Guest post: Not alive, but deadly

By David Parrish

Illustration of the structure of a coronavirus particle. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC); Public domain.

The “novel coronavirus” has many of us cringing at every sniffle, cough, and sneeze we hear (or utter). Anxiety levels are high and justifiably so. Perhaps shedding some light on viruses can help us deal less anxiously with this new one. The old Irish proverb comes to mind: “better the devil you know.”

Viruses inhabit an interesting space in the field of biology. Only a few thousand have been named (versus more than a million species of plants, animals, and fungi), but viruses are likely the most abundant form that biologists study. Here’s the logic. Humans are subject to infection by many different viruses, most of which infect only us, and the same appears to be true for every species of animal, plant, fungus, and bacterium. Accordingly, we can reason that viruses are the most abundant things biologists study.

However, most biologists do not consider viruses to be truly alive. Since the 19^th century, biologists have agreed that living things are made of cells – the complex building blocks of life. Viruses are not cellular. They are quite simple, made of DNA or RNA, a few proteins, and (sometimes) oily substances. They do not carry out the biochemistry associated with life. Antibiotics (the name means “against life” or “not fit for life”) are not effective against viruses exactly because viruses do nothing that an antibiotic can attack.

But viruses do some things that make them seem to be alive. They act a lot like bacteria and fungi in their ability to invade organisms, cause diseases, reproduce, disperse, and then repeat the cycle. It is an act, though, not really life. Living microbes that cause diseases (bacteria and fungi) generally grow and make more of themselves in cavities or on cell surfaces of their “hosts” (victims). They live outside of the hosts’ cells and cause diseases by multiplying, producing toxins, or other effects. By contrast, viruses enter a host cell, unpack their DNA or RNA, commandeer the cell’s metabolic machinery, and cause new virus parts to be made. The parts self-assemble and the resulting viruses can disperse and repeat the process. In essence, a virus is a non-living, stripped-down, nano-robot-like, biochemical assembly that invades cells and hijacks them to make more viruses.

In animals, if a virus invades cells lining air passages, the symptoms will be respiratory – from colds to bronchitis to pneumonia. Several different human viruses attack liver cells and can cause hepatitis. Some viruses can turn genetic switches in infected organs and cause cells to divide malignantly. The human papillomavirus (HPV) is a well-studied virus known to cause cancer, and HPV vaccines have been shown to be quite effective in preventing both HPV infections and associated cancers.

Where does a novel coronavirus – or any new virus – come from? How does a fatal disease like Covid-19 suddenly appear? Unfortunately, a never-before-seen virus with lethal potential can be produced in just one viral generation. The genes (DNA or RNA) that viruses carry are subject to mutation and new combinations. Pieces of DNA from host cells can be picked up by the virus, potentially making it more easily spread, more lethal, or both. In this way, viruses evolve to produce new forms just as living things do.

In another cruel twist, a host cell may be invaded simultaneously by two different viruses and forced to make parts for both. As those parts are self-assembling, mixtures of the two viruses may form. And those hybrids may have unique disease properties. Many virologists suspect that the virus causing Covid-19 resulted from this kind of mashup between something as innocuous as a common cold coronavirus and a coronavirus from a bat. Such cross-species viral hybrids seem inevitable in a world with ever increasing numbers of people and our continual encroachment on other animals’ territory. Both science and common sense are needed in this area.

Virologists, epidemiologists, and physicians still have much to learn about Covid-19 and the virus that causes it, but I am cautiously optimistic that the science being brought to bear on this new scourge will get us past it. And the hope is the knowledge gained will make us better prepared for scourges yet to come.

About the author: After earning his PhD in plant science from Cornell, Parrish joined the faculty of Virginia Tech’s College of Agriculture and Life Sciences, where he taught crop ecology and environmental science. His research interests spanned seed physiology, sustainable cropping systems, and biological sources for renewable energy. In his book, “The Gyroscope of Life” (Pocahontas Press, June 2020), Parrish brings biological studies to the curious non-scientist in an accessible and relevant way, inspiring readers to consider the world around us in a new light.

 

Bloom by Ruth Kassinger

The first things I think of when I hear the word “algae” are the microscopic green cells that were the ancestors of land plants. Reading Bloom by Ruth Kassinger was a powerful reminder that algae are so much more than this. The term “algae” actually describes a diverse collection of lifeforms ranging from single-celled diatoms to kelp and other seaweeds*. In the book, the author explores the origins of algae, their modern uses in food and other products, and the emerging algae-based technologies that may help us save the planet in future.

Kassinger strikes a good balance between scientific detail and storytelling so that the text is approachable and not too technical. I especially enjoyed how the text mixes descriptive passages with accounts of the author’s meetings with algae growers, scientists and entrepreneurs. The book is perhaps a bit long winded in places but I don’t think this detracts from the author’s message. I am looking forward to seeing how the technologies and products highlighted in the book develop in the future.

Bloom by Ruth Kassinger
Elliott & Thompson, ISBN: 9781783964413, hardback Jul 2019

(Published in the US under the title Slime by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt in June 2019)

*It is worth noting that there is no generally accepted definition of algae. Traditionally a group of bacteria known as cyanobacteria (also known as blue-green algae) were also considered to be algae, but today many scientists reserve the term “algae” for the non-bacterial species. In Bloom, Kassinger uses the older definition and there is a section on the rise of cyanobacteria.

Toddler-led plant science

Image credit: S. Shailes (CC BY 4.0)

Doesn’t time fly? My little baby is now a walking and talking toddler with a love of books and trains (and anything else on wheels!). Since my last post I have been busy trying to keep up with his ever-changing needs, alongside returning to part-time work and my volunteer role in Girlguiding.

I decided to leave my old job at the end of my maternity leave. I loved working for eLife, but the almost two-hour commute each way to the office no longer seemed compatible with my family life. I now do science writing and editing work on a freelance basis. This suits me really well at the moment as I can work when I like (or should I say when Sprog allows me to!).

I consider myself very fortunate to be able to spend most of my time at home looking after my son. We play games, read books (often the same ones “on repeat”), go for walks, meet friends at toddler groups or in parks, and do all sorts of silly things you don’t usually get to do as an adult (such as running around the dining table or rolling balls down a section of old drainpipe). We also do many jobs around the house together including cooking, gardening and laundry. These jobs take twice as long with my little helper and don’t always go to plan, but that’s all part of the fun, right?

I have to remind myself of these good times when one or more of us are unwell, very tired, or we are just having one of those days where even basic tasks (like getting dressed and out of the house) seem like insurmountable goals.

One of the most rewarding things about spending so much time with my son and other little people is observing how toddlers explore the world around them, often finding great joy from seemingly simple things. We have herbs growing in our garden and a few months ago I offered Sprog some herb leaves to sniff. He was captivated by the scents coming off the leaves and was keen to sniff the leaves of other plants. Weeks later, while preparing dinner in the kitchen, he picked up some basil we had just washed and sniffed it without any prompting from me.

As my son explores, he accidentally points out things that bring interesting scientific questions to my mind: how do plants produce fragrances? How do strawberries and other fruits change colour as they ripen? Why are there ants and aphids on the same branch of the apple tree? I’m going to try to harness his natural curiosity to help me write some new blog posts. Lead the way, son.

Guest post: Garlic mustard across the pond

 

By Mercedes Harris

CC BY-SA 3.0

Spring has finally sprung, and forests are coming to life again. Green leaves are starting to emerge along with the first colorful flowers of the season. But not all green is good. Odds are that much of the green you’re seeing this spring comes from non-native plants, especially in residential communities. At first glance, these “pretty” invaders may not appear destructive, but take a closer look and a different picture emerges.

Invasive species are non-native organisms whose introduction causes environmental or economic harm. An invasive herbaceous plant native to Europe and Asia called garlic mustard (Alliaria petiolata) spreads across North American forests causing multiple problems. Its presence inhibits the survival of butterflies, stops the growth of tree seedlings, and minimizes food sources for mammals. How does a 100 cm plant cause so much havoc?

Figure 1: Garlic mustard sightings in the United States reported to Early Detection and Distribution Mapping System (EDDMapS) 

Garlic mustard uses a variety of techniques to persist for years once introduced into new areas. Fast growth, chemical compounds that make it bitter tasting to herbivores, a cryptic rosette plant form, and hefty seed production all give garlic mustard an advantage over native wildflowers, shrubs, and tree seedlings. Garlic mustard grows quicker and taller than native plants crowding the space on the forest floor. Its chemical compounds are toxic to native butterflies and cut off the supportive fungi networks necessary for native tree seedling growth. It has a two-year growing season consisting of a basal rosette during the first year’s growth, which can go unnoticed in this form, but over-winters and bears flashy flowers in the early spring of the second growth year.

It produces high volumes of seeds to spread across landscapes; from roadsides to backyards, pastures to wetlands, hillsides, and prairies. Left unchecked, this plant forms dense populations wherever it goes. One single plant can produce anywhere from 350-7,900 seeds!

So, what can we do about this rapidly spreading herbaceous threat? Land managers commonly use two options, and neither is perfect. First, they can apply herbicide routinely. But this comes with the risk of applying herbicide onto surrounding native plants too. Second, managers can put hours and hours of manual labor into removing existing plants by hand, but garlic mustard has a large root that, if left behind, will regenerate next year.

Paul Henjum (public domain)

While land managers are still adjusting methods of garlic mustard removal and eradication, there are some things that everyone can do to limit the spread of garlic mustard and other invasive species. 1) When hiking, remain on marked trail ways to avoid spreading plant seeds. 2) In invaded areas, check shoes and clothing for seeds and remove them before leaving parks and trails. 3) Do not pick the flowers or open the seed pods as this will increase the seed dispersal range. 4) If spotted, report sightings of populations to land owners, or online invasive species detection databases such as EDDMapS.org.

About the author: Mercedes Harris is a recent graduate from the University of Massachusetts Amherst where she received a master’s degree in environmental conservation. She’s a biologist turned plant ecologist because the zoology courses always filled up too quickly during enrollment but the plant courses turned out to be great.

References:

EDDMapS. 2018. Early Detection & Distribution Mapping System. The University of Georgia – Center for Invasive Species and Ecosystem Health. Available online at http://www.eddmaps.org/; last accessed May 31, 2018.

Book review – The Quantum Realm: Philly the Photon by Mark A Montgomery

I spend my working life helping to repackage scientific findings into formats that allow them to reach new audiences, namely plain-language summaries and podcasts. So, when I was introduced to a SciFi novella for children that prominently features quantum physics, I was intrigued.

Quantum physics (also known as quantum mechanics) is a theory that describes nature at very small scales, at the level of atoms and the ‘subatomic’ particles they consist of. One such subatomic particle known as a photon carries light and other electromagnetic energy.

In The Quantum Realm: Philly the Photon, we meet a boy called Sebastian. After being scared by a thunderstorm, Sebastian’s father encourages Sebastian to ask questions about the nature of light. That night Sebastian has a vivid dream in which he enters the Quantum Realm, leading to an adventure in search of Grunk the Great Graviton (AKA  gravitational force). Along the way, Sebastian confronts some of his fears and learns more about quantum physics.

I have mixed feelings about this story. Some parts of it were rather entertaining and I liked how Mark A Montgomery introduces various concepts in quantum physics in the form of sentient beings that Sebastian can talk to. The characteristics of these characters has clearly been carefully thought through to reflect the nature of the particles they represent, for example, Philly the Photon is very excitable while Grunk lurks deeper within the Quantum Realm, reflecting how the gravitational force is present in atoms but not as important as the other forces at play. However, I wasn’t totally convinced by Sebastian’s character because in much of the dialogue he comes across as being much older than the young boy we meet at the beginning of the story.

I also found it quite hard to keep up with all the new information (and characters) that were introduced along the way. Admittedly, this could be partly because I’m a sleep-deprived new parent, but it does worry me because, although I am not an expert in particle physics, I am not a complete stranger to it. The sheer amount of information packed into the story’s 94 pages may be off-putting to school students who aren’t already pretty interested in physics.

Overall, I think this book is a fun story that provides a different way to learn about the basics of quantum physics and the scientific method. I think it would be of interest to educators who are looking for an unusual way to introduce quantum physics to their students, perhaps in extracurricular science clubs. Montgomery promises to return to the Quantum Realm so it will be interesting to see where the story goes next.

Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book from a book publicity company. The views are my own.

A change of pace

As you may have noticed, Plant Scientist has been quiet for most of 2017. This wasn’t intentional, but a consequence of various, mostly positive events in my life that made it hard to find time and energy to write for the blog.

By far the most significant of these events was giving birth to my first child in the autumn. My son (who I shall refer to as Sprog) arrived after a straightforward labour and, although I can’t pretend that the earliest days of motherhood have been completely smooth sailing, becoming a parent has been an overwelmingly positive experience so far.

Pregnancy was one of the most amazing and weird experiences of my life. Even though I am a biologist I still find it hard to comprehend how I managed to grow a new human in the space of 9 months. In the second and third trimesters feeling the baby move inside my belly was exhilarating, often distracting and, when he kicked my ribs, painful. By the end of my pregnancy my friends and family were laughing at my slow waddling gait (to be fair, I was laughing too) and — due to a combination of feeling hot, swollen ankles and struggling to reach my shoe laces — I was still walking around in slip-on sandals when people around me were reaching for their winter coats…

Of course, the world doesn’t stop turning when you are pregnant so I’ve also been juggling my job, my voluntary work running a Girl Guide unit, and tending to my allotment. Even though I’ve stayed in pretty good health, tiredness and joint aches and pains in the last couple of months meant I had to spend much more time resting than normal. Fortunately people were generally very understanding when it took me longer than usual to do something I had promised. My husband was also very supportive and didn’t complain when he landed up cooking dinner even when it was supposed to be my turn.

I’ve also had a productive year at work. Alongside my usual editing tasks at eLife I researched and wrote my first two feature articles for the journal. The first discussed some of the many journals and other organisations that publish plain-language summaries of research articles. The second article discussed peer review in the context of research grant funding. I really enjoyed the challenge of writing the articles and I’m pleased with the end results.

I’m on maternity leave for the next few months so I’m planning to get back into science blogging as a bit of a break from looking after Sprog. Hopefully my next post will be ready in January.

Wishing you a Happy New Year.

Science without the jargon

Image credit: vividbiology.com (CC BY 4.0)

Have you ever read a scientific paper and struggled to understand the main findings of the research? If so, you are not alone.

When I worked as a research scientist one of my biggest frustrations was how difficult it could be to read research papers, even those within my own field. Research papers are written in a very formal style with lots of jargon, long words and lots of nouns, which help to keep the word count down but also make the text harder to read.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not “anti-jargon”, I do think that careful use of jargon in articles meant for a specialised audience can be very helpful to readers. For example, using the term “photosynthesis” in a scientific paper on leaves is going to be much more concise and less clumsy than writing “the process by which some organisms use energy from sunlight to convert carbon dioxide and water into sugars” several times.

However, researchers working in different fields can all use different sets of jargon (like different dialects in a language) to the point that a plant scientist like me may not be equipped with the right vocabulary to understand a neuroscience paper (without a significant amount of googling and head-scratching at any rate). New technologies and advances in one field may be relevant to researchers working in other fields, so using different scientific dialects may delay the spread of new knowledge. Another issue is that a lot of scientific research is funded by public money and therefore should be answerable to the public. So how can we make the findings of scientific research more accessible to anyone who is interested?

The media play a big role in communicating the findings of research to the wider public. However, the media can only highlight a tiny fraction of research being published, and they (understandably) focus on the most exciting, weird or funny discoveries. But what about all the other research that might still be of interest to to other scientists and members of the public?

One way that some journals, medical charities and other scientific organisations are making research more accessible to broader audiences is by publishing summaries of research articles written in everyday language using few technical terms. This includes eLife (the journal I work for) and my current job involves producing plain-language summaries called “eLife digests” (you can read a selection of eLife digests on our Roots and Shoots blog.

To highlight the plain-language summaries eLife and other organisations produce, we (the eLife features team) have recently published a collection called “Plain-language summaries of research”. The collection includes articles and blogposts about the experiences of various organisations as well as our advice on how to write plain-language summaries. Furthermore, you can listen to my colleague Stuart King and I discuss plain-language summaries in the latest eLife podcast, episode 37.

The most exciting thing I learned while working on the collection is that there is an enormous variety of plain-language summaries out there covering different areas of science from astrophysics to ecology. Furthermore, different organisations target their summaries at different audiences. For example, the summaries produced by some medical journals and medical charities are often primarily aimed at patients and their families. On the other hand, some journals (e.g. PNAS) produce summaries that are aimed at other scientists who read the journal. I think all of these different approaches have a place in widening access to scientific research.

To help people find plain-language summaries on topics that interest them we have compiled a list of over 50 organisations that produce them. Please do make use of this list, and let eLife know of any other organisations that should be included.

 

A community repository of plant illustrations

Guest post by Erin Sparks, Guillaume Lobet, Larry York and Frédéric Bouché

It is midnight on a cold winter evening and you are scheduled to give a seminar at 8 am the next morning. All you are missing to complete your presentation is one last graphic to illustrate your conclusions. You wearily open Adobe Illustrator, stare at a blank artboard and think “isn’t there a better way?” What if there was a place where you could access community plant illustrations to use or modify? Good news! A Plant Illustrations Repository is now available to the plant scientific community!

In a time when scientific communication is becoming increasingly important, one method of communication is through illustrations and graphics. For example, graphical abstracts are now frequently employed by journals to summarize the contents of a manuscript and provide a visual overview of the work. These graphics are generated in programs such as Adobe Illustrator, Inkscape, or even PowerPoint. For additional information about graphical abstracts, we refer the reader to this blog post and a recent webinar by Fred entitled: “Communicate your Research Efficiently Using Graphical Abstracts” hosted by Plantae and the American Society of Plant Biologists.

In an effort to promote scientific communication and the use of graphical abstracts, we have initiated a repository for community-generated pictures and vector graphic illustrations of plants. It takes a lot of effort to make vector graphics so we might as well share them among the community. Thus our goal was to provide a central location where plant scientists can contribute their images and graphics to be used or modified by others (and you get credit for it!).

We decided to use a figshare Collection for a couple of reasons:

• It is free to use and any scientist can deposit data there in a couple of clicks.
• One dataset can contain more than one file (for instance, .ai + .png + .pdf).
• It provides unlimited storage for data that are made public.
• It provides each public dataset with a doi (digital online identifier), which make citation possible, even for a single figure.
• Finally, the Collection feature of figshare allows us to collect images and illustrations from multiple accounts (yours!) into a single place and to present it nicely!

We invite you to visit the Plant Illustrations Repository to learn more about contributing and utilizing this resource.

Happy Communicating!

Erin, Guillaume, Larry and Fred

 

Erin Sparks is a Postdoc with Philip Benfey at Duke University and her recent work focuses on understanding the development and function of maize brace roots. You can follow Erin on Twitter @ErinSparksPhD

Guillaume Lobet is an Associate Professor at the Forschungszentrum Jülich in Germany and the Université catholique de Louvain in Belgium. His work focuses on the development of whole plant models. You can follow Guillaume on Twitter @guillaumelobet

Larry York is an Assistant Professor at The Samuel Roberts Noble Foundation in Ardmore, OK, USA. His work focuses on root functional phenomics including high-throughput phenotyping of root system architecture and physiology. You can follow Larry on Twitter @LarryMattYork

Frédéric Bouché is a Postdoc with Rick Amasino at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. His work focuses on the identification of the genetic mechanisms controlling the timing of flowering in the model grass Brachypodium, a species closely related to wheat, barley, and oats. You can follow Fred on Twitter @Frederic_Bouche

Note: This post has been published on several sites on the same day to help spread the word about this new community resource.

The rules of spacing

Guest post by Luke Simon

I was at a Christmas party in conversation with a local engineer who, hearing I design food forests, wanted to pick my brain on apple trees. He had six trees in two rows of three, well spaced in his backyard. He was throwing out terms about the mainstream organic sprays he was using, and framed his questions expecting me to know some super organic spray, or spray regimen, that would fix his problems of pests and low vigor in general. I don’t think he expected the answer I gave: ‘What’s planted around the trees?’

We often think of the rules of spacing as rules for keeping other plants away from each other. In practice I find the lines blur between species, and enters a much more broad science: it’s what should be included near the plant, as well as what shouldn’t. Between these two aspects, you make or break the majority of fruit tree problems.

The lines often blur between species because, let’s face it, plants don’t grow in a vacuum and always have something growing up against them. In this guy’s case, his trees were planted right into his lawn. They were in competition with the grass.

Looking at their history, grass and trees are in most cases nemesis of one another. Trees make forest; but grass needs open space. The setting in most yards of trees with grass between is quite artificial, and only exists because we keep the grass mowed. In any other situation, trees would take over.

The prairies are the kingdom of grass, and these occured because of rain shadows, or areas where circumstances such as the Rocky Mountain range messed with the winds that carry rain, creating droughts in one part of the year, and near flooding in another. Trees don’t like that, because most have relatively shallow roots, as much as 80 percent residing in the top three feet of soil depending on the kind and its conditions; but prairie plants, such as the grasses, and Nitrogen fixers like Senna hebecarpa, put roots down unusually deep, so reach the water table whether rain comes or not.

An experiment showing the root growth of Red Delicious apple tree two years after planting.

Have you ever wondered as you pass woods how the trees survive so close? If you were planting an oak tree in your yard that would someday reach a hundred foot tall, can you imagine the spacing recommendations? They would be over fifty feet apart. Most yards couldn’t fit more than one tree. But in the woods they stand on top of each other, growing for hundreds of years, happy, and healthy.

Studies have shown that trees can grow their roots deep into the ground, but prefer to keep their roots higher in the soil if possible. There is more organic matter, hence nutrients and water, in this layer. If there isn’t, trees will try to put in the work to grow deeper. This is a lot more work, and certainly isn’t their first choice.

What trees really prefer is building networks in which they share and preserve resources. For instance, trees have what is called hydraulic redistibution, which is a fancy term for moving water not only up for their own use, but back down into the soil for storage, and horizontally to other plants. Peter Wholleben, in his book The Hidden Life of Trees recalls his surprise when he found a ring of roots from a beech tree that must have been cut down well over a century beforehand, but still had green, living roots showing above ground. It had no leaves, and the stump was gone. As he explained, citing various studies, the living trees around this ancient (should be dead) tree were feeding it sugars made in their leaves, keeping it alive. Likely, they got some kind of kickback from the extended root system because it allowed them access to more resources.

This is in ancient, established forests, so conditions aren’t quite the same for our young transplants. We can get some similar effects by growing fruit trees in more open settings, or riparian zones. These are zones similar to fencerows and overgrown fields where grasses are just converting to trees. These zones are iconically untidy and wild; but skillful gardeners know the elements of these zones, like clay in a potters hand, have the best potential to form the most beautiful, lush gardens.

Riparian zones have many layers, with notably high numbers of low growing herbaceous and woody shrubs, many of which are nitrogen fixers. The quickest way to simulate this ecology is making ‘guilds’ of plants right around your fruit trees. Here is my manual of bed building for info on quickly clearing grass without tillage. Plan on expanding these plantings every year until the beds around your trees meet. If the tree is older, and larger, the bed should extend at least a couple feet beyond its drip line.

An example guild. 1. Fruit tree 2. Comfrey 3. Siberian Peashrub 4. Amorpha fruticosa 5. Japanese Wineraspberry 6. Honeyberry 7. Blueberry 8. Turkish Rocket 9. Crambe cordifolia 10. Stepping stones, (or in this case, stepping logs). The green base is a ground cover of mint.

Any guild should include at least 2 woody nitrogen fixing plants, about 5 plants that do not fix nitrogen but can be cut for mulch, such as comfrey, or a groundcover of something like mint, then several fruiting shrubs like raspberry or honeyberry, and some perennial vegetables.

This is the best method if you already have fruit trees in the ground, like our engineer friend. If you’re just planning your food forest, Robert Hart, the father of the northern food forests, recommended planting full size or standard fruit trees at recommended spacing for their size, in rows like any orchard, but then semi standard or medium trees, then dwarf trees, then shrubs, then herbaceous plants, then vines to climb and fill in the cracks between them.

I’d recommend mulching as much as you can, and planting that area with a complete planting like this. The space should be completly filled with plants, and will establish faster with less work overall.

This system gives quite attractive results that are increasingly less cost and labor than serial applications of even organic, clay-based sprays, pyrethrums and neems, let alone harsher chemicals. There is work later on, but this is of course debatable, because its mostly harvests of fruit. Sounds like pleasant work to me.

This article was originally published on Mortal Tree on 24th February 2017.

About the author: Luke Simon is garden manager for Simon Certified Organic Family Farm, and on his own time a permanent edible landscape designer in Ohio, United States. He is the author of PASSIVE Gardening and Mastering the Growing Edge. Follow him on his blog, Mortal Tree, and his Instagram @mortal_tree.

 

Emerging from the cloud

Spring lunchtime in Cambridge Botanic Garden

Regular readers of this blog will have noticed that I’ve been rather quiet this year. The main reason for this is that 2016 has not been kind to me. Following the loss of my oldest friend in January, several other things have hit my personal life this year including ill health (both to myself and members of my family) and the loss of my grandmother. These things have left my mental health in a more fragile state than normal so, to look after myself while keeping up with my day job and other responsibilities, the blog has had to take a back seat.

I don’t want to give you the impression that 2016 has been a complete disaster for me. I still enjoy my job at eLife and have taken on some new responsibilities this year, including managing the eLife podcast. In January I set up a new Girl Guide unit, which meets regularly to provide 10-14 year old girls in my local area with opportunities to have fun and learn new skills. We have a lot of fun at our meetings and the numbers of girls in the unit has gradually grown over the year. My friends and I have made good progress with the work on the run-down allotment plot we took on earlier this year. Most importantly, this year has highlighted how wonderful my friends and family are and how lucky I am to have them in my life.

The other reason that I have had less time to blog this year is that I’m currently taking a distance-learning course in proofreading. I decided to take this course to get some more formal training in proofreading and also to learn more about the publishing industry as a whole. Excluding my PhD – which felt more like working than studying – this is the first course of study I’ve taken since I finished my undergraduate degree in 2009. It does feel a bit strange to be working on “exercises” and “assignments” again, but I’m really enjoying it so far.

I’m starting to emerge from the cloud that seems to have followed me around this year so I’m hoping to be able to blog more often. Watch this space.