Thursday, March 29, 2012

Lighting up life, part 1: Shiny happy organisms

Even those of us from the sad parts of the U.S. where fireflies are not native know what they are. Magical flying insects blink on and off during summer nights, like feral LEDs. They can be caught and put in jars, or rolled up in your katamari to serve as a study lamp. As we get older, our pubescent understanding of their motivation increases: little dudes are blinking for sex, as who would not?

Fireflies put on the red light 1 using a chemical called luciferin ("light bearer") and a special enzyme that catalyzes its oxidation, luciferase. Each molecule of luciferin can only be used once -- another word for oxidation is burning. Since it takes energy to produce each luciferin molecule, it's a bit of an expensive way to identify yourself to potential mates, but obviously worthwhile for some. And, of course, many humans find it fascinating and even beautiful: minor molecular subsitutions in the luciferin molecule cause large color changes 2, so a given insect species can luminesce red, yellow-green, or blue, and some do more than one at a time.

Sea creatures also do a lot of luminescing, like the now iconic anglerfish when she wants to attract other deep-sea creatures to eat.

Some make their own luminescence like the firefly, while others recruit bacteria. Overall, bioluminescence occurs naturally in animals, fungi, and protists as well as those ubiquitous prokaryotes 3. Something about the plant lifestyle doesn't seem conducive to it; I'm going to guess that would be the complete dependence of almost all plants on high levels of externally applied light.

Plants aren't without the ability to emit photons, though; they just don't make them non-renewably. Fluorescence occurs when a molecule moves into an excited (higher energy) state upon being hit by a photon, then emits another photon to return to its ground (regular amount of energy) state. The major differences from luminescence are that the fluorescing molecule is often fine afterwards -- they wear out eventually, but they're no one-shot luciferin -- and that you need light to make light. The energy return isn't perfectly efficient for reasons I won't go into 4, so the wavelength of the fluoresced photon is longer than that of the photon that hit the molecule originally. So a blue photon exciting a molecule can cause emission of green or yellow or orange photons, or, importantly for plants, it can pass its excitation to another molecule. This is what chlorophyll does all day: collects light energy and passes it along to other molecules that use the energy to make sugars out of carbon dioxide. Plants use the sugars in mitochondria to run their cells 5, just like us, and also for constructing their cell walls so they can grow.

Ideally, then, chlorophyll shouldn't fluoresce, because it's better for the plant to use that energy once it's caught. It's very easy, though, to puree a bunch of leaves and extract the chlorophyll. Once the molecular arrangements of the chloroplast are disrupted, the chlorophyll has no organized protein chain to give the energy to, and you can see its red fluorescence. Floral organs also often fluoresce beautifully, though I hesitate to claim much adaptive significance for that when the reflected UV patterns likely swamp any daylight fluorescence.

Aequorea victoria, sometimes called Aequorea aequorea (Emily, take note!), is a fascinating animal. It's bioluminescent, breaking down a molecule called aequorin in a similar process to luciferin luminescence, but it's also fluorescent. The aequorin-created light is blue, and the blue photons excite Green Fluorescent Protein (GFP) 6, which puts out green photons. This is a lot of ongoing work to do just to glow in a fancy color!


Aequorea victoria, copyright Sierra Blakely, via Wikimedia Commons.
None of the jellyfish structures in this image are luminescing or fluorescing. That's reflected light.
For the green lights, see the left sidebar of this page.

My big question was, why does Aequorea want to appear green so badly? Making all that light is so metabolically taxing that any biologist's first thought should be sex -- unless there are direct fitness boosts from doing it, nothing costly, risky, and convoluted should be selected for. It's surprising, then, that Aequorea's sex life has nothing to do with meeting in person. Oh, and another small detail? They don't have eyes. The only rationale I've heard that makes sense is that, since Aequorea jellies luminesce when disturbed, the light emission is a way to startle potential predators into backing off. The green wavelengths may thus be more surprising in a predominantly blue-lit environment like the ocean.

For more about Aequorea and its relationships with GFP and the media, check out our own Friday Harbor Labs scientist C.E. Mills' page on the matter.

Next time: why GFP is important for molecular biology. -- KMP

[0] The organisms are not necessarily happy when luminescing, actually. Sad advice strongly implied at the Firefly FAQ is to traumatize or kill them so they'll glow consistently for longer when taking photographs.
[1] Yes, some of them glow red, generally South American ones. Mostly I just couldn't resist the "Roxanne" reference.
[2] Gandelman et al. (1993) Oxyluciferin fluorescence is a model of native bioluminescence in the firefly luciferin—luciferase system. Journal of Photochemistry and Photobiology B: Biology 19(3):187–191.
[3] Here's one great survey of bioluminescent organisms, with unfortunately messy html that I attribute to an apparent site move.
[4] Well, if you're that interested. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Electronic_Processes_Involving_Light.png
[5] With oxygen. Yes, really.
[6] Note the super creative naming for which we scientists are known in this paragraph.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Spring break special: ammonites

All kids love ammonites! Apparently including tiny, "delicate" Jurassic lobsters (who may or may not have been sexually mature, we can't tell), who liked to hang out inside ammonite shells. The authors deduce based on the lobsters' body positions that they were in there on purpose -- leading to the wonderful, Dogs-in-Elk-evoking subheading "Decapods in cephalopods" -- but they couldn't tell whether the lobsters were eating yummy dead ammonoid or just found an especially classy burrow to hang out in. (Found via Laelaps.)

Hermit crabs loved ammonite shells, too. Plenty of other [organism] in [organism] goodness here.

Laelaps again: Ammonoid pearls! Sadly there will be no fossilized ammonite-pearl necklaces, since these were the sort of pearl accretions that just result in entombed parasites in the wall of the shell, but that very fact means we can infer coevolution with those parasites over geological time. Lovely.

3D ammonite radula reconstruction (with video!) using an X-ray technique rather than traditional sectioning revealed that the jaws and teeth of the type examined are... pretty wimpy, actually. The original article suggests that the unusual ammonoid jaw assembly is an adaptation to feeding mainly on plankton in the water column.

I don't know of any other animals named after Egyptian gods, unless Hagryphus counts. Plants have at least a couple: Anubias and Serapias.

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Playing with Evolution in a Computer

When we think about the process of evolution, we often imagine the slow changing of birds from dinosaurs, or the domestication of crops. Evolution by natural selection is the driving principle behind all of biology, but it can be tricky to wrap your head around. Random mutation, heritability, fitness, environment, populations, allele frequencies and so on are often murky topics especially for the general public.

Fortunately not all evolutionary processes require hundreds of years to observe. Microbes (like bacteria and virus) often evolve on the order of years, months, even days. With such fast evolving systems, we can observe evolution in real-time. However what would be really awesome would be to witness evolution take place on the order of seconds or minutes. Short of inventing a time-machine, we have only one system to observe evolution happening on such short time scales, digital systems. Using computational systems, we can look at evolution occurring on populations of digital organisms. There are a plethora of such digital evolution models/games/toys freely available on the web. And I wanted to point out some of my favorites.


Evolving Images (Web App)

Mona Lisa after 25 minutes
This web application by Jacob Seidien takes a target image and uses a genetic algorithm to reconstruct the image with a small number of polygons. Organisms in the population consist of the location of 40 colored polygons. Each generation, the organisms with the highest fitness (those whose polygon placement most closely matches the desired picture) are replicated into the next generation with the potential for mutation (changes to the polygon location, shape and/or color). You can watch as the population adapts to more closely match the target image.


Primordial Life (Link to Download)

This alife (artificial life) program allows for organisms consisting of radially-symmetric line segments having different properties. Green lines generate energy (emulating photosynthesis), red lines can 'eat' green lines and thus steal energy, dark blue lines protect against attack by red lines, light blue generate thrust for motility, and white lines allow for the transmission of genetic material. Starting from a random population, you can watch a population evolve. Often you will see the sensitive parts of an organisms (green lines) deep within, protected by blue lines and red lines extended outwards to consume other organisms. With sexual recombination turned on, you can watch the evolution of sexual dimorphism (differentiation between males and females) evolve as females (organisms lacking white lines) growing large, while males (containing white lines) shrinking to be tiny, highly motile genetic carriers. This is very similar to the differences between female and male anglerfish.


Bitozoa 2 (Link to Download)

This programs explores the behavioral evolution of large populations of herbivores and carnivores. Organisms consist of a simple body plan which is controlled by an evolvable neural network. The initial, random population exhibits no directed movement toward food sources or away from predators. But with five minutes of evolution, the populations can demonstrate turning toward things they can consume. After another five minutes, you can observe the herbivores performing evasive maneuvers to avoid predators and predators doggedly pursuing herbivores.


Gene Pool/Swimbots (Link to Download)

In this program, the organisms consist of "swimmers" who need to navigate toward food and mates to propagate. These are highly colorful populations that can evolve a great variety of different swimming strategies. By adjusting how organisms choose their mates (what each organisms finds sexually attractive), you can watch the evolution of speciation and sexual dimorphism. You can also perform breeding experiments by cloning, feeding, hybridizing, and culling unwanted organisms from the population.


All these programs make great screen-savers as the populations therein are continually evolving new, visually-interesting traits. I've always been fascinated by evolution, and hopefully some of the digital evolution programs can help spread that joy to others.

This post was contributed by Josh Nahum, a graduate student studying evolutionary biology in the lab of Dr. Ben Kerr.

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Dammed amphibians

Jared Grummer from the Leaché Lab just submitted a grant for a multi-year project studying amphibian population genetics in the northern Cascades (North Cascades National Park). The proposed study will use high-throughput genomic sequencing technologies to understand what, if any, population-genetic effects have been caused by three dams along the Skagit River. These hydroelectric dams provide the city of Seattle with approximately 25% of our power needs, and have altered the landscape along the river. The study will focus on three amphibian species: coastal tailed frogs (Ascaphus truei), western toads (Anaxyrus boreas), and coastal giant salamanders (Dicamptodon tenebrosus).

Jared will find out in late April whether or not this project receives funding; we have our fingers crossed!

Monday, March 5, 2012

Species species of the Week week #1 OR The Whimsey of Nomenclature

Post previously published at Rah Rah Radula.

I have been told, and I shall not say by whom, that the scientific name (1) for the green sea urchin is the longest currently assigned. Weighing in at 32 letters, I present:

Strongylocentrotus droebachiensis
Ta-da! Oh, to bear the weight of so many syllables! (credit: enature.com)

Now I don't know if this claim is merely intertidal boosterism, but I do know that is a long name and it's not immediately clear how one would know the pronunciation without initiation into a secret society (hint: "STRON-JUH-LO-SEN-TRO-TUS DRO-BAK-EE-EN-SUS").

In addition to being a marine nerd, I'm also a word nerd, and I dig on the etymology of how organisms are named and described by their scientific name, in part because it's both lyrical and logical. Just removed enough from common usage to make you feel like you are gaining insight into the natural world just by knowing the "true" name. Scientists avoid using common names because, Buff-thighed puffley notwithstanding, these names are often vague, and are either shared by several species, or are only one of a list of names for a single species.

However, the Genus species approach, AKA binomial nomenclature, though, perhaps, more precise, still only gives you a false sense of security that you know the true identity of an organism. Scientific names are more dynamic than you would expect, as scientists move species into new genera believed to more accurately reflect their evolutionary history. One of the snails I study is Ocinebrina inornata, but has variously been known as Tritonalia japonica and Ocinebrellus inornatus, and is still identified by the Washington Dept. of Fish and Wildlife as Ceratostoma inornatum(2).

Names are also logical - mostly. True, some are named after people, those who discovered them, those who were/are influential in the field, or those who were important to the scientist in a more personal way. But, more typically, the name tells a story about the organism, what it looks like, where it lives, or what it does. Take the cumbersome sea urchin moniker. According to a similarly word nerdy blogger: Strongylo = round, centrotus = spiky, droebach = Drobak, Norway, where the organism was first described.

Now for the Whimsey...

One of the types of names I am especially tickled by is double genus species names, where the name of the species is the same as the genus. The poster child of double names, of course, is Gorilla gorilla. Come on, say it out loud. It's a little bit whimsical, isn't it?! Imagine applying that to people names. My last name is Grason and my parents joked about naming their firstborn son, my older brother, Grayson, so he would be Grayson Grason (same pronunciation). What would you do if you met Grayson Grason? Then again, maybe you already know folks that do have double names.

This is not at all to make light of someone who might have the same first and last name. In fact, I think of these organisms and people as the "type" specimen, the realized Platonic ideal of its kind, by comparison to which the entire group is defined. Grayson Grason is the Grason-iest Grason. Is Gorilla gorilla the gorilla-est member of the genus Gorilla? Is that really how you spell "Gorilla"? I've now been staring at it too long to tell. Incidentally, according to Wikipedia (I know, my sources are unimpeachable), the name "gorilla" was derived from Greek meaning "tribe of hairy women" – lovely.

 
"Tribe of hairy women"? You decide.

So, what's the deal? Did these folks run out of steam? Well if a new species being named (3) is the only member of a genus, you could imagine it might end up with the same species as genus name. But this isn't always thecase. There are two species in the genus Gorilla for instance, so I would guess that G. gorilla came first. I fully admit, I'm more interested in the names themselves than in speculating about, or spending much time doing research on, the origin of this naming trend.

And so, here, with Gorilla gorilla, I mark the official launch of a [mostly irregular] series called

Species species of the Week week

in which you can look forward to a highlight of some double named organism that has caught my fancy. Certainly it won't be weekly, and they won't all be marine, but they will be cool. I'd also love to hear what other people's favorites are.

Yup, footnotes. I'm the David Foster Wallace of the Marine Ecology Blogosphere
1. You will perhaps recall from 9th grade biology, the scientific name consists of the two most (commonly used) specific taxonomic levels of classification - genus and species name for that organism, written as: Genus species. Just remember that King Phillip Came Over For Good Spaghetti.
2. This makes it extremely difficult to find previous research on organisms because you're never quite certain that there isn't another synonym that you don't know about.
3. There are a lot of rules for this sort of thing these days, no more naming things after yourself.

Posted by Emily Grason

Friday, March 2, 2012

Forensic Strongylocentrotology

One of the S. purpuratus urchins died, and the others ate him, leaving only this skeleton. It smells foul! -Yasmeen