The Scent of Cotton Candy in the Air...

This afternoon, as I wandered past several Cercidiphyllum japonicum, I was bowled over by the amazing aroma produced by their leaves this time of year: a crazy and intense cologne of cotton candy, carmelized brown sugar, and fermented raspberries.

That means but one thing, that autumn is fast approaching, and the katsura trees are cannibalizing their chlorophyll, producing maltol in the process.

If you have not had the opportunity to surround yourself with senescing katsura leaves, then you have not lived.

Go.
Find the nearest tree.
Sit beneath its branches.
Close your eyes; inhale deeply.
Dream of childhood memories, cookies fresh out of Grandma's oven.















Scattered katsura leaves, photo taken at the Morris Arboretum

If you beat the egg long enough,
it will confess.

A very wise statistics professor of mine at Iowa State University made this statement while discussing the pros and cons of excessive model fitting, bizarre transformations, and unnecessary tweaking of the data just to get the desired results. I recalled those words today as I sat at my desk generating scores upon scores of pages of statistical output. I'm in the midst of analyzing data from a cluster of related experiments. And, while the experiments were relatively easy to execute and the data rather simple in scope, their analysis has proven to be quite the bugger!

I always strive for simplicity, for parsimony. And yet, that is tough to do when I request a simple answer of the software, and out pops reams upon reams of bizarre tests, each with their own unique probabilities. Akaike Information Criterion here, Huynh-Feldt Epsilon there. I roll my eyes as I attempt to wade through the gobbledygook. "Oh but such things are now required by the reviewers and editors of the journals!" cry out colleagues. "We are well beyond simple Student's T-Tests."

And yet, when I peruse Science and Nature, the two journals regarded as finest in all of the lands, I frequently see complex results analyzed in the most simple of ways. I see means followed by their standard errors, and a simple t-test used to determine if those means are any different from each other.

Often when I get frustrated over such matters, I consult with that wizened statistician. His observation in an e-mail this morning: "I am very tired of the Statistics profession burdening biologists with complexities I doubt are any more than a new way to get some young stat professor promotion and tenure."

Amen.

I think I'll drink a Guinness and then conduct some 'simple' Student's T-Tests (invented almost a century ago by a brewer of that fantastic stout). If its good enough for Science...


Romneya coulteri

Woof, woof... A study in bark

Following the previous Betula posting, where I waxed and waned on the genus' bark characters , I thought perhaps I would assemble a small periderm collage.


Giant sticks of cinnamon...

Acer griseum



Multi-hued camouflage...
















Stewartia sinensis



Flakey, shaggy plates...
















Corylus colurna



Approaching alabaster...
















Platanus X acerifolia



Ebony with throw-rugs ...










Arctostyphylos patula




Horned club...
















Zanthoxylem simulans

An Asian river birch

Birch trees are not just important keystone species that play important roles in many north temperate ecosystems, but they often make gorgeous landscape specimens as well. Most are planted and appreciated because of their notable bark traits, which can range from black and rugged like that of an old Betula dahurica to crisp and cleanly white as in Betula papyrifera.

The river birch, Betula nigra, of North America is a very popular landscape tree, appreciated for its peeling bark, seen here in the cultivar 'Cully', and uncharacteristic (for a birch) tolerance to heat and drought.




















But another species of birch, Betula albo-sinensis, blows it out of the water with respect to its ornamental "a-peel". I first saw this species grown in the UK, where I mistook it for an American river birch on steroids. I also got to see it growing along mountain streams in southern Shaanxi Province, China. Note the similarities in the hue and texture of the bark. I particularly love the color when the light shines through the peels, as can be seen in these two images.


















When I was in China, I was told that it is tradition to carefully peel away the "paper" and write poetry on it for one's lover, particularly when first declaring your love for him/her. The sappy romantic in me likes the idea, but the tree lover shudders at the thought! Luckily, I don't think one does too much harm to the plant by removing but a few strips of paper, although if you remove too much you may get into trouble. Plants can get 'sun burned', particularly in the winter (surprisingly) and I wonder if birch trees that have had several strips of bark removed are more prone to this damage known as Southwest (the direction of intense winter sun when north of the Equator) Injury.

Hmmm.... that would be an interesting experiment to conduct...