Why do forest soils have an E horizon, but prairie soils don't?

And so we have another agronomy question. It's closely related to the previous one, but I didn't feel like going back and adding this one to the last post. Over the course of this week's soils lab, I learned that (as my post title implies) prairie soils don't have E horizons, but forest soils do. As I explained before, an E horizon is a light-colored layer of soil that has had minerals, organic matter, and clay leeched out of it by rain or some other water seepage. In a forest, very little organic matter accumulates on the surface of the soil. Leaves and maybe a little undergrowth are all that are added to the soil. Most of the organic matter lives for years and years before returning to the soil. In a prairie, on the other hand, all the vegetation dies each year. A huge mass of root and shoot matter is added to the soil each year. Since such a great volume of organic matter is added annually, the dark, humus-enriched A horizon stretches all the way to the B horizon below. In a forest, the organic matter isn't replenished nearly deep enough to account for the eluvating action of the rain, and so you get a light, nutrient-deficient E horizon.

Is there some time we can meet to discuss the arabidopsis research?

Over the summer I emailed Dr. Weller to set up a time to meet about my job. He said he wouldn't be in the country for the first week of classes, but he gave me the name of another person I could talk to who would also be working on the project. Once I got back to campus, I emailed this person known as Brian Dilkes. After a few days, he replied and we set up a meeting time for Thursday. I must admit that I was nervous. I didn't know exactly what we would be meeting about. Was I supposed to come with questions? Was I supposed to have read anything? I was expecting some middle-aged man absorbed in his work and irritated about a student coming with no clear expectations and wasting his time. And so it was with great trepidation that I made my way across campus to room 136 of the Whistler Agricultural Research Building for my 2:30 Thursday afternoon meeting with Dr. Dilkes.

Upon meeting Dr. Dilkes, I was pleasantly surprised. He is a lively, enthusiastic person with no shortage of things to say. He seemed to know exactly what I would have asked to know had I had any idea what it was that I needed to know. In other words, he had a far better idea than I did of what I needed out of the meeting I had scheduled. As soon as he was done on the phone, he greeted me warmly and made sure that he had remembered correctly who I was, and from that point on he spouted all sorts of useful and comforting information. We stopped to meet a girl named Elizabeth (at least I'm pretty sure that's her name) in the lab across the hall and then headed over to the horticulture greenhouses. On the way he gave me an overview of the recent shift in approaching the problem of herbicide resistance. I can't promise I remember everything he said, but I got the gist of it, and that's what matters. We had to wear gloves and these silly robe things to go into the growth chamber where I would work since they had sprayed something earlier. In there, he gave a description of the experiment at hand and showed me what arabidopsis plants look like in various stages of life. From there we took a quick trip around the block to the spray booth I would be using to apply herbicides, and then it was time for me to head back to class.

The meeting has put to rest most of my worries about this job. First off, I won't be doing my own research. Dr. Weller and Dr. Dilkes already have the procedure worked out, and, while I have no doubt that I'm welcome to give input, I really just have to follow instructions for now. No, it's not grand and glamorous, but it pays handsomely and is low-stress. Eventually I do have to do my own research or design project, but not yet. This will help me build connections and experience to increase my options when that time comes. Second, I will not be out on my own. I can have as much or as little guidance from Weller and Dilkes as I want. In the beginning I'm sure I'll want them to check what I do more carefully, but once I get the hang of it I'll be glad to operate with greater independence. This extends to point three, which is that I am free to ask as many questions as I like, whether I'm confused about a procedure, curious about what is happening in the plant, or wondering about any side topic that may catch my interest based on my work. Fourth, I know that I will get along with everyone involved. I already know I get along with Dr. Weller. I can see that I will get along even better with Dr. Dilkes. I'm not sure how often I will be around Elizabeth (if that really is her name), but I sensed nothing unpleasant about her in the few moments I was in the lab with her. It's also nice to know that Dr. Dilkes and Dr. Weller get along nicely. They were motivated to pursue this project not only because of the benefits it promises, but also because it gave them a legitimate reason to enjoy working together again. In summary, thanks to me getting up the nerve to arrange a meeting with this Dilkes fellow, I have virtually no worries about my upcoming job.

What would cause that layer of soil to become white?

Today I had my first lecture for AGRY 255: Intro to Soil Sciences. We dove right into the material and learned some basic terms and concepts behind soil science. One of the topics we glanced at was soil horizons. A soil horizon is a distinct layer of soil in a "vertical" sample (without pictures, I can't think of a better way to describe the type of sample). You can see these separate horizons, although some are more distinct than others. In one picture he showed us to emphasize the differences among soil samples there was a bright white horizon (which I now know to be the E horizon) between two healthy brownish horizons (the A and B horizons, as it were). I wondered what might cause such a stark white, so I stuck around to ask.

First off, it's lighter because it's an E horizon. The E stands for eluviate, which indicates that things are leeched out of that layer. Rain (or run-off or whatever) washes organic matter, minerals, and clays out of that horizon into the B horizon below. Minerals and whatnot are also washed out of the A horizon above, but organic matter from the surface is constantly replacing what is depleted and a a darker color is maintained. So all E horizons are lighter than the horizons above and below. But the contrast in this particular E horizon was rather extreme. It is likely that a strong acid was in the E horizon of the sample in question. This acid would further break down what little wasn't washed out and leave a white color behind.

Doors

In my spare time, I enjoy photography. One of my favorite photography subjects is the door. I don't know what it is about doors that makes me want to take pictures of them. Perhaps because there are so many different types of doors. Whatever the case, I've ended up with quite an extensive collection of pictures of doors, and now I'll share some of my favorites. (Note also that my background picture is back to the dandelion. It will be staying that way until the advent of fall.)

Bogota, Colombia (summer 2010)

Bogota, Colombia (summer 2010)

Bogota, Colombia (summer 2010)

Bogota, Colombia (summer 2010)

West Lafayette, IN (fall 2009)

Ludington, MI (summer 2009)

Ludington, MI (summer 2009)

Cincinnati, OH (spring 2009)

Cincinnati, OH (spring 2009)

Loveland, OH (summer 2009)

Cincinnati, OH (winter 2009)

Ludington, MI (summer 2009)

Schedule Predictions

As you can see, I've changed my background to something cheery once again. I'm all moved in with everything set up except for my bulletin board and a few posters. I start school again tomorrow, so I'd like to get my expectations out before then so I can compare them to reality.

AGEC 330: Management Methods for Agricultural Business
Not too excited about this one, but we'll see. I'll probably learn useful things, even if they're not exciting. There are 126 students, so it shouldn't be too hard to skip if necessary. There is no recitation or anything to go with it, and that's pretty exciting.

AGR 290: Dean's Scholars Peer Mentor Experience
I don't quite know what to expect from this class, if you can really call it a class. I will have a small group of freshman to oversee from the college of ag Dean's scholars program. I took the class as a freshman last year and didn't feel that it was of much benefit to me. Maybe I can make it better for my students this year.

AGRY 255: Soil Science
I think I'll like this class. I do not like the fact that there were so many separate pieces to register for. I do like the fact that we do our weekly labs on our own time. This class is about identification and characteristics of different soil types. I don't find this quite as interesting as plants, but it should be good.

CHM 257: Organic Chemistry
Most people dread this class, but I don't think I'll mind it all that much. I can memorize lists of things with the help of songs and charts, and I can learn whether I have a good TA or not. Supposedly your TA and professor make or break the class.

HORT 217: Woody Landscape Plants
This is going to be a pretty awesome class. We're just going to learn about dozens of different woody landscape plants. I know we'll be doing identification, and I hope we'll be learning about the plants themselves as well.

LA 116: Graphic Communications for Landscape Architecture and Design
This should also be a good class. It's the closest thing I'll have to an art class, so I'll definitely be milking that for all it's worth. We'll be doing different kinds of 2D and 3D rendering, and maybe even some designs of our own.

It should be a decent semester. Two delightful looking classes, two up in the air with the potential to be enjoyable, one that I have no way to judge yet, and one that looks not so grand. My biggest question is how I'll fare without an art class. The only time I've ever been without and art class since first grade was one semester of sixth grade.

Packing Day

I leave for Purdue the day after tomorrow. Tomorrow will be a nice, relaxing day with Josh (with perhaps some cookie-baking in the morning), so I need to get pretty much everything else done today. I'm currently waiting for the dryer to finish drying the final load of laundry so I can pack the rest of my clothes. Then I can finish the rest of the packing. Once my mom is done with they sewing machine I can put the final touches on my fencing hood. The only things left to do will be to visit my grandparents, go to the church college group one last time, and tidy up the after-packing chaos of my room.

Moving/traveling is stressful for me, plus I'm nervous about re-transitioning into my old social groups and meeting new people at Purdue. So I decided to take a little break to listen to some Celtic music and change the background on my blog. This will probably be a very temporary change. Expect the dandelions (or something else summery) to be back in a few days to finish out August and start into September, at which point I will welcome the oranges and browns of autumn. I chose the current background because it looked like a fantastic place to be at the moment, but it's not exactly a welcoming blog background. I couldn't pick a color for all the text, so it's wound up all grey. Maybe I'll change it to blue, green, and orange. We'll see.

Rain

It's finally raining here in Cincinnati! We've had a few sprinkles here and there over the past week or so, but nothing exciting (except for the storm we got yesterday, but I was in church and couldn't fully appreciate it). As I sit here typing and frequently stopping to admire the rain, I remember why I love it so.

It brings a wholesome, fresh smell from the ground. It was this smell that I noticed first, before even the sound and sight of the rain. The smell wafted through my open window and filled me with a peaceful sort of happiness.

Once I smelled the rain smell, I immediately recognized that the sound I had mistaken for the wind continuing to buffet the trees was in fact the rain pattering on the grass and houses and everything else. The wind still blew strong, but the sound of the raindrops mixed into the music.

A split second later I looked out the window and saw the rain as well. It fell slant-wise from the force of the wind and blurred the stand of Austrian pines across the field in a lovely way. Even now that the rain has lightened and the wind calmed, the swift fall of the rain to the ground is soothing.

During the height of the cloudburst, I could even feel the rain. The wild wind occasionally pushed stray raindrops through my window where the screen scattered them into a spray that refreshed my arms and face.

Unfortunately I couldn't taste the rain (I did try, but not hard enough), but the plants can. Well, I suppose they can't literally taste it, but they can drink in its life-giving goodness. As the playwright* said, "Water is life."

I know that if the rain continued for days on end, my peaceful, cozy contentedness would turn to sadness, but when I've waited so long for rain, the only sadness is the happy sorrow (if that makes sense) that the rainsong brings to me.

*The playwright I speak of is the screenwriter for "Dune." I don't know if playwright was the right word to use there, but poet didn't quite fit, and I didn't know what other word to use.

Book Review: The Thousand and Second Arabian Night and The Mystery of Marie Roget

I've finally caught back up to events after my fast, but not quite to the present. Expect real-time posts starting next week when I'm back at school.

Through a chain of events, I found myself at Josh's house with nothing to do. I availed myself of his Poe collection and proceeded to pick out some stories I hadn't read yet. The two I chose were, as the post title indicates, "The Thousand and Second Arabian Night" and "The Mystery of Marie Roget."

I was in the mood for some stereotypical Poe: dark and fantastic with a hint of depression and/or madness. The first story I picked, "The Thousand and Second Arabian Night,"  didn't fit that category, but it was still an interesting read. I learned a lot of new facts, which I've probably mostly forgotten already. The premise was this: after the thousand and first Arabian night, Scheherazade continued to tell stories of Sinbad's travels. On the thousand and second night, all the sights and wonders from her story were based on real things (Mammoth Caves was one, but I forget the rest) described in unusual but truthful ways. In the end, the king decided her story was far too ridiculous and had her executed.

I picked the next story because I recognized it as one in my collection of Poe stories, but I had somehow not read it yet. "The Mystery of Marie Roget" was Poe's second mystery story and was based on details and news articles from real events in New York City surrounding Mary Rogers' apparent murder. According to Josh's anthology, Poe solved the mystery correctly based solely on these newspaper excerpts. According to every other account I've found on the internet, he was wrong. He even released an edited version of the story in which the detective reasoned that Marie died as Mary actually did. It wasn't exactly the sort of story I was in the mood for either, but I enjoyed it more than I did the first I read. I do love a mystery story every so often.

Story Information
Titles: The Thousand and Second Arabian Night, The Mystery of Marie Roget
Author: Edgar Allan Poe
Years Published: 1845, 1842