Science in the City

After getting back to the states, it’s been all but impossible to reflect on the experience of the barcoding work recently undertaken in Australia. The pressure of school and home have left little time to make progress on anything not immediately and practically demanding my attention.

So when a quick trip back to Florida materialized with just a few short day’s notice, I immediately considered the possibility of continuing the seagrass barcoding work begun back in the land of Oz. Most of the time was previously committed, but I managed to negotiate an 80 minute window during a shopping run to jump over a seawall and grab any grass I could find. I parked on a side street, crossed a business park wearing rubber booties and carrying a bucket. I hopped over the seawall and was soon in the familiar mangrove ooze of my home state.

The turbid water did not immediately look promising for seagrass, which is sensitive to reduced light penetration. But after working my way carefully among sprawling mangrove roots, clumps of algae, freestanding oysterbeds and the occasional bonnet head shark, I came to a channnel outlet that led to more open waters. I worked my way a distance along the strand facing the bay before taking a random perpindicular turn into deeper water, seeking groves of grass. Before long, I had some luck, grabbing a handful of long, spindly runners I found. Knowing that such grasses tend to grow in clusters, I charted a widening arc until I found several other such stands. Recalling my work overseas, I was careful to collect large connected segments to yield multiple samples from a single individual. two distinct forms appeared, one long and bolt-y, and the other dense and clumped. I thought I may have chanced upon two species, but had no time to look more closely. It was time to turn back, and hope for the best. the time on the water was wonderful and lonely. Familiar and strange. I was home, applying lessons learned in another hemisphere…using what I’d learned in a new context that was once my home. Standing in the middle of backward, I was heading forward again.