wet season, immature leaves, flowers, fruit, bark, and dead wood are on the menu. Their diet contains a lot of fiber, so in order to aid in digestion, they have an enlarged cecum coupled with an extremely long colon. Thanks to each family group constantly moving around their home range, when releasing waste material as dung, Coquerel’s sifakas aid in seed dispersion of plant species throughout their forested habitat.

The Coquerel’s sifaka uses a wide variety of communication methods to relay messages about potential danger, territorial boundaries, and mood, among others. Among the most famous of their signals are their vocal signals. The word “shifaka” is a Malagasy name that comes from the lemurs’ characteristic “shif-auk” sound. The first syllable is a low growl that “bubbles” in the throat, and the second is a clicking sound like an amplified hiccup. The “shih-fak” call is used to warn fellow group members of a potential ground predator, or to threaten enemies and intruders, as all sifaka species are territorial. Contact calls used when family groups are traveling include soft grunts and growls. If a sifaka is separated from the group, it may emit a long, loud wail to find fellow members.

Coquerel’s sifakas have also been observed using visual signals to communicate as well. One of these is a rapid backward jerking of the head, which is a threatening action which may accompany the “shih-fak” call. They also rely heavily on scent for communication. Males typically scent-mark using a gland in their throats, which they will rub back and forth along branches. Females are more likely to scent-mark with anogenital glands. Despite the observance of scent-marking by researchers, it is not entirely clear what information is conveyed in these scents besides marking territory.

Like all lemurs, cleanliness is a must. Not only do Coquerel’s sifakas use what’s known as a toothcomb to occasionally scrape fruit off of a pit, but even more, they use this specialized dental structure consisting of a group of front teeth to groom one another. Like with other primates, grooming is a social activity that strengthens the bond between group members.

Many Conservation Threats, and Much Needed Collaboration

Like many other lemurs, the Coquerel’s sifaka have been studied extensively to help scientists learn about the evolutionary history of primates, including humans. They have been the subject of those researching the evolution of color vision, paternal care, matriarchal primate societies, and causes of speciation.

Unfortunately, 98% of lemur species (103 out of 107 listed on the IUCN’s Red List) are threatened with extinction, and of these, 31% of species (33 in total) are listed as Critically Endangered, including the Coquerel’s sifaka. The biggest threats facing the Coquerel’s sifaka are hunting for both local food and the pet trade, as well as habitat destruction in the form of slash-and-burn agriculture and annual burning to create new pasture for human livestock. Charcoal enterprises occurring in their “corner” of Madagascar are another habitat-destroyer of the already restricted distribution of this lemur species. Traditional beliefs placed major taboos on sifaka hunting, but new immigrants coming into the region in search of income are changing these beliefs through cultural erosion.

The Coquerel’s sifaka is listed in Appendix I of the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES), an international agreement between governments whose goal is to ensure that international trade in specimens of wild plants and animals doesn’t threaten their survival. Coquerel’s sifakas are found in three protected areas in Madagascar: Ankarafantsika National Park, Anjiamangirana Protected Area, and Anjajavy Reserve. Unfortunately, habitat loss and hunting still pose threats in the former two locations.

Issues regarding Madagascar’s poverty have limited conservation efforts, especially when considering the need to burn down forest portions for economic gain and farmland. For this reason, it is critical to note that until the people of Madagascar can prosper, it will be difficult for the island’s unique wildlife to do the same. For this reason, the Wildlife Conservation Society has been collaborating with local communities to improve agricultural methods, develop businesses focused on sustainable resources, and modernize the local economies.

In addition, the American Journal of Primatology published a study in 2014 which recommended community-based conservation actions geared towards preserving forest connectivity, enacting alternative methods of charcoal production, logging, and grass fires, minimizing poaching, and collaborating with local authorities and researchers to ensure long-term monitoring of Coquerel’s sifakas in Ankarafantsika National Park.

With time and collaboration, hopefully the people and the truly unique wildlife of Madagascar will bounce back, and the Coquerel’s sifaka can continue to leap within the island’s northwestern dry forests for decades to come.


Sienna Weinstein is a wildlife photographer, zoologist, and lifelong advocate for the conservation of wildlife across the globe. She earned her B.S. in Zoology from the University of Vermont, followed by a M.S. degree in Environmental Studies with a concentration in Conservation Biology from Antioch University New England. While earning her Bachelor’s degree, Sienna participated in a study abroad program in South Africa and Eswatini (formerly Swaziland), taking part in fieldwork involving species abundance and diversity in the southern African ecosystem. She is also an official member of the Upsilon Tau chapter of the Beta Beta Beta National Biological Honor Society.

Deciding at the end of her academic career that she wanted to grow her natural creativity and hobby of photography into something more, Sienna dedicated herself to the field of wildlife conservation communication as a means to promote the conservation of wildlife. Her photography has been credited by organizations including The Nature Conservancy, Zoo New England, and the Smithsonian’s National Zoo and Conservation Biology Institute. She was also an invited reviewer of an elephant ethology lesson plan for Picture Perfect STEM Lessons (May 2017) by NSTA Press. Along with writing for Bio4Climate, she is also a volunteer writer for the New England Primate Conservancy. In her free time, she enjoys playing video games, watching wildlife documentaries, photographing nature and wildlife, and posting her work on her LinkedIn profile. She hopes to create a more professional portfolio in the near future.


References:

https://animals.sandiegozoo.org/animals/coquerels-sifaka

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coquerel%27s_sifaka

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sifaka

https://www.iucnredlist.org/species/18355/115572275

https://www.lemurconservationnetwork.org/learn/the-iucn-red-list-and-lemurs/

https://lemur.duke.edu/discover/meet-the-lemurs/coquerels-sifaka/
https://www.marylandzoo.org/animal/coquerels-sifaka/

https://neprimateconservancy.org/coquerels-sifaka/

https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1002/ajp.22243
https://programs.wcs.org/madagascar/About-Us/News/articleType/ArticleView/articleId/25728.aspx

https://www.sfzoo.org/coquerels-sifaka/

Images:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/hoppy1951/45134640554/

Featured Creature: Black Bear

PanAmericana 2017 - the image was taken on an overlanding travel from Ushuaia to Anchorage - taken by Thomas Fuhrmann, SnowmanStudios - see more pictures on / mehr Aufnahmen auf www.snowmanstudios.de

What animal travels over 100 miles for food and, due to warming temperatures, is suffering from insomnia?

The Black Bear!

Observing the scene from a large boulder at the water’s edge, the silence is disrupted by a faint clanging in the bushes as an unnatural rustling sounds from my campsite. Enraptured by the unfurling of clouds across the jagged landscape, I don’t see the creature until it emerges from a cluster of pines, pattering along a neighboring stretch of bedrock. The Black Bear is only 20 feet away when it dips into the water, head bobbing as the creature paddles to the other side of the lake. When it reaches the opposing shore, I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding, and watch as it pulls itself out of the water and crawls onto the green grass. The bear blends in with the darkness and disappears into the night.

It was the last night of a seven-day backpacking trip in Kings Canyon National Park in the Sierra Nevada mountains of California. We were staying at a campsite by Emerald Lake. After the bear encounter, I later returned to my campsite, only to find my bear barrels, designed to securely store food and other smellable items, scattered about – a reminder of the bear’s presence, and the complicated relationship between our species.

Photo by Adrianna Drindak

The Black Bear, also known as the American Black Bear, is found throughout North America, from the rugged Arctic regions of Alaska and Canada to parts of northern Mexico. In search of food, these creatures will travel up to 100 miles outside their territories, with their food availability often differing depending on the season. As omnivores, Black Bears consume both plants and other animals. Black bears help the growth of plants, such as berries, because the seeds are able to exit their digestive track and germinate – with the added benefit of fertile soil.

In the Pacific Northwest, Black Bears are well-known for their consumption of salmon. After catching and consuming salmon, Black Bears will often leave the carcasses at the edges of the stream or river, in an area known as the riparian zone. The salmon release nitrogen into the soil, which is then absorbed by large plant species. There is evidence that the nutrients from the salmon, created as a result of their predator-prey relationship with Black Bears, increase the overall health and well-being of the forest ecosystems in these areas.

[1], Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

In many areas, Black Bear food availability is being impacted by climate change. Recently, a group of researchers from the University of Nevada, Reno aimed to better understand how bear behavior has changed over time, especially the tension between human centers and Black Bear habitats. The group found that temperature swings in the early spring are devastating Black Bear food supply, resulting in bears seeking out food sources in human-centered areas. According to Dr. Kelley Stewart, who is leading the project, “The plants start growing and flowering with an early spring warm-up, and then there’s a late-season frost that takes them all out. It especially affects berries and the harder things like acorns, pine nuts and other things that nature normally provides for bears.” This decrease in food supply is leading to another negative outcome: Black Bears entering human settlements in search of food. 

With increased human-bear interactions, bear mortality rises. While in part a result of lacking food resources, scavenging in human-dominated areas can result in the bears getting hit by cars or being euthanized. In June of 2024, Sierra County, California reported the first Black Bear-caused human mortality in recorded California history. Researchers have connected late frosts in early spring causing twice as many lethal removals of Black Bears compared to years without these cold snaps. When bears seek out the food of humans, they get used to trash and other attractants as a viable food source, therefore increasing their proximity to human centers. When bears become habituated to these environments, and human food, they are often labelled as “dangerous” and are euthanized.

There are communities working to repair this relationship between Black Bears and human-occupied places. The Boulder Bear Coalition was founded in 2014 and aims to educate the Boulder, Colorado residents on “proactively reducing attractants and enhancing deterrents.” Their methods focus on targeting the root of the issue, such as securing trash and providing resources so residents can implement strategies that keep bears and people safe. But the question remains that if Black Bears are seeking out human food in response to limited sustenance availability, do these actions solve the fundamental problem of our changing climate?

Climate change not only threatens Black Bear food supplies, but also their hibernation patterns. During the winter, Black Bears enter a state of decreased heart rate and dormancy known as hibernation, which is a response to colder temperatures. In preparation for hibernation, bears partake in excessive eating habits, otherwise known as hyperphagia. This increase in food intake helps build up body mass for the long winter months. However, with warming winters, bears are not sleeping for as long as they used to. According to a recent study, the length of bear hibernation could decrease by 19 to 39 days by 2050. With a shorter hibernation period, Black Bears will be threatened by limited food supply during the winter months. Which only becomes more complicated by the availability of human-caused waste and attractants – therefore resulting in further conflict and bear euthanizations.

It was our last night in the alpine zone. We reached our destination, Moose Lake, in the early afternoon, and had the rest of the day to enjoy our last night at elevation. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a sleek figure meander along the shore. The shape of the creature slowly came into focus. There was a Black Bear wandering only twenty feet away from our campsite, scrambling along the rock edge, looking blissfully serene as it glanced back and forth to the shore ahead and the crystal clear water. Barely looking our way, the bear prodded into the distance, its body ebbing and flowing with the gently lapping shoreline. It continued along the water’s edge before disappearing on the far side of the lake.

My experiences in the California backcountry have shown that mutual respect between our species is possible – and has the power to be a beautiful relationship. In the face of climate change, we must learn to co-exist and compromise with care and empathy in our ever-evolving landscape.

To learn more about the connection between humans and species like bears, watch the webinar we hosted in partnership with GBH last year. In The Goldilocks Strategy: Getting Our Relationship with Bears and Lions Just Right, hear straight from experts working with lions and bears and communities that live alongside them. 

Photo by Adrianna Drindak

Adrianna Drindak is a rising senior at Dartmouth College studying Environmental Earth Sciences and Environmental Studies. Prior to interning at Bio4Climate, she worked as a field technician studying ovenbirds at Hubbard Brook Experimental Forest and as a laboratory technician in an ecology lab. Adrianna is currently an undergraduate researcher in the Quaternary Geology Lab at Dartmouth, with a specific focus on documenting climate history and past glaciations in the northeast region of the United States. This summer, Adrianna is looking forward to applying her science background to an outreach role, and is excited to brainstorm ways to make science more accessible. In her free time, Adrianna enjoys reading, baking gluten free treats, hiking, and backpacking.


Sources:

Featured Creature: Camel

A dromedary camel photographed in Varamin, Iran
Image credit: Houman Doroudi via iNaturalist (CC-BY-NC)

What animal is the “Superhero of the Desert,” reshaping entire ecosystems simply by eating, roaming, and . . . pooping?

Meet the Desert Superhero! 

A dromedary camel photographed in Varamin, Iran
Image credit: Houman Doroudi via iNaturalist (CC-BY-NC)

Desert wanderer
Curved as the dunes he walks on
Splat! Anger expressed

A close family friend asked me to cover camels as one of my Featured Creatures. Ask, and ye shall receive! Despite the majority of camels today being domesticated species, they still play important roles in their local ecosystem, and contribute to the biodiversity of the habitats in which they live.

Dominating the Desert, and De-bunking Assumptions

Camels are far more than the four-legged, desert pack animals typically shown in movies—their presence shapes the health, stability, and biodiversity of their ecosystems. Their grazing patterns, movement, digestion, and remarkable resilience collectively engineer the landscapes they inhabit.

Camels haven’t just adapted to desert life, their entire bodies are designed for endurance in some of the most unforgiving climates on Earth. Did you know they can go up to 10 days without drinking, even in extreme heat! Their long legs help keep them cool, elevating their bodies away from ground temperatures that can reach 158ºF (70°C), and their thick coat insulates them against radiant heat. In the summer, their coats lighten to reflect the sunlight.

Long eyelashes, ear hairs, and sealable nostrils protect against the blowing sand, while their wide, padded feet keep them from sinking into the desert sand or snow. Bactrian camels grow heavy winter coats that enable survival in winter temperatures (-20ºF [-29ºC]), then shed them to adapt to the hot summer temperatures. Their mouths have a thick, leathery lining that allows them to chew thorny, salty vegetation, with split, mobile upper lips that help them grasp sparse grasses . . . and spit. Well, sorta. . .  

Desert Engineers and Seed Dispersers

These “ships of the desert” feed on thorny, salty, dry plants that most herbivores avoid, keeping dominant species in check and promoting plant diversity. Their nomadic lifestyle prevents overgrazing, spreading this balancing effect across vast ranges and reducing the risk of desertification. As they move, they disperse seeds in their dung, enriching poor soils with nutrients and enabling new vegetation to take hold where it otherwise could not. 

Even their hydration strategy—relying heavily on moisture from plants and drinking only occasionally—protects scarce water sources that smaller species depend on. Trails they create become pathways for other wildlife, while their presence attracts predators and scavengers, helping sustain food webs in seemingly barren terrain.

People often assume that camels carry water in their humps and spit when they are annoyed. But those humps aren’t sloshing with water. They are fat-storage structures that provide a slow-burning energy reserve when food is scarce. And that spitting? It’s actually a warning system composed of both saliva and partially digested stomach contents. 

Helping People and Ecosystems Endure

Even though they may look goofy at first, the ecological and cultural value of the camel is extraordinary. 

They have supported human survival in harsh environments for thousands of years. Domesticated camels provide wool, meat, milk, transportation, and labor. Their endurance and strength have made them central to trade routes, cultural traditions, and economic activity across regions where few other animals could thrive.

Camels shape vegetation patterns, support biodiversity, stabilize fragile ecosystems, and enable life in regions that would otherwise be nearly uninhabitable. Without camels, many desert landscapes would lose the very processes that sustain them.

So next time you see a camel, in a movie, at a zoo, or on your travels, remember that these are no ordinary creatures. They are survival specialists and a cornerstone of some of the world’s harshest and most remarkable environments.

The wild bactrian camel (of which there are only 950 remaining)
photographed in Mongolia’s Gobi Desert.
Image credit: Chris Scharf, a client of Royle Safaris via iNaturalist (CC-BY-NC)

Sienna Weinstein is a wildlife photographer, zoologist, and lifelong advocate for the conservation of wildlife across the globe. She earned her B.S. in Zoology from the University of Vermont, followed by a M.S. degree in Environmental Studies with a concentration in Conservation Biology from Antioch University New England. While earning her Bachelor’s degree, Sienna participated in a study abroad program in South Africa and Eswatini (formerly Swaziland), taking part in fieldwork involving species abundance and diversity in the southern African ecosystem. She is also an official member of the Upsilon Tau chapter of the Beta Beta Beta National Biological Honor Society.

Deciding at the end of her academic career that she wanted to grow her natural creativity and hobby of photography into something more, Sienna dedicated herself to the field of wildlife conservation communication as a means to promote the conservation of wildlife. Her photography has been credited by organizations including The Nature Conservancy, Zoo New England, and the Smithsonian’s National Zoo and Conservation Biology Institute. She was also an invited reviewer of an elephant ethology lesson plan for Picture Perfect STEM Lessons (May 2017) by NSTA Press. Along with writing for Bio4Climate, she is also a volunteer writer for the New England Primate Conservancy. In her free time, she enjoys playing video games, watching wildlife documentaries, photographing nature and wildlife, and posting her work on her LinkedIn profile. She hopes to create a more professional portfolio in the near future.


Dig Deeper

https://animals.sandiegozoo.org/animals/camel

https://arkbiodiv.com/2022/05/18/the-camels-play-important-role-in-ecosystem-management-important-actor-of-the-desert/

https://dairynews.today/global/news/odnogorbyy1-verblyud-klyuchevoy-vid-dlya-vozrozhdeniya-pustyni-i-ustoychivogo-razvitiya.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camel

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wild_Bactrian_camel

https://kimd.org/the-role-of-camels-in-desert-ecosystems/

https://www.worldatlas.com/articles/how-many-types-of-camels-live-in-the-world-today.html

https://www.worldwildlife.org/stories/what-do-camels-store-in-their-humps-and-other-camel-superpowers

https://www.zsl.org/news-and-events/news/wild-bactrian-camel-research

Featured Creature: Macrotermes Termites

What is the second most consumed insect group in the world (by humans) that can build nests with heights up to 9 meters (29.5 feet) and has a symbiotic relationship with fungi?

Macrotermes carbonarius (Image Credit: Soh Kam Yung via iNaturalist (CC-BY-NC))

As a featured creature writer for Bio4Climate, I try to read through as many of our published pieces as possible, even those that pre-date my tenure. It’s a tall order, there are so many! Hidden alongside the grand humpback whale, the impressionable Pando, and the beautiful luna moth, I found Fred Jennings’ piece on the zombie ant fungus: an unpleasant looking insect-pathogenic fungus that attaches to ants’ exoskeletons and takes over their bodies from the inside out. It was a little grotesque, a little unsettling, and completely and utterly fascinating. 

I’ve been wanting to write about a creature that doesn’t usually make the highlight reel…something easy to overlook, but essential in its own way. My hope is to inspire curiosity (and appreciation) for the parts of nature that don’t always fit our ideas of beauty.

More Than Just Pests

When I think of termites I think about how people, especially homeowners, consider them pests. One of the first links that pops up in an online search for the word termites is the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency’s guide for how to identify and control them. But just as it’s unfair to call sloths lazy simply because they move slowly, it’s unfair to define termites only by their “pest” status. They weren’t ever “pests” until we made them so. 

Macrotermes vitrialatus (Image Credit: Craig Peter via iNaturalist (CC-BY-NC))

Macrotermes are fungus-growing termites that reside in tropical regions of Africa and Asia. These insects are larger than other common termites, the largest of all 330 species being the Macrotermes bellicosus, with queens reaching over four inches in length! Most of these bugs are dark brown, with some exceptions like the Macrotermes carbonarius, which are entirely black, and the Macrotermes gilvus, which have orange/red-brown heads.

Termites are a valuable part of many ecosystems. Like fungi, bacteria, and detritivores like millipedes, they decompose dead plant material, modifying the physical and chemical distribution of the soil. Creatures like termites restore soil that’s been degraded and play a key role in cellulose recycling, breaking down plants, wood, and paper into smaller molecules other organisms can use, and returning nutrients to the ecosystem. But, these termites are pretty special for a reason other than their role as ecosystem engineers.

Teamwork Makes the Colony Work

Macrotermes thrive thanks to teamwork, and a symbiotic partnership with a fungus that shares their life cycle. It’s remarkable that these termites (just like other creature populations) cooperate so well in such large numbers. Macrotermes colonies have a highly organized social system in which each insect has a role that makes life efficient and successful: workers gather food and build and maintain the nest/mound, soldiers use their strong jaws to protect the colony from predators like ants, and the queen and king reproduce. This social complexity is mirrored by the colony’s architecture. 

Macrotermes carbonarius (Image Credit: Dirk Mezger via iNaturalist (CC-BY-NC))

Termite mounds aren’t just shelters, they’re marvels of natural engineering. Built with purpose, these architectural feats regulate temperature and humidity to create the ideal environment for the termite’s fungal partner, Termitomyces, to grow. After foraging for wood or dead plant material, Macrotermes workers masticate and deposit it in chambers inside their nest, producing the perfect substrate for fungus to grow into a comb. Macrotermes cultivate these fungus gardens and feed on them while the fungus degrades plant material, resulting in a continuous supply of food for the termites. To stimulate the right conditions for Termitomyces to grow, macrotermes build their nests with air ducts and ventilation systems. As the fungus produces heat in the nest, workers can open or block individual tunnels that lead to the surface to regulate temperature and humidity. These structures are built to various heights, with some only one foot tall while exceptional ones can rise more than 30 feet. 

Macrotermes and Humans

Macrotermes termites are an important edible insect widely consumed throughout Africa, along with their fungus gardens. People use the bugs, mushrooms, and termite soil in medicinal practices. The soil can be used as fertilizer or as building material to make bricks and plaster houses. These insects are also used as bait and feed for livestock. Alongside these uses, macrotermes termites have a role in superstitious beliefs, their nests serving as burying places associated with the spiritual world.

Outside their habitat in urban environments, most macrotermes are unable to survive, so they aren’t considered pests like other termites because they don’t cause as much damage to wood structures like homes and buildings. In contrast, macrotermes can pose threats to agriculture by directly consuming crops, roots, and stems of plants. But, like nearly every other creature in the natural world, these bugs don’t live without some challenges of their own.

The largest threat to termites is changes in land use; particularly transitions to organized orchards and more intensified agricultural practices. As ecosystem engineers that contribute directly to the nutrient makeup of the soil in their ecosystem, the changes in land use can have damaging effects on the landscape and organisms throughout the food cycle.

Macrotermes carbonarius (Image Credit: budak via iNaturalist (CC-BY-NC)) 

Nature deserves to be seen in its full complexity, not just through the lens of what we find beautiful, helpful, scary, or annoying. When we only celebrate the vibrant colors, graceful shapes, or soothing sounds, we risk overlooking the strange, the hidden, and the essential. 


Abigail Gipson is an environmental advocate with a bachelor’s degree in humanitarian studies from Fordham University. Working to protect the natural world and its inhabitants, Abigail is specifically interested in environmental protection, ecosystem-based adaptation, and the intersection of climate change with human rights and animal welfare. She loves autumn, reading, and gardening. 




Dig Deeper


Featured Creature: Strangler Fig

What creature grows backwards and can swallow a tree whole?

The strangler fig!

A strangler fig in Mossman Gorge, Queensland. (Image by author).

A Fig Grows in Manhattan

I recently wrapped a fig tree for the winter. Nestled in the back of a community garden, in the heart of New York City, I was one of many who flocked not for its fruit but for its barren limbs. An Italian cultivar, and therefore unfit to withstand east coast winters, this fig depends on a bundle of insulation to survive the season. The tree grows in Elizabeth Street Garden, a space that serves the community in innumerable ways, including as a source of ecological awareness.

Wrapping the fig was no small task. With frozen fingers we tied twigs together with twine, like bows on presents. Strangers held branches for one another to fasten, and together we contained the fig’s unwieldy body into clusters. Neighbors exchanged introductions and experienced volunteers advised the novice, including me. Though I’d spent countless hours in the garden, this was my first fig wrapping. My arms trembled as the tree resisted each bind. Guiding the branches together without snapping them was a delicate balance. But caring for our fig felt good and I like to think that after several springs in the sunlight it understood our efforts. Eventually, we wrapped each cluster with burlap, stuffed them with straw and tied them off again. In the end, the tree resembled a different creature entirely.

Growing Down

Two springs earlier, I was wrapped up with another fig. I was in Australia for a semester, studying at the University of Melbourne, and had traveled with friends to the northeast coast of Queensland to see the Great Barrier Reef. It was there that I fell in love with the oldest tropical rainforest in the world, the Daintree Rainforest. 

The fig I found there was monumental. Its roots spread across the forest floor like a junkyard of mangled metal beams that seemed to never end. They climbed and twisted their way around an older tree, reaching over the canopy where they encased it entirely.

The strangler fig begins its life at the top of the forest, often from a seed dropped by a bird into the notch of another tree. From there it absorbs an abundance of light inaccessible to the forest’s understory and sends its roots crawling down its support tree in search of fertile ground. Quickly then, the strangler fig grows, fueled by an unstoppable combination of sunlight, moisture, and nutrients from the soil. Sometimes, in this process, the fig consumes and strangles its support tree to death, hence its name. Other times, the fig can actually act as a brace or shield, protecting the support tree from storms and other damage. Even as they may overtake one tree, strangler figs also give new life to the forest.

As many as one million figs can come from a single tree. It is these figs that attract the animals who disperse both their seeds and the seeds of thousands of other plant species. With more than 750 species of Ficus feeding more than 1,200 distinct species of birds and mammals, the fig is a keystone resource of the tropical rainforest —the ecological community depends upon its presence and without it, the habitat’s biodiversity is at risk.

Fig-Wasp Pollination

Like the strangler fig, its pollination story is also one of sacrifice. Each fig species is uniquely pollinated by one, or in some cases a few, corresponding species of wasp. While figs are commonly thought of as fruit, they are technically capsules of many tiny flowers turned inward, also known as a syconium. This is where their pollination begins. The life of a female fig wasp essentially starts when she exits the fig from which she was born to reproduce inside of another. Each Ficus species depends upon one or two unique species of wasps, and she must find a fig of both the right species and perfect stage of development. Upon finding the perfect fig, the female wasp enters through a tiny hole at the top of the syconium, losing her wings and antennae in the process. She will not need them again, on a one way journey to lay her eggs and die. The male wasps make a similar sacrifice. The first to hatch, they are wingless, only intended to mate with the females and chew out an exit before dying. The females, loaded with eggs and pollen, emerge from the fig and continue the cycle.

The life cycle of the fig wasp.
(U.S. Forest Service, Illustration by Simon van Noort, Iziko Museum of Cape Town) 

The mutualistic relationship between the fig and its wasp is critical to its role as a keystone resource. As each wasp must reproduce additional fig species in the forest at different stages of development, there remains a constant supply of figs for the rainforest.

However, climate change threatens these wasps and their figs. Studies have shown that in higher temperatures, fig wasps live shorter lives which makes it more difficult for them to travel the long distances needed to reach the trees they pollinate. One study found that the suboptimal temperatures even shifted the competitive balance to favor non-pollinating wasps rather than the typically dominant pollinators. 

Another critical threat to figs across the globe is deforestation, in its destruction of habitat and exacerbation of climate change. In Australia, this threat looms large. Is it the only developed nation listed in a 2021 World Wildlife Fund study on deforestation hotspots, with Queensland as the epicenter of forest loss. Further, a study published earlier this year in Conservation Biology concluded that in failing to comply with environmental law, Australia has fallen short on international deforestation commitments. Fortunately, the strangler figs I fell in love with in the Daintree are protected as part of a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1988 and Indigenous Protected Area in 2013.

Stewards of the Rainforest

The Daintree Rainforest has been home to the Eastern Kuku Yalanji people for more than 50,000 years. Aboriginal Australians with a deep cultural and spiritual connection to the land, the Eastern Kuku Yalanji have been fighting to reclaim their ancestral territory since European colonization in the 18th century. Only in 2021 did the Australian government formally return more than 160,000 hectares to the land’s original custodians. The Queensland government and the Eastern Kuku Yalanji now jointly manage the Daintree, Ngalba Bulal, Kalkajaka, and Hope Islands parks with the intention for the Eastern Kuku Yalanji to eventually be the sole stewards. 

Rooted in an understanding of the land as kin, the Eastern Kuku Yalanji people are collaborating with environmental charities like Rainforest Rescue and Climate Force to repair what’s been lost, reforesting hundreds of acres and creating a wildlife corridor between the Daintree Rainforest and the Great Barrier Reef. The corridor aims to regenerate a portion of the rainforest that was cleared in the 1950s for agriculture.

Upon returning to Cairns from the rainforest, we set sail and marveled at the Great Barrier Reef. My memories of the Daintree’s deep greens mingled with the underwater rainbow of the reef. At the Cairns Art Gallery the next day, a solo exhibition of artist Maharlina Gorospe-Lockie’s work, Once Was, visualized this amalgamation of colors in my mind. Gorospe-Lockie’s imagined tropical coastal landscapes draw from her work on coastal zone management in the Philippines and challenge viewers to consider the changes in our natural environment.

Maharlina Gorospe-Lockie, Everything Will Be Fine #1 2023
From the solo exhibition Once Was at the Cairns Art Gallery. (photo by author).

On the final day wrapping our fig in New York, I lean on a ladder above the canopy of our community garden and in the understory of the urban jungle. Visitors filter in and out, often stopping to ask what we’re up to. Some offer condolences for the garden and our beloved fig, at risk of eviction in February. We share stories of the burlap tree and look forward to the day we unwrap its branches.

The parallel lives of these figs cross paths only in my mind, and now yours. Perhaps also in the fig on your plate or the tree soon to be planted around the corner.


Jane Olsen is a writer committed to climate justice. Born and raised in New York City, she is driven to make cities more livable, green and just. She is also passionate about the power of storytelling to evoke change and build community. This fuels her love for writing, as does a desire to convey and inspire biophilia. Jane earned her BA in English with a Creative Writing concentration and a minor in Government and Legal Studies from Bowdoin College.


Sources and Further Reading:

Featured Creature: ‘Ōhi’a Lehua

What tree has adapted to grow directly in lava rock and is a keystone species of the Hawaiian watershed?

‘Ōhi’a Lehua (Metrosideros polymorpha)!

Image Credit: Kevin Faccenda via iNaturalist 

The first time I saw the vibrant blossoms of the ‘ōhi’a lehua tree, I was walking on a dirt path in Kauai’s Waimea Canyon State Park, gaping down at the most colorful red and green gorges I had ever seen. Needing a breather from the steep visual plunge, I looked up from the canyon and noticed bright red flowers on the side of the path. As I got closer and could see the plant more clearly, the first thought that popped into my head was how similar the flowers looked to those fiber optic light toys I had played with as a kid. (If you don’t know what fiber optic light toys look like, look them up. You’ll see exactly what I mean.) 

After my trip to Waimea Canyon, I saw ‘ōhi’a lehua everywhere. When I drove along the coast between the beach and the sloping mountains, when I hiked the volcanic craters of Haleakala, and when I visited parks and gardens across the islands that protect native plants and animals. ‘Ōhi’a lehua is the most common native tree in Hawaii, so seeing its fiery red, orange, or yellow blossoms every day felt so very ordinary. But ‘ōhi’a lehua is far from ordinary.

Let Me Introduce You to My New Friend, ‘Ōhia Lehua

Endemic to the six largest islands of Hawaii, ‘ōhi’a lehua is the dominant tree species in native forests, present in approximately 80% of the total area of these ecosystems and covering close to one million acres of land across the state. Depending on where exactly it grows, its size can vary widely, from a small shrub to a large tree. Found only in the Hawaiian archipelago, ‘ōhi’a lehua grows at elevations from sea level to higher than 9000 feet, and in a variety of habitats like shrublands, mesic forests (forests that receive a moderate amount of moisture throughout the year), and more wet, or hydric, forests.

You can easily identify the ‘ōhi’a lehua blossoms by their mass of stamens – the part of the flower that produces pollen – which are slender stalks with pollen-bearing anthers on the end. It’s what made me think the ‘ōhi’a lehua looked exactly like those fiber optic light toys. These powder puff-like flowers are most often brilliant shades of red and orange, but yellow, pink, and sometimes even white ones can be found.

‘Ōhi’a lehua grows slowly, reaching up to 20-25 meters (66-82 feet) in certain conditions.

With a little help from the wind, the seeds of ‘ōhi’a lehua travel from the tree and settle in cracks in the ground of young lava rock. It is, in every sense, a true pioneer plant. As one of the earliest plants to colonize and grow in fresh lava fields, ‘ōhi’a lehua stabilizes the soil and makes it more habitable for other species.

Even though ‘ōhi’a lehua can blanket Hawaii’s native forests, this flowering tree also grows alone, as you can see in the photograph below. Plants like ‘ōhi’a lehua fill me with happiness because they are able to grow in the most harsh, barren, and disrupted places, and they make it possible for other species to do the same. Plants like ‘ōhi’a lehua fill me with surety that even though sometimes poorly treated, the natural world will continue to be strong. Plants like ‘ōhi’a lehua make me believe in the resilience of nature.

Arid, rocky, Mediterranean coast. (Via Pexels)

How ‘Ōhi’a Lehua Cares for the Hawaiian People

Biodiversity forms the web of life we depend on for so many things – food, water, medicine, a stable climate, and more. But this connection between human beings and natural life is not always clear, understood, or appreciated. But there is a concept in Hawaiian culture called aloha ‘āina, or love of the land, which teaches that if you take care of the land, it will take care of you. The ‘ōhi’a lehua in particular takes care of the Hawaiian people in a pretty special way. 

One of the most important characteristics of this flowering evergreen tree is that it’s a keystone species, protecting the Hawaiian watershed and conserving a great amount of water. The way I see it, ‘Ōhi’a lehua is an essential glue that holds Hawaii’s native ecosystems together. The leaves of ‘ōhi’a lehua are excellent at catching fog, mist, and rain, replenishing the islands’ aquifers and providing drinking and irrigation water for Hawaiian communities. ‘Ōhi’a lehua’s ability to retain water, particularly after storms, not only makes that water accessible for other plants, but it helps mitigate erosion and flooding. The tree provides food and shelter for native insects, rare native tree snails (kāhuli), and native and endangered birds like the Hawaiian honeycreepers (‘i’iwi, ‘apapane, and ‘ākepa). ‘Ōhi’a lehua trunks protect native seedlings and act as nurse logs, providing new plants with nutrients and a growing environment.

‘I’iwi, the Scarlet Hawaiian Honeycreeper, perched on an ‘ohi’a tree (Image Credit: Nick Volpe)

The Myth of ‘Ōhi’a Lehua

‘Ōhi’a lehua may have a disproportionately large effect on Hawaii’s ecosystems as a keystone species, but its presence as a meaningful part of Hawaiian culture could be even larger. There are many versions of mo’olelo (story) about the origin of the ‘ōhi’a lehua tree, but the most common one is about young lovers named Ōhi’a and Lehua. Pele, the goddess of the volcano, changed herself into a human woman and tried to entice ‘Ōhi’a. When he denied her, Pele became enraged and transformed ‘Ōhi’a into a tree. When Lehua found out, she was so heartbroken that she prayed to the gods to somehow help her reunite with him. Answering her prayers, the gods transformed Lehua into a flower and placed her on the ‘ōhi’a tree’s limbs. To this day, it’s believed that whenever a lehua flower is picked, the skies will open up and rain will fall, because the lovers have been separated.

‘Ōhi’a Lehua as a Cultural Symbol

In Hawaiian culture, the ‘ōhi’a lehua is a symbol of love, resilience, and ecological harmony. The transformation of Ohia and Lehua into tree and flower represents the inseparable bond between two people who love each other, and between the tree and its flowers. The term pua lehua, or lehua flowers, is often used to describe people who express the same grace, strength, and resilience of the ‘ōhi’a lehua. Pilina, a Hawaiian word that means “connection” or “relationship,” is an important value in Hawaiian culture because it is a critical way for people to connect with and understand the world around them. The ‘ōhi’a lehua tree is a symbol of pilina, and embodies this relationship between the Hawaiian landscape and its people.

The ‘ōhi’a lehua is also incredibly important to hula. Hula is the narrative dance of the Hawaiian Islands, and it is an embodiment of one’s surroundings. Dancers use fluid and graceful movements to manifest what they see around them and tell stories about the plants, animals, elements, and stars. ‘Ōhi’a lehua trees and forests are considered sacred to both Pele, the goddess of the volcano as you may recall, and Laka, goddess of hula. To enhance their storytelling and evoke the gods, dancers traditionally wear lehua blossoms or buds in lei, headbands, and around their wrists and ankles.

The Dependability of ‘Ōhi’a Lehua 

‘Ōhi’a lehua has long been a part of daily life. Historically, the hardwood of the tree was used for kapa (cloth) beaters, papa ku’i ‘ai (poi pounding boards), dancing sticks and ki’i (statues), weapons, canoes, and in the construction of houses and temples. Today, the tree’s wood is used for flooring, furniture, fencing, decoration, carving, and firewood. ‘Ōhi’a lehua blossoms decorate altars for cultural ceremonies and practices. Flowers, buds, seeds, and leaves form the base of medicinal teas that can stimulate appetite and treat childbirth pain.

Threats to ‘Ōhi’a Lehua

As a native tree, ‘ōhi’a lehua competes with invasive species for moisture, nutrients, light, and space. Plants like the strawberry guava plant (Psidium cattleyanum) grow in dense thickets and block the growth of ‘ōhi’a seedlings. The invasive fountain grass (Pennisetum setaceum) can dominate barren lava flows, making it difficult for ‘ōhi’a to compete. ‘Ōhi’a lehua is also threatened by non-native animals. Hooved animals like pigs, cattle, goats, and deer disturb the soil, eat sensitive native plants, and trample the roots of ‘ōhi’a lehua trees.

The most dangerous threat to ‘ōhi’a lehua is a virulent fungus called Ceratocystis fimbriate, which attacks the tree’s sapwood, preventing it from uptaking water and nutrients, and killing the tree within weeks. It’s been given the name Rapid Ohia Death (ROD) because of how quickly it suffocates the tree, turning the leaves yellow and brown and the sapwood black with fungus. Infections spread through a wound in the bark, which can be caused by animals trampling roots, lawn mowing, or even pruning, and can be present in the tree for up to a year before showing symptoms. ROD is spread by an invasive species of wood boring Ambrosia beetle that infests the tree and feeds off the fungus. When colonizing trees, the beetle produces a sawdust-like substance made of excrement and wood particles called frass, which can contain living fungal spores that get carried in wind currents and spread by sticking to animals and human clothes, tools, and vehicles. 

Since its discovery in 2014, ROD has killed more than one million ‘ōhi’a lehua trees across 270,000 acres of land, making it a significant threat to biodiversity and cultural heritage. The International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) classifies ‘ōhi’a lehua’s conservation status as vulnerable, and has recorded a decline in mature trees since 2020. Because ROD can spread long distances, it has the potential to wipe out ‘ōhi’a lehua across the entire state. If ‘ōhi’a lehua disappears, it will lead to a collapse of the Hawaiian watershed and radically change the ecosystem.

How the Hawaiian People Care for ‘Ōhi’a Lehua

Scientists, researchers, and native Hawaiians are working together to ensure the long-term health and resilience of ‘ōhi’a and Hawaii’s native forests by mitigating the spread of Rapid Ohia Death. Hawaii’s Forest Service monitors the land to track the spread of ROD and mortality of trees, has developed sanitation and wound-sealing treatments, and collaborates with hunters and game managers to reduce disease transmission. Scientists rigorously test ‘ōhi’a trees to understand the disease cycle, find out how it can be broken, and to identify trees resistant to the infection that could be used in potential reforestation efforts. 

To prevent the spread, Hawaii has announced quarantine restrictions, travel alerts, and sanitation rules. If you are shipping vehicles between islands, you should clean the entire understory with strong soap to remove all mud and dirt from the tires and wheel wells. People who go into ‘ōhi’a forests are advised to avoid breaking branches or moving wood around, to clean their shoes and clothes, and to decontaminate any tools used with alcohol or bleach to kill the fungus. Even hula practitioners are forgoing the use of ‘ōhi’a lehua.

Orange ‘ōhi’a lehua blossom (Image Credit: Joan Wasser via National Park Service)

Mālama the ‘āina

Mālama the ‘āina is a phrase that means to care for and honor the land. ‘Ōhi’a lehua is a wonderful representation of the interconnection between people and nature and I hope learning about this beautiful tree has encouraged you to appreciate the relationship we have with the Earth and what the natural world does for us. 

Remember, if you take care of the land, it will take care of you.

Abigail


Abigail Gipson is an environmental advocate with a bachelor’s degree in humanitarian studies from Fordham University. Working to protect the natural world and its inhabitants, Abigail is specifically interested in environmental protection, ecosystem-based adaptation, and the intersection of climate change with human rights and animal welfare. She loves autumn, reading, and gardening.


Sources and Further Reading:

Featured Creature: Aardvark

What unique animal could be a cross between a rabbit, a pig, an opossum, and an anteater?

The aardvark!

Photo by Kelly Abram from iNaturalist

Meet the aardvark – a one-of-a-kind mammal native only to sub-Saharan Africa.

The aardvark has an unusual hodge-podge mix of features including rabbit-like ears, a pig-like snout, an opossum-like tail, and a long, sticky anteater-like tongue. This creature has large and formidable claws used for digging and defense. Weighing in at 115 – 180 pounds, the aardvark is much heftier than it looks. 

Aardvarks inhabit the savannas, arid grasslands, and bushlands of sub-Saharan Africa where there is plenty of their favorite prey, ants and termites. They are solitary and do not socialize with others unless for mating or raising young. They live for about 18 years in the wild and approximately 25 years in captivity.

The aardvark is famous for being the first noun in the English dictionary. The animal goes by many names including Cape anteater and ant bear, but its colloquial moniker, aardvark, is Afrikaans for “earth pig”.

Photo by Louise Joubert from Wikimedia Commons

Odd Relatives

Although the aardvark is an eater of ants, it is not an anteater. Understandably, the comparison comes from its similar appearance and nearly identical diet to the anteater, which leads people to assume they are the same animal. However, the aardvark is its own species entirely, and in fact, it is more closely related to elephants than to anteaters. 

Unique Diet

Aardvarks are insectivores that eat ants and termites. They use their keen sense of smell to locate ant nests and termite mounds over great distances. Aardvarks have the highest number of olfactory turbinate bones of any mammal on the planet. An aardvark has about 9 -11 of these specialized bones which help support the olfactory bulb in the brain, where smells are processed. This larger-than-average olfactory system allows the aardvark to track such tiny creatures like ants and termites from far away. They have been observed swinging their heads back and forth close to the ground, much like a metal detector, to pick up a scent. 

Once an aardvark locates a termite mound, it uses its claws to break open the cement-hard structure. Its tongue, coated in sticky saliva, slurps up the exposed insects in seconds. The highly adapted tongue of an aardvark can be up to 1 foot long. Over the course of a night, a single aardvark eats over 45,000 termites. Amazingly, all of this is done without chewing. 

While aardvarks are classified as insectivores, they make one exception in their diet for a very unique fruit, the aardvark cucumber. This African melon looks similar to a cantaloupe but is grown completely underground. Aardvarks easily dig up the fruit and eat its watery, seed-filled interior. Once the fruit is digested, the seeds are dispersed by the aardvarks that cover their dung in dirt, effectively planting these seeds in the soil with a natural fertilizer. This symbiotic relationship helps propagate the aardvark cucumber, whose existence is entirely dependent upon the aardvark.

Photo by Nick Helme from Wikimedia Commons

Cultural Significance

The aardvark is regarded as a symbol of resilience in some African cultures due to its unrelenting bravery in tearing down termite mounds. The aardvark has very thick skin which helps avoid injury from hundreds of termite and ant bites. Because of their nocturnal habits and solitary nature, aardvarks are not a common sight during the day. It is said that anyone who is lucky enough to see one is blessed. 

Earth Engineer

Aardvarks are adept earth-movers known to create specialized burrows to live in. These burrows provide shelter away from the sun and from predators. Its powerful claws are specially adapted to move massive amounts of dirt in minutes, which helps the aardvark excavate multiple chambers within the den.  

Some burrows can be up to 10 feet deep and over 20 feet long. There are multiple entrances to the same burrow so the aardvark has a chance to escape if a predator poses a threat. Aardvarks have been observed to be very cautious creatures and practice an unusual ritual before exiting their abode. The aardvark stands at the edge of its burrow and uses its excellent sense of smell to detect any nearby predators. It listens for danger and emerges slowly. The aardvark then jumps a few times, pauses, and heads out for the night. Because aardvarks are primarily nocturnal, they don’t have much need for vivid sight and are colorblind. Their long ears and nose do the seeing for them. 

The physiology of these soil architects may strike some as strange, but it serves a purpose. The odd, arched silhouette of the aardvark is caused by its hind legs being longer than its front, which gives them a stronger stance when digging. This adaptation, combined with their formidable claws and muscular forelimbs, allows the aardvark to dig a hole 2-feet deep in just 30 seconds – much faster than a human with a shovel.

Photo by Louise Jobert from Wikimedia Commons

Ecological Importance

When aardvarks have depleted most of their territory’s termite mounds or ant nests, they must move on to new hunting grounds. Their abandoned burrows don’t stay empty for long and are occupied by a variety of species. Hyenas, wilddogs, warthogs, civets, and porcupines make their homes in aardvark burrows. The aardvark has an incredible impact on its environment by sculpting the very landscape itself and providing shelter for other creatures.

If you want to learn more about how aardvark burrows support other animals, check out this article documenting the one of the first observations of predators and prey cohabitating in the same burrow.

Burrowing away now,
Joely


Joely Hart is a wildlife enthusiast writing to inspire curiosity about Earth’s creatures. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in creative writing from the University of Central Florida and has a special interest in obscure, lesser-known species.


Sources and Further Reading:
https://www.miamiherald.com/news/nation-world/world/article274890346.html
https://www.thoughtco.com/10-facts-about-aardvarks-4129429
https://a-z-animals.com/animals/aardvark/
https://animalia.bio/aardvark#facts
https://www.britannica.com/animal/aardvark
https://carnegiemnh.org/a-is-for-aardvark/
https://nationalmuseumpublications.co.za/aardvarks-orycteropus-afer-and-their-symbolism-in-african-culture/

Featured Creature: Prairie Dog

Have you ever heard of a squirrel that barks?

Let me introduce you to the Prairie Dog. 

Sometimes, when walking alone in the high grasslands of the Western United States, you may feel as if you are being watched. 

My first encounter with prairie dogs in the wild occurred as I stood in an empty prairie just outside of Badlands National Park in South Dakota. As I meandered along, minding my own business, dozens of furry creatures with beady little eyes appeared, propped themselves up on their hind legs, and began to follow my every step. Prairie dogs are adorable, it is true, but when you see a dozen spread out, standing upright, watching you intently, it can be a bit disconcerting.

They were, however, no threat, and weren’t eyeballing me just to judge me. A prairie dog standing on his hind legs – “periscoping” as it is known – is simply keeping watch for predators. And their distinctive bark? It may sound like “yip,” but it is actually a sophisticated language developed over thousands of years that is still not fully understood by scientists. 

Prairie dog barks convey everything about a predator’s size, speed, and location. According to a study at the University of Northern Arizona led by Con Slobodchikoff, Ph.D (see video linked below) pitch, speed, and timbre were all altered in a consistent manner corresponding to the species of predator and the characteristics of each. Certain “yips” could even be interpreted to represent nouns (the threat is “human”), verbs (the “human” is moving toward us), and adjectives (the “human” is wearing an ugly yellow shirt). So now that I think about it, I guess they were judging me, and I am not sure how I feel about that. But still, those are some impressive squirrels.

Wait, did you say squirrels?

Yes.

Squirrels. From the Sciuridae family. Prairie dogs are marmots (or ground squirrels) that bark like a dog, prompting Lewis and Clark to label them “barking squirrels,” which may lack points for creativity but is at least more accurate than calling them “dogs.” Prairie dogs, in fact, have no connection to dogs whatsoever.

Amaury Laporte (CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

There are five major species of prairie dog, who all live in North America at elevations between 2,000 and 10,000 feet. The Black-Tailed prairie dog covers the largest territory, filling an extensive region from Montana to Texas. Gunnison’s prairie dogs occupy the southwest near the Four Corners region. White-Tailed prairie dogs reside in Wyoming, Utah, and Colorado. Mexican and Utah prairie dogs belong to Mexico and Utah, respectively, and both are considered endangered.

As you may have observed, prairie dogs live in areas prone to harsh extremes of weather. To protect themselves, they dig extensive burrow networks with multiple entrances, designed to create ventilation, route flood water into empty chambers deep underground, and keep watch for predators. Their burrows connect underground, organized into sections called “coteries,” each of which contains a single-family unit responsible for the maintenance and protection of their area. Multiple coteries become “towns” of startling size and complexity. According to the National Park Service, the largest prairie dog town on record covered 25,000 square miles, bigger than the state of West Virginia!

That IS an impressive squirrel.

Indeed.

Amaury Laporte (CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

Over the years, however, the prairie dog’s range has shrunk, scientists estimate, by as much as 99%, largely because of agriculture. Farmers and ranchers tend to regard prairie dogs as a nuisance, as they sometimes eat crops (they are mostly herbivores) and their holes create a hazard for livestock. They will bulldoze their towns or conduct contest kills to remove them, which has had devastating impacts.

Experts consider prairie dogs to be a keystone species. Their loss affects hundreds of other species who rely on them for food or use their burrows for shelter. They are instrumental in recharging groundwater, regulating soil erosion, and maintaining the soil’s level of production. Prairie dog decline, in fact, eventually leads to desertification of grassland environments.

So, an impressive AND important squirrel?

Yes, and the restoration of prairie dog habitats could be a crucial step in mitigating the effects of climate change.

If you’ve caught prairie dog fever, dive deeper into the resources below. And to learn more about Prairie Dog language, check out this fascinating video:

Hoping one day to converse with my personal prairie dog army,

Mike


Mike Conway is a part-time freelance writer who lives with his wife, kids, and dog Smudge (pictured) in Northern Virginia. 


Sources:
https://animals.net/prairie-dog/
Prairie dog – Wikipedia
https://www.humanesociety.org/resources/what-do-about-prairie-dogs
Prairie Dog Decline Reduces the Supply of Ecosystem Services and Leads to Desertification of Semiarid Grasslands | PLOS ONE
Prairie Dogs | National Geographic
Prairie Dogs: Pipsqueaks of the Prairie (U.S. National Park Service) (nps.gov)

Featured Creature: Beaver

Photo by Derek Otway on Unsplash

Which creature fights fires, creates wetlands, recharges groundwater, alters landscapes, and is a climate hero?

Beavers!

Photo by Derek Otway on Unsplash

At Bio4Climate, we LOVE beavers. We’re borderline obsessed with them (or maybe not so borderline) because they do SO much for Earth’s ecosystems, natural cycles, and biodiversity. These furry, water-loving creatures are finally beginning to receive the recognition they deserve in mainstream media now that more people see how their existence and behaviors lead to numerous benefits for everyone’s climate resilience.

We are one of the many organizations advocating for their reintroduction across North America and some places in Europe. For this reason, when I spotted one on a hike during my time in Tennessee, I did what any Bio4Climate team member would do: jump in excitement, yell out “Oh my gosh it’s a BEAVER!” and take a picture that I’ll treasure forever.

Photo by Tania Roa

The rockin’ rodent

Beavers live in family groups of up to eight members. Offspring stay with their parents for up to two years, meanwhile helping with newborns, food gathering, and dam building. To create dams, beavers use their large teeth to cut down trees and lug over branches, rocks, and mud until they successfully slow down the flow of water. These dams include lodges that beavers use as bedrooms and to escape from predators. Dams are designed according to the water’s speed: in steady water, the dam is built straight across, and in rushing water the dam is built with a curve. These engineers build their dams in a way that makes them nearly indestructible against storms, fires, and floods.

Look at those bright orange teeth! The color is thanks to an iron-rich protective coating. Beaver teeth grow continuously, and require gnawing on trees for trimming.

Photo by Denitsa Kireva: Pexels
Photo by tvvoodoo on Freeimages.com

Furry firefighters

Beaver dams are what make these rodents, the largest ones in North America, so special. When dams alter the flow of water, they create ponds that stretch out a river into a wide wetland. These ponds filter pollutants and store nutrients that then attract a variety of wildlife including fish seeking nurseries, amphibians looking for shelter, and mammals and birds searching for food and water sources.

The abundance of wildlife and the storage of necessary nutrients in beaver ponds classifies these places as biodiversity hotspots, meaning they are “biogeographic regions with significant levels of biodiversity that are threatened by human habitation” (Wikipedia). Beaver ponds also store sediment, and this helps recharge groundwater. Due to the sheer wetness of these ponds, and how deep the water filters into the soil, fires are often extinguished as soon as they reach a beaver pond. In this way, beavers are nature’s firefighters, of which we need many more in areas where extreme heat is increasing.

“There’s a beaver for that”
Ben Goldfarb

  • Wetland Creation
  • Biodiversity Support
  • Water Filtration
  • Erosion Control
  • Wildlife Habitat
  • Flood Management
  • Drought Resilience
  • Forest Fire Prevention
  • Carbon Sequestration
  • They’re Cool (pun intended)

Beavers are considered ‘ecosystem engineers’ because they actively shift the landscape by fluctuating the flow of water and the placement of plants and trees. Muskrats, minks, and river otters also find refuge in beaver lodges. When beavers take down trees, they create pockets of refuge for insects. Using their constructive talents, beavers significantly modify the region and, in turn, create much-needed habitat for many. Numerous creatures rely on beaver dams for survival, and the local ecosystem dramatically changes when a beaver family is exterminated; for these reasons, we also consider them ‘keystone species.’

Disliked dam builders

Despite the positive impact beavers have on biodiversity and ecosystems, we humans have viewed them as fur, pests, and perfume. By 1900, beavers went nearly extinct across Europe and North America. We hunted them for their fur in response to fashion trends, and trapped them for their anal musk glands, or castors, which produce castoreum, a secretion that beavers use to mark their homes and that humans use to make perfume. When beaver populations plummeted, so did the number of dams and ponds, meaning vast swaths of land were drastically altered during this time – and not for the better. To this day, we kill beavers when they wander into military bases or near urban areas since we see their dam-building behaviors as potentially damaging to man-made properties.

Thankfully, as more ‘Beaver Believers’ speak out against these practices and more authorities recognize the importance of beaver benefits, these rodents are beginning to return to their original homes. California recently passed a program specifically for beaver reintroduction efforts across the state. Washington, Utah, and Massachusetts are other states witnessing the return of beavers. People like Skip Lisle of Beaver Deceivers are designing culverts that prevent beaver dams from damaging infrastructure, but allow the beavers to create their biodiverse-filled ponds. These are just a few examples of the ways we can coexist with beavers, and in turn heal our communities.

Beaver Dam on Gurnsey Creek commons.wikimedia.org

Climate heroes

There are places in North America where water sources are decreasing for all living things, and in other regions the amount of rainfall is increasing while the amount of snow is decreasing. These weather conditions are detrimental to all of our health, unless we welcome back beavers.

As the effects of climate change and biodiversity loss increase, storing water, preventing runoff and erosion, and protecting biodiverse hotspots become more important by the hour. By restoring local water cycles, beaver ponds provide a source of life. By spreading water channels and creating new ones, beaver dams prevent flooding and stave off wildfires. By encouraging the cycling and storage of nutrients, beaver ponds nurture soil health and that leads to carbon sequestration. We all have something to gain from beavers as long as we allow them to do what they do best: build those dams.

To learn more about beavers, watch the video below and the two in the ‘Sources’ section. We also highly recommend Ben Goldfarb’s Eager: The Surprising Secret Life of Beavers and Why They Matter for further reading.

For all creatures that deserve a feature,

By Tania Roa


Sources:
Why BEAVERS Are The Smartest Thing In Fur Pants
Why beavers matter as the planet heats up 
9 Amazing Beaver Facts
Environmental Benefits of Beavers – King County 
8 Facts to Celebrate International Beaver Day | Smithsonian’s National Zoo 

Featured Creature: Giant Kelp

Group of California sea lions (Zalophus californianus) swimming in kelp forest (Macrocystis pyrifera), California, USA. Pacific ocean. Inside the Tide" by Royal Botanic Garden Sydney is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Which creature creates forests underwater, provides food and shelter for countless species, and helps stabilize the climate?

Giant Kelp!

Daderot, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

Under the sea

To witness the beauty of kelp, and watch how it contributes to the survival of numerous marine and terrestrial creatures, you have to go underwater. Although kelp looks like a plant, it is actually a type of algae and is part of the kingdom Protista. Most creatures in this kingdom are single-celled organisms, but Giant Kelp has complex cells and is the largest protist.

Giant Kelp reside in cold, clear, nutrient-rich waters. Unlike plants, they lack roots, so they attach themselves to hard, rocky seafloors. Along their ‘branches,’ they have sacs filled with gas that allow them to grow upright, and they can reach heights of more than 100 feet (30 meters). They truly are giant! Once they grow tall enough to reach the sea’s surface, they begin to grow sideways – extending their reach. 

Another side effect of not having roots is the inability to get nutrients from underground. Luckily for kelp, they get all the nutrients they need from the sea water surrounding them. They do, however, act like plants when it comes to photosynthesis. Giant Kelp utilize the sun’s energy rather than feeding on other creatures (I suppose even protists can decide when they want to be plant-like).

School of anchovies and various rockfish and other kelp forest species
in an exhibit at Monterey Bay Aquarium, taken in 2016
Rhinopias, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

The rainforests of the ocean

Giant Kelp will grow in bunches where conditions are right, such as the west coast of North- America, forming underwater forests. These forests provide food and shelter for thousands of animals including sharks and bony fishes, invertebrates such as lobsters and squids, marine mammals such as seals and sea otters, and birds such as cormorants and snowy egrets. In turn, all of these animals help maintain balance in this ecosystem, as exemplified by sea otters who eat sea urchins – a notorious kelp eater. The sheer amount of biodiversity held within kelp forests has earned the algae its nickname, “rainforest of the ocean.”

Kelps feed creatures far away from their underwater forests as well. When pieces of the algae detach and end up on beaches, coastal-living animals take advantage of its many nutrients. Decomposing kelp finds its way to the bottom of the deep sea where creatures surrounded by darkness welcome the newfound treasure.

Animals also love Giant Kelp’s thick blades that provide a barrier between them and predators. This barrier comes in handy when storms occur, too, as they decrease the intensity of incoming waves and currents. In other words, without kelps, millions of individuals would suffer – including us humans. 

Group of California sea lions (Zalophus californianus) swimming in
kelp forest (Macrocystis pyrifera), California, USA. Pacific ocean.
Inside the Tide” by Royal Botanic Garden Sydney CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Delicious algae

Many people have taken to kelp farming to restore coastal waters, and to harvest the many benefits Giant Kelp has to offer. We can eat kelp outright, or use it to create materials that go into a variety of products – from soaps and glass to toothpaste and ice cream (yum!).

In food products you normally wouldn’t find kelp, the algae is intentionally added for its many vitamins and minerals including iron, phosphorus, calcium, potassium, amino acids. Kelp can even be taken as a vitamin supplement, or added to other vitamins for an extra boost. Although you may not be used to kelp-based soups and other dishes, you may want to learn some new recipes to get all these amazing benefits!

Our fellow ecorestorer

There’s a second reason Giant Kelp forests are considered ‘rainforests of the ocean’ – they help sequester carbon. Since kelp can photosynthesize, they are one of the many species converting carbon into oxygen. Often this job is assigned to the plant kingdom, but as we know, kelp like to partake in some aspects of the plant party. The formation of oxygen also helps keep the ocean’s pH in balance, and it’s one of the reasons why these underwater forests are a shelter for many. 

As the planet and oceans warm, sequestering carbon is becoming more urgent and more difficult as emissions continue to rise. Thank you, Giant Kelp, for being an ecosystem-making, nutrient-bearing, carbon sequestering all around rockstar! 

To support the important work of kelps, we can adopt sustainable fishing practices that prioritize the health of coastal marine communities. See how one group in the United Kingdom is already taking this on:

For the oceans.

By Tania Roa

Featured Creature: Giant Barrel Sponge

What creature grows tall and sturdy, cleans up its neighborhood, and defends itself from predators – all without moving a muscle?

The Giant Barrel Sponge, or Xestospongia muta!

Photo By Twilight Zone Expedition Team 2007, NOAA-OE – NOAA Photo Library (Public Domain, via Wikimedia Commons)

A Giant Barrel by any other name… 

Giant barrel sponges are aptly named for their shape and great size. They grow over 1 m tall, but only grow an average of about 1.5 cm a year. After all, good things take time! 

Giant barrel sponges come in a range of colors, depending on the presence of the cyanobacteria that they work with in symbiosis. They can be pink, purple, brown, reddish brown, and gray, and tend to be different colors at different depths. 

You may be wondering why this “giant barrel” doesn’t look very much like Spongebob Squarepants, or the sponge you use to clean up in the kitchen. Well sponges, or animals of the phylum Porifera, come in all shapes and sizes, and there is great diversity among the 8,550 species of them. Sponges are quite ancient, with their oldest fossil records dating back 600 million years, so they’ve had time to differentiate and find their own ecological niches.

The giant barrel sponge is known as the “Redwood of the Sea.” The phrase comes from the fact that giant barrel sponges share the tendency for individuals to live long lives, from a few hundred to thousands of years old. In fact, the oldest known giant barrel sponge is over 2000 years old. 

Old age isn’t the only thing they have in common with their counterparts on land. Like the magnificent redwoods, they do wonders to clean up and support the environment around them. Giant barrel sponges can filter up to 50,000 times their own volume in water in a single day. They also provide habitat to several small fish and other invertebrates that can be found living inside or on the surface of the sponge.

Photo by Andre Oortgijs (CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

How does such a giant creature sustain itself?

Although giant barrel sponges are, well, giant, their diet is anything but. These creatures, like many species of whales, sustain their size not by eating very large sources of food, but by eating large volumes of it. Giant barrel sponges are filter feeders, and consume microorganisms from the water around them that they pump through their bodies. The sponges have special cells along their inner cavities called choanocytes, which work to facilitate the movement of water and the capture of food from it.

In their ocean food chain, giant barrel sponges take their place above their symbiotic partners cyanobacteria, and are consumed in turn by macroorganisms like fishes, turtles, and sea urchin. They try to defend themselves by releasing chemicals to repel their predators, but there’s only so much they can do when stuck in one place, waiting to be ingested by so many types of marine life. Like other filter feeders, giant barrel sponges ultimately form an important branch in the transfer of nutrients from very small to much larger life forms.  

They don’t even have tissues, let alone organs, but their simple structure is more than enough to ensure their survival and proliferation. Giant barrel sponges reproduce by spawning, and are one of the few species of sponge that undertake sexual reproduction. Males and females release sperm and egg cells into the ocean synchronously, so that when the time comes, they have a chance of contributing to a fertilized egg that grows into a larva and, after being carried by currents to a new spot of the ocean floor, establishes itself as an independent sponge. 

Check out this short video of the spawning phenomenon:

A valued community member

Giant barrel sponges are native to the oceans of the Americas, found primarily in the Caribbean Sea, and observed as far south as the coasts of Venezuela. 

Due to their filtration capabilities, giant barrel sponges are real assets to the ecosystems they are a part of, but boosting water quality is not the only ecological role they play. As mentioned, many other creatures live in and around the cavernous sponges, and giant barrel sponges are one of the largest organisms in the coral reef environments where they are found. They are thought to help coral anchor to substrate (the mix of mineral, rock, and skeleton that binds reefs together), and themselves make up about 9% of coral reef substrate in certain areas where they are found. By helping in this binding process, giant barrel sponges can play an important role in reef regeneration. 

Though the giant barrel sponge is not currently classified as threatened, like all of us, it is living in vulnerable times, as reef habitats are weakened in warming, acidifying waters. It is susceptible to a disease called Sponge Orange Band disease that afflicts all kinds of sponges. They can also be damaged or killed by human activities that disturb reefs and break sponges off from their surroundings. 

On the flip side, when these great creatures are doing well, they enable the thriving of life all around them. May all of us aspire to say the same.

With one giant smile,
Maya


Maya Dutta is an environmental advocate and ecosystem restorer working to spread understanding on the key role of biodiversity in shaping the climate and the water, carbon, nutrient and energy cycles we rely on. She is passionate about climate change adaptation and mitigation and the ways that community-led ecosystem restoration can fight global climate change while improving the livelihood and equity of human communities. Having grown up in New York City and lived in cities all her life, Maya is interested in creating more natural infrastructure, biodiversity, and access to nature and ecological connection in urban areas.


Sources and Further Reading:
https://animaldiversity.org/accounts/Xestospongia_muta
https://oceana.org/marine-life/corals-and-other-invertebrates/giant-barrel-sponge
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giant_barrel_sponge
https://www.americanoceans.org/species/giant-barrel-sponge
https://oceanservice.noaa.gov/facts/sponge.html