Hours

One thing about living at a field station, your time is truly your own. Folks who work here on the island live in two very different ways. Some commute in daily from the sleepy town of Gamboa, down on the other end of Lake Gatun. These folks arrive promptly 8:00AM, trundling up the roads and steps, lugging field equipment, some still groggy from sleeping on the boat. They leave just as promptly at 3:30 when the blast of the horn signals the end of the work day. Gamboites thus live a comfortable commuter existence–but instead of opening a briefcase they swing a butterfly net or measure the number of bugs on leaves of various plants for their workaday existence. Home at 4:00PM means making dinner, shopping, going to a show.

The second way is to live and work at the field station, sleeping in the dormitories and eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner in the comedor. This to me is infinitely preferable, if only because one is free to work in the forest or the lab with the minimum distractions of domesticity crowding in. Its like summer camp for ecologists. Eating at the long tables, and gabbing about your work, the latest movies, and intriguing skin lesions is just part of the mix, and you don't have to do dishes. Laundry is still on your own, but many find ways to avoid that chore for lengths of time that would, in the more cultured world, seem a bit protracted. If I wanted to walk all night through the forest, looking for army ants I could. (I don't, but I could). And frankly, the notion of leaving the island at 3:30 just makes no sense. Especially when happy hour on the balcony, overlooking the lagoon, is just about the most splendiferous thing in the life of the island.

One consequence is the hours–one awakes with the sun at 6:00, and, without much of a break finds oneself in the lab after 9:00 (tho the institution of the power nap is very much in play here). And here we are sit, geeking at computers, plugged into Ipods, and/or separating litter ants from the twiggy homes into sleek new plastic condos. Another island resident stops by delivers cookies. We're all in this together.

Not a bad life. Even if the hours are a little on the longish side.

Using your senses


Hi, my name is Risa Walters and this is my first field season. Actually, this is the first time I've used a passport. I have a degree in screenwriting and experience in the entertainment business in Los Angeles, but I recently returned to college in my hometown to fulfill my interests in science. I am one of the new additions to Dr. Kaspari's antlab at the University of Oklahoma. My intentions are to eventually pursue a master's and/or PhD in zoology, subject undecided. So far, I am fascinated with fungal parasites and their effects on arthropods. This summer my goals are to learn as much about ecology and ants as I can, as well as absorb information about all the interesting subjects various researchers from all over the world are exploring.

One of the things I have learned about field work is the importance of using the senses for gathering information about litter samples I am collecting in an area. Just the smell of an area of the forest can tell you something about what aspects of the area are dominate. A rotten apple smell can be indicative of endophyte decomposition in leaves, and the chemicals millipedes secrete as a defense mechanism also have a very strong, specific scent.

Recently I was taught how to determine the possibility of ant colonies inside fallen vines, branches and twigs. The exterior of the sticks tend to be spongey and will sometimes flake in my hand. Finding an ant colony is like discovering a small secret of the forest, like hearing controversial gossip or discovering diamonds in a sand box. One of my goals this summer is to keep a colony of ants alive so I may observe their activities.

Currently, I am gathering isopods (pill bugs and sow bugs) and millipedes to discover what they like to eat. I'm sure you'll read more about it later this summer!

This view of life…


So much to see and understand here. This, the essence of my experience in the tropics, summarizes the feeling I get everyday when looking at the forest on Barro Colorado Island. My name is Matt Dowling and I'm an undergraduate at the University of Oklahoma currently working in Mike Kaspari's Antlab. I'm fascinated by the natural history of small, twig-dwelling ants that live in the leafy, moist litter on the forest floor here in the tropics. There is much still to learn about these ants. One thing that that is well understood is that the are extremely abundant. What do the ants do in the leaf litter? How do their everyday activities affect other soil arthropods living near them? Are they aggressive predators? What do they eat? How do they deal with the ephemeral nature of the the twig nests they inhabit? I think about these types of questions a lot. Why should organisms that average between 1-3mm in length become successful in so many ways? E.O. Wilson has called these types of organisms the "small things that run the world". In later posts I'd like to talk about just what it means to 'run the world' by affecting the trophic dynamics in the leaf litter. I'll describe the experiments I'm conducting this field season, and try to share some of the wonder that the forest on BCI inspires in me. Welcome to the Antlab in Panama!

Two weeks here and time to say hello

A little late for the "we've arrived!" post, especially as JonS stepped foot on this island almost a month ago. But here's the deal. Every year the AntLab from the University of Oklahoma, comes to Barro Colorado Island with the aim of finding out a little more about how the forest works. I'll let the other members of my lab–JonS, MattD and RisaW–clue you in as to what they're doing and why. Suffice to say we are a diverse group with diverse backgrounds but held together by a common fascination with the forest and its inhabitants, particularly the social, wingless, denizens of the soil and treetops that give our blog and our lab its name.

To my mind, the real purpose of this blog is to record our impressions about how fieldwork happens: the "two steps forward and one step backward" nature of any project as it goes from an abstract notion in a coffee shop to the moist, sticky, grimy gorgeous forest, the incredible things you see in the forest if you just keep your eyes open, and the folks and critters you meet along the way. There are some pretty talented folks working in the lab this go-around, so have a sit down, scratch those chigger bites, and let's get going!

Field Notes: Adventures with the AntLab in Panama

ANTLAB

Newer entries »