Curly Cucurbits

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I’ve grown to really appreciate cucurbits (family Cucurbitaceae) in recent years. From their ambling/climbing habit and often delicious fruits to their beautiful flowers and intimate relationships with a few native bees, this family has a lot to offer. Of course, there are few better ways to get to know plants than by growing them in and around your home and, at least at our place, this summer will go down in history as the summer of the gourd. We are currently growing a handful of species and cultivars and I get a great deal of enjoyment out of watching them grow up the trellis we have provided.

As they climb, cucurbits send out long, thin tendrils (which are actually modified stems) that grab on and wind around any surface they touch. This happens surprisingly quick too. Within only a few minutes of touching a surface, individual tendrils will begin to wind themselves around it. This phenomenon has fascinated people for centuries. I don’t doubt it amused the indigenous cultures that first began cultivating them for food and that amusement continues till this day. Do a web search for cucumber tendrils and you will find countless pictures and blogs showcasing this wonderful anatomical habit.

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Despite all the attention, the mechanisms behind this behavior have largely remained a mystery until quite recently. We have known that the initial curling of the tendril is induced by touch. As soon as the cells within the tendril sense contact with a surface, the signal is sent to begin curling. But how do they curl so quickly?

The key to this behavior lies in a two-layered band of specialized cells that run the length of the tendril. Once the signal that the tendril has touched an object has been received, these bands swing into action. One layer of cells will immediately begin to expel water, causing them to contract. Meanwhile, the other layer of cells becomes increasingly stiff and lignified. This creates tension along the length of the tendril, causing it to bend. Oddly enough, this doesn’t happen in the same direction. Take a close look at the tendrils on a cucumber or squash vine and you will notice that each tendril curls in two different directions, separated by a kink or “perversion” (as it is known in the literature) in the middle. This is because the layer of cells on the band that shrinks is different whether you are near the tip or near the base of the tendril.

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As many of you reading this are already well aware, the tendrils help to secure the plants as they climb. However, the story is much more interesting than simply anchoring the plants in place. The curling of the tendrils is extremely important when it comes to structural support. If the tendrils did not curl, the plant would be anchored in place with very little wiggle room. As big gusts of wind cause the plant to thrash to and fro or a heavy limb comes crashing down from above, a straight tendril would be far more likely to break under the strain. By adding those opposite twists, the tendrils are able to flex a lot, providing enough movement to keep them from breaking under stress.

If you watch how the tendrils develop over time, their amazing structural support gets even cooler. When stretched, a metal spring looses a lot of its springy-ness. This is not the case for cucurbit tendrils. When stretched, they not only return to their original shape, they curl even tighter. This way, the plant is able to secure itself with varying intensities, allowing for fine tuned adjustments to its structural support. The amount of curling also changes with age. Older tendrils tend to curl more tightly than younger tendrils, especially under strain. As the plant grows, older portions of the stem secure themselves much more strongly via their tendrils. Alternatively, the younger growing portions of the stem need to be a bit more flexible as they anchor themselves to whatever they are climbing on.

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So there you have it. The aesthetically pleasing, curly tendrils of your cucurbits serve a very important function in the growth of the plant. Without them, these plants would not only have a hard time climbing, they would also be knocked down by every minor disturbance. The key to their success as vines lies in highly modified stems with an intriguing band of specialized cells that provide them with a physically sound anchoring mechanism.

Learn more in this video:

Further Reading: [1] [2]

Why Do Rhododendron Leaves Droop and Curl in the Winter?

Photo by Hanna Sörensson licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0

Photo by Hanna Sörensson licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0

Broad leaved, evergreen plants living in the temperate regions of the world face quite a challenge come winter time. Freezing temperatures, lack of water, and often intense sun can exact quite a toll on living tissues. These are likely just some of the reasons why, relatively speaking, broad leaved evergreens are a rare occurrence in temperate zones. By far the most popular group of plants in this category are the Rhododendrons.

Many a Rhodo lover has said that they can tell how cold it is outside by looking at Rhododendron leaves. Indeed, as temperatures drop, the leaves of these evergreen shrubs frequently droop and curl up like green cigars. These leaf movements do seem to be tied to the weather but their triggers and function have been the source of a lot of debate. Certainly not all Rhododendrons are cold hardy but those that are seem to benefit from reorienting their leaves. Why does this happen?

In the past it has been suggested that leaf reorientation may have something to do with reducing snow load. If the leaves were to remain horizontal, this could cause enough snow buildup to break branches. The fact that a considerable amount of ice and snow can accumulate on branches regardless of leaf position, and largely without harm, seems to suggest that this is not the case. Others have suggested that it could be a way to reduce water loss. As the leaves droop and curl, they are hypothetically increasing the humidity around their leaves and thus reducing their chances of desiccation.

Photo by Nicholas A. Tonelli licensed under CC BY 2.0

Photo by Nicholas A. Tonelli licensed under CC BY 2.0

This seems pretty far fetched for a few reasons. For starters, Rhododendron simply do not open their stomata during the colder months. By keeping them closed, there is no net transfer of water into or out of the leaves. Also, their thick, waxy cuticle keeps water within the leaves from evaporating out as well. Finally, leaf drooping and curling happens long before the ground freezes and therefore doesn't seem to be triggered by a lack of water in the environment.

The leading theories on this phenomenon seem to deal more with issues at the cellular level. The first of these has to do with the sensitive photosynthetic machinery inside the chloroplasts. Leaf drooping may actually be a response to increased light. Though we generally don't think about photosynthesis in the winter months, evergreen plants actually experience the highest light intensities of the year during this time period. Throughout the growing season, they are generally shaded by the overstory. However, once the canopy leaves fall, things change.

Because the plants are, for the most part dormant, the photosystems within the chloroplasts have no way of dissipating the energy from the incoming sunlight. Photosystem II is especially vulnerable under such scenarios. Experiments have shown that leaves that were forced to stay horizontal during the winter experienced permanent sun damage and photosynthesized considerably less than leaves that were allowed to droop once favorable temperatures returned. The thought is that by positioning the leaves vertically, the plants are reducing the amount of direct light hitting them throughout winter and therefore reducing the potential for light damage.

Photo by Lorianne DiSabato licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Photo by Lorianne DiSabato licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

These experiments also revealed something else about the changes in leaf position when it comes to shape. As it turns out, curling made no difference in protecting the leaves from light damage. It would seem that drooping and curling are responses to two different types of environmental stress. So, why do the leaves curl?

The answer to this question is physical and one that has gained a lot of research attention in the field of cryogenics. When living tissues freeze, ice crystals build up to the point that they can rupture cell membranes. This is only exacerbated if the tissues thaw out quickly. Anyone that has ever tried to freeze and then thaw leafy vegetables knows what I am talking about.

To best preserve tissues via freezing, they must freeze quickly, which reduces the size of the ice crystals that can form, and then thaw out slowly. Researchers found that Rhododendron leaves freeze completely at temperatures below -8 degrees Celsius (17.6 degrees Fahrenheit), temperatures that occur regularly throughout the range of temperate Rhodo species. Again, experiments were able to demonstrate that flat leaves thaw much more rapidly than curled leaves. This is because a curled leaf exposes far less surface area to the warming sun than does a flat leaf. As such, curled leaves don't thaw out as fast and thus are able to avoid much of the damaging effects of daily freeze-thaw cycles.

Though these are all components of the Rhodo leaf puzzle, there is still much work to be done. What we do know is that leaf drooping and leaf curling are two separate behaviors responding to different environmental pressures. Indeed, it appears that these two traits seem to be tied to cold hardiness in the genus Rhododendron. What the exact triggers are and how they produce the changes in shape and orientation, as well as the mechanics of winter survival at the cellular level are topics that are going to require further study. Until then, I think its safe to say that we can appreciate and, to some degree, rely on the spot forecasting abilities of these wonderful shrubs.

Photo Credits: [1] [2] [3]

Further Reading: [1] [2] [3]

 

The First Trees Ripped Themselves Apart To Grow

Illustration by Falconaumanni licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0

Illustration by Falconaumanni licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0

A new set of fossil discoveries show that the evolutionary arms race that are forests started with plants that literally had to rip themselves apart in their battle for the canopy. The first forests on this planet arose some 385 million years ago and were unlike anything we know today. They consisted of a clade of trees known scientifically as Cladoxylopsids, which have no living representatives in these modern times. How these trees lived and grew has remained a mystery since their fossilized trunks were first discovered but a new set of fossils from China reveals that these trees were unique in more ways than one.

Laying eyes on a full grown Cladoxylopsid would be a strange experience to say the least. Their oddly swollen base would gradually taper up a trunk that stretched some 10 to 12 meters (~30 - 40 feet) into a canopy of its relatives. They had no leaves either. Instead, their photosynthetic organs consisted of branch-like growths that were covered in twig-like projections. Whereas most fossils revealed great detail about their outward appearance, we have largely been in the dark on what their internal anatomy was like. Excitingly, a set of exquisitely preserved fossils from Xinjiang, China has changed that. What they reveal about these early trees is quite remarkable.

As it turns out, the trunks of these early trees were hollow. Unlike the trees we know today, whose xylem expands in concentric rings and forms a solid trunk, the trunk of Cladoxylopsid was made up of strands of xylem connected by a network of softer tissues. Each of these strands was like a mini tree in and of itself. Each strand formed its own concentric rings that gradually increased the size of the trunk. However, this gradual expansion did not appear to be a gentle process.

As these strands increased in size, the trunk would grow larger and larger. In doing so, the tissues connecting the strands were pulled tighter and tighter. Eventually they would tear under the strain. They would gradually repair themselves over time but the effect on the trunk was quite remarkable. In effect, the base of the tree would literally collapse in on itself in a controlled manner. You could say that older Cladoxylopsids developed a bit of a muffin top at their base. 

A cross section of a Cladoxylopsid trunk showing the hollow center, individual xylem strands, and the network of connective tissues. [SOURCE]

A cross section of a Cladoxylopsid trunk showing the hollow center, individual xylem strands, and the network of connective tissues. [SOURCE]

Although this seems very detrimental, the overall structure of the tree would have been sturdy. The authors liken this to the design of the Eiffel tower. Indeed, a hollow cylinder is actually stronger than a solid one of the same dimensions. When looked at in the context of all other trees, this form of growth is truly unique. No other trees are constructed in such a manner.

The authors speculate that this form of growth may be why these trees eventually went extinct. It would have taken a lot of energy to grow in that manner. It is possible that, as more efficient forms of growth were evolving, the Cladoxylopsids may not have been able to compete. It is anyone's guess at this point but this certainly offers a window back into the early days of tree growth. It also shows that there has always been more than one way to grow a tree.

LEARN MORE ABOUT THESE TREES AND THE FORESTS THEY MADE IN EPISODE 253 OF THE IN DEFENSE OF PLANTS PODCAST.

Photo Credits: [1] [2]

Further Reading: [1]