Category Archives: Week 2

Take one, Take two, Take…Seven?

My first experience with field research is something I will never forget. My conservation project will forever be in my memories… all seven revisions, actually. Working up-close with nature allows me to understand the limitations of fieldwork outside of a lab, yet there are wonders here that a lab can never contain. For anyone who wants to do research in ecology, experience in both the lab and field are essential to understanding both these worlds. I thought I had ample experience in the lab that will serve me well in the field, yet I was shocked by how many holes my projects had, but even more astounded by how much I learned from those mistakes.

I entered the forest fully energized with ideas in hand on how to carry them out. Two minutes later I was covered in sweat and felt the first inkling that this conservation project will be more difficult than I had imagined. My focus had always been to look at how anthropogenic effects in once-natural environments will affect wildlife and their behavior. My first project dealt with manmade lights and how it affected nocturnal moths, except I got nothing but tons of mosquitoes, and a cricket. My partner and I spent a day scouting for humming birds to test for effects of noise on feeding, finding none. We ended up spending the afternoon chasing damselflies. The point is, field conservation work is filled with unexpected events that you cannot control for, which is both a pain yet humbling realization. Here I am with nature, poised to use what I have learned in lab to present an experiment that both respects nature’s changing faces while applying the best controls I can devise.

After many insightful revisions, I am excited to carry out a conservation project looking into the effects of foot traffic on leaf-cutter ants. Although small at the individual scale, their collective efforts make them a dramatic component of the rainforest ecosystem. This warrants a look into how our usage of trails can affect their livelihood. My final days in Refugio Bartola will involve a frenzy of experiments from the break of morning to the start of dusk. As I hike up the many hills to my site knowing there is a long return journey later, I am filled with only excitement to know that those hours in between will use the methods we’ve spent so long refining. Looking back I realize how my previous set ups misinterpreted the questions I wanted to test. It took many field trials and a lot of feedback before our project tested the question at hand while staying true to our vision. Overall, every revision taught me far more than any success would have. Conservation field work has given me a greater appreciation for nature and research, combining wonders, challenges, and lessons with every passing day.

Sticks: the Secret to Science

Not having enough questions is not usually my problem – and after a day or two of utilizing the quintessential sampling method known as poking things with a stick, it began to become clear that a head too full of them would be a distraction from gaining traction, much to my dissatisfaction. My investigative companion and I slowly whittled away at the long list of potential problems to attack, both through intense discussion and abject failure in our pilot experiments – underestimating by an order of magnitude or several how many species we would find in the cavities of the buttress trees, or being thwarted by agouti too ungrateful to accept our offers of food/trap bait. We finally realized we’d have to stop beating around the bush and get down to business.

After throwing around a few ideas about agouti foraging for our conservation project, we eventually settled on looking into the foraging preferences of agouti. We’re interested in finding out whether they selectively forage in areas with open or closed understory cover, and whether they choose differently between them depending on the time of day, which is an interesting question for a few reasons. First, we know that they alter their foraging behavior depending on predation pressure, which understory cover may effect – either it could provide protection when it’s thicker, or it may likewise provide cover for potential predators (like the mountain lion we caught on one of our camera traps). There’s some suggestion that they like to feed in open areas, but it doesn’t seem to have been quantified yet. If predation is a factor, then we might expect the difference in preferences between open and closed areas to vary when predation is strongest, in the very early morning and later in the evening after dusk. Anthropogenic factors, such as logging activity, are likely to affect the level of and heterogeneity in cover, so the project is potentially interesting from a conservation point of view as well as from a purely behavioral standpoint. To do this, we’ve set up several sites where agouti have been spotted, in each of which we have a matched pair of open and closed patches with bait and a camera trap. It sounds simple enough, but when you factor in camera malfunction, human error (a nice euphemism for my carelessness), rebaiting, opossum, paca, and spiny rats eating all our fruit, and of course Murphy’s law, it’s actually ended up being a pretty challenging project to maintain.

However, in both projects, even all of the failures we’re experiencing aren’t all that bad. I was once told that reading papers, it can seem that every research project is a perfectly executed sequence, but that failure is one of the most important steps to reaching a better answer and finding the right methods. Like every bit of wisdom you get, it’s just a string of words until it’s illuminated by experience, and I’m starting to appreciate the truth in it. Even with the occasional panics over not being able to answer our questions to the fullest extent in the time we’re here, I’m starting to realize how much I enjoy doing this.

Bee-ing and Staying Positive

Our time in Nicaragua is winding down and fairly soon, I’ll be able to count our days left in the rainforest on both hands. Everything here is so beautiful and unique. From the little intricacies of spider webs to the fascinating dynamics between calling birds, everything has captured my attention. To say that picking one project was difficult would be an understatement. Before leaving for Nicaragua, both Joey (my partner) and I had project ideas of what we might want to focus on. While Joey was far more prepared for our study on epiphytic bromeliad community assemblage, I only knew that I wanted to focus on some sort of animal-plant mutualism like pollination. In our lectures back at UCLA, Dr. Grether mentioned the possibility of working with orchid bees.

Our first couple days in the rainforest were used for exploration, but on our hikes, I would look around at all of the different organisms – overwhelmed, but still hoping to find a bee. When Dr. Grether arrived with the floral and tree oils, Joey and I took them out for a test run. The first few trials were incredibly unsuccessful. We had zero bee sightings. While it was disappointing, I was still convinced that we just needed a few more trials and a little more optimism. When we finally had our first sighting, it was un-bee-lievable. The bee, a medium metallic green morph, came out of the vegetation, buzzing and pausing as it came closer to inspect our scented filter paper. In that moment, I was relieved, amazed, and inspired. I knew that I would stick with this project and I knew that whatever came out of the experience would be incredible.

Over time, our trials have gotten more successful and more informative. As we’ve observed more morphospecies and interactions, I’ve learned so much. Having little previous information about the bees’ bee-hive-ior, our observations really guided the questions and hypotheses that we’ve formulated. At times, it’s been frustrating to observe so many fascinating and subtle behaviors and only focus on a few quantifiable variables. The bees move so fast and their interactions are so numerous. The more we talk amongst ourselves and with our TAs and professors, the clearer our study has become. My experience in creating this project has taught me a lot about realistic expectations, optimism, and patience. At times, it’s been unclear where our behavior project was headed. But when I close my eyes and see the vibrant swarms of orchid bees – sparkling shades of emerald, turquoise, blue, and orange – I know that everything is going to bee alright.

Love, hugs, beans, and rice,

Michelle

So this is science?

The past few weeks have been a very unique experience. This has been the first time I have ever had to design an experiment from scratch, and to make things more challenging, we have been assigned two projects to do. Even before leaving for Nicaragua, I always had a nervous feeling in my stomach whenever I thought about finding a project to do, and when I finally arrived, the feeling only got stronger. There were so many different animals that we saw, but the ones I found particularly interesting were very difficult to find.

The first of the projects my partner Lindsey and I decided on was the strawberry poison frog. We saw many along the trails, and it is honestly very fun to watch and hold. We wanted to design an experiment involving the capture and release of an individual to examine its stress, but despite seeing many frogs the first few days, we could not for the life of us spot any when we specifically looked for them. We turned our attention to hiker noise, which still proved to be difficult because we have to wait for the frogs call. We have gotten very skilled at recognizing its call. Whenever I hear the frog make its sort of quacking call, I just smile and think to myself, “Yup, that’s my frog!” This has been a test of patience so far, but we are getting some good data!

The second project is a bit more… tedious. We are studying the directionality of leaf cutter ants while they are walking on their trails, and in order to test this we are setting blockades to clear a path, moving an ant into that cleared trail, and watching what direction it moves. The setup is actually very fun. We basically spend ten minutes picking up ants and throwing them over a wall. I have never felt more powerful in my life! The actual experiment is very long and tedious, and involves a lot of yelling at ants to run a certain direction. I never thought I would spend an afternoon throwing and yelling at ants, but this is all in the name of science!

When I think of science, I imagine a man in a lab coat looking through a microscope. This experience has shown me so far that science can actually be a very gritty experience. It takes a little getting used to, but I am now fully engulfed in the routine. The data collection phase is in full swing, and I am excited to see our results when we get there!

Our Little Leaf Cutter Ants

Our three weeks here in Nicaragua have been speeding by. With almost a week to go everyone is working harder than ever to complete both projects. I have been waking up for the past week at 5:30 in the morning to have time to do enough work in one day. In the morning, Brigit and I catch 100-120 harvestmen, mark them with paint pens on their abdomen, and move them to new sites for our behavior research project. Our afternoons are devoted to collecting data on our conservation project.

Brigit and I decided to focus on the effects of logging on leaf cutter ants’ nest quality and activity. On the third day in Nicaragua we noticed that the leaf cutter ants were dropping leaves on the outside of their mounds. This was particularly interesting because leaf cutter ants use the leaves they cut to feed an underground fungus garden. The leaf cutter ants then feed on the fungus they grow. We began wondering why they would expend so much energy to climb high into the trees, cut a leaf, and carry it back, just to drop it outside. After fleshing some ideas out with Dr. Shier, we began pondering whether the amount of canopy cover over the ant nests had an influence on this leaf dropping behavior. Much of Refugio Bartola has previously been cultivated and logged. The forest is divided into primary growth forest, where no logging has occurred, and secondary growth, where the forest has begun to grow back from the agricultural stress of past plantations. After noticing more leaves on the outside of secondary growth nests, we became curious about how logging has effected the activity of the leaf cutter ants. After a lot of flagging leaf cutter ant trials and mounds, we began taking data on canopy cover, humidity, temperature, and ant activity at eight sites in primary growth and eight sites in secondary forest. We have already seen a trend of higher temperatures and humidity in secondary growth, which is exciting! We think the cut leaves shielding the nest’s soil could possibly help mitigate the harsher conditions in logged, secondary parts of the forest.

Field research requires so much work, patience, and time, but I’m really starting to enjoy the privilege of working outside everyday. There are definitely times when I am all natured out. For example, I get at least three spines in my hand a day, I have to touch creepy spider-like creatures, and I got stung by a wasp while trekking through the forest in the pitch-black darkness. However, there’s something really rewarding about seeing our little leaf cutter ants and harvestmen everyday waiting for us to learn more about them.

Research is Exhausting, But Worthwhile

Vivien and Callan are serious about data collection!
Vivien and Callan are serious about data collection!

Sloshing through different textures of mud from 6 am to 5:30 pm is beginning to take its toll on me. The hiking in jungle terrain portion is easy and exciting; however, it is the wet uphill and downhill knee-deep mud that literally drags me down. Despite this, I am definitely still enjoying myself. The sounds of toucans and parrots usually carry me along. Daily I am surprised by how much hard work my partner, Vivien, and I accomplish.

We have two projects: one about behavior and the other, conservation. The process for our behavior project took almost six days to develop, mostly because we were overwhelmed with every sound and feeling the jungle emitted. Animals we had hoped to research were not in abundance (Orb spiders for me), so we thought fast on our feet. Dragonflies. Dragonflies were in abundance. But, we knew absolutely nothing about the specific species on the property or basic dragonfly information in general.

Reading through the books provided, we found the species’ name. Without internet, though, we had difficulty developing a research project that was original. But then I came up with a perching site height concept that we evolved into perch site choice in regard to visual cues. We have fixed the methods and are currently in the process with completing trials. This experience has been exceedingly stressful, but I am glad that I am not the only group that feels this way. All groups have feared their projects would fail in some way, but the flexibility with shifting research focus has gotten us over a huge dismal hump.

Our conservation research project is definitely taking off; we are almost finished. We are comparing the water quality of the creeks disturbed by the field school against the undisturbed creeks throughout the forest. We want to see how animals (mostly aquatic) are affected by disturbed areas, especially with regard to human manipulation to the environment like dredging. We simply collect water samples from various portions of creeks and test them. We have seen significant differences in some! It is all very fascinating.

Even though we are all exhausted, working through the night on data entry and planning for the next day, my partner and I have high hopes. We know that we are pursuing our dreams of ecology fieldwork. And I will not stop pursuing it.

Songs of a present paradise

Strolling through the misty rainforest at the break of light, resting for a few minutes every 50 meter-interval to enjoy the songs of a splendid array of tropical birds – a birder’s paradise. I have been fortunate to be able to enjoy every morning for the past 9 days, in an ‘effort’ to collect data for a conservation project that my buddy, Ben, and I are working on. We start each day with a hike to one of six observation sites within Refugio Bartola, where we then traverse a 200 meter transact, pausing for 8 minutes each at 5 points and recording all the birds we hear. This usually lasts for an hour, after which we hike to another site and repeat the same procedure. Following 2 hours of soaking in the serenity of the forest, we return for a treat – Breakfast!

Our project aims to study the diversity of birds and mammals in 3 different areas of the forest. These areas are categorized by their distance from the forest edge. Just as some people love to be at the center of the party while others enjoy the less chaotic atmosphere in the corners, so do the birds and mammals (in a different way of course)! We hope to find how various species occupy different areas of the forest, and how the dynamics changes from the edge to the interior of the forest. This dynamic gradient is crucial to the ecosystem of the forests as a whole, as every organism relies on another, and many are sensitive to changes. This would be an important implication if the Nicaragua canal goes through to completion, as it would create edges in the forest where the interior used to be and change the dynamics around it.

So far, I have definitely been enjoying every part of the process in just retrieving the data. Staying still in the forest brings the animals to us more than actively searching for them. Most of the best moments have happened during these periods of waiting…seeing white-faced Capuchins foraging and grooming on the canopy above us, then having a mommy Agouti with two babies stroll up right to us…the most precious by far is a special encounter with my favorite animal in the world: hearing grunts coming from the shrubs, then seeing the stripes of an ocelot appear, until the cat was in full view of us just 3 meters away. It walked delicately and cautiously, never once hesitant even though it knew full well of our presence, giving us one short glance and continuing on its way back into the shrubs…

So what’s your question?

Coming up with my conservation experiment was a test all on its own. Deciding on a question, figuring out variables, and executing the whole plan is much easier said than done. Being here for only 4 weeks, time has also been another stress factor. The most difficult part, in my opinion, was coming up with a question. Even though I have heard this being said over and over again, it truly does come down to “What is your question?”. Every part of your project centers around what you are trying to ask and sometimes I have gotten so caught up with methodology that I forget to think back and remember what my focus was.

After multiple trial and errors and an infinite amount of assistance from Professor Shier and my TA Rachel, Tinh and I were finally able to come up with a project! We are focusing on group size and the effects they have on the activity of leaf-cutter ant trials. The reason we decided on this topic is because we realize that as ecotourism increases, more and more people will be traveling the trails of natural reserves. Although this is a positive change, the effects of different size groups walking through trails are still unknown.

In order to try and figure out if there are any effects, we will be conducting “walk-through” trials where we simulate different group sizes on different leaf-cutter ant trials and seeing how the activity changes after 30 and 60 minutes.

So far, we have picked out the 10 different colonies we will be testing and ran 20 successful trials. Within the next 3 days, we should be done with this part of the project and hope to move on to the second part of our experiment. In the second part, we will use the baseline information we collected from the first experiment and using it to compare how the frequency of visitation by these different group sizes affect the activity of the trails. With only 9 days left here at Refugio Bartola, pressure is on to get as much data as possible, definitely crunch time!

The Fleeting, the Flying, and the Undescribed

Science is like any great craft in that the amount of effort placed upon the object of desire is proportional to the quality of the yield. Finding my interests through literature and observation was a challenge (but an enjoyable one), but when compared to the difficulties of refining my product, seems trivial. I don’t think I could have ever understood the true complexity of addressing a scientific question regardless of how many papers I wrote or articles I read back at home. While it is easy to confuse my time here with vacation because of how beautiful my surroundings are, I am here for work, to produce something tangible from the fleeting, the flying, and the undescribed.

While the product of my science may be challenging, I have enjoyed every second of it. Coming into the field with only a gardener’s perspective on neotropical flora, I am awestruck by how much there is to learn about the plants here. I came to Nicaragua with the skeleton of an idea surrounding the biological systems supported by the pools of water that collect within bromeliads. I predicted that the link between human presence and community assemblage in these pools would be simple; more people, more selective logging, less diversity. Using local openness and closure of the canopy surrounding the bromeliad as a proxy for logged forest and unlogged forest, our results have been anything but simple. Each time I sample a bromeliad with my partner Michelle, we find untold treasures. And by treasures, I mean worms. And sometimes scorpions… Again, I am really just beginning to understand that nothing is simple in science and very rarely can anyone capture the infinite intricacies of a biological system with a preliminary prediction.

The same can be said for my behavior project on orchid bees. While bromeliads are kind enough to remain stationary during sampling, orchid bees seem spiteful in comparison. Shying away from further anthropomorphic musings, orchid bees are truly the most fascinating thing I’ve seen here. Try to imagine a study species that seems to change size and coloration every time you meet it. The permutations of color are enough to make sitting and observing for 40-50 minutes fly by—some deep sapphire blue, some marrying teal and green, others a rainbow of color (one, with a blue head, orange abdomen, and a green thorax we literally named rainbow). But as before, our research is complicated by the complexity of their behavior. Every trial, which we accomplish by eucalyptus oil lures, shows that these bees have a vast repertoire of behaviors when competing for the oils. Each new behavior we observe, while surprising and intriguing, means we must refine our question further for fear of generalizing the details.

In light of the difficulties, I am in love with my surroundings. I will surely miss digging bromeliad gunk from my nails at the end of the day. Well, maybe not.

Cheers,

Joey

The Other Side of the Paper

I’ve read many scientific papers for class. I’ve searched for them endlessly on Web of Science, a database the UCLA libraries subscribe to. I’ve had to critique them with classmates and discuss how they could be better, how their methods weren’t exactly right, how their sample sizes could be larger or their collected data simply doesn’t answer the question they are asking. But what I’ve never discussed in class, what I had never previously really thought about, was how challenging the entire process of answering a scientific question can be. It is almost surreal being here in Nicaragua and having to come up with a question on my own, creating a set of methods that will answer that question precisely, and carrying out those methods while making sure to collect a large enough set of data. While sitting on the floor of a rainforest moving leaf cutter ants onto a section of trail I’ve cleared of other ants, squished between the fronds of a short palm tree, as it turns dusk and the playful noises of the day begin to sound eerie, I realize how very different an experience it is from reading a paper in the safety of a classroom critiquing what could have been better.

It was definitely difficult coming up with a question I found interesting and then proper methods to follow. There were many observations made, notes taken on random things I saw and where, ideas brought up and decided against. It was exciting then landing on an idea and deciding to stick with it. Although there were then endless obstacles while conducting pilot trials of issues I didn’t previously think about (like the difficulty of picking ants off the trail when most of them are 2 mm long). For my project that is not on leaf cutter ants, I’m studying the effects of hiker group size on strawberry poison dart frog calls. It is a simple concept, recording calls for two and a half minutes, having a group of hikers walk by while talking, and then recording the calls for another two and a half minutes after. What will not be included in the final paper though, is how difficult collecting that data can be. Although I know the frogs do not truly know that we are trying to find and study them, I am convinced they have some ulterior plan and choose to avoid us at all costs. We have wandered the rainforest for hours only to find two strawberry frogs in the midst of calling. We have set up our experimental stage (a 15m pink string laid out on the trail in front of the calling frog) only to wait for an indefinite amount of time before deciding the frog isn’t going to start calling again. And doing all of this while dragging around our very kind classmates that are helping us by being additional hikers for the experimental trials. I’m aware now of how much thought and effort goes into these projects, which I will forever think about while reading the endeavors of others in their published scientific papers.