We now know that trees are crucial to maintaining a stable global climate. Nonetheless, the majority of our information about those woods comes from surface-level observations. Thus, ecologists like Colin Averill once visited this area and made a tally of the number of tree trunks they discovered. Which species they are - would be determined, and modern techniques would allow us to remotely detect aspects of the forest's canopy. Nevertheless, it is clear that this is the case. In order for photosynthesis to occur, the sun must be in the sky. In forests, carbon and energy are introduced via photosynthesis. By a process called photosynthesis, plants are able to draw CO2 out of the air.
Nevertheless, we also know that most trees have their growth hampered by things like water and nutrient availability in the soil. And trees need to put down roots in order to get to those nutrients. The number of roots a tree can grow is astounding. So, in certain forests, the biomass in the root systems may be just as high as that in the stems and leaves. Decades of study have shown that a knowledge of belowground ecology, or what's happening in the soil, is crucial to comprehending the functioning of these forest systems.
However, if you follow these root systems all the way to their terminal ends, the finest tips in the root system, and look closely (and by closely, I mean super closely, like, you're going to need a microscope closely), you will find a place where the tree ceases to be a plant and begins to become a fungus. Therefore, most trees on Earth engage in a mutually beneficial relationship with mycorrhizal fungi, which is known scientifically as symbiosis.
That's why this is, in Colin Averill's opinion, one of the most stunning pictures ever taken of these species. Hence, you can see the intricate web of fungal hyphae in the backdrop, at the top. They are similar to plant roots, only they serve fungus. And there they are, right there in the foreground: those magnificent multinucleated fungal spores that appear like something out of a science fiction movie yet are, in fact, genuine. These fungal organs are responsible for spore production. There's a chance they might evolve into whole unique fungal networks.
The mycorrhizal fungi are crucial in helping almost all plants take use of scarce soil nutrients. There is evidence that this symbiosis arose prior to the creation of roots when plants made the evolutionary shift from aquatic to terrestrial life. Forests have worked hand in hand with fungus for hundreds of millions of years.
Nevertheless, fungi are not the only possible origins for these roots. Bacteria is another example of what they may be. Root nodules are the spherical formations found throughout the root system. In them, nitrogen-fixing bacteria live in a mutualistic relationship with the host. In addition, these bacteria are responsible for fostering plant development by converting atmospheric nitrogen gas into forms that plants can use.
Also, the complexity of soil biology continues to grow. This means that the root symbionts are part of a much larger and more intricate network that also includes free-living bacterial and fungal decomposers, as well as archaea and protists, tiny soil animals, viruses, and so on. Soil ecosystems have an incredible variety of life forms. We now know that more than a thousand different kinds of microbes may live in just a handful of soil.
As a result, what you just read is the microbiome of soil. This is the microbiome of an ecosystem, or a forest. Hence, recent developments in DNA sequencing technology have enabled the illumination of hitherto dark subterranean regions. Only lately have we been able to view these microbial communities on such massive proportions as DNA has made possible.
Yet I would argue that, despite these advances, we still don't know the answers to apparently easy queries, such as, "What does a healthy forest microbiome look like?" When it comes to humans, we have a far better idea of the answer than we do when it comes to plants. In this respect, the Human Microbiome Project has been outstanding. Our bodies, therefore, are a microbial environment. Our health is profoundly influenced by the immensely varied colony of bacteria that we each host in our digestive tracts. Medical microbiologists made the discovery by utilizing DNA sequencing to determine the types of bacteria found in the bodies of hundreds of patients. Hence, it's crucial to take into account the individuals' health conditions. The question then becomes, "Are they ill?" If so, how exactly? How is their mental state, how is their digestion, and what is their blood pressure like? Together, this data will allow microbiologists to start identifying bacterial combinations that are either beneficial to health or harmful to it. These findings provided a guide for creating transplant medicines for the human microbiome, which is similar to ecosystem restoration but for the microbiome in your digestive tract. Several of these disorders are now being treated by medicines that are on their way to market.
Based on these findings, Colin Averill's team wondered, "What would it look like to take the Human Microbiome Project methodology, but apply it to the forest?" Is there anything new we can learn about the carbon cycle in forests? Is it possible to pinpoint areas where subterranean microbial regeneration might be carried out, hence reducing global warming?
We have been collaborating with forest experts all throughout Europe for the last three years to achieve this very goal. To this day, researchers in each of these areas have kept meticulous records on the condition of their own forests. So we had our forest research colleagues gather a soil sample from each of these woods, send it back to our lab in Zurich, extract the DNA, and then we could learn what kinds of bacteria and fungus call these forests home. Finally, we utilized statistics and machine learning to link the types of microbes found in a forest to a crucial indicator of forest health: the pace at which trees grow and store carbon above ground.
Now, after accounting for the environmental drivers of tree growth (how warm and wet each of these places is, and other variables we know control background site fertility), we found that the specific fungi that colonize the roots of these trees is linked to a threefold variation in how fast these trees grow, and thus how quickly they remove carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. In other words, the relationships suggest that two separate pine forests may coexist in the same environment and thrive in the same soils. But, if the correct population of fungus has colonized its roots, it might be developing as much as three times as quickly as the neighboring forest. The presence of any one species or strain was not the driving force behind these patterns; rather, it was the presence of a wide variety of fungus in their respective environments.
We find these fungal fingerprints very promising because they point to a potential for controlling and, in many instances, rewilding the forest's fungal microbiome.
Can we, for instance, restore fungal biodiversity in a controlled wood forestry setting? How quickly can we make those trees grow, anyway? Is there a way to encourage them to plant trees and use their soils to store more carbon? Do we have the capability to rewild the soil and fight global warming? No, these are not empty rhetorical queries; we have already begun acting on them.
As such, this is one of our experiments in the wild in Wales, United Kingdom. It's managed in tandem with a local nonprofit organization called the Carbon Community. It's a block-randomized controlled study covering 28 acres (11.5 hectares). Like a human medication study, but with trees as the subjects. In this case, we do a simple experiment. Either we plant trees as normal, which is to say, we place seedlings directly into the ground, or we plant trees as usual plus a tiny scoop of dirt at the time of planting. Nevertheless, this isn't any old dirt. The soil was collected from a forest where our tests showed the presence of beneficial fungus. We have found that in areas where we have restored microbial diversity, we have increased the pace of tree growth and carbon uptake in tree stems by as much as 70%, depending on the tree type. That is, we have started to alter the functioning of that area where we modified and rewilded the unseen microbiology of this site.
We want to stress that we are enthusiastic about these results but realize that they are preliminary. Further extensive field experiments are needed, ideally at a variety of places over a long period of time.
In my opinion, the most fascinating aspect of this is not the carbon or climatic results themselves, but rather the fact that we may achieve them by using natural, indigenous, and biologically varied microbial mixtures. Although we focused on forestry, the science behind this method could theoretically be applied to all of the ways in which we've altered the natural environment. How can a thriving agricultural microbiome appear? is a question we may start asking. Taking into account farming for both food and timber.
One line of thinking suggests that prioritizing biodiversity might be especially effective in this case. The history of agriculture is a lesson in reductionism, after all. We've gone from identifying high-performing plant species to strains to selective breeding to genetic modification. Finally, we establish huge monocultures of those species. It means that the whole plant community consists of a single species. This has, without a doubt, resulted in very fruitful agricultural environments. Yet it has also led to the development of ecosystems whose fragility is just now being recognized. The vulnerability of systems to climate change and emerging infections is growing. We are learning that very chemically dependent systems have extremely negative side effects.
Hence, we may now begin to take the other approach and lean into biodiversity and complexity thanks to the abundance of data, computational tools, and ecological theory at our disposal. And once we do, the real issue is whether or not we can rewild our soils to turn our managed food and forest landscapes into repositories of belowground biodiversity. Is it possible to increase crop yields, carbon sequestration, and other ecosystem services in this way?
It seems to me that there is much cause for optimism. Therefore, I don't believe we should be too shocked to learn that such little species may have such huge implications for whole ecosystems. It's because we've known for a long time that trees are really fungus. These communities are home to a wide variety of organisms, including bacteria, archaea, protists, microbes, and even viruses. The microbial communities that call soil their home are some of the most complex and biologically varied on the planet, and it serves as the literal basis for all terrestrial ecosystems.
DNA sequencing is illuminating hitherto dark areas of the earth. It's letting us observe these species at sizes and in levels of detail never before possible. You're studying plant biology, and you're not sure whether you're looking at a sequoia tree or a sphagnum moss. You just did it out of the blue! That's the state of the art in the field of microbiology studying the world's environment right now. As a result, this sea change in our knowledge of microorganisms, especially fungus, has the potential to fundamentally alter our comprehension of and approach to managing ecosystems.
Source: TED
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