window.__IS_SSR__=true
window.__INITIAL_STATE__={
"attachmentsReducer": {
"audio_0": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "audio_0",
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/themes/KQED-unified/img/audio_bgs/background0.jpg"
}
}
},
"audio_1": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "audio_1",
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/themes/KQED-unified/img/audio_bgs/background1.jpg"
}
}
},
"audio_2": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "audio_2",
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/themes/KQED-unified/img/audio_bgs/background2.jpg"
}
}
},
"audio_3": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "audio_3",
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/themes/KQED-unified/img/audio_bgs/background3.jpg"
}
}
},
"audio_4": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "audio_4",
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/themes/KQED-unified/img/audio_bgs/background4.jpg"
}
}
},
"placeholder": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "placeholder",
"imgSizes": {
"thumbnail": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-160x107.jpg",
"width": 160,
"height": 107,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"medium": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-800x533.jpg",
"width": 800,
"height": 533,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"medium_large": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-768x512.jpg",
"width": 768,
"height": 512,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"large": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1020x680.jpg",
"width": 1020,
"height": 680,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"1536x1536": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1536x1024.jpg",
"width": 1536,
"height": 1024,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"fd-lrg": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1536x1024.jpg",
"width": 1536,
"height": 1024,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"fd-med": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1020x680.jpg",
"width": 1020,
"height": 680,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"fd-sm": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-800x533.jpg",
"width": 800,
"height": 533,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"post-thumbnail": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"height": 372,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"twentyfourteen-full-width": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1038x576.jpg",
"width": 1038,
"height": 576,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"xxsmall": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-160x107.jpg",
"width": 160,
"height": 107,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"xsmall": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"height": 372,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"small": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"height": 372,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"xlarge": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1020x680.jpg",
"width": 1020,
"height": 680,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"full-width": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1920x1280.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"height": 1280,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-1333x1333-1-160x160.jpg",
"width": 32,
"height": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"guest-author-50": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-1333x1333-1-160x160.jpg",
"width": 50,
"height": 50,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-1333x1333-1-160x160.jpg",
"width": 64,
"height": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-1333x1333-1-160x160.jpg",
"width": 96,
"height": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-1333x1333-1-160x160.jpg",
"width": 128,
"height": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-1333x1333-1-160x160.jpg",
"width": 160,
"height": 160,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1.jpg",
"width": 2000,
"height": 1333
}
}
},
"science_1924642": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "science_1924642",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1924642",
"found": true
},
"parent": 1924639,
"imgSizes": {
"small": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/Dd_dEntVQAEWhjn-520x261.jpg",
"width": 520,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 261
},
"thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/Dd_dEntVQAEWhjn-160x80.jpg",
"width": 160,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 80
},
"post-thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/Dd_dEntVQAEWhjn-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 372
},
"xsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/Dd_dEntVQAEWhjn-375x188.jpg",
"width": 375,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 188
},
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/Dd_dEntVQAEWhjn.jpg",
"width": 916,
"height": 460
},
"guest-author-50": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/Dd_dEntVQAEWhjn-50x50.jpg",
"width": 50,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 50
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/Dd_dEntVQAEWhjn-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"medium": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/Dd_dEntVQAEWhjn-800x402.jpg",
"width": 800,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 402
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/Dd_dEntVQAEWhjn-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/Dd_dEntVQAEWhjn-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/Dd_dEntVQAEWhjn-150x150.jpg",
"width": 150,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 150
},
"medium_large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/Dd_dEntVQAEWhjn-768x386.jpg",
"width": 768,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 386
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/Dd_dEntVQAEWhjn-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
},
"xxsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/Dd_dEntVQAEWhjn-240x121.jpg",
"width": 240,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 121
}
},
"publishDate": 1527611067,
"modified": 1527622288,
"caption": "A female fin whale washed ashore in Bolinas on May 25, now confirmed as another ship-strike victim.",
"description": "A female fin whale washed ashore in Bolinas on May 25, now confirmed as another ship-strike victim.",
"title": "Dd_dEntVQAEWhjn",
"credit": "The Marine Mammal Center/Twitter",
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"science_1923951": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "science_1923951",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1923951",
"found": true
},
"parent": 1923898,
"imgSizes": {
"small": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-520x293.jpg",
"width": 520,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 293
},
"twentyfourteen-full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-1038x576.jpg",
"width": 1038,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 576
},
"thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-160x90.jpg",
"width": 160,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 90
},
"fd-sm": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-960x540.jpg",
"width": 960,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 540
},
"post-thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 372
},
"xsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-375x211.jpg",
"width": 375,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 211
},
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2.jpg",
"width": 3840,
"height": 2160
},
"large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-1020x574.jpg",
"width": 1020,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 574
},
"xlarge": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-1180x664.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 664
},
"complete_open_graph": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-1200x675.jpg",
"width": 1200,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 675
},
"guest-author-50": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-50x50.jpg",
"width": 50,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 50
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"medium": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-800x450.jpg",
"width": 800,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 450
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"fd-lrg": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-1920x1080.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 1080
},
"fd-med": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-1180x664.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 664
},
"full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-1920x1080.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 1080
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-150x150.jpg",
"width": 150,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 150
},
"medium_large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-768x432.jpg",
"width": 768,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 432
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
},
"xxsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-phead.2-240x135.jpg",
"width": 240,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 135
}
},
"publishDate": 1526593411,
"modified": 1527184250,
"caption": "Some cone snails hunt other, smaller snails. The banded cone snail sniffs out its next meal with its breathing tube, or siphon. ",
"description": null,
"title": "DL510 phead.2",
"credit": "Josh Cassidy/KQED",
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"science_1922993": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "science_1922993",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1922993",
"found": true
},
"parent": 1922987,
"imgSizes": {
"small": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-520x293.jpg",
"width": 520,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 293
},
"twentyfourteen-full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-1038x576.jpg",
"width": 1038,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 576
},
"thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-160x90.jpg",
"width": 160,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 90
},
"fd-sm": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-960x540.jpg",
"width": 960,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 540
},
"post-thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 372
},
"xsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-375x211.jpg",
"width": 375,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 211
},
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"height": 1080
},
"large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-1020x574.jpg",
"width": 1020,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 574
},
"xlarge": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-1180x664.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 664
},
"complete_open_graph": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-1200x675.jpg",
"width": 1200,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 675
},
"guest-author-50": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-50x50.jpg",
"width": 50,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 50
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"medium": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-800x450.jpg",
"width": 800,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 450
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"fd-lrg": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-1920x1080.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 1080
},
"fd-med": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-1180x664.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 664
},
"full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-1920x1080.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 1080
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-150x150.jpg",
"width": 150,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 150
},
"medium_large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-768x432.jpg",
"width": 768,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 432
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
},
"xxsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL508-Tumbleweeds-marquee-P-head-240x135.jpg",
"width": 240,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 135
}
},
"publishDate": 1524596340,
"modified": 1524596451,
"caption": "A tumbleweed rolls across an abandoned agricultural field in Palmdale, California.",
"description": null,
"title": "DL508 Tumbleweeds marquee P-head",
"credit": "Josh Cassidy/KQED",
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"science_1922907": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "science_1922907",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1922907",
"found": true
},
"parent": 1922899,
"imgSizes": {
"small": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-520x390.jpg",
"width": 520,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 390
},
"twentyfourteen-full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-1038x576.jpg",
"width": 1038,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 576
},
"thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-160x120.jpg",
"width": 160,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 120
},
"fd-sm": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-960x720.jpg",
"width": 960,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 720
},
"post-thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 372
},
"xsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-375x281.jpg",
"width": 375,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 281
},
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce.jpg",
"width": 2500,
"height": 1875
},
"large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-1020x765.jpg",
"width": 1020,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 765
},
"xlarge": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-1180x885.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 885
},
"complete_open_graph": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-1200x900.jpg",
"width": 1200,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 900
},
"guest-author-50": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-50x50.jpg",
"width": 50,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 50
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"medium": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-800x600.jpg",
"width": 800,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 600
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"fd-lrg": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-1920x1440.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 1440
},
"fd-med": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-1180x885.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 885
},
"full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-1920x1440.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 1440
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-150x150.jpg",
"width": 150,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 150
},
"medium_large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-768x576.jpg",
"width": 768,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 576
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
},
"xxsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/lettuce-240x180.jpg",
"width": 240,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 180
}
},
"publishDate": 1524190326,
"modified": 1524190386,
"caption": "Lettuce plants grow on lettuce boards that float on water. The boards function as an assembly line with the ripe ones in the front and the newly planted ones in the back.\n",
"description": null,
"title": "lettuce",
"credit": "Bonnie Liu/KQED",
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"science_1922722": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "science_1922722",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1922722",
"found": true
},
"parent": 1922719,
"imgSizes": {
"small": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-520x347.jpg",
"width": 520,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 347
},
"twentyfourteen-full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-1038x576.jpg",
"width": 1038,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 576
},
"thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-160x107.jpg",
"width": 160,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 107
},
"fd-sm": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-960x640.jpg",
"width": 960,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 640
},
"post-thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 372
},
"xsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-375x250.jpg",
"width": 375,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 250
},
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1.jpg",
"width": 5472,
"height": 3648
},
"large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-1020x680.jpg",
"width": 1020,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 680
},
"xlarge": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-1180x787.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 787
},
"complete_open_graph": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-1200x800.jpg",
"width": 1200,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 800
},
"guest-author-50": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-50x50.jpg",
"width": 50,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 50
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"medium": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-800x533.jpg",
"width": 800,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 533
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"fd-lrg": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-1920x1280.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 1280
},
"fd-med": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-1180x787.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 787
},
"full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-1920x1280.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 1280
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-150x150.jpg",
"width": 150,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 150
},
"medium_large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-768x512.jpg",
"width": 768,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 512
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
},
"xxsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/iStock-871140828-1-240x160.jpg",
"width": 240,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 160
}
},
"publishDate": 1523966836,
"modified": 1523967152,
"caption": "In the Netherlands, the Eurasian sparrow hawk, pictured here, has been late for dinner because its prey, the blue tit, has arrived almost six days earlier than the hawk. A new global analysis on the biological timing of 88 species shows that on average species are moving out of sync, although some pairs are actually moving closer together.",
"description": null,
"title": "Sparrow hawk, Accipiter nisus",
"credit": "iStock",
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"science_1922041": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "science_1922041",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1922041",
"found": true
},
"parent": 1922038,
"imgSizes": {
"small": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05-520x293.jpg",
"width": 520,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 293
},
"twentyfourteen-full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05-1038x576.jpg",
"width": 1038,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 576
},
"thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05-160x90.jpg",
"width": 160,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 90
},
"fd-sm": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05-960x540.jpg",
"width": 960,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 540
},
"post-thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 372
},
"xsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05-375x211.jpg",
"width": 375,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 211
},
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"height": 1080
},
"large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05-1020x574.jpg",
"width": 1020,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 574
},
"xlarge": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05-1180x664.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 664
},
"guest-author-50": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05-50x50.jpg",
"width": 50,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 50
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"medium": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05-800x450.jpg",
"width": 800,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 450
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"fd-lrg": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05-1920x1080.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 1080
},
"fd-med": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05-1180x664.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 664
},
"full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05-1920x1080.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 1080
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05-150x150.jpg",
"width": 150,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 150
},
"medium_large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05-768x432.jpg",
"width": 768,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 432
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
},
"xxsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507-phead05-240x135.jpg",
"width": 240,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 135
}
},
"publishDate": 1522876434,
"modified": 1522876434,
"caption": null,
"description": null,
"title": "DL507-phead05",
"credit": null,
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"science_1922421": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "science_1922421",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1922421",
"found": true
},
"parent": 1922417,
"imgSizes": {
"small": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/RAM-FP-208-1-1600x900-520x293.jpg",
"width": 520,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 293
},
"twentyfourteen-full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/RAM-FP-208-1-1600x900-1038x576.jpg",
"width": 1038,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 576
},
"thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/RAM-FP-208-1-1600x900-160x90.jpg",
"width": 160,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 90
},
"fd-sm": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/RAM-FP-208-1-1600x900-960x540.jpg",
"width": 960,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 540
},
"post-thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/RAM-FP-208-1-1600x900-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 372
},
"xsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/RAM-FP-208-1-1600x900-375x211.jpg",
"width": 375,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 211
},
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/RAM-FP-208-1-1600x900.jpg",
"width": 1600,
"height": 900
},
"large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/RAM-FP-208-1-1600x900-1020x574.jpg",
"width": 1020,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 574
},
"xlarge": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/RAM-FP-208-1-1600x900-1180x664.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 664
},
"complete_open_graph": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/RAM-FP-208-1-1600x900-1200x675.jpg",
"width": 1200,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 675
},
"guest-author-50": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/RAM-FP-208-1-1600x900-50x50.jpg",
"width": 50,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 50
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/RAM-FP-208-1-1600x900-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"medium": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/RAM-FP-208-1-1600x900-800x450.jpg",
"width": 800,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 450
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/RAM-FP-208-1-1600x900-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/RAM-FP-208-1-1600x900-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"fd-med": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/RAM-FP-208-1-1600x900-1180x664.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 664
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/RAM-FP-208-1-1600x900-150x150.jpg",
"width": 150,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 150
},
"medium_large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/RAM-FP-208-1-1600x900-768x432.jpg",
"width": 768,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 432
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/RAM-FP-208-1-1600x900-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
},
"xxsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/RAM-FP-208-1-1600x900-240x135.jpg",
"width": 240,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 135
}
},
"publishDate": 1523561838,
"modified": 1523561893,
"caption": "George the gorilla and Dwayne \"The Rock\" Johnson in \"Rampage.\"",
"description": null,
"title": "RPG202_209.tif",
"credit": "Warner Bro.s Pictures",
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"science_1921773": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "science_1921773",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1921773",
"found": true
},
"parent": 1921659,
"imgSizes": {
"small": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE-520x293.jpg",
"width": 520,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 293
},
"twentyfourteen-full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE-1038x576.jpg",
"width": 1038,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 576
},
"thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE-160x90.jpg",
"width": 160,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 90
},
"fd-sm": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE-960x540.jpg",
"width": 960,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 540
},
"post-thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 372
},
"xsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE-375x211.jpg",
"width": 375,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 211
},
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"height": 1080
},
"large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE-1020x574.jpg",
"width": 1020,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 574
},
"xlarge": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE-1180x664.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 664
},
"guest-author-50": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE-50x50.jpg",
"width": 50,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 50
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"medium": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE-800x450.jpg",
"width": 800,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 450
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"fd-lrg": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE-1920x1080.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 1080
},
"fd-med": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE-1180x664.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 664
},
"full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE-1920x1080.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 1080
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE-150x150.jpg",
"width": 150,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 150
},
"medium_large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE-768x432.jpg",
"width": 768,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 432
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
},
"xxsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-medicinal-leech-feeding-on-Weisblat-arm-MARQUEE-240x135.jpg",
"width": 240,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 135
}
},
"publishDate": 1522180375,
"modified": 1522333404,
"caption": "A leech sucks blood from the wrist of UC Berkeley professor David Weisblat.",
"description": null,
"title": "DL506 Leeches medicinal leech feeding on Weisblat arm MARQUEE",
"credit": "Josh Cassidy/KQED",
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"science_1920975": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "science_1920975",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1920975",
"found": true
},
"parent": 1920972,
"imgSizes": {
"small": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead-520x293.jpg",
"width": 520,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 293
},
"twentyfourteen-full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead-1038x576.jpg",
"width": 1038,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 576
},
"thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead-160x90.jpg",
"width": 160,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 90
},
"fd-sm": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead-960x540.jpg",
"width": 960,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 540
},
"post-thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 372
},
"xsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead-375x211.jpg",
"width": 375,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 211
},
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"height": 1080
},
"large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead-1020x574.jpg",
"width": 1020,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 574
},
"xlarge": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead-1180x664.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 664
},
"guest-author-50": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead-50x50.jpg",
"width": 50,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 50
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"medium": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead-800x450.jpg",
"width": 800,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 450
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"fd-lrg": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead-1920x1080.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 1080
},
"fd-med": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead-1180x664.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 664
},
"full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead-1920x1080.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 1080
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead-150x150.jpg",
"width": 150,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 150
},
"medium_large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead-768x432.jpg",
"width": 768,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 432
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
},
"xxsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL505-Tick-Bite-marquee-w-Phead-240x135.jpg",
"width": 240,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 135
}
},
"publishDate": 1520884403,
"modified": 1520884464,
"caption": "A young tick has dug its mouthparts into a human arm.",
"description": null,
"title": "DL505 Tick Bite marquee w Phead",
"credit": "Josh Cassidy/KQED",
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"science_1921238": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "science_1921238",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1921238",
"found": true
},
"parent": 1921220,
"imgSizes": {
"small": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0-520x416.jpg",
"width": 520,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 416
},
"twentyfourteen-full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0-1038x576.jpg",
"width": 1038,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 576
},
"thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0-160x128.jpg",
"width": 160,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
},
"fd-sm": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0-960x768.jpg",
"width": 960,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 768
},
"post-thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 372
},
"xsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0-375x300.jpg",
"width": 375,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 300
},
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0.jpg",
"width": 6140,
"height": 4912
},
"large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0-1020x816.jpg",
"width": 1020,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 816
},
"xlarge": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0-1180x944.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 944
},
"guest-author-50": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0-50x50.jpg",
"width": 50,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 50
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"medium": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0-800x640.jpg",
"width": 800,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 640
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"fd-lrg": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0-1920x1536.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 1536
},
"fd-med": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0-1180x944.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 944
},
"full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0-1920x1536.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 1536
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0-150x150.jpg",
"width": 150,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 150
},
"medium_large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0-768x614.jpg",
"width": 768,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 614
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
},
"xxsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/jsc2015e004202_0-240x192.jpg",
"width": 240,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 192
}
},
"publishDate": 1521154524,
"modified": 1521155376,
"caption": "Astronaut Scott Kelly along with his twin brother, former Astronaut Mark Kelly speak to reporters about Scott's one-year mission aboard the International Space Station, January 19, 2015. ",
"description": null,
"title": "jsc2015e004202_0",
"credit": "NASA",
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"science_1920676": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "science_1920676",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1920676",
"found": true
},
"parent": 0,
"imgSizes": {
"small": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098-520x347.jpg",
"width": 520,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 347
},
"twentyfourteen-full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098-1038x576.jpg",
"width": 1038,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 576
},
"thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098-160x107.jpg",
"width": 160,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 107
},
"fd-sm": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098-960x641.jpg",
"width": 960,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 641
},
"post-thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 372
},
"xsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098-375x250.jpg",
"width": 375,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 250
},
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098.jpg",
"width": 5720,
"height": 3818
},
"large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098-1020x681.jpg",
"width": 1020,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 681
},
"xlarge": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098-1180x788.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 788
},
"guest-author-50": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098-50x50.jpg",
"width": 50,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 50
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"medium": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098-800x534.jpg",
"width": 800,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 534
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"fd-lrg": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098-1920x1282.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 1282
},
"fd-med": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098-1180x788.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 788
},
"full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098-1920x1282.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 1282
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098-150x150.jpg",
"width": 150,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 150
},
"medium_large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098-768x513.jpg",
"width": 768,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 513
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
},
"xxsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29708_PointReyes_098-240x160.jpg",
"width": 240,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 160
}
},
"publishDate": 1520225559,
"modified": 1520225728,
"caption": "Tule elk graze in the foreground while cattle graze in the background at Point Reyes National Seashore in February. ",
"description": null,
"title": "Point Reyes",
"credit": "Lauren Hanussak/KQED",
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"science_1919985": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "science_1919985",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1919985",
"found": true
},
"parent": 1919946,
"imgSizes": {
"small": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2-520x293.jpg",
"width": 520,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 293
},
"twentyfourteen-full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2-1038x576.jpg",
"width": 1038,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 576
},
"thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2-160x90.jpg",
"width": 160,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 90
},
"fd-sm": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2-960x540.jpg",
"width": 960,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 540
},
"post-thumbnail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 372
},
"xsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2-375x211.jpg",
"width": 375,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 211
},
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"height": 1080
},
"large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2-1020x574.jpg",
"width": 1020,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 574
},
"xlarge": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2-1180x664.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 664
},
"guest-author-50": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2-50x50.jpg",
"width": 50,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 50
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"medium": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2-800x450.jpg",
"width": 800,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 450
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"fd-lrg": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2-1920x1080.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 1080
},
"fd-med": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2-1180x664.jpg",
"width": 1180,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 664
},
"full-width": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2-1920x1080.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 1080
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2-150x150.jpg",
"width": 150,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 150
},
"medium_large": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2-768x432.jpg",
"width": 768,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 432
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
},
"xxsmall": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-phead.2-240x135.jpg",
"width": 240,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 135
}
},
"publishDate": 1518801060,
"modified": 1519080714,
"caption": "A Photuris firefly devours a Big Dipper.",
"description": null,
"title": "DL504 phead.2",
"credit": "Kevin Collins",
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
}
},
"audioPlayerReducer": {
"postId": "stream_live",
"isPaused": true,
"isPlaying": false,
"pfsActive": false,
"pledgeModalIsOpen": true,
"playerDrawerIsOpen": false,
"liveAudioPlayStartedAt": 0,
"liveAudioPlayContext": ""
},
"authorsReducer": {
"byline_science_1922899": {
"type": "authors",
"id": "byline_science_1922899",
"meta": {
"override": true
},
"slug": "byline_science_1922899",
"name": "Bonnie Liu\u003cbr>KQED Youth Takeover Staff",
"isLoading": false
},
"byline_science_1922719": {
"type": "authors",
"id": "byline_science_1922719",
"meta": {
"override": true
},
"slug": "byline_science_1922719",
"name": "Seth Borenstein\u003cbr />The Associated Press",
"isLoading": false
},
"byline_science_1922417": {
"type": "authors",
"id": "byline_science_1922417",
"meta": {
"override": true
},
"slug": "byline_science_1922417",
"name": "Megan Thielking and Andrew Joseph\u003cbr />STAT",
"isLoading": false
},
"byline_science_1921659": {
"type": "authors",
"id": "byline_science_1921659",
"meta": {
"override": true
},
"slug": "byline_science_1921659",
"name": "\u003cbr>Emma Hiolski\u003c/br>",
"isLoading": false
},
"byline_science_1920624": {
"type": "authors",
"id": "byline_science_1920624",
"meta": {
"override": true
},
"slug": "byline_science_1920624",
"name": "\u003cstrong>Molly Peterson\u003c/strong>",
"isLoading": false
},
"dclyde": {
"type": "authors",
"id": "104",
"meta": {
"index": "authors_1716337520",
"id": "104",
"found": true
},
"name": "Don Clyde",
"firstName": "Don",
"lastName": "Clyde",
"slug": "dclyde",
"email": "dclyde@kqed.org",
"display_author_email": false,
"staff_mastheads": [],
"title": "KQED Contributor",
"bio": "Don Clyde is an online producer, reporter and copy editor for KQED News. Before venturing into journalism, he worked as a medical device engineer and scientist for nearly a decade after earning a degree in physics from UC Berkeley. He loves travel, reading, living in Oakland, and most importantly, a good walk. Email him at dclyde@kqed.org or follow him @clydedon.",
"avatar": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/decd3e640c3eedbd0a574275aebb2d19?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twitter": "clydedon",
"facebook": null,
"instagram": null,
"linkedin": null,
"sites": [
{
"site": "artschool",
"roles": [
"editor"
]
},
{
"site": "news",
"roles": [
"administrator"
]
},
{
"site": "futureofyou",
"roles": [
"editor"
]
},
{
"site": "about",
"roles": [
"editor"
]
},
{
"site": "mindshift",
"roles": [
"contributor"
]
},
{
"site": "bayareabites",
"roles": [
"contributor"
]
},
{
"site": "lowdown",
"roles": [
"editor"
]
},
{
"site": "stateofhealth",
"roles": [
"administrator"
]
},
{
"site": "spark",
"roles": [
"administrator"
]
},
{
"site": "trulyca",
"roles": [
"administrator"
]
},
{
"site": "imagemakers",
"roles": [
"administrator"
]
},
{
"site": "science",
"roles": []
},
{
"site": "education",
"roles": [
"editor"
]
},
{
"site": "quest",
"roles": [
"subscriber"
]
},
{
"site": "checkplease",
"roles": [
"subscriber"
]
},
{
"site": "forum",
"roles": [
"editor"
]
},
{
"site": "perspectives",
"roles": [
"editor"
]
}
],
"headData": {
"title": "Don Clyde | KQED",
"description": "KQED Contributor",
"ogImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/decd3e640c3eedbd0a574275aebb2d19?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/decd3e640c3eedbd0a574275aebb2d19?s=600&d=blank&r=g"
},
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/author/dclyde"
},
"gabriela-quiros": {
"type": "authors",
"id": "6186",
"meta": {
"index": "authors_1716337520",
"id": "6186",
"found": true
},
"name": "Gabriela Quirós",
"firstName": "Gabriela",
"lastName": "Quirós",
"slug": "gabriela-quiros",
"email": "gquiros@kqed.org",
"display_author_email": false,
"staff_mastheads": [],
"title": "Supervising Producer",
"bio": "Gabriela Quirós is the \u003cstrong>supervising producer for KQED's web science video series \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/deeplook\">Deep Look\u003c/a>\u003c/strong>. She joined KQED as a TV producer when its science series QUEST started in 2006 and has covered everything from Alzheimer’s to bee die-offs to dark energy.\r\n\r\nShe won a 2022 AAAS Kavli Science Journalism Award with a team of her Deep Look colleagues. She has won six regional Emmys as a video producer and has shared eight more as the coordinating producer of Deep Look. The episode she produced about \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/science/728086/how-mosquitoes-use-six-needles-to-suck-your-blood\">How Mosquitoes Use Six Needles to Suck Your Blood\u003c/a> won a Webby \"People's Voice\" award. She has also earned awards from the Jackson Hole Wildlife Film Festival, the Society of Professional Journalists and the Society of Environmental Journalists.\r\n\r\nHer videos for KQED have also aired on NOVA scienceNOW and the PBS NewsHour, and appeared on NPR.org.\r\n\r\nAs an independent filmmaker, she produced and directed the hour-long documentary \u003ca href=\"http://lpbp.org/beautiful-sin-qa-with-producer-gabriela-quiros/\">\u003cem>Beautiful Sin\u003c/em>\u003c/a>, about the surprising story of how Costa Rica became the only country in the world to outlaw in vitro fertilization. The film aired in 2015 on public television stations throughout the U.S., and in Costa Rica.\r\n\r\nShe started her journalism career as a newspaper reporter in Costa Rica, where she grew up. She won the National Science Journalism Award there for a series of articles about organic agriculture, and developed a life-long interest in health reporting. She moved to the Bay Area in 1996 to study documentary filmmaking at the University of California, Berkeley, where she received master’s degrees in journalism and Latin American studies.",
"avatar": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/6d82c20152affd1b434c31a904c40809?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twitter": "gabrielaquirosr",
"facebook": null,
"instagram": null,
"linkedin": null,
"sites": [
{
"site": "science",
"roles": []
},
{
"site": "quest",
"roles": [
"ef_view_calendar",
"ef_view_story_budget"
]
}
],
"headData": {
"title": "Gabriela Quirós | KQED",
"description": "Supervising Producer",
"ogImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/6d82c20152affd1b434c31a904c40809?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/6d82c20152affd1b434c31a904c40809?s=600&d=blank&r=g"
},
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/author/gabriela-quiros"
},
"ekennerson": {
"type": "authors",
"id": "11090",
"meta": {
"index": "authors_1716337520",
"id": "11090",
"found": true
},
"name": "Elliott Kennerson",
"firstName": "Elliott",
"lastName": "Kennerson",
"slug": "ekennerson",
"email": "ekennerson@kqed.org",
"display_author_email": false,
"staff_mastheads": [],
"title": null,
"bio": "Elliott Kennerson joined KQED Science as a Digital Media Producer in 2015. Before joining KQED, he produced the Kickstarter-funded series “Animal R&R” for KPBS in San Diego. Elliott received his M.F.A. training in wildlife documentary at Montana State in Bozeman and holds a B.A. from Yale in archaeology. In his former life as an actor, he was an associate artist with LightBox Theater Company in New York. Elliott is the recipient of a 2017 Regional Emmy for his work as a producer on “Deep Look.\"",
"avatar": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/90ebfa58055409e54c8f8a4c120ecf91?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twitter": "edorank",
"facebook": null,
"instagram": null,
"linkedin": null,
"sites": [
{
"site": "science",
"roles": [
"editor"
]
}
],
"headData": {
"title": "Elliott Kennerson | KQED",
"description": null,
"ogImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/90ebfa58055409e54c8f8a4c120ecf91?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/90ebfa58055409e54c8f8a4c120ecf91?s=600&d=blank&r=g"
},
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/author/ekennerson"
},
"ninglis": {
"type": "authors",
"id": "11376",
"meta": {
"index": "authors_1716337520",
"id": "11376",
"found": true
},
"name": "Nikki Inglis",
"firstName": null,
"lastName": null,
"slug": "ninglis",
"email": "ninglis@KQED.org",
"display_author_email": false,
"staff_mastheads": [],
"title": null,
"bio": "Nikki Inglis is a graduate student in Applied Marine and Watershed Science at California State University Monterey Bay and a summer intern at KQED Science. She grew up on an organic farm in Upstate New York and received undergraduate degrees in psychology and journalism from the University of Colorado Boulder. She has worked as a reporter and editor at the Steamboat Pilot & Today and as a deckhand on fishing boats in the Sea of Cortez. When she's not studying environmental policy, she can be found mountain biking, skiing, surfing, camping and exploring California's public lands.",
"avatar": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/503f794e4c31d126adc2bdf2322264b3?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twitter": null,
"facebook": null,
"instagram": null,
"linkedin": null,
"sites": [
{
"site": "futureofyou",
"roles": [
"editor"
]
},
{
"site": "science",
"roles": [
"editor"
]
}
],
"headData": {
"title": "Nikki Inglis | KQED",
"description": null,
"ogImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/503f794e4c31d126adc2bdf2322264b3?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/503f794e4c31d126adc2bdf2322264b3?s=600&d=blank&r=g"
},
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/author/ninglis"
},
"aahmed": {
"type": "authors",
"id": "11428",
"meta": {
"index": "authors_1716337520",
"id": "11428",
"found": true
},
"name": "Amel Ahmed",
"firstName": "Amel",
"lastName": "Ahmed",
"slug": "aahmed",
"email": "aahmed@kqed.org",
"display_author_email": false,
"staff_mastheads": [],
"title": "KQED Contributor",
"bio": "Amel Ahmed is a reporter for KQED. Prior to joining KQED, Amel worked at Al Jazeera America, Al Jazeera English, Democracy Now! and Punched Productions. She also helped produce \u003cem>Changing Face of Harlem\u003c/em>, a documentary that tracked gentrification in Harlem over a period of ten years. She is a 2013 graduate of Brooklyn Law School and is currently researching war on terror prosecutions for an upcoming book.",
"avatar": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/c8b48ebc98e770640f3013c470d23f3e?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twitter": "amelscript",
"facebook": null,
"instagram": null,
"linkedin": null,
"sites": [
{
"site": "futureofyou",
"roles": []
},
{
"site": "science",
"roles": []
}
],
"headData": {
"title": "Amel Ahmed | KQED",
"description": "KQED Contributor",
"ogImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/c8b48ebc98e770640f3013c470d23f3e?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/c8b48ebc98e770640f3013c470d23f3e?s=600&d=blank&r=g"
},
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/author/aahmed"
},
"ehiolski": {
"type": "authors",
"id": "11498",
"meta": {
"index": "authors_1716337520",
"id": "11498",
"found": true
},
"name": "Emma Hiolski",
"firstName": "Emma",
"lastName": "Hiolski",
"slug": "ehiolski",
"email": "ehiolski@KQED.org",
"display_author_email": false,
"staff_mastheads": [],
"title": "KQED Contributor",
"bio": "\u003ca href=\"https://tely2.kqed.org/owa/redir.aspx?C=cajHyFkI5tvMOZaa9SQfXsW9YZQP-FZtAa9Rb7WouYMM7FMh6pjVCA..&URL=https%3a%2f%2fwww.emmahiolski.com%2f\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">Emma Hiolski\u003c/a> is a freelance science journalist and intern with KQED's \u003ca href=\"https://tely2.kqed.org/owa/redir.aspx?C=0gWIwhnRpWsnK4RIibeM4qXXxeF9egcWeW61VzyI-C0M7FMh6pjVCA..&URL=https%3a%2f%2fwww.kqed.org%2fscience%2fseries%2fdeep-look\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">Deep Look\u003c/a> video series. Her work has appeared in Science, Chemical & Engineering News and The San Jose Mercury News.",
"avatar": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/09adcb933f89287394ae2bec4091873c?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twitter": "EHiolski",
"facebook": null,
"instagram": null,
"linkedin": null,
"sites": [
{
"site": "news",
"roles": [
"author"
]
},
{
"site": "science",
"roles": []
}
],
"headData": {
"title": "Emma Hiolski | KQED",
"description": "KQED Contributor",
"ogImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/09adcb933f89287394ae2bec4091873c?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/09adcb933f89287394ae2bec4091873c?s=600&d=blank&r=g"
},
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/author/ehiolski"
}
},
"pagesReducer": {
"science_category_biology": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_30",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "30",
"score": 12.793592
},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Biology",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Biology Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 32,
"slug": "biology",
"isLoading": false,
"title": "Biology",
"pageMeta": {
"site": "science",
"WpPageTemplate": "page-topic-editorial",
"currentPage": 18
},
"blocks": [
{
"blockName": "kqed/post-list",
"attrs": {
"layout": "cardArticle2",
"query": "posts/science?category=biology",
"seeMore": false,
"paginated": true,
"page": 18
}
},
{
"blockName": "kqed/ad"
}
]
}
},
"pfsSessionReducer": {},
"postsReducer": {
"stream_live": {
"type": "live",
"id": "stream_live",
"audioUrl": "https://streams.kqed.org/kqedradio",
"title": "Live Stream",
"excerpt": "Live Stream information currently unavailable.",
"link": "/radio",
"featImg": "",
"label": {
"name": "KQED Live",
"link": "/"
}
},
"stream_kqedNewscast": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "stream_kqedNewscast",
"audioUrl": "https://www.kqed.org/.stream/anon/radio/RDnews/newscast.mp3?_=1",
"title": "KQED Newscast",
"featImg": "",
"label": {
"name": "88.5 FM",
"link": "/"
}
},
"science_1924639": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "science_1924639",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1924639",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1527622330000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1527622330,
"format": "standard",
"title": "Another Dead Whale, Another Confirmed Ship Strike",
"headTitle": "Another Dead Whale, Another Confirmed Ship Strike | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>Marine scientists confirmed over the weekend that a dead fin whale found on a Bolinas shore last week died because it was hit by a ship.[contextly_sidebar id=”XzRsxjgKDz6OxyRWWNN1PlEm4W0xPMOG”]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It’s the third whale in the Bay Area found to have died due to human causes in the past month, researchers at the Marine Mammal Center and the California Academy of Sciences said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Barbie Halaska, a researcher for the \u003ca href=\"http://www.marinemammalcenter.org/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Marine Mammal Center\u003c/a>, said the fin whale is endangered.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Nobody wants to hit these guys,” Halaska said. “I mean, they’re amazing creatures, and it’s all accidents. It’s just that we’re all using the same ocean and we need to figure out how we can all use this ocean together and all survive from it.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Researchers say ship strikes and entanglement in fishing gear are \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/science/1715680/can-song-loving-robots-help-save-whales-from-ships\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">the leading causes\u003c/a> of whale mortality, especially during migration periods.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“This whale, and the one that washed ashore in the Oakland Estuary the week before, were both female and in their reproductive years,” Halaska said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1924575\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1924575\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/ww2.kqed_.orgDeadWhale-800x458-9bb073adc1691fb249e14032f97fa938c0101e78.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"458\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A whale carcass is towed out of the Oakland estuary near Jack London Square on Friday.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Scientists found \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/news/11669242/two-whales-found-dead-in-bay-area\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">two dead whales in the Bay Area on May 18\u003c/a> — one a fin whale at Oakland’s waterfront and the other a gray whale at Tennessee Valley Beach in Marin.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The whale found in Oakland was partially submerged in an estuary near Jack London Square, and was determined to have been killed by a ship strike. The whale at Tennessee Valley Beach showed indication that entanglement was responsible for its death.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Those carcasses were the fourth and fifth, respectively, to be found in the Bay this year by the Marine Mammal Center, which rescues animals along 600 miles of state coastline.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Through March of this year, nine dead whales have been found along the California coastline, according to data from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. Last year there were 24 dead whales found in total.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>KQED’s Billy Cruz and Muna Danish contributed to this report.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 355,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 13
},
"modified": 1704927875,
"excerpt": "It's the third whale in the past month found to have died in the Bay Area from human causes.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "It's the third whale in the past month found to have died in the Bay Area from human causes.",
"title": "Another Dead Whale, Another Confirmed Ship Strike | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Another Dead Whale, Another Confirmed Ship Strike",
"datePublished": "2018-05-29T12:32:10-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-10T15:04:35-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "another-dead-whale-another-confirmed-ship-strike",
"status": "publish",
"sticky": false,
"source": "Oceans",
"path": "/science/1924639/another-dead-whale-another-confirmed-ship-strike",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Marine scientists confirmed over the weekend that a dead fin whale found on a Bolinas shore last week died because it was hit by a ship.\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It’s the third whale in the Bay Area found to have died due to human causes in the past month, researchers at the Marine Mammal Center and the California Academy of Sciences said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Barbie Halaska, a researcher for the \u003ca href=\"http://www.marinemammalcenter.org/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Marine Mammal Center\u003c/a>, said the fin whale is endangered.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Nobody wants to hit these guys,” Halaska said. “I mean, they’re amazing creatures, and it’s all accidents. It’s just that we’re all using the same ocean and we need to figure out how we can all use this ocean together and all survive from it.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Researchers say ship strikes and entanglement in fishing gear are \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/science/1715680/can-song-loving-robots-help-save-whales-from-ships\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">the leading causes\u003c/a> of whale mortality, especially during migration periods.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“This whale, and the one that washed ashore in the Oakland Estuary the week before, were both female and in their reproductive years,” Halaska said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1924575\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1924575\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/ww2.kqed_.orgDeadWhale-800x458-9bb073adc1691fb249e14032f97fa938c0101e78.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"458\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A whale carcass is towed out of the Oakland estuary near Jack London Square on Friday.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Scientists found \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/news/11669242/two-whales-found-dead-in-bay-area\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">two dead whales in the Bay Area on May 18\u003c/a> — one a fin whale at Oakland’s waterfront and the other a gray whale at Tennessee Valley Beach in Marin.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The whale found in Oakland was partially submerged in an estuary near Jack London Square, and was determined to have been killed by a ship strike. The whale at Tennessee Valley Beach showed indication that entanglement was responsible for its death.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Those carcasses were the fourth and fifth, respectively, to be found in the Bay this year by the Marine Mammal Center, which rescues animals along 600 miles of state coastline.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Through March of this year, nine dead whales have been found along the California coastline, according to data from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. Last year there were 24 dead whales found in total.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>KQED’s Billy Cruz and Muna Danish contributed to this report.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/science/1924639/another-dead-whale-another-confirmed-ship-strike",
"authors": [
"104"
],
"categories": [
"science_2874",
"science_30",
"science_40",
"science_2873"
],
"tags": [
"science_255"
],
"featImg": "science_1924642",
"label": "source_science_1924639"
},
"science_1923898": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "science_1923898",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1923898",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1527598836000
]
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "watch-these-snails-stab-fish-and-swallow-them-whole",
"title": "Watch These Cunning Snails Stab and Swallow Fish Whole",
"publishDate": 1527598836,
"format": "video",
"headTitle": "Watch These Cunning Snails Stab and Swallow Fish Whole | KQED",
"labelTerm": {
"term": 1935,
"site": "science"
},
"content": "\u003cp>[dl_subscribe]It might be time to rethink the phrase “moving at a snail’s pace.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>New research shows that cone snails — ocean-dwelling mollusks known for their brightly colored shells — attack their prey faster than almost any member of the animal kingdom.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>There are hundreds of species of these normally slow-moving hunters found in oceans across the world. They take down fish, worms and other snails using a hollow, harpoonlike tooth that acts like a spear and a hypodermic needle. When they impale their prey, cone snails inject a chemical cocktail that subdues their meal and gives them time to dine at their leisure.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923952\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-1923952\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-1200x675.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-1920x1080.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The sting of some cone snail species, such as this “geography” cone, can be lethal to humans. \u003ccite>(Elliott Kennerson/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>It’s the way they shoot the harpoons that amazes researchers. Cone snails launch their harpoons so quickly that scientists were previously unable to capture the movement on camera, making it impossible to calculate just how speedy these snails are. Now, using super-high-speed video, researchers have filmed the full flight of the harpoon for the first time.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It’s not quite as simple as pointing a camera at a snail, however.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Joseph Schulz, a biologist at Occidental College in Los Angeles, studies the biomechanics of how cone snails fire their harpoons, and led the efforts to document the phenomenon.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Schulz’s team used cat cones, a small, fish-hunting species of cone snail with shells about 1 to 2 inches long. Their hunting appendage — a fleshy, extendable tube called a proboscis — is translucent, like frosted glass. That allowed the scientists to view the harpoon, which rests within the proboscis, and film its movement.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>To record the harpoon-firing process, the researchers had to train the cone snails to extend their proboscis down a heavily illuminated trough and shoot the harpoonlike tooth into a fish-scented membrane at the far end.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923967\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-1923967\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-800x83.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"83\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-800x83.png 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-160x17.png 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-768x80.png 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-1020x106.png 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-1200x124.png 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-1920x199.png 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-1180x122.png 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-960x99.png 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-240x25.png 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-375x39.png 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-520x54.png 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Optical micrograph of the barbed, hollow harpoon of Conus bandanus, a cone snail that lives in the Indian Ocean. \u003ccite>(Courtesy Manuel Jimenez Tenorio, Universidad de Cádiz)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“It’s not like a movie of a hummingbird wingbeat,” Schulz said. “We had to pass enough light through the proboscis to highlight the tooth.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The lighting was so bright that the scientists had to wear sunglasses during the experiments, he added.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The team started the high-speed filming using a recording speed of 8,000 frames per second. But it couldn’t match the speed of the cone snail strike. They had to bump the frame rate all the way up to 58,000 frames per second to fully capture the harpoon’s movement.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>By comparison, slow-motion replays in baseball and football games are usually filmed at 500 frames per second, said Toni Lucatorto, a product manager with Vision Research, the company that manufactures the high-speed camera that Schulz and his colleagues use.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923954\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 720px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510_bw-harpoon-fish-labels_720-1.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1923954\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510_bw-harpoon-fish-labels_720-1.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"720\" height=\"405\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Using high-speed cameras, scientists have been able to document the speed of the cone snail’s attack. \u003ccite>(Courtesy Joseph Schulz, Occidental College)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>From start to finish, the harpoon’s flight takes less than 200 microseconds. That’s one five-thousandth of a second. It launches with an acceleration equivalent to a bullet fired from a pistol.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This puts the cone snail in fine company, roughly equal to the acceleration with which trap-jaw ants snap their mandibles shut and mantis shrimp strike prey with their smashing arms. The team is finalizing measurements and calculations for an upcoming scientific publication.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So how do these sedentary snails pull off such a high-octane feat? Hydrostatic pressure — the pressure from fluid — builds within the half of the snail’s proboscis closest to its body, locked behind a tight O-ring of muscle. When it comes time to strike, the muscle relaxes, and the venom-laced fluid punches into the harpoon’s bulbous base. This pressure launches the harpoon out into the snail’s unsuspecting prey.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As fast as the harpoon launches, it comes to an even more abrupt stop. The base of the harpoon gets caught at the end of the proboscis so that the snail can reel in its meal.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923957\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-1923957\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-1200x675.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-1920x1080.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Cone snail shells harbor an array of appendages, including a breathing tube or siphon (top), a proboscis (middle), and eyes (lower right). \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>The high-speed action doesn’t stop with the harpoon. Cone snail venom acts fast, subduing fish in as little as a few seconds. The venom is filled with unique molecules, broadly referred to as conotoxins.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Individual snails can produce up to 1,000 different venom components, according to Frank Marí, a biochemist with the National Institute of Standards and Technology in Charleston, South Carolina.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Marí studies the chemicals produced by marine organisms, with a particular focus on cone snails and conotoxins. Many cone snails are venomous, he said, which sets them apart from other mollusks.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The composition of cone snail venom varies from species to species, and even between individuals of the same species, creating a library of potential new drugs that researchers are eager to mine. In combination, these chemicals work together to rapidly paralyze a cone snail’s prey. Individually, some molecules from cone snail venom can provide non-opioid pain relief, and could potentially treat Parkinson’s disease or cancer, Marí said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“You have a huge library of potential compounds that have medicinal purposes, and we’ve barely touched the tip of the iceberg,” he said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>To collect venom from the snails in his lab, Marí has trained them to fire their harpoons through a film and inject venom into a small tube. Schulz also “milks” cone snails in his lab the same way.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923906\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-1923906\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-1200x675.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Cone snails can extend their proboscis up to several times their body length. Specialized sensors on the end of the proboscis help the snail close in on its next meal. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Schulz focuses on a group of cone snail compounds called neuroexcitatory peptides. These are small molecules that activate cells in the nervous system. Understanding how they function could someday be useful in treating spinal cord injuries by getting neurons more active, he said, or treating conditions in which the muscles that move food through the digestive tract stop working properly.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And, as researchers learn more about these peptides, there may be applications that they hadn’t imagined, Schulz said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Even though cone snails have been studied for decades now, there’s still a lot to be learned,” he said.\u003c/p>\n\u003caside>\n\u003ch3>Become a patron of science: support more episodes of Deep Look\u003c/h3>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"https://www.patreon.com/deeplook\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter size-medium wp-image-1923358\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-800x187.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"187\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-800x187.png 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-160x37.png 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-768x179.png 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-1020x238.png 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-1200x280.png 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-1920x448.png 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-1180x275.png 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-960x224.png 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-240x56.png 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-375x88.png 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-520x121.png 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"https://www.patreon.com/deeplook\">\u003cem>Deep Look\u003c/em> is now on Patreon\u003c/a>.If you love our show, you can kick in a little – or a lot – each month so we can do incredible things as a \u003cem>Deep Look\u003c/em> community. \u003ca href=\"https://www.patreon.com/deeplook\">Learn More\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003c/aside>\n\n",
"blocks": [],
"excerpt": "Cone snails have an arsenal under their shells. They nab prey in just microseconds and eat them alive.",
"status": "publish",
"parent": 0,
"modified": 1738969676,
"stats": {
"hasAudio": false,
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"paragraphCount": 28,
"wordCount": 1171
},
"headData": {
"title": "Watch These Cunning Snails Stab and Swallow Fish Whole | KQED",
"description": "Cone snails have an arsenal under their shells. They nab prey in just microseconds and eat them alive.",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogDescription": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"twDescription": "",
"twImgId": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Watch These Cunning Snails Stab and Swallow Fish Whole",
"datePublished": "2018-05-29T06:00:36-07:00",
"dateModified": "2025-02-07T15:07:56-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"videoEmbed": "https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jYMjLgPFSso",
"pbsMediaId": "3015706938",
"sticky": false,
"WpOldSlug": "__trashed-9",
"excludeFromSiteSearch": "Include",
"articleAge": "0",
"path": "/science/1923898/watch-these-snails-stab-fish-and-swallow-them-whole",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "dl_subscribe",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": ""
},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>It might be time to rethink the phrase “moving at a snail’s pace.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>New research shows that cone snails — ocean-dwelling mollusks known for their brightly colored shells — attack their prey faster than almost any member of the animal kingdom.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>There are hundreds of species of these normally slow-moving hunters found in oceans across the world. They take down fish, worms and other snails using a hollow, harpoonlike tooth that acts like a spear and a hypodermic needle. When they impale their prey, cone snails inject a chemical cocktail that subdues their meal and gives them time to dine at their leisure.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923952\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-1923952\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-1200x675.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-1920x1080.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-geography-cone-CC-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The sting of some cone snail species, such as this “geography” cone, can be lethal to humans. \u003ccite>(Elliott Kennerson/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>It’s the way they shoot the harpoons that amazes researchers. Cone snails launch their harpoons so quickly that scientists were previously unable to capture the movement on camera, making it impossible to calculate just how speedy these snails are. Now, using super-high-speed video, researchers have filmed the full flight of the harpoon for the first time.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It’s not quite as simple as pointing a camera at a snail, however.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Joseph Schulz, a biologist at Occidental College in Los Angeles, studies the biomechanics of how cone snails fire their harpoons, and led the efforts to document the phenomenon.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Schulz’s team used cat cones, a small, fish-hunting species of cone snail with shells about 1 to 2 inches long. Their hunting appendage — a fleshy, extendable tube called a proboscis — is translucent, like frosted glass. That allowed the scientists to view the harpoon, which rests within the proboscis, and film its movement.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>To record the harpoon-firing process, the researchers had to train the cone snails to extend their proboscis down a heavily illuminated trough and shoot the harpoonlike tooth into a fish-scented membrane at the far end.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923967\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-1923967\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-800x83.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"83\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-800x83.png 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-160x17.png 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-768x80.png 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-1020x106.png 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-1200x124.png 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-1920x199.png 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-1180x122.png 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-960x99.png 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-240x25.png 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-375x39.png 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/bandanus_tooth1-520x54.png 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Optical micrograph of the barbed, hollow harpoon of Conus bandanus, a cone snail that lives in the Indian Ocean. \u003ccite>(Courtesy Manuel Jimenez Tenorio, Universidad de Cádiz)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“It’s not like a movie of a hummingbird wingbeat,” Schulz said. “We had to pass enough light through the proboscis to highlight the tooth.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The lighting was so bright that the scientists had to wear sunglasses during the experiments, he added.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The team started the high-speed filming using a recording speed of 8,000 frames per second. But it couldn’t match the speed of the cone snail strike. They had to bump the frame rate all the way up to 58,000 frames per second to fully capture the harpoon’s movement.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>By comparison, slow-motion replays in baseball and football games are usually filmed at 500 frames per second, said Toni Lucatorto, a product manager with Vision Research, the company that manufactures the high-speed camera that Schulz and his colleagues use.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923954\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 720px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510_bw-harpoon-fish-labels_720-1.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1923954\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510_bw-harpoon-fish-labels_720-1.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"720\" height=\"405\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Using high-speed cameras, scientists have been able to document the speed of the cone snail’s attack. \u003ccite>(Courtesy Joseph Schulz, Occidental College)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>From start to finish, the harpoon’s flight takes less than 200 microseconds. That’s one five-thousandth of a second. It launches with an acceleration equivalent to a bullet fired from a pistol.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This puts the cone snail in fine company, roughly equal to the acceleration with which trap-jaw ants snap their mandibles shut and mantis shrimp strike prey with their smashing arms. The team is finalizing measurements and calculations for an upcoming scientific publication.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So how do these sedentary snails pull off such a high-octane feat? Hydrostatic pressure — the pressure from fluid — builds within the half of the snail’s proboscis closest to its body, locked behind a tight O-ring of muscle. When it comes time to strike, the muscle relaxes, and the venom-laced fluid punches into the harpoon’s bulbous base. This pressure launches the harpoon out into the snail’s unsuspecting prey.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As fast as the harpoon launches, it comes to an even more abrupt stop. The base of the harpoon gets caught at the end of the proboscis so that the snail can reel in its meal.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923957\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-1923957\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-1200x675.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-1920x1080.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-siphon-proboscis-eye-CC-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Cone snail shells harbor an array of appendages, including a breathing tube or siphon (top), a proboscis (middle), and eyes (lower right). \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>The high-speed action doesn’t stop with the harpoon. Cone snail venom acts fast, subduing fish in as little as a few seconds. The venom is filled with unique molecules, broadly referred to as conotoxins.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Individual snails can produce up to 1,000 different venom components, according to Frank Marí, a biochemist with the National Institute of Standards and Technology in Charleston, South Carolina.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Marí studies the chemicals produced by marine organisms, with a particular focus on cone snails and conotoxins. Many cone snails are venomous, he said, which sets them apart from other mollusks.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The composition of cone snail venom varies from species to species, and even between individuals of the same species, creating a library of potential new drugs that researchers are eager to mine. In combination, these chemicals work together to rapidly paralyze a cone snail’s prey. Individually, some molecules from cone snail venom can provide non-opioid pain relief, and could potentially treat Parkinson’s disease or cancer, Marí said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“You have a huge library of potential compounds that have medicinal purposes, and we’ve barely touched the tip of the iceberg,” he said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>To collect venom from the snails in his lab, Marí has trained them to fire their harpoons through a film and inject venom into a small tube. Schulz also “milks” cone snails in his lab the same way.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923906\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-1923906\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-1200x675.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL510-long-proboscis-with-taste-buds-CC_1920-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Cone snails can extend their proboscis up to several times their body length. Specialized sensors on the end of the proboscis help the snail close in on its next meal. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Schulz focuses on a group of cone snail compounds called neuroexcitatory peptides. These are small molecules that activate cells in the nervous system. Understanding how they function could someday be useful in treating spinal cord injuries by getting neurons more active, he said, or treating conditions in which the muscles that move food through the digestive tract stop working properly.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And, as researchers learn more about these peptides, there may be applications that they hadn’t imagined, Schulz said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "floatright"
},
"numeric": [
"floatright"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Even though cone snails have been studied for decades now, there’s still a lot to be learned,” he said.\u003c/p>\n\u003caside>\n\u003ch3>Become a patron of science: support more episodes of Deep Look\u003c/h3>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"https://www.patreon.com/deeplook\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter size-medium wp-image-1923358\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-800x187.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"187\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-800x187.png 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-160x37.png 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-768x179.png 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-1020x238.png 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-1200x280.png 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-1920x448.png 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-1180x275.png 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-960x224.png 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-240x56.png 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-375x88.png 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL-patreon-make-gift-520x121.png 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"https://www.patreon.com/deeplook\">\u003cem>Deep Look\u003c/em> is now on Patreon\u003c/a>.If you love our show, you can kick in a little – or a lot – each month so we can do incredible things as a \u003cem>Deep Look\u003c/em> community. \u003ca href=\"https://www.patreon.com/deeplook\">Learn More\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003c/aside>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/science/1923898/watch-these-snails-stab-fish-and-swallow-them-whole",
"authors": [
"11498"
],
"series": [
"science_1935"
],
"categories": [
"science_2874",
"science_30",
"science_86"
],
"tags": [
"science_1970"
],
"featImg": "science_1923951",
"label": "science_1935"
},
"science_1922987": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "science_1922987",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1922987",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1525179623000
]
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "why-do-tumbleweeds-tumble",
"title": "Why Do Tumbleweeds Tumble?",
"publishDate": 1525179623,
"format": "video",
"headTitle": "Why Do Tumbleweeds Tumble? | KQED",
"labelTerm": {
"term": 1935,
"site": "science"
},
"content": "\u003cp>[dl_subscribe]Tumbleweeds might be the iconic props of classic Westerns. But in real life, they’re not only a noxious weed, but one that moves around. As they roll and bounce, pushed by gusts of wind, \u003ca href=\"http://www.vvdailypress.com/news/20180416/tumbleweed-takeover-high-winds-leave-neighborhood-overrun\">they can overwhelm entire neighborhoods, \u003c/a>as happened recently in Victorville, California, or become a threat for drivers and an expensive nuisance for farmers.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“They tumble across highways and can cause accidents,” said Mike Pitcairn, who tracks tumbleweeds at the California Department of Food and Agriculture in Sacramento. “They pile up against fences and homes.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923099\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 500px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_ROLLS_NEXT_TO_FREEWAY.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1923099\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_ROLLS_NEXT_TO_FREEWAY.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"500\" height=\"281\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A tumbleweed rolled in an abandoned agricultural field next to the freeway in Palmdale, California, in February. When they blow into the road, tumbleweeds pose a threat to drivers, who might swerve to avoid them and get into an accident. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>And tumbleweeds aren’t even originally from California, or the West for that matter.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“It’s been around a long time. You think it must be native,” said Pitcairn. “But its common name is Russian thistle.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Genetic tests have shown that California’s most common tumbleweed, known as Russian thistle, likely came from Ukraine, said retired plant population biologist Debra Ayres, who studied tumbleweeds at the University of California, Davis.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>A U.S. Department of Agriculture employee, L. H. Dewey, wrote in 1893 that Russian thistle had arrived in the U.S. through South Dakota in flaxseed imported from Europe in the 1870s.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“It has been known in Russia many years,” Dewey wrote, “and has quite as bad a reputation in the wheat regions there as it has in the Dakotas.” This is where the name Russian thistle originates, said Ayres, although tumbleweeds aren’t really thistles.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923102\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1923102\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1080\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED-1200x675.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Tumbleweeds are known by the common name Russian thistle, although they’re not thistles. In the late fall and winter, Russian thistle plants dry out. The structure that looks like a dried-out flower is a seed. As tumbleweeds tumble, their seeds fall off at a distance from each other. This gives each one sunlight and space to grow. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>By the end of the 1800s, Russian thistle had arrived in Southern California’s Antelope Valley and Bakersfield. The weed spread quickly through the United States — on rail cars and through contamination of agricultural seeds. And by tumbling.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“They tumble to disperse the seeds,” said Ayres, “and thereby reduce competition.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>By bouncing and rolling in the wind, a tumbleweed spreads out tens of thousands of seeds so that they all get plenty of sunlight and space.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923103\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1923103\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1080\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE-1200x675.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Tumbleweeds cover an abandoned agricultural field in Palmdale, California. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Tumbleweeds grow well in barren places like abandoned agricultural fields, vacant lots or the side of the road, where they can tumble unobstructed and there’s no grass, which their seedlings can’t compete with.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Grass has nutritive tissue — what bread is made from — to sustain the seedling until it gets its leaves up, while the tumbleweed does not,” said Ayres. “Also, many grasses germinate in the fall and are already up and thick by the time the tumbleweed germinates.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Tumbleweeds start out as any plant, attached to the soil. Seedlings, which look like blades of grass with a bright pink stem, sprout at the end of the winter.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923107\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1923107\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1080\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920-1200x675.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Tiny Russian thistle seedlings grow in a vacant lot in Davis, California, in February. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>By summer, Russian thistle plants take on their round shape and grow white, yellow or pink flowers between thorny leaves. Inside each flower, a fruit with a single seed develops.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Other plants attract animals with sweet, tasty fruits, and get them to carry away their seeds in their stomachs and disperse them when they defecate.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Tumbleweeds developed a different evolutionary strategy.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Starting in late fall, they dry out and die, their seeds nestled between prickly dried leaves. Gusts of wind easily break dead tumbleweeds from their roots. A microscopic layer of cells at the base of the plant — called the abscission layer — makes a clean break possible and the plants roll away, spreading their seeds. When the rains come, an embryo coiled up inside each seed sprouts.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923104\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1923104\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1080\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO-1200x675.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Each tumbleweed seed contains an embryo like this one. When it gets a little water, the embryo will uncoil and grow into the soil. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Tumbleweeds cause a host of problems in California, where they’re found throughout the state. In places like the southern San Joaquin Valley they can grow to be more than 6 feet tall, said Pitcairn.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Unsuspecting motorists tend to swerve when a 6-foot plant comes tumbling across the road,” he said, “and many times end up in an accident.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>To prevent this from happening, California Department of Transportation crews use pitchforks to pluck tumbleweeds from the ground and toss them into large compactor trash trucks, said Cathryne Bruce-Johnson, Caltrans public information officer in San Diego.\u003c/p>\n\u003caside class=\"pullquote alignright\">\u003cstrong>“Unsuspecting motorists tend to swerve when a 6-foot plant comes tumbling across the road.”\u003c/strong> Mike Pitcairn, California Department of Food and Agriculture\u003c/aside>\n\u003cp>Tumbleweeds can also pile up against buildings and become a fire hazard. That’s what happened the morning of April 16 in Victorville, northeast of Los Angeles, when 60 mph winds pushed hundreds of them into a neighborhood that borders undeveloped land in the Mojave Desert.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“It happened very quickly,” said Sue Jones, public information officer for the city.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Tumbleweeds piled up so high that they reached the second floors and blocked the entrances to about 100 homes, and also covered the baseball diamond at a nearby park, she said. It took 36 city workers well into the night to clear them out.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In many western states, Russian thistle is an agricultural weed and farmers have to spray it when it grows among their crops. That’s a bigger concern in Oregon, Washington and Idaho than in California, said Pitcairn. In California, tumbleweeds clog sprinklers and irrigation canals. And they also harbor agricultural pests when they’re green.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923106\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1923106\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1080\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920-1200x675.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Tumbleweeds caught on a sprinkler system in Palmdale, California, in February. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>In the spring and fall, the California Department of Food and Agriculture sprays insecticides on green Russian thistle in the Central Valley and surrounding foothills to get rid of the beet leafhopper. The insect can transmit the curly top virus, which damages crops such as sugar beets, tomatoes, melons, cucumbers, peppers, squash, spinach and beans, said Pitcairn. Spraying costs several million dollars each year, which comes from fees paid by vegetable growers, he said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The beet leafhopper lives in Russian thistle because it’s one of the few plants that stays green in the fall in the foothills of California’s Central Valley.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923110\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1923110\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1080\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920-1200x675.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">When it’s green, a Russian thistle plant, like this one in Woodland, California, can harbor the beet leafhopper, which carries a virus that damages sugar beets, tomatoes, peppers and other crops. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“They lay eggs inside the plant tissue,” said Jennifer Willems, an environmental scientist at the Department of Food and Agriculture in Fresno. “They pierce the soft parts of the plant — the leaves — and suck the juice out.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In the cities of Palmdale and Lancaster, tumbleweeds are such a big problem that Los Angeles County spends $100,000 to $150,000 yearly mowing and chipping dried-out Russian thistle in vacant lots and abandoned agricultural fields before they can tumble away, said Ariel Verayo, deputy agricultural commissioner at the county’s weed abatement division in Lancaster.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Tumbleweeds blow into alfalfa fields and need to be cleared out before the alfalfa is harvested. Alfalfa is cattle feed, and cows won’t eat prickly tumbleweeds, Verayo said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>One alfalfa farmer earlier this year found a creative use for tumbleweeds after clearing them off his field. He packed them into rectangular bales and told Verayo he planned to use the bales for bow and arrow target practice.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That’s one way of making sure tumbleweeds no longer tumble.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"blocks": [],
"excerpt": "The iconic prop of classic Westerns is a plant on a mission. And it doesn't come from the West at all. ",
"status": "publish",
"parent": 0,
"modified": 1738969842,
"stats": {
"hasAudio": false,
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"paragraphCount": 33,
"wordCount": 1377
},
"headData": {
"title": "Why Do Tumbleweeds Tumble? | KQED",
"description": "The iconic prop of classic Westerns is a plant on a mission. And it doesn't come from the West at all. ",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogDescription": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"twDescription": "",
"twImgId": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Why Do Tumbleweeds Tumble?",
"datePublished": "2018-05-01T06:00:23-07:00",
"dateModified": "2025-02-07T15:10:42-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"videoEmbed": "https://youtu.be/dATZsuPdOnM",
"pbsMediaId": "3015706381",
"sticky": false,
"excludeFromSiteSearch": "Include",
"articleAge": "0",
"path": "/science/1922987/why-do-tumbleweeds-tumble",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "dl_subscribe",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": ""
},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>Tumbleweeds might be the iconic props of classic Westerns. But in real life, they’re not only a noxious weed, but one that moves around. As they roll and bounce, pushed by gusts of wind, \u003ca href=\"http://www.vvdailypress.com/news/20180416/tumbleweed-takeover-high-winds-leave-neighborhood-overrun\">they can overwhelm entire neighborhoods, \u003c/a>as happened recently in Victorville, California, or become a threat for drivers and an expensive nuisance for farmers.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“They tumble across highways and can cause accidents,” said Mike Pitcairn, who tracks tumbleweeds at the California Department of Food and Agriculture in Sacramento. “They pile up against fences and homes.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923099\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 500px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_ROLLS_NEXT_TO_FREEWAY.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1923099\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_ROLLS_NEXT_TO_FREEWAY.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"500\" height=\"281\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A tumbleweed rolled in an abandoned agricultural field next to the freeway in Palmdale, California, in February. When they blow into the road, tumbleweeds pose a threat to drivers, who might swerve to avoid them and get into an accident. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>And tumbleweeds aren’t even originally from California, or the West for that matter.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“It’s been around a long time. You think it must be native,” said Pitcairn. “But its common name is Russian thistle.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Genetic tests have shown that California’s most common tumbleweed, known as Russian thistle, likely came from Ukraine, said retired plant population biologist Debra Ayres, who studied tumbleweeds at the University of California, Davis.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>A U.S. Department of Agriculture employee, L. H. Dewey, wrote in 1893 that Russian thistle had arrived in the U.S. through South Dakota in flaxseed imported from Europe in the 1870s.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“It has been known in Russia many years,” Dewey wrote, “and has quite as bad a reputation in the wheat regions there as it has in the Dakotas.” This is where the name Russian thistle originates, said Ayres, although tumbleweeds aren’t really thistles.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923102\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1923102\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1080\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED-1200x675.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_SEEDS_ON_DRIED_TUMBLEWEED-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Tumbleweeds are known by the common name Russian thistle, although they’re not thistles. In the late fall and winter, Russian thistle plants dry out. The structure that looks like a dried-out flower is a seed. As tumbleweeds tumble, their seeds fall off at a distance from each other. This gives each one sunlight and space to grow. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>By the end of the 1800s, Russian thistle had arrived in Southern California’s Antelope Valley and Bakersfield. The weed spread quickly through the United States — on rail cars and through contamination of agricultural seeds. And by tumbling.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“They tumble to disperse the seeds,” said Ayres, “and thereby reduce competition.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>By bouncing and rolling in the wind, a tumbleweed spreads out tens of thousands of seeds so that they all get plenty of sunlight and space.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923103\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1923103\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1080\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE-1200x675.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_IN_ABANDONED_FIELD_PALMDALE-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Tumbleweeds cover an abandoned agricultural field in Palmdale, California. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Tumbleweeds grow well in barren places like abandoned agricultural fields, vacant lots or the side of the road, where they can tumble unobstructed and there’s no grass, which their seedlings can’t compete with.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Grass has nutritive tissue — what bread is made from — to sustain the seedling until it gets its leaves up, while the tumbleweed does not,” said Ayres. “Also, many grasses germinate in the fall and are already up and thick by the time the tumbleweed germinates.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Tumbleweeds start out as any plant, attached to the soil. Seedlings, which look like blades of grass with a bright pink stem, sprout at the end of the winter.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923107\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1923107\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1080\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920-1200x675.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_RUSSIAN_THISTLE_SEEDLINGS_1920-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Tiny Russian thistle seedlings grow in a vacant lot in Davis, California, in February. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>By summer, Russian thistle plants take on their round shape and grow white, yellow or pink flowers between thorny leaves. Inside each flower, a fruit with a single seed develops.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Other plants attract animals with sweet, tasty fruits, and get them to carry away their seeds in their stomachs and disperse them when they defecate.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Tumbleweeds developed a different evolutionary strategy.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Starting in late fall, they dry out and die, their seeds nestled between prickly dried leaves. Gusts of wind easily break dead tumbleweeds from their roots. A microscopic layer of cells at the base of the plant — called the abscission layer — makes a clean break possible and the plants roll away, spreading their seeds. When the rains come, an embryo coiled up inside each seed sprouts.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923104\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1923104\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1080\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO-1200x675.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEED_EMBRYO-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Each tumbleweed seed contains an embryo like this one. When it gets a little water, the embryo will uncoil and grow into the soil. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Tumbleweeds cause a host of problems in California, where they’re found throughout the state. In places like the southern San Joaquin Valley they can grow to be more than 6 feet tall, said Pitcairn.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Unsuspecting motorists tend to swerve when a 6-foot plant comes tumbling across the road,” he said, “and many times end up in an accident.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>To prevent this from happening, California Department of Transportation crews use pitchforks to pluck tumbleweeds from the ground and toss them into large compactor trash trucks, said Cathryne Bruce-Johnson, Caltrans public information officer in San Diego.\u003c/p>\n\u003caside class=\"pullquote alignright\">\u003cstrong>“Unsuspecting motorists tend to swerve when a 6-foot plant comes tumbling across the road.”\u003c/strong> Mike Pitcairn, California Department of Food and Agriculture\u003c/aside>\n\u003cp>Tumbleweeds can also pile up against buildings and become a fire hazard. That’s what happened the morning of April 16 in Victorville, northeast of Los Angeles, when 60 mph winds pushed hundreds of them into a neighborhood that borders undeveloped land in the Mojave Desert.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“It happened very quickly,” said Sue Jones, public information officer for the city.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Tumbleweeds piled up so high that they reached the second floors and blocked the entrances to about 100 homes, and also covered the baseball diamond at a nearby park, she said. It took 36 city workers well into the night to clear them out.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In many western states, Russian thistle is an agricultural weed and farmers have to spray it when it grows among their crops. That’s a bigger concern in Oregon, Washington and Idaho than in California, said Pitcairn. In California, tumbleweeds clog sprinklers and irrigation canals. And they also harbor agricultural pests when they’re green.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923106\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1923106\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1080\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920-1200x675.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweed_TUMBLEWEEDS_ON_IRRIGATION_SYSTEM_PALMDALE_1920-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Tumbleweeds caught on a sprinkler system in Palmdale, California, in February. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>In the spring and fall, the California Department of Food and Agriculture sprays insecticides on green Russian thistle in the Central Valley and surrounding foothills to get rid of the beet leafhopper. The insect can transmit the curly top virus, which damages crops such as sugar beets, tomatoes, melons, cucumbers, peppers, squash, spinach and beans, said Pitcairn. Spraying costs several million dollars each year, which comes from fees paid by vegetable growers, he said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The beet leafhopper lives in Russian thistle because it’s one of the few plants that stays green in the fall in the foothills of California’s Central Valley.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1923110\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1923110\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1080\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920-1200x675.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/05/DL_508Tumbleweeds_GREEN_TUMBLEWEED_WOODLAND_1920-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">When it’s green, a Russian thistle plant, like this one in Woodland, California, can harbor the beet leafhopper, which carries a virus that damages sugar beets, tomatoes, peppers and other crops. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“They lay eggs inside the plant tissue,” said Jennifer Willems, an environmental scientist at the Department of Food and Agriculture in Fresno. “They pierce the soft parts of the plant — the leaves — and suck the juice out.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In the cities of Palmdale and Lancaster, tumbleweeds are such a big problem that Los Angeles County spends $100,000 to $150,000 yearly mowing and chipping dried-out Russian thistle in vacant lots and abandoned agricultural fields before they can tumble away, said Ariel Verayo, deputy agricultural commissioner at the county’s weed abatement division in Lancaster.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Tumbleweeds blow into alfalfa fields and need to be cleared out before the alfalfa is harvested. Alfalfa is cattle feed, and cows won’t eat prickly tumbleweeds, Verayo said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>One alfalfa farmer earlier this year found a creative use for tumbleweeds after clearing them off his field. He packed them into rectangular bales and told Verayo he planned to use the bales for bow and arrow target practice.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "floatright"
},
"numeric": [
"floatright"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That’s one way of making sure tumbleweeds no longer tumble.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/science/1922987/why-do-tumbleweeds-tumble",
"authors": [
"6186"
],
"series": [
"science_1935"
],
"categories": [
"science_30",
"science_86"
],
"tags": [
"science_3370",
"science_1097"
],
"featImg": "science_1922993",
"label": "science_1935"
},
"science_1922899": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "science_1922899",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1922899",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1524488530000
]
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "the-little-known-farming-method-that-saves-water",
"title": "Farming That Uses a Little Water ... And a Whole Lot of Fish Poop",
"publishDate": 1524488530,
"format": "audio",
"headTitle": "Farming That Uses a Little Water … And a Whole Lot of Fish Poop | KQED",
"labelTerm": {},
"content": "\u003cp>\u003cem>Editor’s Note: The following story was produced for Youth Takeover week at KQED.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Most farms grow food with soil and water. But at Ouroboros Farm in Half Moon Bay, Ken Armstrong grows food with water and fish.\u003c/p>\n\u003caside class=\"pullquote alignright\">‘If our water allotment was reduced by 85 percent, I wouldn’t have to change a single thing about the way I do business. It’s not even a blip on my radar.’\u003ccite>Ken Armstrong, Ouroboros Farm\u003c/cite>\u003c/aside>\n\u003cp>Inside a building about the size of a professional basketball court, water pours from a pipe into huge tubs where goldfish, catfish and tilapia are swimming. Then a complex pipe system takes water from the tubs to feed rows of lettuce, cabbage, and kale, floating on large platforms over water beds. What we’re looking at is called “aquaponics.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“More and more people are looking for sustainable solutions to our agricultural needs in the future,” Armstrong says, “and aquaponics is one of those solutions.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Farming with aquaponics means balancing three ecosystems: fish, plants and bacteria. The system is a loop that circulates the same water over and over from fish to plants to fish to plants. The job of the fish is just to eat and poop. Bacteria turn the fish poop into nitrates for plants. As the plants take in nourishment, they filter the water and clean it. The clean water goes back to the fish tanks.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1922906\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 919px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/fish-tubs.png\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1922906\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/fish-tubs.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"919\" height=\"690\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/fish-tubs.png 919w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/fish-tubs-160x120.png 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/fish-tubs-800x601.png 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/fish-tubs-768x577.png 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/fish-tubs-240x180.png 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/fish-tubs-375x282.png 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/fish-tubs-520x390.png 520w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 919px) 100vw, 919px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Goldfish, catfish and tilapia swim in large tubs, their waste nourishing the greens. The plants clean the water, which then returns to the fish tubs. \u003ccite>(Bonnie Liu/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“Pretty much the only utilization of water in an aquaponics system is through transpiration,” Armstrong says, “what the plants actually utilize, and very little is lost to evaporation, which is the case in most soil-based agriculture.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In a state prone to drought, water is a huge worry for farmers. During the most recent drought, some farmers had to fallow their fields for lack of water. Armstrong says that wouldn’t happen to him, even in a severe drought.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“If our water allotment was reduced by 85 percent, I wouldn’t have to change a single thing about the way I do business. It’s not even a blip on my radar.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[contextly_sidebar id=”3VFuuEySRDwWsaLZCUb6okqN4g9136oF”]Despite the benefits, there are some challenges in using aquaponics. Plants that prefer low acidity, like blueberries, don’t do well. And there are high upfront costs to all that infrastructure, plus high energy costs.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“You have to heat the water, aerate the water, and pump the water,” says Jackson Gross, a researcher at the UC Davis Department of Animal Science. “It’s not without its inefficiencies.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Still, there are ways to minimize these in the water system.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“It can be hooked up with solar,” Gross says. “You can utilize gravity. You can be better with water conservation.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Aquaponics has been around since the days of the Aztecs and Mayans, who used floating gardens to take advantage of the nutrient-rich waters of nearby lakes. The Asian cultures put tilapia or carp in their rice fields to increase yields and reduce the number of insects. Now, Armstrong says, aquaponics is intriguing as a possible climate change solution.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“You’re sequestering carbon by doing this,” he says. “You’re not using a lot of chemical-based fertilizers.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1922905\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1875px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1922905\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1875\" height=\"2500\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards.jpg 1875w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards-800x1067.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards-768x1024.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards-1020x1360.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards-900x1200.jpg 900w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards-1180x1573.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards-960x1280.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards-240x320.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards-375x500.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards-520x693.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1875px) 100vw, 1875px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Collard greens grow in clay pebbles at Ouroboros Farm. \u003ccite>(Bonnie Liu/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>In the future, aquaponics could be used in urban areas to grow leafy green vegetables, which are the plants these systems are most suitable for.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Armstrong did a thought experiment using a famous San Francisco skyscraper:\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“If you were to use the Bank of America building, that footprint, put aquaponics systems on every floor there — that one square block radius of San Francisco could probably produce 1 to 2 million pounds of fish per year and over 300 million heads of lettuce.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And the transportation costs?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Zero.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“You’re going down the ground floor of the Bank of America building,” he says, “there would be your fish and produce market, so your fish and produce are just coming up and down in an elevator.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That vision could be a ways away, but up at UC Davis, Jackson Gross and other researchers are working on a plan for a new commercial- scale aquaponics farm. And as climate change poses new challenges, someday the fish and lettuce on your future dinner plate may be grown together.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>Bonnie Liu is a junior at Santa Clara High School. Her story was produced as part of Youth Takeover week at KQED.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp> \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"text-decoration: line-through\"> \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\n",
"blocks": [],
"excerpt": "Most farms grow food with soil and water. But at Ouroboros Farm in Half Moon Bay, Ken Armstrong grows food with water and fish.",
"status": "publish",
"parent": 0,
"modified": 1727135706,
"stats": {
"hasAudio": false,
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"paragraphCount": 24,
"wordCount": 817
},
"headData": {
"title": "Farming That Uses a Little Water ... And a Whole Lot of Fish Poop | KQED",
"description": "Most farms grow food with soil and water. But at Ouroboros Farm in Half Moon Bay, Ken Armstrong grows food with water and fish.",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogDescription": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"twDescription": "",
"twImgId": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Farming That Uses a Little Water ... And a Whole Lot of Fish Poop",
"datePublished": "2018-04-23T06:02:10-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-09-23T16:55:06-07:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"source": "Climate",
"sourceUrl": "Water",
"audioUrl": "https://www.kqed.org/.stream/anon/radio/science/2018/04/WEBAquaponicsLiu180423.mp3",
"sticky": false,
"nprByline": "Bonnie Liu\u003cbr>KQED Youth Takeover Staff",
"path": "/science/1922899/the-little-known-farming-method-that-saves-water",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003cem>Editor’s Note: The following story was produced for Youth Takeover week at KQED.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Most farms grow food with soil and water. But at Ouroboros Farm in Half Moon Bay, Ken Armstrong grows food with water and fish.\u003c/p>\n\u003caside class=\"pullquote alignright\">‘If our water allotment was reduced by 85 percent, I wouldn’t have to change a single thing about the way I do business. It’s not even a blip on my radar.’\u003ccite>Ken Armstrong, Ouroboros Farm\u003c/cite>\u003c/aside>\n\u003cp>Inside a building about the size of a professional basketball court, water pours from a pipe into huge tubs where goldfish, catfish and tilapia are swimming. Then a complex pipe system takes water from the tubs to feed rows of lettuce, cabbage, and kale, floating on large platforms over water beds. What we’re looking at is called “aquaponics.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“More and more people are looking for sustainable solutions to our agricultural needs in the future,” Armstrong says, “and aquaponics is one of those solutions.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Farming with aquaponics means balancing three ecosystems: fish, plants and bacteria. The system is a loop that circulates the same water over and over from fish to plants to fish to plants. The job of the fish is just to eat and poop. Bacteria turn the fish poop into nitrates for plants. As the plants take in nourishment, they filter the water and clean it. The clean water goes back to the fish tanks.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1922906\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 919px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/fish-tubs.png\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1922906\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/fish-tubs.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"919\" height=\"690\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/fish-tubs.png 919w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/fish-tubs-160x120.png 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/fish-tubs-800x601.png 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/fish-tubs-768x577.png 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/fish-tubs-240x180.png 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/fish-tubs-375x282.png 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/fish-tubs-520x390.png 520w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 919px) 100vw, 919px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Goldfish, catfish and tilapia swim in large tubs, their waste nourishing the greens. The plants clean the water, which then returns to the fish tubs. \u003ccite>(Bonnie Liu/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“Pretty much the only utilization of water in an aquaponics system is through transpiration,” Armstrong says, “what the plants actually utilize, and very little is lost to evaporation, which is the case in most soil-based agriculture.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In a state prone to drought, water is a huge worry for farmers. During the most recent drought, some farmers had to fallow their fields for lack of water. Armstrong says that wouldn’t happen to him, even in a severe drought.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“If our water allotment was reduced by 85 percent, I wouldn’t have to change a single thing about the way I do business. It’s not even a blip on my radar.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>Despite the benefits, there are some challenges in using aquaponics. Plants that prefer low acidity, like blueberries, don’t do well. And there are high upfront costs to all that infrastructure, plus high energy costs.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“You have to heat the water, aerate the water, and pump the water,” says Jackson Gross, a researcher at the UC Davis Department of Animal Science. “It’s not without its inefficiencies.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Still, there are ways to minimize these in the water system.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“It can be hooked up with solar,” Gross says. “You can utilize gravity. You can be better with water conservation.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Aquaponics has been around since the days of the Aztecs and Mayans, who used floating gardens to take advantage of the nutrient-rich waters of nearby lakes. The Asian cultures put tilapia or carp in their rice fields to increase yields and reduce the number of insects. Now, Armstrong says, aquaponics is intriguing as a possible climate change solution.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“You’re sequestering carbon by doing this,” he says. “You’re not using a lot of chemical-based fertilizers.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1922905\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1875px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1922905\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1875\" height=\"2500\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards.jpg 1875w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards-800x1067.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards-768x1024.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards-1020x1360.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards-900x1200.jpg 900w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards-1180x1573.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards-960x1280.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards-240x320.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards-375x500.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/collards-520x693.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1875px) 100vw, 1875px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Collard greens grow in clay pebbles at Ouroboros Farm. \u003ccite>(Bonnie Liu/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>In the future, aquaponics could be used in urban areas to grow leafy green vegetables, which are the plants these systems are most suitable for.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Armstrong did a thought experiment using a famous San Francisco skyscraper:\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“If you were to use the Bank of America building, that footprint, put aquaponics systems on every floor there — that one square block radius of San Francisco could probably produce 1 to 2 million pounds of fish per year and over 300 million heads of lettuce.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And the transportation costs?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Zero.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“You’re going down the ground floor of the Bank of America building,” he says, “there would be your fish and produce market, so your fish and produce are just coming up and down in an elevator.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That vision could be a ways away, but up at UC Davis, Jackson Gross and other researchers are working on a plan for a new commercial- scale aquaponics farm. And as climate change poses new challenges, someday the fish and lettuce on your future dinner plate may be grown together.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>Bonnie Liu is a junior at Santa Clara High School. Her story was produced as part of Youth Takeover week at KQED.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp> \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"text-decoration: line-through\"> \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/science/1922899/the-little-known-farming-method-that-saves-water",
"authors": [
"byline_science_1922899"
],
"programs": [
"science_5376"
],
"categories": [
"science_30",
"science_29",
"science_31",
"science_36",
"science_40",
"science_5141",
"science_3423",
"science_98"
],
"tags": [
"science_194",
"science_3370"
],
"featImg": "science_1922907",
"label": "source_science_1922899"
},
"science_1922719": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "science_1922719",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1922719",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1523991606000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1523991606,
"format": "standard",
"title": "Global Warming is Mixing Up Nature’s Dinner Time, Study Says",
"headTitle": "Global Warming is Mixing Up Nature’s Dinner Time, Study Says | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>Global warming is screwing up nature’s intricately timed dinner hour, often making hungry critters and those on the menu show up at much different times, a new study shows.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Timing is everything in nature. Bees have to be around and flowers have to bloom at the same time for pollination to work, and hawks need to migrate at the same time as their prey. In many cases, global warming is interfering with that timing, scientists said.[contextly_sidebar id=”DW1hzBXeclQ1VU4UvjMvJqg203mcsZzZ”]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>A first-of-its-kind global mega analysis on the biological timing of 88 species that rely on another life form shows that on average species are moving out of sync by about six days a decade, although some pairs are actually moving closer together.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>While other studies have looked at individual pairs of species and how warming temperatures have changed their migration, breeding and other timing, the study in Monday’s \u003ca href=\"http://www.pnas.org/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Proceedings\u003c/a> of the National Academy of Sciences gives the first global look at a worsening timing problem.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>These changes in species timing are considerably greater than they were before the 1980s, the study said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“There isn’t really any clear indication that it is going to slow down or stop in the near future,” said study lead author Heather Kharouba, an ecologist at the University of Ottawa.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For example in the Netherlands, the Eurasian sparrow hawk has been late for dinner because its prey, the blue tit, has — over 16 years — arrived almost six days earlier than the hawk.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It’s most noticeable and crucial in Washington state’s Lake Washington, where over the past 25 years, plant plankton are now blooming 34 days earlier than the zooplankton that eat them. That’s crucial because that’s messing with the bottom of the food chain, Kharouba said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[contextly_sidebar id=”NNrs8rOJPw3YfFBgqJPxjpMJRqAKiFjW”]In Greenland, the plants are showing up almost three days earlier than the caribou, so more of the baby caribou are dying “because there wasn’t enough food,” Kharouba said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>With warmer temperatures, most species moved their habits earlier, but interdependent species didn’t always move at the same rate. It’s the relative speed of changes in timing that’s key, Kharouba said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Because of the small number of species involved in small areas over different studies, Kharouba’s team could not find a statistically significant link between temperature and changes in how species sync together. But what she saw, she said, “is consistent with climate change.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Scientists not involved in the study praised the work.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“It demonstrates that many species interactions from around the world are in a state of rapid flux,” Boston University biology professor Richard Primack said in an email. “Prior to this study, studies of changing species interactions focused on one place or one group of species.”\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 494,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 15
},
"modified": 1704927991,
"excerpt": "The first-of-its-kind global analysis sheds light on a worsening timing problem among 88 species.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "The first-of-its-kind global analysis sheds light on a worsening timing problem among 88 species.",
"title": "Global Warming is Mixing Up Nature’s Dinner Time, Study Says | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Global Warming is Mixing Up Nature’s Dinner Time, Study Says",
"datePublished": "2018-04-17T12:00:06-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-10T15:06:31-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "global-warming-is-mixing-up-natures-dinner-time-study-says",
"status": "publish",
"nprByline": "Seth Borenstein\u003cbr />The Associated Press",
"sticky": false,
"source": "Climate",
"path": "/science/1922719/global-warming-is-mixing-up-natures-dinner-time-study-says",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Global warming is screwing up nature’s intricately timed dinner hour, often making hungry critters and those on the menu show up at much different times, a new study shows.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Timing is everything in nature. Bees have to be around and flowers have to bloom at the same time for pollination to work, and hawks need to migrate at the same time as their prey. In many cases, global warming is interfering with that timing, scientists said.\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>A first-of-its-kind global mega analysis on the biological timing of 88 species that rely on another life form shows that on average species are moving out of sync by about six days a decade, although some pairs are actually moving closer together.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>While other studies have looked at individual pairs of species and how warming temperatures have changed their migration, breeding and other timing, the study in Monday’s \u003ca href=\"http://www.pnas.org/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Proceedings\u003c/a> of the National Academy of Sciences gives the first global look at a worsening timing problem.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>These changes in species timing are considerably greater than they were before the 1980s, the study said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“There isn’t really any clear indication that it is going to slow down or stop in the near future,” said study lead author Heather Kharouba, an ecologist at the University of Ottawa.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For example in the Netherlands, the Eurasian sparrow hawk has been late for dinner because its prey, the blue tit, has — over 16 years — arrived almost six days earlier than the hawk.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It’s most noticeable and crucial in Washington state’s Lake Washington, where over the past 25 years, plant plankton are now blooming 34 days earlier than the zooplankton that eat them. That’s crucial because that’s messing with the bottom of the food chain, Kharouba said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>In Greenland, the plants are showing up almost three days earlier than the caribou, so more of the baby caribou are dying “because there wasn’t enough food,” Kharouba said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>With warmer temperatures, most species moved their habits earlier, but interdependent species didn’t always move at the same rate. It’s the relative speed of changes in timing that’s key, Kharouba said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Because of the small number of species involved in small areas over different studies, Kharouba’s team could not find a statistically significant link between temperature and changes in how species sync together. But what she saw, she said, “is consistent with climate change.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Scientists not involved in the study praised the work.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“It demonstrates that many species interactions from around the world are in a state of rapid flux,” Boston University biology professor Richard Primack said in an email. “Prior to this study, studies of changing species interactions focused on one place or one group of species.”\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/science/1922719/global-warming-is-mixing-up-natures-dinner-time-study-says",
"authors": [
"byline_science_1922719"
],
"categories": [
"science_2874",
"science_30",
"science_31",
"science_35",
"science_40"
],
"tags": [
"science_1120",
"science_194",
"science_192",
"science_556"
],
"featImg": "science_1922722",
"label": "source_science_1922719"
},
"science_1922038": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "science_1922038",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1922038",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1523970008000
]
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "the-mystery-of-the-upside-down-catfish",
"title": "Upside-Down Catfish Doesn't Care What You Think",
"publishDate": 1523970008,
"format": "video",
"headTitle": "Upside-Down Catfish Doesn’t Care What You Think | KQED",
"labelTerm": {
"term": 1935,
"site": "science"
},
"content": "\u003cp>[dl_subscribe]Normally, an upside-down fish in your tank is bad news. As in, it’s time for a new goldfish.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That’s because most fish have an internal air sac called a swim bladder that allows them to control their buoyancy and orientation. They fill the bladder with air when they want to rise, and deflate it when they want to sink. Fish without swim bladders, like sharks, have to swim constantly to keep from dropping to the bottom.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>If an aquarium fish is listing to one side or flops over on its back, it often means it has swim bladder disease, a potentially life-threatening condition usually brought on by parasites, overfeeding or high nitrate levels in the water.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1922046\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-1922046\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-1920x1080.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The blotched upside-down catfish is one of seven species that swim in an inverted position. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy / KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>But for a few remarkable fish, being upside down means everything is great.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In fact, seven species of catfish native to Central Africa live most of their lives upended. These topsy-turvy swimmers are anatomically identical to their right-side-up cousins, despite having such an unusual orientation.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>People’s fascination with the odd alignment of these fish goes back centuries.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Our sense of where we are in space evolved very early in vertebrates,” said John Friel, director of the Alabama Museum of Natural History, and a catfish specialist. “When you have something that kind of bucks that trend, you have to wonder why.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Upside-down catfish have been carved into Egyptian tomb walls dating back 4,000 years. Today, they’re more often found in aquariums, where they can live up to 15 years and grow to be 4 inches long.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Studies of these quizzical fish have found a number of reasons why swimming upside down makes a lot of sense — and there’s even a climate change angle.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1922079\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-1922079\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-1920x1080.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Whiskers, called barbels, help the catfish sense food near the surface. \u003ccite>(Elliott Kennerson / KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Robert Blake, a biology professor at the University of British Columbia, showed that, for fish, it’s just as efficient to swim upside down as it is to swim right side up. Blake, who died in 2016, found “no significant difference” in the two postures, as long as the fish was far enough below the waterline.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But the picture changes near the surface. Whether you’re a fish or an Olympic swimmer, that’s when “wave drag” comes into play. Wave drag is the turbulence produced by friction — basically, splashing — which makes it harder to swim.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In an upside-down position, fish produce a lot less wave drag, according to Blake’s research. That means upside-down catfish do a better job feeding on insect larvae at the waterline than their right-side-up counterparts, which have to return to deeper water to rest.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>There’s something else at the surface that’s even more important to a fish’s survival than food: oxygen. The gas essential to life readily dissolves from the air into the water, where it becomes concentrated in a thin layer at the waterline — right where the upside-down catfish’s mouth and gills are perfectly positioned to get it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That ability can be critical for survival when the water becomes depleted of oxygen, a condition called hypoxia — which occurs naturally in some river systems, especially if they are marked by low light and dense vegetation, as in swamps.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“The upside-down catfish seems to have a whole suite of adaptations that make life at the surface more tenable,” said Lauren Chapman, a biology professor at McGill University who has been studying for more than two decades how fish respond to hypoxia in African river systems.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1922082\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 720px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_wide-swimming.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1922082\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_wide-swimming.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"720\" height=\"405\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">An upside-down catfish swims near the waterline. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy / KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>In one experiment, Chapman compared how upside-down and right-side-up catfish performed under low-oxygen conditions in a laboratory. She found that their swimming positions allowed the upside-down fish to breathe at the surface more easily, while the right-side-up ones had to work harder for the same benefit.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Upside-down swimming didn’t necessarily evolve in response to hypoxia, Chapman said. But for many fish in the wild, oxygen levels in the water can have a big impact, including increased gill size and smaller egg numbers, which eventually could lead to the formation of separate species.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When human activity, such as industrial pollution or farm runoff, causes hypoxia, the results are more catastrophic. The contamination feeds algal blooms and ultimately bacteria that consume the water’s oxygen. In places as far-flung as the Gulf of Mexico and Africa’s Lake Victoria, human-caused hypoxia has led to large-scale die-offs of marine life, called dead zones.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“It’s not just a little local issue,” said Chapman. “We have a very serious global issue with increasingly frequent and intense hypoxic events.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1922081\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-1922081\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-1920x1080.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The upside-down catfish is marked by its dark underbelly. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy / KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Climate change has brought the issue of hypoxia further into focus, in part because warmer water holds less dissolved oxygen. For many fish species, it could be a case of adapt quickly or perish.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Scientists estimate that upside-down catfish have been working out their own survival strategy for as long at 35 million years. Besides their breathing and feeding behavior, the blotched upside-down catfish from the Congo Basin has also evolved a dark patch on its underside to make it harder to see against dark water.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That coloration is remarkable because it’s the opposite of most sea creatures, which tend to be darker on top and lighter on the bottom, a common adaptation called countershading that offsets the effects of sunlight.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The blotched upside-down catfish’s reverse countershading has earned it the scientific name \u003cem>nigriventris\u003c/em>, which means black-bellied.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But scientists have been unable to pinpoint much in the catfish’s anatomy to explain why it swims the way it does. Researchers at Nara Medical University School of Medicine in Japan, led by Ken Ohnishi, even looked at the fish’s inner ear, site of the bones that control orientation in vertebrates, and found nothing unusual.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1922047\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 720px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_barrel-roll.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1922047\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_barrel-roll.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"720\" height=\"405\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">While these unusual catfish sometimes turn right side up to feed, they soon return to their preferred position.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So the mystery of the upside-down catfish persists, for now, as a puzzle for future scientists. “These catfish have always been interesting to people who are looking for things that are out of the ordinary,” said Friel.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"blocks": [],
"excerpt": "You might think this upside-down catfish is sick or confused, but swimming this way makes a lot of sense.",
"status": "publish",
"parent": 0,
"modified": 1738969924,
"stats": {
"hasAudio": false,
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"paragraphCount": 27,
"wordCount": 1127
},
"headData": {
"title": "Upside-Down Catfish Doesn't Care What You Think | KQED",
"description": "You might think this upside-down catfish is sick or confused, but swimming this way makes a lot of sense.",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogDescription": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"twDescription": "",
"twImgId": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Upside-Down Catfish Doesn't Care What You Think",
"datePublished": "2018-04-17T06:00:08-07:00",
"dateModified": "2025-02-07T15:12:04-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"videoEmbed": "https://youtu.be/eurCBOJMrsE",
"pbsMediaId": "3015702887",
"sticky": false,
"excludeFromSiteSearch": "Include",
"articleAge": "0",
"path": "/science/1922038/the-mystery-of-the-upside-down-catfish",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "dl_subscribe",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": ""
},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>Normally, an upside-down fish in your tank is bad news. As in, it’s time for a new goldfish.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That’s because most fish have an internal air sac called a swim bladder that allows them to control their buoyancy and orientation. They fill the bladder with air when they want to rise, and deflate it when they want to sink. Fish without swim bladders, like sharks, have to swim constantly to keep from dropping to the bottom.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>If an aquarium fish is listing to one side or flops over on its back, it often means it has swim bladder disease, a potentially life-threatening condition usually brought on by parasites, overfeeding or high nitrate levels in the water.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1922046\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-1922046\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-1920x1080.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_full-body-upside-down-swim_CC-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The blotched upside-down catfish is one of seven species that swim in an inverted position. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy / KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>But for a few remarkable fish, being upside down means everything is great.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In fact, seven species of catfish native to Central Africa live most of their lives upended. These topsy-turvy swimmers are anatomically identical to their right-side-up cousins, despite having such an unusual orientation.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>People’s fascination with the odd alignment of these fish goes back centuries.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Our sense of where we are in space evolved very early in vertebrates,” said John Friel, director of the Alabama Museum of Natural History, and a catfish specialist. “When you have something that kind of bucks that trend, you have to wonder why.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Upside-down catfish have been carved into Egyptian tomb walls dating back 4,000 years. Today, they’re more often found in aquariums, where they can live up to 15 years and grow to be 4 inches long.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Studies of these quizzical fish have found a number of reasons why swimming upside down makes a lot of sense — and there’s even a climate change angle.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1922079\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-1922079\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-1920x1080.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_on-green-waterline-CC-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Whiskers, called barbels, help the catfish sense food near the surface. \u003ccite>(Elliott Kennerson / KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Robert Blake, a biology professor at the University of British Columbia, showed that, for fish, it’s just as efficient to swim upside down as it is to swim right side up. Blake, who died in 2016, found “no significant difference” in the two postures, as long as the fish was far enough below the waterline.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But the picture changes near the surface. Whether you’re a fish or an Olympic swimmer, that’s when “wave drag” comes into play. Wave drag is the turbulence produced by friction — basically, splashing — which makes it harder to swim.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In an upside-down position, fish produce a lot less wave drag, according to Blake’s research. That means upside-down catfish do a better job feeding on insect larvae at the waterline than their right-side-up counterparts, which have to return to deeper water to rest.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>There’s something else at the surface that’s even more important to a fish’s survival than food: oxygen. The gas essential to life readily dissolves from the air into the water, where it becomes concentrated in a thin layer at the waterline — right where the upside-down catfish’s mouth and gills are perfectly positioned to get it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That ability can be critical for survival when the water becomes depleted of oxygen, a condition called hypoxia — which occurs naturally in some river systems, especially if they are marked by low light and dense vegetation, as in swamps.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“The upside-down catfish seems to have a whole suite of adaptations that make life at the surface more tenable,” said Lauren Chapman, a biology professor at McGill University who has been studying for more than two decades how fish respond to hypoxia in African river systems.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1922082\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 720px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_wide-swimming.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1922082\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_wide-swimming.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"720\" height=\"405\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">An upside-down catfish swims near the waterline. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy / KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>In one experiment, Chapman compared how upside-down and right-side-up catfish performed under low-oxygen conditions in a laboratory. She found that their swimming positions allowed the upside-down fish to breathe at the surface more easily, while the right-side-up ones had to work harder for the same benefit.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Upside-down swimming didn’t necessarily evolve in response to hypoxia, Chapman said. But for many fish in the wild, oxygen levels in the water can have a big impact, including increased gill size and smaller egg numbers, which eventually could lead to the formation of separate species.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When human activity, such as industrial pollution or farm runoff, causes hypoxia, the results are more catastrophic. The contamination feeds algal blooms and ultimately bacteria that consume the water’s oxygen. In places as far-flung as the Gulf of Mexico and Africa’s Lake Victoria, human-caused hypoxia has led to large-scale die-offs of marine life, called dead zones.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“It’s not just a little local issue,” said Chapman. “We have a very serious global issue with increasingly frequent and intense hypoxic events.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1922081\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-1922081\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-1920x1080.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish-looking-golden-CC-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The upside-down catfish is marked by its dark underbelly. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy / KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Climate change has brought the issue of hypoxia further into focus, in part because warmer water holds less dissolved oxygen. For many fish species, it could be a case of adapt quickly or perish.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Scientists estimate that upside-down catfish have been working out their own survival strategy for as long at 35 million years. Besides their breathing and feeding behavior, the blotched upside-down catfish from the Congo Basin has also evolved a dark patch on its underside to make it harder to see against dark water.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That coloration is remarkable because it’s the opposite of most sea creatures, which tend to be darker on top and lighter on the bottom, a common adaptation called countershading that offsets the effects of sunlight.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The blotched upside-down catfish’s reverse countershading has earned it the scientific name \u003cem>nigriventris\u003c/em>, which means black-bellied.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But scientists have been unable to pinpoint much in the catfish’s anatomy to explain why it swims the way it does. Researchers at Nara Medical University School of Medicine in Japan, led by Ken Ohnishi, even looked at the fish’s inner ear, site of the bones that control orientation in vertebrates, and found nothing unusual.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1922047\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 720px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_barrel-roll.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1922047\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL507_catfish_barrel-roll.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"720\" height=\"405\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">While these unusual catfish sometimes turn right side up to feed, they soon return to their preferred position.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "floatright"
},
"numeric": [
"floatright"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So the mystery of the upside-down catfish persists, for now, as a puzzle for future scientists. “These catfish have always been interesting to people who are looking for things that are out of the ordinary,” said Friel.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/science/1922038/the-mystery-of-the-upside-down-catfish",
"authors": [
"11090",
"11376"
],
"series": [
"science_1935"
],
"categories": [
"science_2874",
"science_30",
"science_35",
"science_86"
],
"tags": [
"science_3370",
"science_248"
],
"featImg": "science_1922041",
"label": "science_1935"
},
"science_1922417": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "science_1922417",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1922417",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1523638835000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1523638835,
"format": "standard",
"title": "Monster Animals: Does ‘Rampage’ Get the Science of CRISPR Right?",
"headTitle": "Monster Animals: Does ‘Rampage’ Get the Science of CRISPR Right? | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp class=\"big-cap-wrap danger-zone\">\u003cspan class=\"big-cap\">W\u003c/span>e here at STAT cover \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/futureofyou/370/a-crispr-solution-to-bubble-boy-disease\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">CRISPR\u003c/a> a lot. But it’s not every day we get to cover Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp class=\"danger-zone\">The Rock and the genome-editing technology meet in a new movie, “\u003ca href=\"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=coOKvrsmQiI\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Rampage\u003c/a>,” coming out Friday. Through a freak accident, a gorilla, a wolf, and a crocodile ingest some CRISPR complexes. The animals — whose genomes become edited to make them stronger, bigger, faster, and more aggressive — soon wreak havoc on the city of Chicago.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp class=\"danger-zone\">It’s packed with action, gratuitous destruction, and an anti-poaching message, along with at least a dozen references to CRISPR, some of which are even accurate, say STAT reporters (and amateur movie critics) Megan Thielking and Andrew Joseph, who saw an advanced screening this week. Here are their thoughts — both scientific and cinematic — on the film. This conversation contains spoilers.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp class=\"\">\u003cstrong>MEGAN:\u003c/strong> So that was incredible.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp class=\"\">\u003cstrong>ANDREW\u003c/strong>: This movie has everything: rich biotech baddies with clothes as fancy as their skyscraper headquarters; meditations on how mankind is just as primitive as the animal kingdom (and how we’re actually a horrible and much worse species); and a gigantic wolf with a taste for helicopters. But before we dive into the movie, let’s give a bit of background. Megan, in addition to being \u003ca href=\"https://www.statnews.com/category/boddities/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">a serious science journalist\u003c/a>, you’re a big Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson fan. How did we end up at this advanced screening?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN\u003c/strong>: I have been working up a STAT pitch on this movie for months. This movie features both science (my beat) and The Rock looking contemplatively out over a cornfield (my aesthetic). My original idea was to review the movie with an expert in genome-editing. I actually invited four CRISPR experts, all of whom were “busy.” Dejected, I then invited Drew.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW\u003c/strong>: Fifth choice, I’ll take it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN\u003c/strong>: So the movie opens with a title screen that reads: “In 1993, a breakthrough new technology, known as CRISPR, gave scientists a path to treat incurable diseases through genetic editing. In 2016, due to its potential for misuse, the U.S. Intelligence Community designated genetic editing a ‘Weapon of Mass Destruction and Proliferation.’”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It was a huge relief to see CRISPR mentioned right from the get-go, because I really sold this story to our editors. It also made me feel better about expensing Sour Patch Kids and Raisinets.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW\u003c/strong>: To get technical for a second, the title screen is sort of accurate. Yes, James Clapper, then the director of national intelligence, did \u003ca href=\"https://www.dni.gov/files/documents/SASC_Unclassified_2016_ATA_SFR_FINAL.pdf\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">list genome-editing as a threat\u003c/a> in 2016. But when I saw the 1993 line, I kind of chuckled to myself. At first, I thought, sorry, Jennifer Doudna and \u003ca href=\"https://www.statnews.com/2015/11/06/hollywood-inspired-scientist-rewrite-code-life/\" rel=\"noopener\">Feng Zhang\u003c/a>, apparently The Rock beat you by like 20 years, \u003ca href=\"https://www.statnews.com/2017/02/16/crispr-patent-decision-six-takeaways/\" rel=\"noopener\">your patent claims\u003c/a> are worthless. But then I thought more about it and realized what they were referring to. This history of modern CRISPR discovery does, \u003ca href=\"http://www.cell.com/cell/pdf/S0092-8674(15)01705-5.pdf\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">by some accounts\u003c/a>, date back to 1993, even though the term CRISPR wasn’t used for another decade or so. And the title page suggests that scientists were using the system to edit genomes 25 years ago, which we know was not the case — that’s a much more recent feat. Anyway, I’ll get off my soapbox now.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Megan, to my surprise, the movie started in space. What’s up with that?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN\u003c/strong>: I was not surprised whatsoever that this movie started in space. But, essentially, an evil company is testing CRISPR in space on a lab rat. Only the rat becomes a gigantic rat, the space shuttle explodes, and three CRISPR vials fall to earth. Enter Dwayne Johnson and his best friend, George, the albino gorilla he rescued from poachers and who he communicates with using sign language.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>George and two other animals — a wolf and a crocodile — are “infected” with CRISPR. It makes them grow to gigantic proportions and become very aggressive. And in the wolf’s case, it also grew bat wings. But that’s not exactly how CRISPR works.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ciframe loading=\"lazy\" title=\"RAMPAGE - OFFICIAL TRAILER 1 [HD]\" width=\"500\" height=\"281\" src=\"https://www.youtube.com/embed/coOKvrsmQiI?feature=oembed\" frameborder=\"0\" allow=\"accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share\" allowfullscreen>\u003c/iframe>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW:\u003c/strong> I knew this movie was going to be good when one of the astronauts who is trying to escape the shuttle is frantically radioing back to earth. Someone over the radio chimes in that “the test subject is a rat,” and the astronaut replies, “Not anymore.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And, yes, that’s not exactly how CRISPR works, but it’s not completely off base either! The idea is that the biotech company “weaponized” CRISPR research and introduced the genes of a bunch of other animals into our three monster-animals to give them traits such as those bat wings, or the spikes of some other animal, or the strength or regenerative abilities of certain kinds of bugs. This is all explained very quickly in some exposition by our disgraced yet heroic geneticist played by Naomie Harris (whom I last saw in “Moonlight,” and here’s hoping that, like that movie, “Rampage” scores a surprise best picture win at the Oscars). “I’m talking about extremely specific results,” says Naomie, who, in my mind, I am on a first-name basis with.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>One question I have is whether these animal features are polygenic as opposed to tied to one gene. That would make it a lot harder to introduce them into another species. But scientists have CRISPR’d beagles to make them super jacked, so it’s not insane that CRISPR could be used to change the features of an animal. Whether it could be used to double the size of a gorilla overnight, well, that might be a different story. And for the beagles, the CRISPR’ing happened when the dogs were embryos, not fully grown.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The CRISPR’d animals of “Rampage” also become super aggressive, and behavior might be harder to change through editing. Maybe they just ramped up testosterone production somehow? I don’t know, Naomie didn’t explain that part.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>You raised a good point as we left the movie, Megan. Where are the regulators?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN:\u003c/strong> All of the CRISPR work in this movie seemed to be WILDLY unregulated. There’s no FDA cameo here. There’s no Scott Gottlieb in skinny jeans. There is Jeffrey Dean Morgan, whom I will refer to as Denny Duquette, his character in “Grey’s Anatomy,” from this point forward. He plays a government agent with a faint Foghorn Leghorn accent who helps The Rock and Naomie Harris take on the CRISPR company, called Energyne.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW:\u003c/strong> Best line from Jeffrey Dean Morgan (said in his weird Foghorn Leghorn accent, which is not faint at all): “When science s***s the bed, I’m the guy they call to clean the sheets.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>MEGAN: It’s Denny Duquette, but, yes, that was amazing. In real life, there’s a whole system that keeps research in the U.S. involving CRISPR in check. The Food and Drug Administration and the National Institutes of Health regulate CRISPR as it relates to medical research, of course. But the Environmental Protection Agency and the Department of Agriculture also play a role in overseeing uses of CRISPR. And the Department of Defense — which is interested in genome-editing as a potential bioterrorism threat — has poured a lot of money into CRISPR research. So there are a lot of people overseeing this kind of work. Not just Denny.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW:\u003c/strong> Exactly, although the dastardly siblings running Energyne (who complain about their stock price tanking after their space shuttle explodes!) maybe found a way around all of them, you know, by like doing their work in space. Anyone home at NASA?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>On a different note, this did make me think of a common movie plot point. As our colleague Damian Garde wrote last year, Hollywood loves a biopharma villain. There’s clearly some fear among the public about what scientists can do, particularly when it comes to rewriting the code of life. I do wonder if this movie will be people’s introduction to CRISPR. Are they going to go home and Google it and see headlines invoking “designer babies”? Is this just going to make people scared of CRISPR, even if they know that it probably won’t lead to a mutant crocodile that can King-Kong-style crawl up the Sears Tower? This is totally made up, but I imagine the marketing people at CRISPR Therapeutics are discussing this right now!\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN:\u003c/strong> Side note, the director of this movie 100 percent took a Chicago architecture boat tour, because they hit all the major landmarks. But, yes, I do think this will be the first introduction a lot of people have to CRISPR. And as much as I absolutely loved this movie — I will be seeing it at least four more times in theaters, thanks MoviePass — I do think it played fast and loose with some of the science around CRISPR, which is a real thing that actually exists. I know it’s science fiction, but the closest thing I could find on the crew list to a science adviser was a “genetics lab tech advisor.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW:\u003c/strong> I’m definitely giving this movie too much credit, and you’re absolutely right, but there were things in the movie that made me think of real CRISPR issues. Naomie Harris’ character was trying to use CRISPR to cure her brother of some unidentified disease. And her big discovery was how to ensure that CRISPR complexes could be delivered to every cell in the body, not just a few. Granted, efficient CRISPR delivery had some not-great consequences when it happened to a crocodile, but it’s a huge goal for researchers using CRISPR or other types of gene therapy for clinical purposes: ensuring that edits happen in enough cells to, for example, generate enough of a normal protein to overcome the faulty protein produced by a certain disease mutation.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN:\u003c/strong> At least The Rock and the rest of the “Rampage” team own up to the fact that they take “great liberties with the science” in the film’s production notes. Here’s what The Rock said: “The science is fascinating. But we had to maintain that balance between delivering on a scientific perspective that makes sense and making sure we’re right around the next corner winking at the audience and letting them know we’re all in on this: Hey, we’re making a big, fun movie about a crocodile with 1118 giant teeth, and a gorilla the size of a house, who likes to flip me off.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As an audience member, I will gladly let The Rock wink at me, even if it means sparing a little scientific accuracy.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW:\u003c/strong> I did hear you giggling a lot whenever The Rock was on screen.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN:\u003c/strong> Who wasn’t?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Let’s talk about how they want to stop the destruction of the entire city of Chicago and potentially the world by delivering an antidote. The antidote, we’re told, will curb the unchecked aggression of the animals but not reverse the other changes, like bringing George back to his original 7-foot-tall size. But that’s more in line with Pokemon than actual CRISPR science. In theory, you could re-edit the genes of an animal again after editing them initially with CRISPR, but there’s no magic solution to immediately reverse CRISPR and bring peace to the Windy City like the movie suggests. And if there were, I’m not confident you could deliver it by putting it in the purse of a woman who then gets consumed by a CRISPR’d animal. Which happens.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW:\u003c/strong> The antidote at one point is described as a giant “chill pill.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And here I am again making a reach, but, whatever, this movie’s got layers. When they were talking about an antidote or reversing those changes, I immediately thought about gene drive! Granted, that’s a different use of CRISPR — editing animals to force traits throughout a whole species — and reversing gene drive isn’t just re-editing the animals that have already been edited. But researchers who are working on gene drive are cognizant of the fact that playing with nature can have unintended consequences, so it’s probably a good idea to have a real-life CTRL-Z at the ready.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN:\u003c/strong> Agree wholeheartedly. I and the entire city of Chicago and the suburbs (Go Cats!) would like to thank science for the antidote. Final thoughts on the science, Drew?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW:\u003c/strong> I’m sorry I’m still harping on this, but back to the fear of genome-editing. Obviously, there are a whole lot of ethical and safety issues involved with playing with DNA, and I think most scientists take those seriously. But it’s interesting to see this movie given that we now have treatments on the market involving editing DNA. Sure, they’re not CRISPR-based therapies, but clinical trials using CRISPR are recruiting patients. And the CAR-T therapies and the gene therapy Luxturna (see this piece by our colleague Eric Boodman to get a sense of how it works) are big deals for patients, and there are a lot more coming down the pike.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN:\u003c/strong> That was as subtle a product placement as the Dave & Buster’s sign that gets torn off a building in “Rampage.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW:\u003c/strong> I did see you scramble to write that part down in your notebook when it happened. Anyway, your final thoughts, Megan, the Statler to my Waldorf?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN:\u003c/strong> There was one health-related subplot here we didn’t get to, which was how The Rock was able to take on three giant animals, scale burning buildings, and save the world after being SHOT THROUGH THE ABDOMEN with roughly half an hour left in the movie. He said the bullet missed all of his vital organs, but still. Swoon. In my notes, I scribbled, “The Rock. Man of many talents. Also gorilla whisperer.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>One final question: If you were in a real-life “Rampage” situation, what would you do?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW:\u003c/strong> The first lesson is, listen to Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. If he says don’t put George the gorilla on a plane, don’t put him on a plane! How about you?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN:\u003c/strong> I would hop on The Rock’s back and let him carry me while I used my inhaler.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW:\u003c/strong> So what do you think, can we convince our editors to send us to an advanced screening of The Rock’s next movie? See you at “Skyscraper”?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN:\u003c/strong> Catch me at the midnight premiere.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Megan’s grades\u003c/strong>:\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>Scientific\u003c/em>: A for effort, B- for execution\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Cinematic\u003c/em>: Two out of two Rock biceps\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Andrew’s grades\u003c/strong>:\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>Scientific\u003c/em>: B-, though honestly I haven’t stopped thinking about it\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Cinematic\u003c/em>: Let’s just say I can’t wait for “Rampage 2: Editin’ Boogaloo”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>Thanks to STAT’s very own CRISPR expert, Sharon Begley, for reviewing this review to make sure we didn’t screw anything up.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": true,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 2632,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 45
},
"modified": 1704928014,
"excerpt": "The Rock and the genome-editing technology meet in a new movie, “Rampage,” coming out Friday. ",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "The Rock and the genome-editing technology meet in a new movie, “Rampage,” coming out Friday. ",
"title": "Monster Animals: Does ‘Rampage’ Get the Science of CRISPR Right? | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Monster Animals: Does ‘Rampage’ Get the Science of CRISPR Right?",
"datePublished": "2018-04-13T10:00:35-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-10T15:06:54-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "monster-animals-does-rampage-get-the-science-of-crispr-right",
"status": "publish",
"nprByline": "Megan Thielking and Andrew Joseph\u003cbr />STAT",
"sticky": false,
"source": "Animals",
"path": "/science/1922417/monster-animals-does-rampage-get-the-science-of-crispr-right",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp class=\"big-cap-wrap danger-zone\">\u003cspan class=\"big-cap\">W\u003c/span>e here at STAT cover \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/futureofyou/370/a-crispr-solution-to-bubble-boy-disease\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">CRISPR\u003c/a> a lot. But it’s not every day we get to cover Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp class=\"danger-zone\">The Rock and the genome-editing technology meet in a new movie, “\u003ca href=\"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=coOKvrsmQiI\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Rampage\u003c/a>,” coming out Friday. Through a freak accident, a gorilla, a wolf, and a crocodile ingest some CRISPR complexes. The animals — whose genomes become edited to make them stronger, bigger, faster, and more aggressive — soon wreak havoc on the city of Chicago.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp class=\"danger-zone\">It’s packed with action, gratuitous destruction, and an anti-poaching message, along with at least a dozen references to CRISPR, some of which are even accurate, say STAT reporters (and amateur movie critics) Megan Thielking and Andrew Joseph, who saw an advanced screening this week. Here are their thoughts — both scientific and cinematic — on the film. This conversation contains spoilers.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp class=\"\">\u003cstrong>MEGAN:\u003c/strong> So that was incredible.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp class=\"\">\u003cstrong>ANDREW\u003c/strong>: This movie has everything: rich biotech baddies with clothes as fancy as their skyscraper headquarters; meditations on how mankind is just as primitive as the animal kingdom (and how we’re actually a horrible and much worse species); and a gigantic wolf with a taste for helicopters. But before we dive into the movie, let’s give a bit of background. Megan, in addition to being \u003ca href=\"https://www.statnews.com/category/boddities/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">a serious science journalist\u003c/a>, you’re a big Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson fan. How did we end up at this advanced screening?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN\u003c/strong>: I have been working up a STAT pitch on this movie for months. This movie features both science (my beat) and The Rock looking contemplatively out over a cornfield (my aesthetic). My original idea was to review the movie with an expert in genome-editing. I actually invited four CRISPR experts, all of whom were “busy.” Dejected, I then invited Drew.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW\u003c/strong>: Fifth choice, I’ll take it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN\u003c/strong>: So the movie opens with a title screen that reads: “In 1993, a breakthrough new technology, known as CRISPR, gave scientists a path to treat incurable diseases through genetic editing. In 2016, due to its potential for misuse, the U.S. Intelligence Community designated genetic editing a ‘Weapon of Mass Destruction and Proliferation.’”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It was a huge relief to see CRISPR mentioned right from the get-go, because I really sold this story to our editors. It also made me feel better about expensing Sour Patch Kids and Raisinets.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW\u003c/strong>: To get technical for a second, the title screen is sort of accurate. Yes, James Clapper, then the director of national intelligence, did \u003ca href=\"https://www.dni.gov/files/documents/SASC_Unclassified_2016_ATA_SFR_FINAL.pdf\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">list genome-editing as a threat\u003c/a> in 2016. But when I saw the 1993 line, I kind of chuckled to myself. At first, I thought, sorry, Jennifer Doudna and \u003ca href=\"https://www.statnews.com/2015/11/06/hollywood-inspired-scientist-rewrite-code-life/\" rel=\"noopener\">Feng Zhang\u003c/a>, apparently The Rock beat you by like 20 years, \u003ca href=\"https://www.statnews.com/2017/02/16/crispr-patent-decision-six-takeaways/\" rel=\"noopener\">your patent claims\u003c/a> are worthless. But then I thought more about it and realized what they were referring to. This history of modern CRISPR discovery does, \u003ca href=\"http://www.cell.com/cell/pdf/S0092-8674(15)01705-5.pdf\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">by some accounts\u003c/a>, date back to 1993, even though the term CRISPR wasn’t used for another decade or so. And the title page suggests that scientists were using the system to edit genomes 25 years ago, which we know was not the case — that’s a much more recent feat. Anyway, I’ll get off my soapbox now.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Megan, to my surprise, the movie started in space. What’s up with that?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN\u003c/strong>: I was not surprised whatsoever that this movie started in space. But, essentially, an evil company is testing CRISPR in space on a lab rat. Only the rat becomes a gigantic rat, the space shuttle explodes, and three CRISPR vials fall to earth. Enter Dwayne Johnson and his best friend, George, the albino gorilla he rescued from poachers and who he communicates with using sign language.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>George and two other animals — a wolf and a crocodile — are “infected” with CRISPR. It makes them grow to gigantic proportions and become very aggressive. And in the wolf’s case, it also grew bat wings. But that’s not exactly how CRISPR works.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ciframe loading=\"lazy\" title=\"RAMPAGE - OFFICIAL TRAILER 1 [HD]\" width=\"500\" height=\"281\" src=\"https://www.youtube.com/embed/coOKvrsmQiI?feature=oembed\" frameborder=\"0\" allow=\"accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share\" allowfullscreen>\u003c/iframe>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW:\u003c/strong> I knew this movie was going to be good when one of the astronauts who is trying to escape the shuttle is frantically radioing back to earth. Someone over the radio chimes in that “the test subject is a rat,” and the astronaut replies, “Not anymore.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And, yes, that’s not exactly how CRISPR works, but it’s not completely off base either! The idea is that the biotech company “weaponized” CRISPR research and introduced the genes of a bunch of other animals into our three monster-animals to give them traits such as those bat wings, or the spikes of some other animal, or the strength or regenerative abilities of certain kinds of bugs. This is all explained very quickly in some exposition by our disgraced yet heroic geneticist played by Naomie Harris (whom I last saw in “Moonlight,” and here’s hoping that, like that movie, “Rampage” scores a surprise best picture win at the Oscars). “I’m talking about extremely specific results,” says Naomie, who, in my mind, I am on a first-name basis with.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>One question I have is whether these animal features are polygenic as opposed to tied to one gene. That would make it a lot harder to introduce them into another species. But scientists have CRISPR’d beagles to make them super jacked, so it’s not insane that CRISPR could be used to change the features of an animal. Whether it could be used to double the size of a gorilla overnight, well, that might be a different story. And for the beagles, the CRISPR’ing happened when the dogs were embryos, not fully grown.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The CRISPR’d animals of “Rampage” also become super aggressive, and behavior might be harder to change through editing. Maybe they just ramped up testosterone production somehow? I don’t know, Naomie didn’t explain that part.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>You raised a good point as we left the movie, Megan. Where are the regulators?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN:\u003c/strong> All of the CRISPR work in this movie seemed to be WILDLY unregulated. There’s no FDA cameo here. There’s no Scott Gottlieb in skinny jeans. There is Jeffrey Dean Morgan, whom I will refer to as Denny Duquette, his character in “Grey’s Anatomy,” from this point forward. He plays a government agent with a faint Foghorn Leghorn accent who helps The Rock and Naomie Harris take on the CRISPR company, called Energyne.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW:\u003c/strong> Best line from Jeffrey Dean Morgan (said in his weird Foghorn Leghorn accent, which is not faint at all): “When science s***s the bed, I’m the guy they call to clean the sheets.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>MEGAN: It’s Denny Duquette, but, yes, that was amazing. In real life, there’s a whole system that keeps research in the U.S. involving CRISPR in check. The Food and Drug Administration and the National Institutes of Health regulate CRISPR as it relates to medical research, of course. But the Environmental Protection Agency and the Department of Agriculture also play a role in overseeing uses of CRISPR. And the Department of Defense — which is interested in genome-editing as a potential bioterrorism threat — has poured a lot of money into CRISPR research. So there are a lot of people overseeing this kind of work. Not just Denny.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW:\u003c/strong> Exactly, although the dastardly siblings running Energyne (who complain about their stock price tanking after their space shuttle explodes!) maybe found a way around all of them, you know, by like doing their work in space. Anyone home at NASA?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>On a different note, this did make me think of a common movie plot point. As our colleague Damian Garde wrote last year, Hollywood loves a biopharma villain. There’s clearly some fear among the public about what scientists can do, particularly when it comes to rewriting the code of life. I do wonder if this movie will be people’s introduction to CRISPR. Are they going to go home and Google it and see headlines invoking “designer babies”? Is this just going to make people scared of CRISPR, even if they know that it probably won’t lead to a mutant crocodile that can King-Kong-style crawl up the Sears Tower? This is totally made up, but I imagine the marketing people at CRISPR Therapeutics are discussing this right now!\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN:\u003c/strong> Side note, the director of this movie 100 percent took a Chicago architecture boat tour, because they hit all the major landmarks. But, yes, I do think this will be the first introduction a lot of people have to CRISPR. And as much as I absolutely loved this movie — I will be seeing it at least four more times in theaters, thanks MoviePass — I do think it played fast and loose with some of the science around CRISPR, which is a real thing that actually exists. I know it’s science fiction, but the closest thing I could find on the crew list to a science adviser was a “genetics lab tech advisor.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW:\u003c/strong> I’m definitely giving this movie too much credit, and you’re absolutely right, but there were things in the movie that made me think of real CRISPR issues. Naomie Harris’ character was trying to use CRISPR to cure her brother of some unidentified disease. And her big discovery was how to ensure that CRISPR complexes could be delivered to every cell in the body, not just a few. Granted, efficient CRISPR delivery had some not-great consequences when it happened to a crocodile, but it’s a huge goal for researchers using CRISPR or other types of gene therapy for clinical purposes: ensuring that edits happen in enough cells to, for example, generate enough of a normal protein to overcome the faulty protein produced by a certain disease mutation.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN:\u003c/strong> At least The Rock and the rest of the “Rampage” team own up to the fact that they take “great liberties with the science” in the film’s production notes. Here’s what The Rock said: “The science is fascinating. But we had to maintain that balance between delivering on a scientific perspective that makes sense and making sure we’re right around the next corner winking at the audience and letting them know we’re all in on this: Hey, we’re making a big, fun movie about a crocodile with 1118 giant teeth, and a gorilla the size of a house, who likes to flip me off.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As an audience member, I will gladly let The Rock wink at me, even if it means sparing a little scientific accuracy.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW:\u003c/strong> I did hear you giggling a lot whenever The Rock was on screen.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN:\u003c/strong> Who wasn’t?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Let’s talk about how they want to stop the destruction of the entire city of Chicago and potentially the world by delivering an antidote. The antidote, we’re told, will curb the unchecked aggression of the animals but not reverse the other changes, like bringing George back to his original 7-foot-tall size. But that’s more in line with Pokemon than actual CRISPR science. In theory, you could re-edit the genes of an animal again after editing them initially with CRISPR, but there’s no magic solution to immediately reverse CRISPR and bring peace to the Windy City like the movie suggests. And if there were, I’m not confident you could deliver it by putting it in the purse of a woman who then gets consumed by a CRISPR’d animal. Which happens.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW:\u003c/strong> The antidote at one point is described as a giant “chill pill.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And here I am again making a reach, but, whatever, this movie’s got layers. When they were talking about an antidote or reversing those changes, I immediately thought about gene drive! Granted, that’s a different use of CRISPR — editing animals to force traits throughout a whole species — and reversing gene drive isn’t just re-editing the animals that have already been edited. But researchers who are working on gene drive are cognizant of the fact that playing with nature can have unintended consequences, so it’s probably a good idea to have a real-life CTRL-Z at the ready.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN:\u003c/strong> Agree wholeheartedly. I and the entire city of Chicago and the suburbs (Go Cats!) would like to thank science for the antidote. Final thoughts on the science, Drew?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW:\u003c/strong> I’m sorry I’m still harping on this, but back to the fear of genome-editing. Obviously, there are a whole lot of ethical and safety issues involved with playing with DNA, and I think most scientists take those seriously. But it’s interesting to see this movie given that we now have treatments on the market involving editing DNA. Sure, they’re not CRISPR-based therapies, but clinical trials using CRISPR are recruiting patients. And the CAR-T therapies and the gene therapy Luxturna (see this piece by our colleague Eric Boodman to get a sense of how it works) are big deals for patients, and there are a lot more coming down the pike.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN:\u003c/strong> That was as subtle a product placement as the Dave & Buster’s sign that gets torn off a building in “Rampage.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW:\u003c/strong> I did see you scramble to write that part down in your notebook when it happened. Anyway, your final thoughts, Megan, the Statler to my Waldorf?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN:\u003c/strong> There was one health-related subplot here we didn’t get to, which was how The Rock was able to take on three giant animals, scale burning buildings, and save the world after being SHOT THROUGH THE ABDOMEN with roughly half an hour left in the movie. He said the bullet missed all of his vital organs, but still. Swoon. In my notes, I scribbled, “The Rock. Man of many talents. Also gorilla whisperer.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>One final question: If you were in a real-life “Rampage” situation, what would you do?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW:\u003c/strong> The first lesson is, listen to Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. If he says don’t put George the gorilla on a plane, don’t put him on a plane! How about you?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN:\u003c/strong> I would hop on The Rock’s back and let him carry me while I used my inhaler.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>ANDREW:\u003c/strong> So what do you think, can we convince our editors to send us to an advanced screening of The Rock’s next movie? See you at “Skyscraper”?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>MEGAN:\u003c/strong> Catch me at the midnight premiere.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Megan’s grades\u003c/strong>:\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>Scientific\u003c/em>: A for effort, B- for execution\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Cinematic\u003c/em>: Two out of two Rock biceps\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Andrew’s grades\u003c/strong>:\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>Scientific\u003c/em>: B-, though honestly I haven’t stopped thinking about it\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Cinematic\u003c/em>: Let’s just say I can’t wait for “Rampage 2: Editin’ Boogaloo”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "floatright"
},
"numeric": [
"floatright"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>Thanks to STAT’s very own CRISPR expert, Sharon Begley, for reviewing this review to make sure we didn’t screw anything up.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/science/1922417/monster-animals-does-rampage-get-the-science-of-crispr-right",
"authors": [
"byline_science_1922417"
],
"categories": [
"science_2874",
"science_30",
"science_35",
"science_3151",
"science_40"
],
"featImg": "science_1922421",
"label": "source_science_1922417"
},
"science_1921659": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "science_1921659",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1921659",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1522760406000
]
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "take-two-leeches-and-call-me-in-the-morning",
"title": "Take Two Leeches And Call Me In The Morning",
"publishDate": 1522760406,
"format": "video",
"headTitle": "Take Two Leeches And Call Me In The Morning | KQED",
"labelTerm": {
"term": 1935,
"site": "science"
},
"content": "\u003cp>\u003cem>Video produced by Josh Cassidy\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[dl_subscribe]Leeches get a bad rap — but they might not deserve it. Yes, they’re creepy crawly bloodsuckers. And they can instill an almost primal sense of disgust and revulsion. Humphrey Bogart’s character in the 1951 film “The African Queen” even went so far as to call them “\u003ca href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0043265/?ref_=vi_close\">filthy little devils\u003c/a>.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But the humble leech is making a comeback. Contrary to the typical derogatory definition of a human “leech,” this critter is increasingly playing a key role as a sidekick to scientists and doctors, simply by being its bloodthirsty self.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Distant cousins of the earthworm, most leech species are parasites that feed on the blood of animals and humans alike. They are often found in freshwater and navigate either by swimming or by inching themselves along, using two suckers — one at each end of their body — to anchor themselves.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921760\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 500px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-swimming.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1921760\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-swimming.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"500\" height=\"280\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Aquatic leeches flatten themselves to swim with an undulating motion. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Upon reaching an unsuspecting host, a leech will surreptitiously attach itself and begin to feed. It uses a triangular set of three teeth to cut in, and secretes a suite of chemicals to thin the blood and numb the skin so that its presence goes undetected.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921762\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 500px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-mouth-from-below.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1921762\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-mouth-from-below.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"500\" height=\"280\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Leeches clamp on to their host with their front sucker, then use three teeth to cut in and start feeding. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED; Quentin Gaudry, University of Maryland; Michael Baltzley, Western Oregon University; Krista Todd, Westminster College)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Some leech species can also live on land, thriving in humid environments like the forests of southern Asia. Biologists \u003ca href=\"https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/14772000.2018.1433729?journalCode=tsab20&\">recently reported\u003c/a> that leeches in that region can provide a valuable snapshot of which animals are present in a particular area: The parasites carry their host’s blood, and DNA, within their gut after each meal.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“They find things you don’t find,” said \u003ca href=\"http://www.michaeltessler.net/\">Michael Tessler\u003c/a>, a postdoctoral scholar at the \u003ca href=\"https://www.amnh.org/\">American Museum of Natural History\u003c/a> in New York. As an added bonus (depending on your perspective), “leeches are very excited to find humans,” he said, which makes sample collection quick and easy.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Tessler and several colleagues gathered 750 small terrestrial leeches in the genus \u003cem>Haemadipsa \u003c/em>from Cambodia, Bangladesh and southern China. Then they analyzed the DNA from each leech’s bloodmeal to identify the unwilling blood donors. With this analysis, the scientists were able to identify wild and domestic animals common in those areas, including some species of concern for conservation.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The study also revealed a few surprises. Some leech meals had come from a few bird species, and one came from a bat. “Clearly these things get around,” Tessler said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This mobility makes leeches a great complement to time-consuming traditional methods of monitoring biodiversity, like motion-sensing cameras, he added. Using a combination of the two approaches could be especially important in future work to preserve endangered species, Tessler said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Beyond their utility in field biology, leeches also have an important role to play in surgeons’ medical kits.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The association between doctors and leeches dates back to the ancient Egyptians and ancient Greeks. According to Greek philosophers, illness was the result of an imbalance in bodily fluids, or humors. Applying leeches to patients would help restore a proper balance. Leeches were widely used as a cure-all for an array of ailments, especially in medieval Europe.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>These practices were quickly relegated to the status of quackery by the advent of modern medicine in the 20th century. Nowadays, however, medical leeches are experiencing a renaissance, as their bloodsucking ability is tuned to a more scientific purpose.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Leeches come in handy during reconstructive surgeries, such as those to reattach fingers, according to Dr. Rudolf Buntic, a hand surgeon and director of microsurgery for \u003ca href=\"http://www.cpmc.org/\">California Pacific Medical Center\u003c/a> in San Francisco. During such a procedure, surgeons repair small arteries that carry blood into the severed digit. However, the tiny veins that carry blood back out may be too damaged or too small to repair, leaving blood to stagnate in the finger.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That’s when \u003cem>Hirudo medicinalis\u003c/em> comes in.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921670\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 640px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-large wp-image-1921670\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-1020x573.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-1020x573.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-1920x1079.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-1180x663.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-960x539.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-520x292.jpg 520w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger.jpg 1922w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Medical leeches, like this \u003cem>Hirudo medicinalis\u003c/em>, can help maintain blood circulation in reattached fingers, giving the body time to grow new veins. \u003ccite>((Walter Lin/California Pacific Medical Center))\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“The leech acts as a vein,” said Buntic.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It draws stale blood out of the reattached finger as it feeds, allowing fresh oxygenated blood to come in. Chemicals in the leech’s saliva also help prevent blood clots from forming in the damaged tissue. Doctors apply fresh leeches over the course of about 10 days. This provides enough time for new tiny veins to regrow and create channels for blood to leave the patient’s finger on its own, Buntic said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Throughout the treatment, surgeons order leeches from the pharmacy, just as they would any other medicine.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921672\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 640px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-1921672 size-large\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-1020x573.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-1020x573.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-1920x1079.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-1180x663.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-960x539.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-520x292.jpg 520w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC.jpg 1922w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">When surgeons request medical leeches, pharmacists at California Pacific Medical Center answer the call, wrangling the leeches into ‘pill’ bottles. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>If these little guys still give you the heebie-jeebies, don’t worry: They won’t be showing up at your local drugstore anytime soon.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>You might run into them in some research labs, however. \u003ca href=\"https://mcb.berkeley.edu/faculty/CDB/weisblatd.html\">David Weisblat\u003c/a>, a biologist at the University of California, Berkeley, has been studying leech development and evolution for more than 40 years. He has recently started a project to learn more about leech behavior and neurobiology.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This involves placing them on a checkerboard of sorts, made of sandpaper. The squares alternate between rough and smooth grains. Many of the leeches, small snail-hunters in the genus \u003cem>Helobdella\u003c/em>, have a strong preference for the smoother squares, moving in strictly diagonal patterns.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921673\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 640px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-1921673 size-large\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-1020x765.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"640\" height=\"480\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-1020x765.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-160x120.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-800x600.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-768x576.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-1920x1440.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-1180x885.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-960x720.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-240x180.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-375x281.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-520x390.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">David Weisblat uses this sandpaper checkerboard to study leech behavior and decisions. The leeches have a strong preference for smooth surfaces over rough. \u003ccite>(David Weisblat/UC Berkeley)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“It’s like a little pawn on the chessboard that’s gone crazy,” Weisblat said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Though leeches may have an unimpressive nervous system by vertebrate standards, they are still capable of using information from their environment to make decisions, said Weisblat. And figuring out how this process works is easier in a leech than in the nervous system of mice or rats. In understanding how leeches find their way around with so few neurons, we can begin to understand how the nervous system processes and encodes information, Weisblat said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921674\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 640px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-large wp-image-1921674\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-1020x573.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-1020x573.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-1920x1079.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-1180x663.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-960x539.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-520x292.jpg 520w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker.jpg 1922w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Leeches can “inchworm” along using their suckers as anchors. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Capturing the way leeches sense and move through their environment could also one day translate to bioengineering applications, like designing small exploratory robotics, said Weisblat. “Leeches can go on glass surfaces, crawling with their suckers, and exploring all sorts of different ways,” he said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“It’s pretty amazing, when you think about how simple they are.”\u003c/p>\n\n",
"blocks": [],
"excerpt": "The same blood-sucking leeches feared by hikers and swimmers are making a comeback... in hospitals. Once used for questionable treatments, leeches now help doctors complete complex surgeries to reattach severed body parts.",
"status": "publish",
"parent": 0,
"modified": 1738969996,
"stats": {
"hasAudio": false,
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"paragraphCount": 27,
"wordCount": 1160
},
"headData": {
"title": "Take Two Leeches And Call Me In The Morning | KQED",
"description": "The same blood-sucking leeches feared by hikers and swimmers are making a comeback... in hospitals. Once used for questionable treatments, leeches now help doctors complete complex surgeries to reattach severed body parts.",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogDescription": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"twDescription": "",
"twImgId": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Take Two Leeches And Call Me In The Morning",
"datePublished": "2018-04-03T06:00:06-07:00",
"dateModified": "2025-02-07T15:13:16-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"videoEmbed": "https://youtu.be/O-0SFWPLaII",
"pbsMediaId": "3015710359",
"sticky": false,
"nprByline": "\u003cbr>Emma Hiolski\u003c/br>",
"excludeFromSiteSearch": "Include",
"showOnAuthorArchivePages": "No",
"articleAge": "0",
"path": "/science/1921659/take-two-leeches-and-call-me-in-the-morning",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003cem>Video produced by Josh Cassidy\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "dl_subscribe",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": ""
},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>Leeches get a bad rap — but they might not deserve it. Yes, they’re creepy crawly bloodsuckers. And they can instill an almost primal sense of disgust and revulsion. Humphrey Bogart’s character in the 1951 film “The African Queen” even went so far as to call them “\u003ca href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0043265/?ref_=vi_close\">filthy little devils\u003c/a>.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But the humble leech is making a comeback. Contrary to the typical derogatory definition of a human “leech,” this critter is increasingly playing a key role as a sidekick to scientists and doctors, simply by being its bloodthirsty self.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Distant cousins of the earthworm, most leech species are parasites that feed on the blood of animals and humans alike. They are often found in freshwater and navigate either by swimming or by inching themselves along, using two suckers — one at each end of their body — to anchor themselves.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921760\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 500px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-swimming.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1921760\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-swimming.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"500\" height=\"280\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Aquatic leeches flatten themselves to swim with an undulating motion. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Upon reaching an unsuspecting host, a leech will surreptitiously attach itself and begin to feed. It uses a triangular set of three teeth to cut in, and secretes a suite of chemicals to thin the blood and numb the skin so that its presence goes undetected.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921762\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 500px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-mouth-from-below.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1921762\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-mouth-from-below.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"500\" height=\"280\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Leeches clamp on to their host with their front sucker, then use three teeth to cut in and start feeding. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED; Quentin Gaudry, University of Maryland; Michael Baltzley, Western Oregon University; Krista Todd, Westminster College)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Some leech species can also live on land, thriving in humid environments like the forests of southern Asia. Biologists \u003ca href=\"https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/14772000.2018.1433729?journalCode=tsab20&\">recently reported\u003c/a> that leeches in that region can provide a valuable snapshot of which animals are present in a particular area: The parasites carry their host’s blood, and DNA, within their gut after each meal.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“They find things you don’t find,” said \u003ca href=\"http://www.michaeltessler.net/\">Michael Tessler\u003c/a>, a postdoctoral scholar at the \u003ca href=\"https://www.amnh.org/\">American Museum of Natural History\u003c/a> in New York. As an added bonus (depending on your perspective), “leeches are very excited to find humans,” he said, which makes sample collection quick and easy.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Tessler and several colleagues gathered 750 small terrestrial leeches in the genus \u003cem>Haemadipsa \u003c/em>from Cambodia, Bangladesh and southern China. Then they analyzed the DNA from each leech’s bloodmeal to identify the unwilling blood donors. With this analysis, the scientists were able to identify wild and domestic animals common in those areas, including some species of concern for conservation.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The study also revealed a few surprises. Some leech meals had come from a few bird species, and one came from a bat. “Clearly these things get around,” Tessler said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This mobility makes leeches a great complement to time-consuming traditional methods of monitoring biodiversity, like motion-sensing cameras, he added. Using a combination of the two approaches could be especially important in future work to preserve endangered species, Tessler said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Beyond their utility in field biology, leeches also have an important role to play in surgeons’ medical kits.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The association between doctors and leeches dates back to the ancient Egyptians and ancient Greeks. According to Greek philosophers, illness was the result of an imbalance in bodily fluids, or humors. Applying leeches to patients would help restore a proper balance. Leeches were widely used as a cure-all for an array of ailments, especially in medieval Europe.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>These practices were quickly relegated to the status of quackery by the advent of modern medicine in the 20th century. Nowadays, however, medical leeches are experiencing a renaissance, as their bloodsucking ability is tuned to a more scientific purpose.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Leeches come in handy during reconstructive surgeries, such as those to reattach fingers, according to Dr. Rudolf Buntic, a hand surgeon and director of microsurgery for \u003ca href=\"http://www.cpmc.org/\">California Pacific Medical Center\u003c/a> in San Francisco. During such a procedure, surgeons repair small arteries that carry blood into the severed digit. However, the tiny veins that carry blood back out may be too damaged or too small to repair, leaving blood to stagnate in the finger.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That’s when \u003cem>Hirudo medicinalis\u003c/em> comes in.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921670\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 640px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-large wp-image-1921670\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-1020x573.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-1020x573.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-1920x1079.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-1180x663.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-960x539.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger-520x292.jpg 520w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-leech-on-reatached-finger.jpg 1922w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Medical leeches, like this \u003cem>Hirudo medicinalis\u003c/em>, can help maintain blood circulation in reattached fingers, giving the body time to grow new veins. \u003ccite>((Walter Lin/California Pacific Medical Center))\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“The leech acts as a vein,” said Buntic.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It draws stale blood out of the reattached finger as it feeds, allowing fresh oxygenated blood to come in. Chemicals in the leech’s saliva also help prevent blood clots from forming in the damaged tissue. Doctors apply fresh leeches over the course of about 10 days. This provides enough time for new tiny veins to regrow and create channels for blood to leave the patient’s finger on its own, Buntic said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Throughout the treatment, surgeons order leeches from the pharmacy, just as they would any other medicine.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921672\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 640px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-1921672 size-large\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-1020x573.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-1020x573.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-1920x1079.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-1180x663.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-960x539.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC-520x292.jpg 520w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-in-bottle-wide-at-CPMC.jpg 1922w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">When surgeons request medical leeches, pharmacists at California Pacific Medical Center answer the call, wrangling the leeches into ‘pill’ bottles. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>If these little guys still give you the heebie-jeebies, don’t worry: They won’t be showing up at your local drugstore anytime soon.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>You might run into them in some research labs, however. \u003ca href=\"https://mcb.berkeley.edu/faculty/CDB/weisblatd.html\">David Weisblat\u003c/a>, a biologist at the University of California, Berkeley, has been studying leech development and evolution for more than 40 years. He has recently started a project to learn more about leech behavior and neurobiology.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This involves placing them on a checkerboard of sorts, made of sandpaper. The squares alternate between rough and smooth grains. Many of the leeches, small snail-hunters in the genus \u003cem>Helobdella\u003c/em>, have a strong preference for the smoother squares, moving in strictly diagonal patterns.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921673\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 640px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-1921673 size-large\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-1020x765.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"640\" height=\"480\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-1020x765.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-160x120.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-800x600.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-768x576.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-1920x1440.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-1180x885.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-960x720.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-240x180.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-375x281.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/IMG_2776-520x390.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">David Weisblat uses this sandpaper checkerboard to study leech behavior and decisions. The leeches have a strong preference for smooth surfaces over rough. \u003ccite>(David Weisblat/UC Berkeley)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“It’s like a little pawn on the chessboard that’s gone crazy,” Weisblat said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Though leeches may have an unimpressive nervous system by vertebrate standards, they are still capable of using information from their environment to make decisions, said Weisblat. And figuring out how this process works is easier in a leech than in the nervous system of mice or rats. In understanding how leeches find their way around with so few neurons, we can begin to understand how the nervous system processes and encodes information, Weisblat said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921674\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 640px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-large wp-image-1921674\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-1020x573.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-1020x573.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-1920x1079.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-1180x663.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-960x539.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker-520x292.jpg 520w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/04/DL506-Leeches-Medicinal-leech-showing-suckers-with-mouth-on-right-sucker.jpg 1922w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Leeches can “inchworm” along using their suckers as anchors. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Capturing the way leeches sense and move through their environment could also one day translate to bioengineering applications, like designing small exploratory robotics, said Weisblat. “Leeches can go on glass surfaces, crawling with their suckers, and exploring all sorts of different ways,” he said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "floatright"
},
"numeric": [
"floatright"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“It’s pretty amazing, when you think about how simple they are.”\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/science/1921659/take-two-leeches-and-call-me-in-the-morning",
"authors": [
"byline_science_1921659"
],
"series": [
"science_1935"
],
"categories": [
"science_2874",
"science_30",
"science_39",
"science_86"
],
"featImg": "science_1921773",
"label": "science_1935"
},
"science_1920972": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "science_1920972",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1920972",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1521550830000
]
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "how-ticks-dig-in-with-a-mouth-full-of-hooks",
"title": "How Ticks Dig In With a Mouth Full of Hooks",
"publishDate": 1521550830,
"format": "video",
"headTitle": "How Ticks Dig In With a Mouth Full of Hooks | KQED",
"labelTerm": {
"term": 1935,
"site": "science"
},
"content": "\u003cp>[dl_subscribe]Spring is here. Unfortunately for hikers and picnickers out enjoying the warmer weather, the new season is prime time for ticks, which can transmit bacteria that cause Lyme disease.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>How they latch on — and stay on — is a feat of engineering that scientists have been piecing together. Once you know how a tick’s mouth works, you understand why it’s impossible to simply flick a tick.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The key to their success is a menacing mouth covered in hooks that they use to get under the surface of our skin and attach themselves for several days while they fatten up on our blood.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921328\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1921328\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1080\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A tick’s mouth is covered in hooks that help it dig into the skin and stay attached for several days. This young tick’s mouth was photographed under the microscope at San Francisco State University. \u003ccite>(Annette Chan/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“Ticks have a lovely, evolved mouth part for doing exactly what they need to do, which is extended feeding,” said Kerry Padgett, supervising public health biologist at the \u003ca href=\"https://www.cdph.ca.gov/Programs/CID/DCDC/Pages/Tick-Borne-Diseases.aspx\">California Department of Public Health\u003c/a> in Richmond. “They’re not like a mosquito that can just put their mouth parts in and out nicely, like a hypodermic needle.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Instead, a tick digs in using two sets of hooks. Each set looks like a hand with three hooked fingers. The hooks dig in and wriggle into the skin. Then these “hands” bend in unison to perform approximately half-a-dozen breaststrokes that pull skin out of the way so the tick can push in a long stubby part called the hypostome.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921330\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 500px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_ANIMATION_OF_TICK_USING_HOOKS_ON_MOUTHPARTS_TO_GET_INTO_SKIN.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-1921330 size-full\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_ANIMATION_OF_TICK_USING_HOOKS_ON_MOUTHPARTS_TO_GET_INTO_SKIN.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"500\" height=\"281\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">In this animation, a tick uses two sets of hooks on its mouth to dig into the skin and push in a long part called the hypostome. Rows of backward-facing hooks on the bottom of the hypostome will anchor the tick to the skin. \u003ccite>(Teodros Hailye/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“It’s almost like swimming into the skin,” said \u003ca href=\"https://www.tu-braunschweig.de/geooekologie/institut/usa/personal/dania_richter/index.html\">Dania Richter\u003c/a>, a biologist at the Technische Universität Braunschweig in Germany, who has studied the mechanism closely. “By bending the hooks it’s engaging the skin. It’s pulling the skin when it retracts.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The bottom of their long hypostome is also covered in rows of hooks that give it the look of a chainsaw. Those hooks act like mini-harpoons, anchoring the tick to us for the long haul.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“They’re teeth that are backwards facing, similar to one of those gates you would drive over, but you’re not allowed to back up or else you’d puncture your tires,” said Padgett.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Compounds in ticks’ saliva help blood pool under the surface of our skin. Ticks sip it, like drinking from a straw.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Ticks need to stay firmly attached because they’re going in for a meal that can last for three to 10 days, depending on whether they’re young ticks or adult females. Compare that to a speedy mosquito, which digs in to human skin, sucks blood and leaves, all within seconds.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921331\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1921px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1921331\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1921\" height=\"1081\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2.jpg 1921w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2-1920x1080.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1921px) 100vw, 1921px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A tick nymph, or young tick, has dug its mouth into a human arm. Left to its own devices, this western blacklegged tick nymph will stay attached for three to four days, during which time it will drink enough blood to later molt and grow into an adult. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>For ticks, the stakes are high because instead of taking small meals they need to gorge themselves each time. A western blacklegged tick, the species that transmits Lyme bacteria to humans along the Pacific Coast, lives three years. But in that time it eats only three huge meals, each one necessary for it to grow to its next life stage. It needs enough blood to grow from larva to nymph, nymph to adult, and then for females to lay their eggs.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>An adult female tick drinks so much blood during its one meal that its weight increases 200 times, said Richter.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921333\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 500px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_LARVA_AFTER_BLOOD_MEAL_500.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1921333\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_LARVA_AFTER_BLOOD_MEAL_500.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"500\" height=\"281\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A tiny tick larva after its blood meal at the research lab of Andrea Swei, at San Francisco State University. Once full, ticks fall off their host, molt and grow to the next life stage. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>So what’s the best way to get rid of a tick?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The hooks that make these infrequent, but long, banquets possible are what make it hard to pull out a tick. But pulling one out isn’t as hard as you may think. Padgett recommends grabbing the tick close to the skin using a pair of fine tweezers and simply pulling straight up.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“No twisting or jerking,” she said. “Use a smooth motion pulling up.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921335\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 500px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_HOW_TO_PULL_A_TICK_OUT_500.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1921335\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_HOW_TO_PULL_A_TICK_OUT_500.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"500\" height=\"281\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Public health experts recommend grabbing the tick close to the skin using a pair of fine tweezers and simply pulling straight up. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Padgett warned against using other strategies.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Don’t use Vaseline or try to burn the tick or use a cotton swab soaked in soft soap or any of these other techniques that might take a little longer or might not work at all,” she said. “You really want to remove the tick as soon as possible.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Time is of the essence. If an infected tick bites humans, it actually takes at least 24 hours before Lyme bacteria start swimming out in the saliva the tick drips into its host.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So don’t worry if the tick’s mouth parts — the ones covered in those tenacious hooks — stay behind when you pull.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“The mouth parts are not going to transmit disease to people,” said Padgett.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Once the tick’s body is no longer attached, it can’t transmit bacteria. And if the mouth stays behind in your skin, it will eventually work its way out, sort of like a splinter does, she said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921336\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 500px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_QUESTING_500.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1921336\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_QUESTING_500.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"500\" height=\"281\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">In a behavior known as questing, an adult female western blacklegged tick waves its two front legs and waits for a host to latch onto at Tilden Park in Berkeley in January. Ticks can sense humans and other animals by the carbon dioxide they give off. Adult ticks are active in the winter. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>About 100 cases of Lyme disease are diagnosed each year in California, where infections occur mainly in Northern California. Ticks need humid environments and don’t do well in the desert.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention estimates that more than 300,000 cases of Lyme disease occur each year in the United States, mainly in the Northeast and upper Midwest. Initial symptoms may include headaches, fatigue, and muscle and joint pain, as well as a rash at the site of the bite that develops up to a month later. If the infection isn’t treated with antibiotics, it can lead to problems such as nerve pain.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921338\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1921338\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1080\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Most people who get Lyme disease in California get it from a western blacklegged nymphal tick like this one at the research lab of Andrea Swei, at San Francisco State University. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>The spring brings a particular threat to Northern California, where small immature ticks called nymphs become more abundant. Nymphs can be found year-round in Northern California, but their activity peaks in late spring through early summer, according to the California Department of Public Health.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Nymphs are hard to find because they’re about the size of a poppyseed and less colorful than the red female adult western blacklegged ticks that are active in Northern California’s forests in the winter. Nymphs are light brown, with dark innards visible through their translucent bodies.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Most people are infected by nymphal ticks because they’re small and you tend not to catch them,” said \u003ca href=\"https://www.smcmvcd.org/profile/tara-roth-phd\">Tara Roth\u003c/a>, an ecologist with the \u003ca href=\"https://www.smcmvcd.org/ticks\">San Mateo County Mosquito and Vector Control District\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Nymphs are also more of a threat than adult ticks because they’re more likely to carry Lyme bacteria, said Padgett.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921347\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-1921347 size-full\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1080\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">An adult female western blacklegged tick on a blade of grass at Tilden Park in Berkeley in January. Only about 1 percent of adult female ticks in the park carry Lyme bacteria, according to Kerry Padgett, of the California Department of Public Health. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Adult ticks carry Lyme bacteria less often than nymphs because of a biological quirk in California. Ticks that carry Lyme bacteria and feed on the western fence lizard lose their infection in the process. The lizard’s blood actually clears the infection, said \u003ca href=\"http://biology.sfsu.edu/people/andrea-swei\">Andrea Swei\u003c/a>, who studies ticks and disease transmission at San Francisco State University.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Ticks most commonly feed on the lizards when they’re larvae and nymphs. If a nymph had been infected before it fed on a lizard, it will no longer be infected after it grows into an adult.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921340\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 500px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_CLAW_ON_TICK_FOOT.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1921340\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_CLAW_ON_TICK_FOOT.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"500\" height=\"281\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A tick nymph will use claws on its two front legs to latch onto a host for a blood meal. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Studies in Northern California indicate that western blacklegged nymphs are most commonly found in leaf litter, and on wood products such as downed logs, tree trunks and even wooden picnic tables, according to the state public health department.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“We also find them on mossy rocks,” said Padgett.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Experts say a key way to avoid tick bites is to be prepared. Wear long pants and put on repellent next time you’re planning a hike or picnic in an area where ticks and their impressive hooks may be lurking.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"blocks": [],
"excerpt": "Spring is here and so are ticks, with a mouth full of hooks that they use to dig in and stay on for days.",
"status": "publish",
"parent": 0,
"modified": 1738970085,
"stats": {
"hasAudio": false,
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"paragraphCount": 34,
"wordCount": 1608
},
"headData": {
"title": "How Ticks Dig In With a Mouth Full of Hooks | KQED",
"description": "Spring is here and so are ticks, with a mouth full of hooks that they use to dig in and stay on for days.",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogDescription": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"twDescription": "",
"twImgId": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "How Ticks Dig In With a Mouth Full of Hooks",
"datePublished": "2018-03-20T06:00:30-07:00",
"dateModified": "2025-02-07T15:14:45-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"videoEmbed": "https://youtu.be/_IoOJu2_FKE",
"pbsMediaId": "3015710245",
"sticky": false,
"excludeFromSiteSearch": "Include",
"articleAge": "0",
"path": "/science/1920972/how-ticks-dig-in-with-a-mouth-full-of-hooks",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "dl_subscribe",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": ""
},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>Spring is here. Unfortunately for hikers and picnickers out enjoying the warmer weather, the new season is prime time for ticks, which can transmit bacteria that cause Lyme disease.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>How they latch on — and stay on — is a feat of engineering that scientists have been piecing together. Once you know how a tick’s mouth works, you understand why it’s impossible to simply flick a tick.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The key to their success is a menacing mouth covered in hooks that they use to get under the surface of our skin and attach themselves for several days while they fatten up on our blood.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921328\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1921328\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1080\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_MOUTHPARTS_CU_1920-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A tick’s mouth is covered in hooks that help it dig into the skin and stay attached for several days. This young tick’s mouth was photographed under the microscope at San Francisco State University. \u003ccite>(Annette Chan/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“Ticks have a lovely, evolved mouth part for doing exactly what they need to do, which is extended feeding,” said Kerry Padgett, supervising public health biologist at the \u003ca href=\"https://www.cdph.ca.gov/Programs/CID/DCDC/Pages/Tick-Borne-Diseases.aspx\">California Department of Public Health\u003c/a> in Richmond. “They’re not like a mosquito that can just put their mouth parts in and out nicely, like a hypodermic needle.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Instead, a tick digs in using two sets of hooks. Each set looks like a hand with three hooked fingers. The hooks dig in and wriggle into the skin. Then these “hands” bend in unison to perform approximately half-a-dozen breaststrokes that pull skin out of the way so the tick can push in a long stubby part called the hypostome.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921330\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 500px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_ANIMATION_OF_TICK_USING_HOOKS_ON_MOUTHPARTS_TO_GET_INTO_SKIN.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-1921330 size-full\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_ANIMATION_OF_TICK_USING_HOOKS_ON_MOUTHPARTS_TO_GET_INTO_SKIN.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"500\" height=\"281\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">In this animation, a tick uses two sets of hooks on its mouth to dig into the skin and push in a long part called the hypostome. Rows of backward-facing hooks on the bottom of the hypostome will anchor the tick to the skin. \u003ccite>(Teodros Hailye/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“It’s almost like swimming into the skin,” said \u003ca href=\"https://www.tu-braunschweig.de/geooekologie/institut/usa/personal/dania_richter/index.html\">Dania Richter\u003c/a>, a biologist at the Technische Universität Braunschweig in Germany, who has studied the mechanism closely. “By bending the hooks it’s engaging the skin. It’s pulling the skin when it retracts.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The bottom of their long hypostome is also covered in rows of hooks that give it the look of a chainsaw. Those hooks act like mini-harpoons, anchoring the tick to us for the long haul.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“They’re teeth that are backwards facing, similar to one of those gates you would drive over, but you’re not allowed to back up or else you’d puncture your tires,” said Padgett.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Compounds in ticks’ saliva help blood pool under the surface of our skin. Ticks sip it, like drinking from a straw.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Ticks need to stay firmly attached because they’re going in for a meal that can last for three to 10 days, depending on whether they’re young ticks or adult females. Compare that to a speedy mosquito, which digs in to human skin, sucks blood and leaves, all within seconds.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921331\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1921px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1921331\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1921\" height=\"1081\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2.jpg 1921w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2-1920x1080.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ATTACHED_TO_HUMAN_SKIN_PROFILE_1920_2-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1921px) 100vw, 1921px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A tick nymph, or young tick, has dug its mouth into a human arm. Left to its own devices, this western blacklegged tick nymph will stay attached for three to four days, during which time it will drink enough blood to later molt and grow into an adult. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>For ticks, the stakes are high because instead of taking small meals they need to gorge themselves each time. A western blacklegged tick, the species that transmits Lyme bacteria to humans along the Pacific Coast, lives three years. But in that time it eats only three huge meals, each one necessary for it to grow to its next life stage. It needs enough blood to grow from larva to nymph, nymph to adult, and then for females to lay their eggs.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>An adult female tick drinks so much blood during its one meal that its weight increases 200 times, said Richter.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921333\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 500px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_LARVA_AFTER_BLOOD_MEAL_500.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1921333\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_LARVA_AFTER_BLOOD_MEAL_500.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"500\" height=\"281\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A tiny tick larva after its blood meal at the research lab of Andrea Swei, at San Francisco State University. Once full, ticks fall off their host, molt and grow to the next life stage. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>So what’s the best way to get rid of a tick?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The hooks that make these infrequent, but long, banquets possible are what make it hard to pull out a tick. But pulling one out isn’t as hard as you may think. Padgett recommends grabbing the tick close to the skin using a pair of fine tweezers and simply pulling straight up.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“No twisting or jerking,” she said. “Use a smooth motion pulling up.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921335\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 500px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_HOW_TO_PULL_A_TICK_OUT_500.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1921335\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_HOW_TO_PULL_A_TICK_OUT_500.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"500\" height=\"281\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Public health experts recommend grabbing the tick close to the skin using a pair of fine tweezers and simply pulling straight up. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Padgett warned against using other strategies.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Don’t use Vaseline or try to burn the tick or use a cotton swab soaked in soft soap or any of these other techniques that might take a little longer or might not work at all,” she said. “You really want to remove the tick as soon as possible.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Time is of the essence. If an infected tick bites humans, it actually takes at least 24 hours before Lyme bacteria start swimming out in the saliva the tick drips into its host.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So don’t worry if the tick’s mouth parts — the ones covered in those tenacious hooks — stay behind when you pull.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“The mouth parts are not going to transmit disease to people,” said Padgett.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Once the tick’s body is no longer attached, it can’t transmit bacteria. And if the mouth stays behind in your skin, it will eventually work its way out, sort of like a splinter does, she said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921336\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 500px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_QUESTING_500.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1921336\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_QUESTING_500.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"500\" height=\"281\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">In a behavior known as questing, an adult female western blacklegged tick waves its two front legs and waits for a host to latch onto at Tilden Park in Berkeley in January. Ticks can sense humans and other animals by the carbon dioxide they give off. Adult ticks are active in the winter. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>About 100 cases of Lyme disease are diagnosed each year in California, where infections occur mainly in Northern California. Ticks need humid environments and don’t do well in the desert.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention estimates that more than 300,000 cases of Lyme disease occur each year in the United States, mainly in the Northeast and upper Midwest. Initial symptoms may include headaches, fatigue, and muscle and joint pain, as well as a rash at the site of the bite that develops up to a month later. If the infection isn’t treated with antibiotics, it can lead to problems such as nerve pain.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921338\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1921338\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1080\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_TICK_NYMPH_ON_HUMAN_SKIN_1920-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Most people who get Lyme disease in California get it from a western blacklegged nymphal tick like this one at the research lab of Andrea Swei, at San Francisco State University. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>The spring brings a particular threat to Northern California, where small immature ticks called nymphs become more abundant. Nymphs can be found year-round in Northern California, but their activity peaks in late spring through early summer, according to the California Department of Public Health.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Nymphs are hard to find because they’re about the size of a poppyseed and less colorful than the red female adult western blacklegged ticks that are active in Northern California’s forests in the winter. Nymphs are light brown, with dark innards visible through their translucent bodies.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Most people are infected by nymphal ticks because they’re small and you tend not to catch them,” said \u003ca href=\"https://www.smcmvcd.org/profile/tara-roth-phd\">Tara Roth\u003c/a>, an ecologist with the \u003ca href=\"https://www.smcmvcd.org/ticks\">San Mateo County Mosquito and Vector Control District\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Nymphs are also more of a threat than adult ticks because they’re more likely to carry Lyme bacteria, said Padgett.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921347\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-1921347 size-full\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1080\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_FEMALE_IXODES_PACIFICUS_TICK_QUESTING_1920-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">An adult female western blacklegged tick on a blade of grass at Tilden Park in Berkeley in January. Only about 1 percent of adult female ticks in the park carry Lyme bacteria, according to Kerry Padgett, of the California Department of Public Health. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Adult ticks carry Lyme bacteria less often than nymphs because of a biological quirk in California. Ticks that carry Lyme bacteria and feed on the western fence lizard lose their infection in the process. The lizard’s blood actually clears the infection, said \u003ca href=\"http://biology.sfsu.edu/people/andrea-swei\">Andrea Swei\u003c/a>, who studies ticks and disease transmission at San Francisco State University.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Ticks most commonly feed on the lizards when they’re larvae and nymphs. If a nymph had been infected before it fed on a lizard, it will no longer be infected after it grows into an adult.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1921340\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 500px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_CLAW_ON_TICK_FOOT.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1921340\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/DL_505TickBite_CLAW_ON_TICK_FOOT.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"500\" height=\"281\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A tick nymph will use claws on its two front legs to latch onto a host for a blood meal. \u003ccite>(Josh Cassidy/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Studies in Northern California indicate that western blacklegged nymphs are most commonly found in leaf litter, and on wood products such as downed logs, tree trunks and even wooden picnic tables, according to the state public health department.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“We also find them on mossy rocks,” said Padgett.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "floatright"
},
"numeric": [
"floatright"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Experts say a key way to avoid tick bites is to be prepared. Wear long pants and put on repellent next time you’re planning a hike or picnic in an area where ticks and their impressive hooks may be lurking.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/science/1920972/how-ticks-dig-in-with-a-mouth-full-of-hooks",
"authors": [
"6186"
],
"series": [
"science_1935"
],
"categories": [
"science_30",
"science_39",
"science_86"
],
"featImg": "science_1920975",
"label": "science_1935"
},
"science_1921220": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "science_1921220",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1921220",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1521169239000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1521169239,
"format": "standard",
"title": "Those Reports That Astronaut Scott Kelly's DNA Changed — They're Wrong",
"headTitle": "Those Reports That Astronaut Scott Kelly’s DNA Changed — They’re Wrong | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>Following several misleading news reports that claimed 7 percent of an identical twin’s DNA changed after he spent one year in space, rendering them no longer identical, NASA reissued the press release clarifying the preliminary findings of their “\u003ca href=\"https://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/station/research/experiments/2104.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Twins Study\u003c/a>.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Mark and Scott Kelly are still identical twins; Scott’s DNA did not fundamentally change,” the \u003ca href=\"https://www.nasa.gov/feature/nasa-twins-study-confirms-preliminary-findings\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">updated press release\u003c/a> says.[contextly_sidebar id=”ZTDqyNC4dv1rL1BBeaeUBeLuTAJ8Jrmr”]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Scott and his twin brother, Mark Kelly, were the subjects of the study, which looked at how spaceflight affects the human body. Scott \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/futureofyou/437105/beyond-a-year-in-space-living-on-space-station-takes-toll-on-astronauts-health\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">lived\u003c/a> on the International Space Station from March 2015 to March 2016. Researchers documented physiological and psychological changes in Scott and compared the data to his twin brother Mark, who remained on Earth and served as a control subject.\u003c/p>\n\u003caside class=\"pullquote alignright\">In reality, if a whopping 7 percent of Scott’s DNA had really changed, he likely would no longer be human.\u003c/aside>\n\u003cp>The confusion seems to stem from NASA’s original, January press release, which was vaguely worded. Publications like Newsweek began reporting that some of Scott’s DNA had changed, based on this excerpt from the original press release:\u003c/p>\n\u003cblockquote>\u003cp>Researchers now know that 93% of Scott’s genes returned to normal after landing. However, the remaining 7% point to possible longer term changes in genes related to his immune system, DNA repair, bone formation networks, hypoxia, and hypercapnia.\u003c/p>\u003c/blockquote>\n\u003cp>In reality if 7 percent of Scott’s DNA had changed, he likely would no longer be human. As National Geographic’s Nadia Drake \u003ca href=\"https://news.nationalgeographic.com/2018/03/scott-kelly-astronaut-space-station-dna-health-science/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">noted\u003c/a>, \u003ci>“\u003c/i>humans and chimps have genetic sequences that differ by less than 2 percent, and individual humans—even completely unrelated strangers—differ by about 0.1 percent.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So what exactly did NASA researchers discover?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The changes in Scott’s genome were related to gene expression, not the actual structure of his DNA. The updated press release is careful to note that the observed changes were “very minimal.”[contextly_sidebar id=”IXpaDahM4jLd2Fi1dCeYHWZZVNvQkKX4”]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“What researchers did observe are changes in gene expression, which is how your body reacts to your environment,” the press release says. “This likely is within the range for humans under stress, such as mountain climbing or SCUBA diving.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Meaning that the observed changes are not all that surprising and can happen to anyone who engages in some sort of strenuous activity. Changes in genetic expression\u003cspan class=\"clearfix\"> reflect whether genes are activated or deactivated, which in turn determines how cells develop and function.\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan class=\"clearfix\">“Within each of us, most of our cells are otherwise genetically identical, but their genes are expressed at different levels,” writes Drake. “It’s those patterns of expression that produce hearts, brains, eyeballs, and other things, kind of like using the same set of ingredients to cook up vastly different dishes.”\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The confusing news reports overshadowed some important findings of the multifaceted study, which also looked at how the spaceflight environment impacts cognitive performance and the immune system.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Researchers noted a pronounced decrease in cognitive speed and accuracy after Scott landed, possibly related to re-adapting to Earth’s gravity. The preliminary study noted however that most of the biological changes observed in Scott quickly returned to normal after he returned to Earth.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>NASA says it plans on releasing more comprehensive results of its study later this year.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 578,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 16
},
"modified": 1704928103,
"excerpt": "After a slew of misleading news reports claiming that an astronaut's DNA changed, NASA clarifies. ",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "After a slew of misleading news reports claiming that an astronaut's DNA changed, NASA clarifies. ",
"title": "Those Reports That Astronaut Scott Kelly's DNA Changed — They're Wrong | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Those Reports That Astronaut Scott Kelly's DNA Changed — They're Wrong",
"datePublished": "2018-03-15T20:00:39-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-10T15:08:23-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "contrary-to-news-reports-astronaut-scott-kelly-did-not-turn-into-a-mutant",
"status": "publish",
"sticky": false,
"source": "Space",
"path": "/science/1921220/contrary-to-news-reports-astronaut-scott-kelly-did-not-turn-into-a-mutant",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Following several misleading news reports that claimed 7 percent of an identical twin’s DNA changed after he spent one year in space, rendering them no longer identical, NASA reissued the press release clarifying the preliminary findings of their “\u003ca href=\"https://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/station/research/experiments/2104.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Twins Study\u003c/a>.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Mark and Scott Kelly are still identical twins; Scott’s DNA did not fundamentally change,” the \u003ca href=\"https://www.nasa.gov/feature/nasa-twins-study-confirms-preliminary-findings\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">updated press release\u003c/a> says.\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Scott and his twin brother, Mark Kelly, were the subjects of the study, which looked at how spaceflight affects the human body. Scott \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/futureofyou/437105/beyond-a-year-in-space-living-on-space-station-takes-toll-on-astronauts-health\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">lived\u003c/a> on the International Space Station from March 2015 to March 2016. Researchers documented physiological and psychological changes in Scott and compared the data to his twin brother Mark, who remained on Earth and served as a control subject.\u003c/p>\n\u003caside class=\"pullquote alignright\">In reality, if a whopping 7 percent of Scott’s DNA had really changed, he likely would no longer be human.\u003c/aside>\n\u003cp>The confusion seems to stem from NASA’s original, January press release, which was vaguely worded. Publications like Newsweek began reporting that some of Scott’s DNA had changed, based on this excerpt from the original press release:\u003c/p>\n\u003cblockquote>\u003cp>Researchers now know that 93% of Scott’s genes returned to normal after landing. However, the remaining 7% point to possible longer term changes in genes related to his immune system, DNA repair, bone formation networks, hypoxia, and hypercapnia.\u003c/p>\u003c/blockquote>\n\u003cp>In reality if 7 percent of Scott’s DNA had changed, he likely would no longer be human. As National Geographic’s Nadia Drake \u003ca href=\"https://news.nationalgeographic.com/2018/03/scott-kelly-astronaut-space-station-dna-health-science/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">noted\u003c/a>, \u003ci>“\u003c/i>humans and chimps have genetic sequences that differ by less than 2 percent, and individual humans—even completely unrelated strangers—differ by about 0.1 percent.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So what exactly did NASA researchers discover?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The changes in Scott’s genome were related to gene expression, not the actual structure of his DNA. The updated press release is careful to note that the observed changes were “very minimal.”\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“What researchers did observe are changes in gene expression, which is how your body reacts to your environment,” the press release says. “This likely is within the range for humans under stress, such as mountain climbing or SCUBA diving.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Meaning that the observed changes are not all that surprising and can happen to anyone who engages in some sort of strenuous activity. Changes in genetic expression\u003cspan class=\"clearfix\"> reflect whether genes are activated or deactivated, which in turn determines how cells develop and function.\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan class=\"clearfix\">“Within each of us, most of our cells are otherwise genetically identical, but their genes are expressed at different levels,” writes Drake. “It’s those patterns of expression that produce hearts, brains, eyeballs, and other things, kind of like using the same set of ingredients to cook up vastly different dishes.”\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The confusing news reports overshadowed some important findings of the multifaceted study, which also looked at how the spaceflight environment impacts cognitive performance and the immune system.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Researchers noted a pronounced decrease in cognitive speed and accuracy after Scott landed, possibly related to re-adapting to Earth’s gravity. The preliminary study noted however that most of the biological changes observed in Scott quickly returned to normal after he returned to Earth.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>NASA says it plans on releasing more comprehensive results of its study later this year.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/science/1921220/contrary-to-news-reports-astronaut-scott-kelly-did-not-turn-into-a-mutant",
"authors": [
"11428"
],
"categories": [
"science_30",
"science_35",
"science_39",
"science_40"
],
"tags": [
"science_5176",
"science_327",
"science_5175",
"science_1342",
"science_3543",
"science_577"
],
"featImg": "science_1921238",
"label": "source_science_1921220"
},
"science_1920624": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "science_1920624",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1920624",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1520263828000
]
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "the-contentious-future-of-point-reyes-heres-what-you-need-to-know",
"title": "The Contentious Future of Point Reyes -- Here's What You Need to Know",
"publishDate": 1520263828,
"format": "image",
"headTitle": "The Contentious Future of Point Reyes — Here’s What You Need to Know | KQED",
"labelTerm": {},
"content": "\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">On a rocky peninsula with sweeping views of the Pacific Ocean, an hour north of San Francisco, cows, tule elk, and people have shared the land for several hundred years — but lately, with growing conflict. That’s why the National Park Service is rethinking how to manage the rangelands in the Point Reyes National Seashore. \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003caside class=\"pullquote alignright\">‘Everything is on the table.’\u003ccite>Melanie Gunn\u003cbr>\nPoint Reyes National Seashore\u003c/cite>\u003c/aside>\n\u003cp>President John F. Kennedy established the national park at Point Reyes in 1962, but the government only owned some of the land. The rest had been cattle and dairy land for 100 years. So federal authorities paid out $50 million in the 1960s and 70s to buy the land from the cattle and dairy ranchers. Ranchers were able to stay under long-term leases, and some two million people visit annually, from all over the world.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">After an effort to restore tule elk, the herds now roam over the park’s wildlands, as they did before human development nearly drove them to extinction. But they’ve also spread to the ranchlands, becoming a little too free-range for the liking of ranchers, who make their livelihood on public lands. And a bacteria common to dairy and cattle has sickened some of the elk. \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">These conditions brewed a sour fight among conservationists, the park service, and ranchers, culminating in litigation four years ago. \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1920695\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1920695\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1281\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1-800x534.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1-1020x681.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1-1180x787.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1-960x641.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1-240x160.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1-375x250.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1-520x347.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Cattle belonging to Marin Sun Farms, Inc. graze the land on Point Reyes National Seashore. \u003ccite>(Lauren Hanussak/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">As a result, the park service now is modifying its General Management Plan, a kind of road map to the next twenty years on rangelands at Point Reyes. In doing that, the park service must consider cutting ranching out of the national seashore altogether. Other ideas for the future include expanding farming and eliminating some of the elk.\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">“The question we need to resolve through this planning process is whether or not we can have elk and cattle coexisting and what it takes to make it work,” says Dave Press, a National Park Service wildlife ecologist. \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1336\" height=\"1075\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-1920716\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302.jpg 1336w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302-160x129.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302-800x644.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302-768x618.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302-1020x821.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302-1180x949.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302-960x772.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302-240x193.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302-375x302.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302-520x418.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1336px) 100vw, 1336px\">\u003c/a>Melanie Gunn, a spokeswoman for the seashore, says it’s a public process, “so everything is on the table.” Even the alternatives the public has seen so far aren’t set in stone. “We’re in listening mode,” she says. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">The park service has now released thousands of comments about the park’s future, but the actual planning is only just beginning. Here’s what you need to know to make sense of, or participate in, the process.\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Point Reyes is the only national park where tule elk are visible. \u003c/b>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">Tule elk disappeared from the peninsula in the mid-nineteenth century; they didn’t move back until 1978, after the seashore was established. Today the \u003ca href=\"https://www.nps.gov/pore/learn/nature/tule_elk_tomales_point_faq.htm\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Tomales Point Elk Preserve\u003c/a> holds around 450 of them, behind a tall fence on the north side of the seashore. \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1920679\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1920679\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1281\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut-800x534.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut-1020x681.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut-1180x787.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut-960x641.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut-240x160.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut-375x250.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut-520x347.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Tule elk are native to California, and were reintroduced to Point Reyes National Seashore beginning 40 years ago. \u003ccite>(Lauren Hanussak/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Elk have spread along the seashore. \u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">The fenced preserve was so successful, wildlife managers added a free-range herd in 1998. That second herd has split, with more than a hundred elk hanging out down by Drake’s Estero, and Limantour Road, and a smaller number further north, by Drake’s Beach. Our map shows the range for both free-range herds, based on NPS data. \u003c/span>\u003c/b>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Cattle fences don’t work on elk.\u003c/b>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\"> Tule elk are the smallest elk species (of three) in California, but they’re still 600 pounds, and nimble. They can jump a cattle fence easily, to graze the organic grasses ranchers maintain for their grass-fed beef and organic cheese. Ranch fences keep cattle away from some sensitive waterways and wilderness at the seashore. But the only fencing at Point Reyes that controls elk is at the elk preserve, where a three-mile long, ten-foot high, wood-and-wire fence confines the original herd.\u003c/span>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003cbr>\n\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1920684\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1920684\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1282\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut-800x534.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut-768x513.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut-1020x681.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut-1180x788.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut-960x641.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut-240x160.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut-375x250.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut-520x347.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A pasture of fresh grass belonging to Marin Sun Farms, Inc. is ready for grazing. \u003ccite>(Lauren Hanussak/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cdiv class=\"mceTemp\">\u003c/div>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>A wasting disease has struck elk and cattle out on the Point Reyes peninsula.\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\"> A bacteria found at Tomales Point decades ago, probably connected to a defunct ranching operation, has caused outbreaks of Johne’s Disease over the years – a contagious, chronic, common, and often fatal sickness in dairy operations. Its symptoms include weight loss and diarrhea for affected animals. \u003c/span>\u003c/b>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[contextly_sidebar id=”dtU0Yc0WDKONGgcKXeia50w0azAM1epd”]\u003cb>We haven’t fully sleuthed out the disease – in part because no testing is required for it. \u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">The park service tests and quarantines elk from the free-range herd, but the last tests for elk in the fenced reserve were a decade ago. The park service says there’s no money for genetic tests for the bacterium that causes the disease, and the test itself can be hard to interpret. Finally, cattle and dairy operations may or may not test for Johne’s in their herds. All that means it’s hard to say with certainty which animals have passed the disease to each other, and when. \u003c/span>\u003c/b>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Everyone agrees the federal government paid fair market value for land bought from ranchers, but grazing fees may be a different story.\u003c/b>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\"> Between 1963-1978, the government paid ranching families nearly $50 million for their lands, then allowed them to run dairy and cattle operations on public land under successive 20- and 30-year leases. \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1920681\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1920681\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1282\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut-800x534.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut-768x513.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut-1020x681.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut-1180x788.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut-960x641.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut-240x160.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut-375x250.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut-520x347.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">David Evans and his wife Claire Herminjard of Marin Sun Farms say they rotate their cattle and take care to protect habitats for endangered species. \u003ccite>(Lauren Hanussak/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">Ranchers pay $7 a cow a month to graze on public land. That’s higher than other federal lands, and park management says those fees \u003ca href=\"https://www.gao.gov/assets/100/94025.pdf\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">cover the cost\u003c/a> of administering the lands,\u003c/span>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\"> still, conservationists point out that grazing costs are as much as double on other Marin lands. \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003cb>Want to see row crops at Point Reyes? Ranchers do.\u003c/b> The word artichoke appears 92 times in the \u003ca href=\"https://www.nps.gov/pore/getinvolved/upload/planning_gmp_amendment_initial_public_comments.pdf\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">public comments file\u003c/a>, and for a reason: the Point Reyes Seashore Ranchers Association is pushing for something called “agricultural diversification.” It would permit pigs, sheep and row crops within park boundaries; interested West Marin residents have weighed in for and against the idea.\u003cbr>\n\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">And ranchers argue cattle grazing can be beneficial to grassland. David Evans and Claire Herminjard, who manage Marin Sun Farms and Mindful Meats on park service land, say they control the timing and severity of grazing to manage the land. “Our central love and goal is to make sure that we are doing the best possible job we can, in taking care of the land, the pastures, and all of the layers of ecosystem that are out here, in tandem with our livestock,” Herminjard says, “and our livestock do the best job at being able to keep grasslands viable.” \u003c/span>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003cbr>\n\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cdiv class=\"mceTemp\">\u003c/div>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1920703\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1920703\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1245\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut-160x104.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut-800x519.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut-768x498.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut-1020x661.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut-1180x765.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut-960x623.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut-240x156.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut-375x243.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut-520x337.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Tule Elk graze on grass in a field at Point Reyes National Seashore Elk Preserve. \u003ccite>(Justin Sullivan/Getty Images)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Environmental groups who sued the National Park Service in 2014 remain skeptical about federal rangeland management at Point Reyes.\u003c/b>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\"> “From impacts to endangered species, to water pollution, invasive species, soil erosion and conflicts with native wildlife – there’s enough negative impacts from grazing that the park service has to look at them,” says the Center for Biological Diversity’s Jeff Miller. Grazing is a privilege, not a right, say environmental advocates, and the government should take it away if ranching doesn’t meet high standards. “We feel that the general management plan should prioritize the protection of wildlife and habitat, and also it being a resource for visitors,” says Deb Moskowitz, with the Resource Renewal Institute of Mill Valley, “and \u003c/span>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">then\u003c/span>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\"> see how ranching could possibly fit into that.” \u003c/span>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003cbr>\n\u003c/span>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003cbr>\n\u003c/span>\u003cb>Climate change may mean that the national seashore looks different in 20 years. \u003c/b>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">“We know that we’re going to have sea level rise, average temperature changes, rainfall total changes, distribution of native and non native invasive species, are also going to change,” says Morgan Patton, a fourth-generation Marin resident who runs the Environmental Action Center of West Marin. “We would like to see some discussion about how climate change is going to impact the park’s resources.” NPS ecologist Dave Press says that discussion will happen. \u003c/span>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003cbr>\n\u003c/span>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003cbr>\n\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1920683\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1920683\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1282\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut-800x534.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut-768x513.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut-1020x681.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut-1180x788.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut-960x641.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut-240x160.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut-375x250.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut-520x347.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A Marin Sun Farms, Inc. calf chewing on foliage at Point Reyes National Seashore. \u003ccite>(Lauren Hanussak/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Thirty national parks (out of 417) permit some sort of grazing — and at least one permits agriculture.\u003c/b>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\"> When the law was passed to create the national park service a hundred years ago, then-Interior Secretary Franklin K. Lane announced that \u003ca href=\"https://www.nps.gov/cuva/learn/historyculture/farming-in-a-national-park.htm\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">grazing would be permitted\u003c/a> in park areas away from visitors, where it wouldn’t interfere with natural resources. During World War I and II, grazing expanded; in western states, operations remain particularly active. And in the Cuyahoga Valley National Park, sustainable \u003ca href=\"http://www.cvcountryside.org/farm-farming-home.htm\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">row-crop agriculture\u003c/a> is managed by a collective. \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">What happens in Point Reyes will help shape an evolving and communal understanding of what our national parkland is for.\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cdiv class=\"mceTemp\">\u003c/div>\n\n",
"blocks": [],
"excerpt": "Can farming and ranching coexist with wildlife in a national park? At Point Reyes National Seashore, the question is the center of a battle over the park's future.",
"status": "publish",
"parent": 0,
"modified": 1727135740,
"stats": {
"hasAudio": false,
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"paragraphCount": 22,
"wordCount": 1563
},
"headData": {
"title": "The Contentious Future of Point Reyes -- Here's What You Need to Know | KQED",
"description": "Can farming and ranching coexist with wildlife in a national park? At Point Reyes National Seashore, the question is the center of a battle over the park's future.",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogDescription": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"twDescription": "",
"twImgId": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "The Contentious Future of Point Reyes -- Here's What You Need to Know",
"datePublished": "2018-03-05T07:30:28-08:00",
"dateModified": "2024-09-23T16:55:40-07:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"source": "Environment",
"audioUrl": "https://www.kqed.org/.stream/anon/radio/science/2018/03/WEBPointReyestwowayPeterson180305.mp3",
"sticky": false,
"nprByline": "\u003cstrong>Molly Peterson\u003c/strong>",
"path": "/science/1920624/the-contentious-future-of-point-reyes-heres-what-you-need-to-know",
"audioDuration": 435000,
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">On a rocky peninsula with sweeping views of the Pacific Ocean, an hour north of San Francisco, cows, tule elk, and people have shared the land for several hundred years — but lately, with growing conflict. That’s why the National Park Service is rethinking how to manage the rangelands in the Point Reyes National Seashore. \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003caside class=\"pullquote alignright\">‘Everything is on the table.’\u003ccite>Melanie Gunn\u003cbr>\nPoint Reyes National Seashore\u003c/cite>\u003c/aside>\n\u003cp>President John F. Kennedy established the national park at Point Reyes in 1962, but the government only owned some of the land. The rest had been cattle and dairy land for 100 years. So federal authorities paid out $50 million in the 1960s and 70s to buy the land from the cattle and dairy ranchers. Ranchers were able to stay under long-term leases, and some two million people visit annually, from all over the world.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">After an effort to restore tule elk, the herds now roam over the park’s wildlands, as they did before human development nearly drove them to extinction. But they’ve also spread to the ranchlands, becoming a little too free-range for the liking of ranchers, who make their livelihood on public lands. And a bacteria common to dairy and cattle has sickened some of the elk. \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">These conditions brewed a sour fight among conservationists, the park service, and ranchers, culminating in litigation four years ago. \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1920695\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1920695\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1281\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1-800x534.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1-1020x681.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1-1180x787.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1-960x641.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1-240x160.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1-375x250.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29680_Point-Reyes_480-qut-1-520x347.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Cattle belonging to Marin Sun Farms, Inc. graze the land on Point Reyes National Seashore. \u003ccite>(Lauren Hanussak/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">As a result, the park service now is modifying its General Management Plan, a kind of road map to the next twenty years on rangelands at Point Reyes. In doing that, the park service must consider cutting ranching out of the national seashore altogether. Other ideas for the future include expanding farming and eliminating some of the elk.\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">“The question we need to resolve through this planning process is whether or not we can have elk and cattle coexisting and what it takes to make it work,” says Dave Press, a National Park Service wildlife ecologist. \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1336\" height=\"1075\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-1920716\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302.jpg 1336w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302-160x129.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302-800x644.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302-768x618.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302-1020x821.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302-1180x949.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302-960x772.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302-240x193.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302-375x302.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/PtReyes_Desktop_Final_180302-520x418.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1336px) 100vw, 1336px\">\u003c/a>Melanie Gunn, a spokeswoman for the seashore, says it’s a public process, “so everything is on the table.” Even the alternatives the public has seen so far aren’t set in stone. “We’re in listening mode,” she says. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">The park service has now released thousands of comments about the park’s future, but the actual planning is only just beginning. Here’s what you need to know to make sense of, or participate in, the process.\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Point Reyes is the only national park where tule elk are visible. \u003c/b>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">Tule elk disappeared from the peninsula in the mid-nineteenth century; they didn’t move back until 1978, after the seashore was established. Today the \u003ca href=\"https://www.nps.gov/pore/learn/nature/tule_elk_tomales_point_faq.htm\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Tomales Point Elk Preserve\u003c/a> holds around 450 of them, behind a tall fence on the north side of the seashore. \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1920679\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1920679\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1281\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut-800x534.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut-1020x681.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut-1180x787.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut-960x641.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut-240x160.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut-375x250.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29679_Point-Reyes_463-qut-520x347.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Tule elk are native to California, and were reintroduced to Point Reyes National Seashore beginning 40 years ago. \u003ccite>(Lauren Hanussak/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Elk have spread along the seashore. \u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">The fenced preserve was so successful, wildlife managers added a free-range herd in 1998. That second herd has split, with more than a hundred elk hanging out down by Drake’s Estero, and Limantour Road, and a smaller number further north, by Drake’s Beach. Our map shows the range for both free-range herds, based on NPS data. \u003c/span>\u003c/b>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Cattle fences don’t work on elk.\u003c/b>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\"> Tule elk are the smallest elk species (of three) in California, but they’re still 600 pounds, and nimble. They can jump a cattle fence easily, to graze the organic grasses ranchers maintain for their grass-fed beef and organic cheese. Ranch fences keep cattle away from some sensitive waterways and wilderness at the seashore. But the only fencing at Point Reyes that controls elk is at the elk preserve, where a three-mile long, ten-foot high, wood-and-wire fence confines the original herd.\u003c/span>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003cbr>\n\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1920684\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1920684\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1282\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut-800x534.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut-768x513.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut-1020x681.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut-1180x788.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut-960x641.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut-240x160.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut-375x250.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29693_Point-Reyes_727-qut-520x347.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A pasture of fresh grass belonging to Marin Sun Farms, Inc. is ready for grazing. \u003ccite>(Lauren Hanussak/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cdiv class=\"mceTemp\">\u003c/div>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>A wasting disease has struck elk and cattle out on the Point Reyes peninsula.\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\"> A bacteria found at Tomales Point decades ago, probably connected to a defunct ranching operation, has caused outbreaks of Johne’s Disease over the years – a contagious, chronic, common, and often fatal sickness in dairy operations. Its symptoms include weight loss and diarrhea for affected animals. \u003c/span>\u003c/b>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cb>We haven’t fully sleuthed out the disease – in part because no testing is required for it. \u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">The park service tests and quarantines elk from the free-range herd, but the last tests for elk in the fenced reserve were a decade ago. The park service says there’s no money for genetic tests for the bacterium that causes the disease, and the test itself can be hard to interpret. Finally, cattle and dairy operations may or may not test for Johne’s in their herds. All that means it’s hard to say with certainty which animals have passed the disease to each other, and when. \u003c/span>\u003c/b>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Everyone agrees the federal government paid fair market value for land bought from ranchers, but grazing fees may be a different story.\u003c/b>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\"> Between 1963-1978, the government paid ranching families nearly $50 million for their lands, then allowed them to run dairy and cattle operations on public land under successive 20- and 30-year leases. \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1920681\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1920681\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1282\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut-800x534.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut-768x513.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut-1020x681.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut-1180x788.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut-960x641.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut-240x160.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut-375x250.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29684_Point-Reyes_502-qut-520x347.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">David Evans and his wife Claire Herminjard of Marin Sun Farms say they rotate their cattle and take care to protect habitats for endangered species. \u003ccite>(Lauren Hanussak/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">Ranchers pay $7 a cow a month to graze on public land. That’s higher than other federal lands, and park management says those fees \u003ca href=\"https://www.gao.gov/assets/100/94025.pdf\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">cover the cost\u003c/a> of administering the lands,\u003c/span>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\"> still, conservationists point out that grazing costs are as much as double on other Marin lands. \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003cb>Want to see row crops at Point Reyes? Ranchers do.\u003c/b> The word artichoke appears 92 times in the \u003ca href=\"https://www.nps.gov/pore/getinvolved/upload/planning_gmp_amendment_initial_public_comments.pdf\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">public comments file\u003c/a>, and for a reason: the Point Reyes Seashore Ranchers Association is pushing for something called “agricultural diversification.” It would permit pigs, sheep and row crops within park boundaries; interested West Marin residents have weighed in for and against the idea.\u003cbr>\n\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">And ranchers argue cattle grazing can be beneficial to grassland. David Evans and Claire Herminjard, who manage Marin Sun Farms and Mindful Meats on park service land, say they control the timing and severity of grazing to manage the land. “Our central love and goal is to make sure that we are doing the best possible job we can, in taking care of the land, the pastures, and all of the layers of ecosystem that are out here, in tandem with our livestock,” Herminjard says, “and our livestock do the best job at being able to keep grasslands viable.” \u003c/span>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003cbr>\n\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cdiv class=\"mceTemp\">\u003c/div>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1920703\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1920703\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1245\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut-160x104.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut-800x519.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut-768x498.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut-1020x661.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut-1180x765.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut-960x623.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut-240x156.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut-375x243.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS15482_GettyImages-470387040-qut-520x337.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Tule Elk graze on grass in a field at Point Reyes National Seashore Elk Preserve. \u003ccite>(Justin Sullivan/Getty Images)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Environmental groups who sued the National Park Service in 2014 remain skeptical about federal rangeland management at Point Reyes.\u003c/b>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\"> “From impacts to endangered species, to water pollution, invasive species, soil erosion and conflicts with native wildlife – there’s enough negative impacts from grazing that the park service has to look at them,” says the Center for Biological Diversity’s Jeff Miller. Grazing is a privilege, not a right, say environmental advocates, and the government should take it away if ranching doesn’t meet high standards. “We feel that the general management plan should prioritize the protection of wildlife and habitat, and also it being a resource for visitors,” says Deb Moskowitz, with the Resource Renewal Institute of Mill Valley, “and \u003c/span>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">then\u003c/span>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\"> see how ranching could possibly fit into that.” \u003c/span>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003cbr>\n\u003c/span>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003cbr>\n\u003c/span>\u003cb>Climate change may mean that the national seashore looks different in 20 years. \u003c/b>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">“We know that we’re going to have sea level rise, average temperature changes, rainfall total changes, distribution of native and non native invasive species, are also going to change,” says Morgan Patton, a fourth-generation Marin resident who runs the Environmental Action Center of West Marin. “We would like to see some discussion about how climate change is going to impact the park’s resources.” NPS ecologist Dave Press says that discussion will happen. \u003c/span>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003cbr>\n\u003c/span>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003cbr>\n\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1920683\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1920683\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1282\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut-800x534.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut-768x513.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut-1020x681.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut-1180x788.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut-960x641.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut-240x160.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut-375x250.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/03/RS29689_Point-Reyes_622-qut-520x347.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A Marin Sun Farms, Inc. calf chewing on foliage at Point Reyes National Seashore. \u003ccite>(Lauren Hanussak/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Thirty national parks (out of 417) permit some sort of grazing — and at least one permits agriculture.\u003c/b>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\"> When the law was passed to create the national park service a hundred years ago, then-Interior Secretary Franklin K. Lane announced that \u003ca href=\"https://www.nps.gov/cuva/learn/historyculture/farming-in-a-national-park.htm\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">grazing would be permitted\u003c/a> in park areas away from visitors, where it wouldn’t interfere with natural resources. During World War I and II, grazing expanded; in western states, operations remain particularly active. And in the Cuyahoga Valley National Park, sustainable \u003ca href=\"http://www.cvcountryside.org/farm-farming-home.htm\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">row-crop agriculture\u003c/a> is managed by a collective. \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "floatright"
},
"numeric": [
"floatright"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">What happens in Point Reyes will help shape an evolving and communal understanding of what our national parkland is for.\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cdiv class=\"mceTemp\">\u003c/div>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/science/1920624/the-contentious-future-of-point-reyes-heres-what-you-need-to-know",
"authors": [
"byline_science_1920624"
],
"programs": [
"science_5376"
],
"categories": [
"science_2874",
"science_46",
"science_30",
"science_35",
"science_40",
"science_5141",
"science_43",
"science_3423"
],
"tags": [
"science_3370"
],
"featImg": "science_1920676",
"label": "source_science_1920624"
},
"science_1919946": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "science_1919946",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1919946",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1519740010000
]
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "so-sometimes-fireflies-eat-other-fireflies",
"title": "So ... Sometimes Fireflies Eat Other Fireflies",
"publishDate": 1519740010,
"format": "video",
"headTitle": "So … Sometimes Fireflies Eat Other Fireflies | KQED",
"labelTerm": {
"term": 1935,
"site": "science"
},
"content": "\u003cp>[dl_subscribe]Most of the blinking signals that fireflies send out are intended to attract mates. But researchers are finding that, in some cases, these romantic overtures are not all wine and roses.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Females of one firefly group, the genus \u003cem>Photuris\u003c/em>, have learned to copy other fireflies’ flashes to attract the males of those species. When one arrives, she pounces, first sucking his blood, and then devouring his insides.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>These “femme fatale” fireflies, which live throughout the eastern United States, were nicknamed by the scientist who first described the behavior in the 1970s, Jim Lloyd of the University of Florida in Gainesville.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1919987\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-1919987\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-1920x1080.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Fireflies in the genus Photuris mimic other firefly flashes to lure and eat them. \u003ccite>(Kevin Collins)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>These predatory fireflies develop widely varying light shows to target whatever species are in the area. “They alter the signal that they’re mimicking, depending on what they’re seeing around them,” said \u003ca href=\"https://silentsparks.com/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Sara Lewis,\u003c/a> a firefly researcher at Tufts University.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For many who grow up in the eastern U.S., firefly displays are synonymous with summer. “We had a cabin in the Great Smoky Mountains,” said Lynn Faust, author of the 2017 book \u003ca href=\"http://www.ugapress.org/index.php/books/fireflies\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">\u003cem>Fireflies, Glow-worms, and Lightning Bugs,\u003c/em>\u003c/a> a field guide to the insects. “We had them all around us.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The predatory habits of \u003cem>Photuris \u003c/em>are just one example of how much individual firefly signals can differ from one another.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Everyone initially thinks all fireflies are one species,” Faust said, but her book describes dozens, down to the unique flash patterns of each.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The male common eastern firefly, for example, is known for his fish hook-shaped aerial maneuver, which he repeats at six-second intervals. That characteristic move has earned the species the nickname “Big Dipper.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1919988\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 720px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_big-dipper_720.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1919988\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_big-dipper_720.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"720\" height=\"405\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The “Big Dipper” firefly, a.k.a the common eastern firefly, woos females with a hook-shaped display. \u003ccite>(Kevin Collins)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>The male Big Dipper hopes this bit of skywriting will get him noticed by females hiding in the grass. If the female likes what she sees, her reply comes as a single pulse from her smaller, heart-shaped lantern. That’s his invitation to land and mate.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Most firefly interactions follow the same pattern, with roving males advertising themselves to concealed females. Within a species, the back-and-forth signals are so reliable that it’s easy to attract the male fireflies with even a simple decoy.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Firefly light is biochemical. The complex folds inside their abdominal lanterns contain two types of chemicals, luciferases and luciferins, which interact in the presence of oxygen to produce the light.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But fireflies like the Big Dippers do much more with chemistry than just make light. They can mix together an array of other compounds, including invisible pheromones for mating, and others called lucibufagins (“loosa-BOOF-ajins”) that ward off predators like spiders and birds.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Males pass some of these chemicals, including the highly potent lucibufagins, to females during the mating process. That so-called nuptial gift plays a role in the reproductive success of both partners.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1919989\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-1919989\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-1920x1080.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A female Big Dipper replies to the male’s signal. \u003ccite>(Kevin Collins)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>At some point, according to Lewis, the \u003cem>Photuris\u003c/em> “femme fatale” fireflies lost the ability to make their own lucibufagins. So instead of chemistry, these bigger, stronger fireflies became adept at imitation, and evolved to turn into insect vampires to take these valuable compounds from other fireflies to boost their own defenses.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And it works. In experiments, predators avoided \u003cem>Photuris\u003c/em> fireflies that had recently preyed on other fireflies.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>What’s more, while most adult fireflies don’t even eat in their three-week lifespans — like \u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/2017/07/11/why-is-the-very-hungry-caterpillar-so-dang-hungry/\">butterflies,\u003c/a> they do most of their snacking in the larval stage — the \u003cem>Photuris \u003c/em>also makes a meal of her victim.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“She’s pretty thorough,” Lewis said, “They’re really almost like a food processor, grinding them up and leaving the hard bits behind.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Fireflies in California? Yes\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Many people are surprised to learn that despite fireflies’ reputation as a mainstay of the Midwest and the eastern U.S., California has them, too.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Debbi Brusco, who conducts night hikes for visitors as an activities docent at \u003ca href=\"https://www.openspace.org/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Midpeninsula Regional Open Space District,\u003c/a> won’t soon forget the first time she encountered a California pink glowworm firefly in the wild, at Monte Bello Open Space Preserve in the hills west of Cupertino.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“One of the other docents happened to notice this little tiny green light growing in the grass,” she recalled. “We’d never seen anything like that before.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It’s now the centerpiece of a night hike she conducts every year at the preserve.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Once I found out what it was,” she said, “it kind of hooked me.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1919990\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-1919990 size-medium\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-1920x1080.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A pinned specimen of the California pink glowworm, one of only three at UC Berkeley’s Essig Museum of Entomology. \u003ccite>(Elliott Kennerson)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Though their displays can’t rival what you find in the East, California’s fireflies are around — if you know when and where to look.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The adult females, which resemble armored, rose-colored worms, are the only ones that light up. The males fly, but don’t glow at all. Nonetheless, their mating habits follow the firefly pattern, with males on the wing searching for females hidden in the dark.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>With the help of an engineer friend, Brusco built a lure to attract males for park visitors.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“You can never tell if you’re going to see any or not,” she said, “One year we got 17.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>California’s fireflies are found most often near mountain springs, alongside the native snails they like to eat.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Northern California is also home to a second type of firefly, one active only in the daytime. Though closely related to the nocturnal, lantern-bearing Big Dippers, members of this genus, \u003cem>Ellychnia\u003c/em>, don’t light up at all, probably relying on pheromones alone to find mates.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Joining Brusco’s annual firefly hike, which is scheduled in May and takes place in June, requires a reservation on \u003ca href=\"https://openspace.org/what-to-do\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">https://openspace.org/what-to-do\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"blocks": [],
"excerpt": "Most firefly flashes are pure romance, but one kind copies others' signals to lure them to their demise.",
"status": "publish",
"parent": 0,
"modified": 1738970187,
"stats": {
"hasAudio": false,
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"paragraphCount": 32,
"wordCount": 1053
},
"headData": {
"title": "So ... Sometimes Fireflies Eat Other Fireflies | KQED",
"description": "Most firefly flashes are pure romance, but one kind copies others' signals to lure them to their demise.",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogDescription": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"twDescription": "",
"twImgId": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "So ... Sometimes Fireflies Eat Other Fireflies",
"datePublished": "2018-02-27T06:00:10-08:00",
"dateModified": "2025-02-07T15:16:27-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"videoEmbed": "https://youtu.be/oWdCMFvgFbo",
"pbsMediaId": "3015710056",
"sticky": false,
"excludeFromSiteSearch": "Include",
"articleAge": "0",
"path": "/science/1919946/so-sometimes-fireflies-eat-other-fireflies",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "dl_subscribe",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": ""
},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>Most of the blinking signals that fireflies send out are intended to attract mates. But researchers are finding that, in some cases, these romantic overtures are not all wine and roses.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Females of one firefly group, the genus \u003cem>Photuris\u003c/em>, have learned to copy other fireflies’ flashes to attract the males of those species. When one arrives, she pounces, first sucking his blood, and then devouring his insides.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>These “femme fatale” fireflies, which live throughout the eastern United States, were nicknamed by the scientist who first described the behavior in the 1970s, Jim Lloyd of the University of Florida in Gainesville.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1919987\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-1919987\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-1920x1080.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_fireflies_firefly-eats-firefly-CC-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Fireflies in the genus Photuris mimic other firefly flashes to lure and eat them. \u003ccite>(Kevin Collins)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>These predatory fireflies develop widely varying light shows to target whatever species are in the area. “They alter the signal that they’re mimicking, depending on what they’re seeing around them,” said \u003ca href=\"https://silentsparks.com/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Sara Lewis,\u003c/a> a firefly researcher at Tufts University.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For many who grow up in the eastern U.S., firefly displays are synonymous with summer. “We had a cabin in the Great Smoky Mountains,” said Lynn Faust, author of the 2017 book \u003ca href=\"http://www.ugapress.org/index.php/books/fireflies\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">\u003cem>Fireflies, Glow-worms, and Lightning Bugs,\u003c/em>\u003c/a> a field guide to the insects. “We had them all around us.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The predatory habits of \u003cem>Photuris \u003c/em>are just one example of how much individual firefly signals can differ from one another.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Everyone initially thinks all fireflies are one species,” Faust said, but her book describes dozens, down to the unique flash patterns of each.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The male common eastern firefly, for example, is known for his fish hook-shaped aerial maneuver, which he repeats at six-second intervals. That characteristic move has earned the species the nickname “Big Dipper.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1919988\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 720px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_big-dipper_720.gif\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1919988\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_big-dipper_720.gif\" alt=\"\" width=\"720\" height=\"405\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The “Big Dipper” firefly, a.k.a the common eastern firefly, woos females with a hook-shaped display. \u003ccite>(Kevin Collins)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>The male Big Dipper hopes this bit of skywriting will get him noticed by females hiding in the grass. If the female likes what she sees, her reply comes as a single pulse from her smaller, heart-shaped lantern. That’s his invitation to land and mate.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Most firefly interactions follow the same pattern, with roving males advertising themselves to concealed females. Within a species, the back-and-forth signals are so reliable that it’s easy to attract the male fireflies with even a simple decoy.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Firefly light is biochemical. The complex folds inside their abdominal lanterns contain two types of chemicals, luciferases and luciferins, which interact in the presence of oxygen to produce the light.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But fireflies like the Big Dippers do much more with chemistry than just make light. They can mix together an array of other compounds, including invisible pheromones for mating, and others called lucibufagins (“loosa-BOOF-ajins”) that ward off predators like spiders and birds.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Males pass some of these chemicals, including the highly potent lucibufagins, to females during the mating process. That so-called nuptial gift plays a role in the reproductive success of both partners.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1919989\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-1919989\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-1920x1080.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504_Fireflies_female-signals-CC-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A female Big Dipper replies to the male’s signal. \u003ccite>(Kevin Collins)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>At some point, according to Lewis, the \u003cem>Photuris\u003c/em> “femme fatale” fireflies lost the ability to make their own lucibufagins. So instead of chemistry, these bigger, stronger fireflies became adept at imitation, and evolved to turn into insect vampires to take these valuable compounds from other fireflies to boost their own defenses.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And it works. In experiments, predators avoided \u003cem>Photuris\u003c/em> fireflies that had recently preyed on other fireflies.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>What’s more, while most adult fireflies don’t even eat in their three-week lifespans — like \u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/2017/07/11/why-is-the-very-hungry-caterpillar-so-dang-hungry/\">butterflies,\u003c/a> they do most of their snacking in the larval stage — the \u003cem>Photuris \u003c/em>also makes a meal of her victim.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“She’s pretty thorough,” Lewis said, “They’re really almost like a food processor, grinding them up and leaving the hard bits behind.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Fireflies in California? Yes\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Many people are surprised to learn that despite fireflies’ reputation as a mainstay of the Midwest and the eastern U.S., California has them, too.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Debbi Brusco, who conducts night hikes for visitors as an activities docent at \u003ca href=\"https://www.openspace.org/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Midpeninsula Regional Open Space District,\u003c/a> won’t soon forget the first time she encountered a California pink glowworm firefly in the wild, at Monte Bello Open Space Preserve in the hills west of Cupertino.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“One of the other docents happened to notice this little tiny green light growing in the grass,” she recalled. “We’d never seen anything like that before.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It’s now the centerpiece of a night hike she conducts every year at the preserve.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Once I found out what it was,” she said, “it kind of hooked me.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_1919990\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003ca href=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article.jpg\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-1919990 size-medium\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/science/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-1920x1080.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-240x135.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-375x211.jpg 375w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2018/02/DL504-Pink-glowworm.article-520x293.jpg 520w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/a>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A pinned specimen of the California pink glowworm, one of only three at UC Berkeley’s Essig Museum of Entomology. \u003ccite>(Elliott Kennerson)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Though their displays can’t rival what you find in the East, California’s fireflies are around — if you know when and where to look.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The adult females, which resemble armored, rose-colored worms, are the only ones that light up. The males fly, but don’t glow at all. Nonetheless, their mating habits follow the firefly pattern, with males on the wing searching for females hidden in the dark.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>With the help of an engineer friend, Brusco built a lure to attract males for park visitors.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“You can never tell if you’re going to see any or not,” she said, “One year we got 17.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>California’s fireflies are found most often near mountain springs, alongside the native snails they like to eat.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Northern California is also home to a second type of firefly, one active only in the daytime. Though closely related to the nocturnal, lantern-bearing Big Dippers, members of this genus, \u003cem>Ellychnia\u003c/em>, don’t light up at all, probably relying on pheromones alone to find mates.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Joining Brusco’s annual firefly hike, which is scheduled in May and takes place in June, requires a reservation on \u003ca href=\"https://openspace.org/what-to-do\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">https://openspace.org/what-to-do\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/science/1919946/so-sometimes-fireflies-eat-other-fireflies",
"authors": [
"11090"
],
"series": [
"science_1935"
],
"categories": [
"science_2874",
"science_30",
"science_29",
"science_86"
],
"tags": [
"science_798",
"science_309"
],
"featImg": "science_1919985",
"label": "science_1935"
}
},
"podcastsReducer": {
"isFetching": false,
"fetchFailed": false,
"hasFetched": false,
"podcasts": {}
},
"radioProgramsReducer": {
"isFetching": false,
"fetchFailed": false,
"hasFetched": false,
"radioPrograms": {}
},
"radioSearchSegmentsReducer": {},
"programsReducer": {
"all-things-considered": {
"id": "all-things-considered",
"title": "All Things Considered",
"info": "Every weekday, \u003cem>All Things Considered\u003c/em> hosts Robert Siegel, Audie Cornish, Ari Shapiro, and Kelly McEvers present the program's trademark mix of news, interviews, commentaries, reviews, and offbeat features. Michel Martin hosts on the weekends.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 1pm-2pm, 4:30pm-6:30pm\u003cbr />SAT-SUN 5pm-6pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/All-Things-Considered-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/all-things-considered/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/all-things-considered"
},
"american-suburb-podcast": {
"id": "american-suburb-podcast",
"title": "American Suburb: The Podcast",
"tagline": "The flip side of gentrification, told through one town",
"info": "Gentrification is changing cities across America, forcing people from neighborhoods they have long called home. Call them the displaced. Now those priced out of the Bay Area are looking for a better life in an unlikely place. American Suburb follows this migration to one California town along the Delta, 45 miles from San Francisco. But is this once sleepy suburb ready for them?",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/American-Suburb-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/news/series/american-suburb-podcast",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 19
},
"link": "/news/series/american-suburb-podcast/",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/RBrW",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?mt=2&id=1287748328",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/American-Suburb-p1086805/",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/series/american-suburb-podcast/feed/podcast",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5tZWdhcGhvbmUuZm0vS1FJTkMzMDExODgxNjA5"
}
},
"baycurious": {
"id": "baycurious",
"title": "Bay Curious",
"tagline": "Exploring the Bay Area, one question at a time",
"info": "KQED’s new podcast, Bay Curious, gets to the bottom of the mysteries — both profound and peculiar — that give the Bay Area its unique identity. And we’ll do it with your help! You ask the questions. You decide what Bay Curious investigates. And you join us on the journey to find the answers.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Bay-Curious-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Bay Curious",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/news/series/baycurious",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 3
},
"link": "/podcasts/baycurious",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/bay-curious/id1172473406",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/500557090/bay-curious",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/category/bay-curious-podcast/feed/podcast",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/9a90d476-aa04-455d-9a4c-0871ed6216d4/bay-curious",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/bay-curious",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/6O76IdmhixfijmhTZLIJ8k"
}
},
"bbc-world-service": {
"id": "bbc-world-service",
"title": "BBC World Service",
"info": "The day's top stories from BBC News compiled twice daily in the week, once at weekends.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 9pm-10pm, TUE-FRI 1am-2am",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/BBC-World-Service-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/live:bbc_world_service",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "BBC World Service"
},
"link": "/radio/program/bbc-world-service",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/global-news-podcast/id135067274?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/BBC-World-Service-p455581/",
"rss": "https://podcasts.files.bbci.co.uk/p02nq0gn.rss"
}
},
"californiareport": {
"id": "californiareport",
"title": "The California Report",
"tagline": "California, day by day",
"info": "KQED’s statewide radio news program providing daily coverage of issues, trends and public policy decisions.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-California-Report-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED The California Report",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/californiareport",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 8
},
"link": "/californiareport",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/kqeds-the-california-report/id79681292",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/26099305-72af-4542-9dde-ac1807fe36d5/kqed-s-the-california-report",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/432285393/the-california-report",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqedfm-kqeds-the-california-report-podcast-8838",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/tag/tcram/feed/podcast"
}
},
"californiareportmagazine": {
"id": "californiareportmagazine",
"title": "The California Report Magazine",
"tagline": "Your state, your stories",
"info": "Every week, The California Report Magazine takes you on a road trip for the ears: to visit the places and meet the people who make California unique. The in-depth storytelling podcast from the California Report.",
"airtime": "FRI 4:30pm-5pm, 6:30pm-7pm, 11pm-11:30pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-California-Report-Magazine-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED The California Report Magazine",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/californiareportmagazine",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 10
},
"link": "/californiareportmagazine",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-california-report-magazine/id1314750545",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5tZWdhcGhvbmUuZm0vS1FJTkM3NjkwNjk1OTAz",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/564733126/the-california-report-magazine",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/the-california-report-magazine",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/tag/tcrmag/feed/podcast"
}
},
"city-arts": {
"id": "city-arts",
"title": "City Arts & Lectures",
"info": "A one-hour radio program to hear celebrated writers, artists and thinkers address contemporary ideas and values, often discussing the creative process. Please note: tapes or transcripts are not available",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/05/cityartsandlecture-300x300.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.cityarts.net/",
"airtime": "SUN 1pm-2pm, TUE 10pm, WED 1am",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "City Arts & Lectures"
},
"link": "https://www.cityarts.net",
"subscribe": {
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/City-Arts-and-Lectures-p692/",
"rss": "https://www.cityarts.net/feed/"
}
},
"closealltabs": {
"id": "closealltabs",
"title": "Close All Tabs",
"tagline": "Your irreverent guide to the trends redefining our world",
"info": "Close All Tabs breaks down how digital culture shapes our world through thoughtful insights and irreverent humor.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/02/CAT_2_Tile-scaled.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Close All Tabs",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/closealltabs",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 1
},
"link": "/podcasts/closealltabs",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/close-all-tabs/id214663465",
"rss": "https://feeds.megaphone.fm/KQINC6993880386",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/92d9d4ac-67a3-4eed-b10a-fb45d45b1ef2/close-all-tabs",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/6LAJFHnGK1pYXYzv6SIol6?si=deb0cae19813417c"
}
},
"code-switch-life-kit": {
"id": "code-switch-life-kit",
"title": "Code Switch / Life Kit",
"info": "\u003cem>Code Switch\u003c/em>, which listeners will hear in the first part of the hour, has fearless and much-needed conversations about race. Hosted by journalists of color, the show tackles the subject of race head-on, exploring how it impacts every part of society — from politics and pop culture to history, sports and more.\u003cbr />\u003cbr />\u003cem>Life Kit\u003c/em>, which will be in the second part of the hour, guides you through spaces and feelings no one prepares you for — from finances to mental health, from workplace microaggressions to imposter syndrome, from relationships to parenting. The show features experts with real world experience and shares their knowledge. Because everyone needs a little help being human.\u003cbr />\u003cbr />\u003ca href=\"https://www.npr.org/podcasts/510312/codeswitch\">\u003cem>Code Switch\u003c/em> offical site and podcast\u003c/a>\u003cbr />\u003ca href=\"https://www.npr.org/lifekit\">\u003cem>Life Kit\u003c/em> offical site and podcast\u003c/a>\u003cbr />",
"airtime": "SUN 9pm-10pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Code-Switch-Life-Kit-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/code-switch-life-kit",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/podcast/1112190608?mt=2&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly93d3cubnByLm9yZy9yc3MvcG9kY2FzdC5waHA_aWQ9NTEwMzEy",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/3bExJ9JQpkwNhoHvaIIuyV",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510312/podcast.xml"
}
},
"commonwealth-club": {
"id": "commonwealth-club",
"title": "Commonwealth Club of California Podcast",
"info": "The Commonwealth Club of California is the nation's oldest and largest public affairs forum. As a non-partisan forum, The Club brings to the public airwaves diverse viewpoints on important topics. The Club's weekly radio broadcast - the oldest in the U.S., dating back to 1924 - is carried across the nation on public radio stations and is now podcasting. Our website archive features audio of our recent programs, as well as selected speeches from our long and distinguished history. This podcast feed is usually updated twice a week and is always un-edited.",
"airtime": "THU 10pm, FRI 1am",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Commonwealth-Club-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.commonwealthclub.org/podcasts",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "Commonwealth Club of California"
},
"link": "/radio/program/commonwealth-club",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/commonwealth-club-of-california-podcast/id976334034?mt=2",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cDovL3d3dy5jb21tb253ZWFsdGhjbHViLm9yZy9hdWRpby9wb2RjYXN0L3dlZWtseS54bWw",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Commonwealth-Club-of-California-p1060/"
}
},
"forum": {
"id": "forum",
"title": "Forum",
"tagline": "The conversation starts here",
"info": "KQED’s live call-in program discussing local, state, national and international issues, as well as in-depth interviews.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 9am-11am, 10pm-11pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Forum-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Forum with Mina Kim and Alexis Madrigal",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/forum",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 9
},
"link": "/forum",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/kqeds-forum/id73329719",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5tZWdhcGhvbmUuZm0vS1FJTkM5NTU3MzgxNjMz",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/432307980/forum",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqedfm-kqeds-forum-podcast",
"rss": "https://feeds.megaphone.fm/KQINC9557381633"
}
},
"freakonomics-radio": {
"id": "freakonomics-radio",
"title": "Freakonomics Radio",
"info": "Freakonomics Radio is a one-hour award-winning podcast and public-radio project hosted by Stephen Dubner, with co-author Steve Levitt as a regular guest. It is produced in partnership with WNYC.",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2018/05/freakonomicsRadio.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "http://freakonomics.com/",
"airtime": "SUN 1am-2am, SAT 3pm-4pm",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "WNYC"
},
"link": "/radio/program/freakonomics-radio",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/4s8b",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/freakonomics-radio/id354668519",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/podcasts/WNYC-Podcasts/Freakonomics-Radio-p272293/",
"rss": "https://feeds.feedburner.com/freakonomicsradio"
}
},
"fresh-air": {
"id": "fresh-air",
"title": "Fresh Air",
"info": "Hosted by Terry Gross, \u003cem>Fresh Air from WHYY\u003c/em> is the Peabody Award-winning weekday magazine of contemporary arts and issues. One of public radio's most popular programs, Fresh Air features intimate conversations with today's biggest luminaries.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 7pm-8pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Fresh-Air-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/fresh-air/",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/fresh-air",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/4s8b",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=214089682&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Fresh-Air-p17/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/381444908/podcast.xml"
}
},
"here-and-now": {
"id": "here-and-now",
"title": "Here & Now",
"info": "A live production of NPR and WBUR Boston, in collaboration with stations across the country, Here & Now reflects the fluid world of news as it's happening in the middle of the day, with timely, in-depth news, interviews and conversation. Hosted by Robin Young, Jeremy Hobson and Tonya Mosley.",
"airtime": "MON-THU 11am-12pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Here-And-Now-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "http://www.wbur.org/hereandnow",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/here-and-now",
"subsdcribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?mt=2&id=426698661",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Here--Now-p211/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510051/podcast.xml"
}
},
"hidden-brain": {
"id": "hidden-brain",
"title": "Hidden Brain",
"info": "Shankar Vedantam uses science and storytelling to reveal the unconscious patterns that drive human behavior, shape our choices and direct our relationships.",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/05/hiddenbrain.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/series/423302056/hidden-brain",
"airtime": "SUN 7pm-8pm",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "NPR"
},
"link": "/radio/program/hidden-brain",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/hidden-brain/id1028908750?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/podcasts/Science-Podcasts/Hidden-Brain-p787503/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510308/podcast.xml"
}
},
"how-i-built-this": {
"id": "how-i-built-this",
"title": "How I Built This with Guy Raz",
"info": "Guy Raz dives into the stories behind some of the world's best known companies. How I Built This weaves a narrative journey about innovators, entrepreneurs and idealists—and the movements they built.",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2018/05/howIBuiltThis.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/510313/how-i-built-this",
"airtime": "SUN 7:30pm-8pm",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/how-i-built-this",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/3zxy",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/how-i-built-this-with-guy-raz/id1150510297?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/podcasts/Arts--Culture-Podcasts/How-I-Built-This-p910896/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510313/podcast.xml"
}
},
"hyphenacion": {
"id": "hyphenacion",
"title": "Hyphenación",
"tagline": "Where conversation and cultura meet",
"info": "What kind of no sabo word is Hyphenación? For us, it’s about living within a hyphenation. Like being a third-gen Mexican-American from the Texas border now living that Bay Area Chicano life. Like Xorje! Each week we bring together a couple of hyphenated Latinos to talk all about personal life choices: family, careers, relationships, belonging … everything is on the table. ",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/03/Hyphenacion_FinalAssets_PodcastTile.png",
"imageAlt": "KQED Hyphenación",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/hyphenacion",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 15
},
"link": "/podcasts/hyphenacion",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/hyphenaci%C3%B3n/id1191591838",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/2p3Fifq96nw9BPcmFdIq0o?si=39209f7b25774f38",
"youtube": "https://www.youtube.com/c/kqedarts",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/6c3dd23c-93fb-4aab-97ba-1725fa6315f1/hyphenaci%C3%B3n",
"rss": "https://feeds.megaphone.fm/KQINC2275451163"
}
},
"jerrybrown": {
"id": "jerrybrown",
"title": "The Political Mind of Jerry Brown",
"tagline": "Lessons from a lifetime in politics",
"info": "The Political Mind of Jerry Brown brings listeners the wisdom of the former Governor, Mayor, and presidential candidate. Scott Shafer interviewed Brown for more than 40 hours, covering the former governor's life and half-century in the political game – and Brown has some lessons he'd like to share. ",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-Political-Mind-of-Jerry-Brown-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED The Political Mind of Jerry Brown",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/jerrybrown",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 18
},
"link": "/podcasts/jerrybrown",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/790253322/the-political-mind-of-jerry-brown",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/id1492194549",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/series/jerrybrown/feed/podcast/",
"tuneIn": "http://tun.in/pjGcK",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/the-political-mind-of-jerry-brown",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/54C1dmuyFyKMFttY6X2j6r?si=K8SgRCoISNK6ZbjpXrX5-w",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/44420f75-3b0e-4301-ab3b-16da6b09e543/the-political-mind-of-jerry-brown"
}
},
"latino-usa": {
"id": "latino-usa",
"title": "Latino USA",
"airtime": "MON 1am-2am, SUN 6pm-7pm",
"info": "Latino USA, the radio journal of news and culture, is the only national, English-language radio program produced from a Latino perspective.",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/latinoUsa.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "http://latinousa.org/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/latino-usa",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/xtTd",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=79681317&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Latino-USA-p621/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510016/podcast.xml"
}
},
"marketplace": {
"id": "marketplace",
"title": "Marketplace",
"info": "Our flagship program, helmed by Kai Ryssdal, examines what the day in money delivered, through stories, conversations, newsworthy numbers and more. Updated Monday through Friday at about 3:30 p.m. PT.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 4pm-4:30pm, MON-WED 6:30pm-7pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Marketplace-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.marketplace.org/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "American Public Media"
},
"link": "/radio/program/marketplace",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=201853034&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/APM-Marketplace-p88/",
"rss": "https://feeds.publicradio.org/public_feeds/marketplace-pm/rss/rss"
}
},
"masters-of-scale": {
"id": "masters-of-scale",
"title": "Masters of Scale",
"info": "Masters of Scale is an original podcast in which LinkedIn co-founder and Greylock Partner Reid Hoffman sets out to describe and prove theories that explain how great entrepreneurs take their companies from zero to a gazillion in ingenious fashion.",
"airtime": "Every other Wednesday June 12 through October 16 at 8pm (repeats Thursdays at 2am)",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Masters-of-Scale-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://mastersofscale.com/",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "WaitWhat"
},
"link": "/radio/program/masters-of-scale",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "http://mastersofscale.app.link/",
"rss": "https://rss.art19.com/masters-of-scale"
}
},
"mindshift": {
"id": "mindshift",
"title": "MindShift",
"tagline": "A podcast about the future of learning and how we raise our kids",
"info": "The MindShift podcast explores the innovations in education that are shaping how kids learn. Hosts Ki Sung and Katrina Schwartz introduce listeners to educators, researchers, parents and students who are developing effective ways to improve how kids learn. We cover topics like how fed-up administrators are developing surprising tactics to deal with classroom disruptions; how listening to podcasts are helping kids develop reading skills; the consequences of overparenting; and why interdisciplinary learning can engage students on all ends of the traditional achievement spectrum. This podcast is part of the MindShift education site, a division of KQED News. KQED is an NPR/PBS member station based in San Francisco. You can also visit the MindShift website for episodes and supplemental blog posts or tweet us \u003ca href=\"https://twitter.com/MindShiftKQED\">@MindShiftKQED\u003c/a> or visit us at \u003ca href=\"/mindshift\">MindShift.KQED.org\u003c/a>",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Mindshift-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED MindShift: How We Will Learn",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/mindshift/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 12
},
"link": "/podcasts/mindshift",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/mindshift-podcast/id1078765985",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5tZWdhcGhvbmUuZm0vS1FJTkM1NzY0NjAwNDI5",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/464615685/mind-shift-podcast",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/stories-teachers-share",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/0MxSpNYZKNprFLCl7eEtyx"
}
},
"morning-edition": {
"id": "morning-edition",
"title": "Morning Edition",
"info": "\u003cem>Morning Edition\u003c/em> takes listeners around the country and the world with multi-faceted stories and commentaries every weekday. Hosts Steve Inskeep, David Greene and Rachel Martin bring you the latest breaking news and features to prepare you for the day.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 3am-9am",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Morning-Edition-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/morning-edition/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/morning-edition"
},
"onourwatch": {
"id": "onourwatch",
"title": "On Our Watch",
"tagline": "Deeply-reported investigative journalism",
"info": "For decades, the process for how police police themselves has been inconsistent – if not opaque. In some states, like California, these proceedings were completely hidden. After a new police transparency law unsealed scores of internal affairs files, our reporters set out to examine these cases and the shadow world of police discipline. On Our Watch brings listeners into the rooms where officers are questioned and witnesses are interrogated to find out who this system is really protecting. Is it the officers, or the public they've sworn to serve?",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/On-Our-Watch-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "On Our Watch from NPR and KQED",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/onourwatch",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 11
},
"link": "/podcasts/onourwatch",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/podcast/id1567098962",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5ucHIub3JnLzUxMDM2MC9wb2RjYXN0LnhtbD9zYz1nb29nbGVwb2RjYXN0cw",
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/onourwatch",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/0OLWoyizopu6tY1XiuX70x",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/On-Our-Watch-p1436229/",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/show/on-our-watch",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510360/podcast.xml"
}
},
"on-the-media": {
"id": "on-the-media",
"title": "On The Media",
"info": "Our weekly podcast explores how the media 'sausage' is made, casts an incisive eye on fluctuations in the marketplace of ideas, and examines threats to the freedom of information and expression in America and abroad. For one hour a week, the show tries to lift the veil from the process of \"making media,\" especially news media, because it's through that lens that we see the world and the world sees us",
"airtime": "SUN 2pm-3pm, MON 12am-1am",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/onTheMedia.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.wnycstudios.org/shows/otm",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "wnyc"
},
"link": "/radio/program/on-the-media",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/on-the-media/id73330715?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/On-the-Media-p69/",
"rss": "http://feeds.wnyc.org/onthemedia"
}
},
"pbs-newshour": {
"id": "pbs-newshour",
"title": "PBS NewsHour",
"info": "Analysis, background reports and updates from the PBS NewsHour putting today's news in context.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 3pm-4pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/PBS-News-Hour-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.pbs.org/newshour/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "pbs"
},
"link": "/radio/program/pbs-newshour",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/pbs-newshour-full-show/id394432287?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/PBS-NewsHour---Full-Show-p425698/",
"rss": "https://www.pbs.org/newshour/feeds/rss/podcasts/show"
}
},
"perspectives": {
"id": "perspectives",
"title": "Perspectives",
"tagline": "KQED's series of daily listener commentaries since 1991",
"info": "KQED's series of daily listener commentaries since 1991.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/Perspectives_Tile_Final.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Perspectives",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/perspectives/",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 14
},
"link": "/perspectives",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/id73801135",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/432309616/perspectives",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/perspectives/category/perspectives/feed/",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly93dzIua3FlZC5vcmcvcGVyc3BlY3RpdmVzL2NhdGVnb3J5L3BlcnNwZWN0aXZlcy9mZWVkLw"
}
},
"planet-money": {
"id": "planet-money",
"title": "Planet Money",
"info": "The economy explained. Imagine you could call up a friend and say, Meet me at the bar and tell me what's going on with the economy. Now imagine that's actually a fun evening.",
"airtime": "SUN 3pm-4pm",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/planetmoney.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/sections/money/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/planet-money",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/M4f5",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/planet-money/id290783428?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/podcasts/Business--Economics-Podcasts/Planet-Money-p164680/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510289/podcast.xml"
}
},
"politicalbreakdown": {
"id": "politicalbreakdown",
"title": "Political Breakdown",
"tagline": "Politics from a personal perspective",
"info": "Political Breakdown is a new series that explores the political intersection of California and the nation. Each week hosts Scott Shafer and Marisa Lagos are joined with a new special guest to unpack politics -- with personality — and offer an insider’s glimpse at how politics happens.",
"airtime": "THU 6:30pm-7pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Political-Breakdown-2024-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Political Breakdown",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/politicalbreakdown",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 5
},
"link": "/podcasts/politicalbreakdown",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/political-breakdown/id1327641087",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/e0c2d153-ad36-4c8d-901d-f1da6a724824/political-breakdown",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/572155894/political-breakdown",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/political-breakdown",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/07RVyIjIdk2WDuVehvBMoN",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/tag/political-breakdown/feed/podcast"
}
},
"possible": {
"id": "possible",
"title": "Possible",
"info": "Possible is hosted by entrepreneur Reid Hoffman and writer Aria Finger. Together in Possible, Hoffman and Finger lead enlightening discussions about building a brighter collective future. The show features interviews with visionary guests like Trevor Noah, Sam Altman and Janette Sadik-Khan. Possible paints an optimistic portrait of the world we can create through science, policy, business, art and our shared humanity. It asks: What if everything goes right for once? How can we get there? Each episode also includes a short fiction story generated by advanced AI GPT-4, serving as a thought-provoking springboard to speculate how humanity could leverage technology for good.",
"airtime": "SUN 2pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Possible-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.possible.fm/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "Possible"
},
"link": "/radio/program/possible",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/possible/id1677184070",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/730YpdUSNlMyPQwNnyjp4k"
}
},
"pri-the-world": {
"id": "pri-the-world",
"title": "PRI's The World: Latest Edition",
"info": "Each weekday, host Marco Werman and his team of producers bring you the world's most interesting stories in an hour of radio that reminds us just how small our planet really is.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 2pm-3pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-World-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.pri.org/programs/the-world",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "PRI"
},
"link": "/radio/program/pri-the-world",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/pris-the-world-latest-edition/id278196007?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/podcasts/News--Politics-Podcasts/PRIs-The-World-p24/",
"rss": "http://feeds.feedburner.com/pri/theworld"
}
},
"radiolab": {
"id": "radiolab",
"title": "Radiolab",
"info": "A two-time Peabody Award-winner, Radiolab is an investigation told through sounds and stories, and centered around one big idea. In the Radiolab world, information sounds like music and science and culture collide. Hosted by Jad Abumrad and Robert Krulwich, the show is designed for listeners who demand skepticism, but appreciate wonder. WNYC Studios is the producer of other leading podcasts including Freakonomics Radio, Death, Sex & Money, On the Media and many more.",
"airtime": "SUN 12am-1am, SAT 2pm-3pm",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/radiolab1400.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.wnycstudios.org/shows/radiolab/",
"meta": {
"site": "science",
"source": "WNYC"
},
"link": "/radio/program/radiolab",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/radiolab/id152249110?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/RadioLab-p68032/",
"rss": "https://feeds.wnyc.org/radiolab"
}
},
"reveal": {
"id": "reveal",
"title": "Reveal",
"info": "Created by The Center for Investigative Reporting and PRX, Reveal is public radios first one-hour weekly radio show and podcast dedicated to investigative reporting. Credible, fact based and without a partisan agenda, Reveal combines the power and artistry of driveway moment storytelling with data-rich reporting on critically important issues. The result is stories that inform and inspire, arming our listeners with information to right injustices, hold the powerful accountable and improve lives.Reveal is hosted by Al Letson and showcases the award-winning work of CIR and newsrooms large and small across the nation. In a radio and podcast market crowded with choices, Reveal focuses on important and often surprising stories that illuminate the world for our listeners.",
"airtime": "SAT 4pm-5pm",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/reveal300px.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.revealnews.org/episodes/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/reveal",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/reveal/id886009669",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Reveal-p679597/",
"rss": "http://feeds.revealradio.org/revealpodcast"
}
},
"rightnowish": {
"id": "rightnowish",
"title": "Rightnowish",
"tagline": "Art is where you find it",
"info": "Rightnowish digs into life in the Bay Area right now… ish. Journalist Pendarvis Harshaw takes us to galleries painted on the sides of liquor stores in West Oakland. We'll dance in warehouses in the Bayview, make smoothies with kids in South Berkeley, and listen to classical music in a 1984 Cutlass Supreme in Richmond. Every week, Pen talks to movers and shakers about how the Bay Area shapes what they create, and how they shape the place we call home.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Rightnowish-Podcast-Tile-500x500-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Rightnowish with Pendarvis Harshaw",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/rightnowish",
"meta": {
"site": "arts",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 16
},
"link": "/podcasts/rightnowish",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/721590300/rightnowish",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/arts/programs/rightnowish/feed/podcast",
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/rightnowish/id1482187648",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/rightnowish",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5tZWdhcGhvbmUuZm0vS1FJTkMxMjU5MTY3NDc4",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/7kEJuafTzTVan7B78ttz1I"
}
},
"science-friday": {
"id": "science-friday",
"title": "Science Friday",
"info": "Science Friday is a weekly science talk show, broadcast live over public radio stations nationwide. Each week, the show focuses on science topics that are in the news and tries to bring an educated, balanced discussion to bear on the scientific issues at hand. Panels of expert guests join host Ira Flatow, a veteran science journalist, to discuss science and to take questions from listeners during the call-in portion of the program.",
"airtime": "FRI 11am-1pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Science-Friday-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.wnycstudios.org/shows/science-friday",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/science-friday",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=73329284&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Science-Friday-p394/",
"rss": "http://feeds.wnyc.org/science-friday"
}
},
"snap-judgment": {
"id": "snap-judgment",
"title": "Snap Judgment",
"tagline": "Real stories with killer beats",
"info": "The Snap Judgment radio show and podcast mixes real stories with killer beats to produce cinematic, dramatic radio. Snap's musical brand of storytelling dares listeners to see the world through the eyes of another. This is storytelling... with a BEAT!! Snap first aired on public radio stations nationwide in July 2010. Today, Snap Judgment airs on over 450 public radio stations and is brought to the airwaves by KQED & PRX.",
"airtime": "SAT 1pm-2pm, 9pm-10pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Snap-Judgment-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Snap Judgment",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://snapjudgment.org",
"meta": {
"site": "arts",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 4
},
"link": "https://snapjudgment.org",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/snap-judgment/id283657561",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/449018144/snap-judgment",
"stitcher": "https://www.pandora.com/podcast/snap-judgment/PC:241?source=stitcher-sunset",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/3Cct7ZWmxHNAtLgBTqjC5v",
"rss": "https://snap.feed.snapjudgment.org/"
}
},
"soldout": {
"id": "soldout",
"title": "SOLD OUT: Rethinking Housing in America",
"tagline": "A new future for housing",
"info": "Sold Out: Rethinking Housing in America",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Sold-Out-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Sold Out: Rethinking Housing in America",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/soldout",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 13
},
"link": "/podcasts/soldout",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/911586047/s-o-l-d-o-u-t-a-new-future-for-housing",
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/introducing-sold-out-rethinking-housing-in-america/id1531354937",
"rss": "https://feeds.megaphone.fm/soldout",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/38dTBSk2ISFoPiyYNoKn1X",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/sold-out-rethinking-housing-in-america",
"tunein": "https://tunein.com/radio/SOLD-OUT-Rethinking-Housing-in-America-p1365871/"
}
},
"spooked": {
"id": "spooked",
"title": "Spooked",
"tagline": "True-life supernatural stories",
"info": "",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/Spooked-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Spooked",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://spookedpodcast.org/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 7
},
"link": "https://spookedpodcast.org/",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/spooked/id1279361017",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/549547848/snap-judgment-presents-spooked",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/76571Rfl3m7PLJQZKQIGCT",
"rss": "https://feeds.simplecast.com/TBotaapn"
}
},
"tech-nation": {
"id": "tech-nation",
"title": "Tech Nation Radio Podcast",
"info": "Tech Nation is a weekly public radio program, hosted by Dr. Moira Gunn. Founded in 1993, it has grown from a simple interview show to a multi-faceted production, featuring conversations with noted technology and science leaders, and a weekly science and technology-related commentary.",
"airtime": "FRI 10pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Tech-Nation-Radio-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "http://technation.podomatic.com/",
"meta": {
"site": "science",
"source": "Tech Nation Media"
},
"link": "/radio/program/tech-nation",
"subscribe": {
"rss": "https://technation.podomatic.com/rss2.xml"
}
},
"ted-radio-hour": {
"id": "ted-radio-hour",
"title": "TED Radio Hour",
"info": "The TED Radio Hour is a journey through fascinating ideas, astonishing inventions, fresh approaches to old problems, and new ways to think and create.",
"airtime": "SUN 3pm-4pm, SAT 10pm-11pm",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/tedRadioHour.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/ted-radio-hour/?showDate=2018-06-22",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/ted-radio-hour",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/8vsS",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=523121474&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/TED-Radio-Hour-p418021/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510298/podcast.xml"
}
},
"thebay": {
"id": "thebay",
"title": "The Bay",
"tagline": "Local news to keep you rooted",
"info": "Host Devin Katayama walks you through the biggest story of the day with reporters and newsmakers.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-Bay-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED The Bay",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/thebay",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 2
},
"link": "/podcasts/thebay",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-bay/id1350043452",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/d800ea4c-7a2c-42f2-b861-edaf78a5db0b/the-bay",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/586725995/the-bay",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/the-bay",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/4BIKBKIujizLHlIlBNaAqQ",
"rss": "https://feeds.megaphone.fm/KQINC8259786327"
}
},
"thelatest": {
"id": "thelatest",
"title": "The Latest",
"tagline": "Trusted local news in real time",
"info": "",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/The-Latest-2025-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED The Latest",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/thelatest",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 6
},
"link": "/thelatest",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-latest-from-kqed/id1197721799",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/1257949365/the-latest-from-k-q-e-d",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/5KIIXMgM9GTi5AepwOYvIZ?si=bd3053fec7244dba",
"rss": "https://feeds.megaphone.fm/KQINC9137121918"
}
},
"theleap": {
"id": "theleap",
"title": "The Leap",
"tagline": "What if you closed your eyes, and jumped?",
"info": "Stories about people making dramatic, risky changes, told by award-winning public radio reporter Judy Campbell.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-Leap-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED The Leap",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/theleap",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 17
},
"link": "/podcasts/theleap",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-leap/id1046668171",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/447248267/the-leap",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/the-leap",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/3sSlVHHzU0ytLwuGs1SD1U",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/programs/the-leap/feed/podcast"
}
},
"the-moth-radio-hour": {
"id": "the-moth-radio-hour",
"title": "The Moth Radio Hour",
"info": "Since its launch in 1997, The Moth has presented thousands of true stories, told live and without notes, to standing-room-only crowds worldwide. Moth storytellers stand alone, under a spotlight, with only a microphone and a roomful of strangers. The storyteller and the audience embark on a high-wire act of shared experience which is both terrifying and exhilarating. Since 2008, The Moth podcast has featured many of our favorite stories told live on Moth stages around the country. For information on all of our programs and live events, visit themoth.org.",
"airtime": "SAT 8pm-9pm and SUN 11am-12pm",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/theMoth.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://themoth.org/",
"meta": {
"site": "arts",
"source": "prx"
},
"link": "/radio/program/the-moth-radio-hour",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/the-moth-podcast/id275699983?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/The-Moth-p273888/",
"rss": "http://feeds.themoth.org/themothpodcast"
}
},
"the-new-yorker-radio-hour": {
"id": "the-new-yorker-radio-hour",
"title": "The New Yorker Radio Hour",
"info": "The New Yorker Radio Hour is a weekly program presented by the magazine's editor, David Remnick, and produced by WNYC Studios and The New Yorker. Each episode features a diverse mix of interviews, profiles, storytelling, and an occasional burst of humor inspired by the magazine, and shaped by its writers, artists, and editors. This isn't a radio version of a magazine, but something all its own, reflecting the rich possibilities of audio storytelling and conversation. Theme music for the show was composed and performed by Merrill Garbus of tUnE-YArDs.",
"airtime": "SAT 10am-11am",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-New-Yorker-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.wnycstudios.org/shows/tnyradiohour",
"meta": {
"site": "arts",
"source": "WNYC"
},
"link": "/radio/program/the-new-yorker-radio-hour",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/id1050430296",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/podcasts/WNYC-Podcasts/New-Yorker-Radio-Hour-p803804/",
"rss": "https://feeds.feedburner.com/newyorkerradiohour"
}
},
"the-sam-sanders-show": {
"id": "the-sam-sanders-show",
"title": "The Sam Sanders Show",
"info": "One of public radio's most dynamic voices, Sam Sanders helped launch The NPR Politics Podcast and hosted NPR's hit show It's Been A Minute. Now, the award-winning host returns with something brand new, The Sam Sanders Show. Every week, Sam Sanders and friends dig into the culture that shapes our lives: what's driving the biggest trends, how artists really think, and even the memes you can't stop scrolling past. Sam is beloved for his way of unpacking the world and bringing you up close to fresh currents and engaging conversations. The Sam Sanders Show is smart, funny and always a good time.",
"airtime": "FRI 12-1pm AND SAT 11am-12pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/11/The-Sam-Sanders-Show-Podcast-Tile-400x400-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.kcrw.com/shows/the-sam-sanders-show/latest",
"meta": {
"site": "arts",
"source": "KCRW"
},
"link": "https://www.kcrw.com/shows/the-sam-sanders-show/latest",
"subscribe": {
"rss": "https://feed.cdnstream1.com/zjb/feed/download/ac/28/59/ac28594c-e1d0-4231-8728-61865cdc80e8.xml"
}
},
"the-splendid-table": {
"id": "the-splendid-table",
"title": "The Splendid Table",
"info": "\u003cem>The Splendid Table\u003c/em> hosts our nation's conversations about cooking, sustainability and food culture.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-Splendid-Table-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.splendidtable.org/",
"airtime": "SUN 10-11 pm",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/the-splendid-table"
},
"this-american-life": {
"id": "this-american-life",
"title": "This American Life",
"info": "This American Life is a weekly public radio show, heard by 2.2 million people on more than 500 stations. Another 2.5 million people download the weekly podcast. It is hosted by Ira Glass, produced in collaboration with Chicago Public Media, delivered to stations by PRX The Public Radio Exchange, and has won all of the major broadcasting awards.",
"airtime": "SAT 12pm-1pm, 7pm-8pm",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/thisAmericanLife.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.thisamericanlife.org/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "wbez"
},
"link": "/radio/program/this-american-life",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=201671138&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"rss": "https://www.thisamericanlife.org/podcast/rss.xml"
}
},
"tinydeskradio": {
"id": "tinydeskradio",
"title": "Tiny Desk Radio",
"info": "We're bringing the best of Tiny Desk to the airwaves, only on public radio.",
"airtime": "SUN 8pm and SAT 9pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/04/300x300-For-Member-Station-Logo-Tiny-Desk-Radio-@2x.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/series/g-s1-52030/tiny-desk-radio",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/tinydeskradio",
"subscribe": {
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/g-s1-52030/rss.xml"
}
},
"wait-wait-dont-tell-me": {
"id": "wait-wait-dont-tell-me",
"title": "Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me!",
"info": "Peter Sagal and Bill Kurtis host the weekly NPR News quiz show alongside some of the best and brightest news and entertainment personalities.",
"airtime": "SUN 10am-11am, SAT 11am-12pm, SAT 6pm-7pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Wait-Wait-Podcast-Tile-300x300-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/wait-wait-dont-tell-me/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/wait-wait-dont-tell-me",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/Xogv",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=121493804&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Wait-Wait-Dont-Tell-Me-p46/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/344098539/podcast.xml"
}
},
"weekend-edition-saturday": {
"id": "weekend-edition-saturday",
"title": "Weekend Edition Saturday",
"info": "Weekend Edition Saturday wraps up the week's news and offers a mix of analysis and features on a wide range of topics, including arts, sports, entertainment, and human interest stories. The two-hour program is hosted by NPR's Peabody Award-winning Scott Simon.",
"airtime": "SAT 5am-10am",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Weekend-Edition-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/weekend-edition-saturday/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/weekend-edition-saturday"
},
"weekend-edition-sunday": {
"id": "weekend-edition-sunday",
"title": "Weekend Edition Sunday",
"info": "Weekend Edition Sunday features interviews with newsmakers, artists, scientists, politicians, musicians, writers, theologians and historians. The program has covered news events from Nelson Mandela's 1990 release from a South African prison to the capture of Saddam Hussein.",
"airtime": "SUN 5am-10am",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Weekend-Edition-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/weekend-edition-sunday/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/weekend-edition-sunday"
}
},
"racesReducer": {},
"racesGenElectionReducer": {},
"racesGenElection2026Reducer": {},
"radioSchedulesReducer": {},
"listsReducer": {
"posts/science?category=biology": {
"isFetching": false,
"latestQuery": {
"from": 204,
"size": 12
},
"vitalsOnly": false,
"totalRequested": 12,
"isLoading": false,
"isLoadingMore": true,
"total": {
"value": 648,
"relation": "eq"
},
"items": [
"science_1924639",
"science_1923898",
"science_1922987",
"science_1922899",
"science_1922719",
"science_1922038",
"science_1922417",
"science_1921659",
"science_1920972",
"science_1921220",
"science_1920624",
"science_1919946"
],
"complete": true
}
},
"recallGuideReducer": {
"intros": {},
"policy": {},
"candidates": {}
},
"savedArticleReducer": {
"articles": [],
"status": {}
},
"newslettersReducer": {
"isFetching": false,
"fetchFailed": false,
"hasFetched": false,
"newsletters": {},
"isSubscribing": false,
"isUnsubscribing": false,
"subscribedNewsletters": {}
},
"termsReducer": {
"about": {
"name": "About",
"type": "terms",
"id": "about",
"slug": "about",
"link": "/about",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"arts": {
"name": "Arts & Culture",
"grouping": [
"arts",
"pop",
"trulyca"
],
"description": "KQED Arts provides daily in-depth coverage of the Bay Area's music, art, film, performing arts, literature and arts news, as well as cultural commentary and criticism.",
"type": "terms",
"id": "arts",
"slug": "arts",
"link": "/arts",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"artschool": {
"name": "Art School",
"parent": "arts",
"type": "terms",
"id": "artschool",
"slug": "artschool",
"link": "/artschool",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"bayareabites": {
"name": "KQED food",
"grouping": [
"food",
"bayareabites",
"checkplease"
],
"parent": "food",
"type": "terms",
"id": "bayareabites",
"slug": "bayareabites",
"link": "/food",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"bayareahiphop": {
"name": "Bay Area Hiphop",
"type": "terms",
"id": "bayareahiphop",
"slug": "bayareahiphop",
"link": "/bayareahiphop",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"campaign21": {
"name": "Campaign 21",
"type": "terms",
"id": "campaign21",
"slug": "campaign21",
"link": "/campaign21",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"careers": {
"name": "Careers",
"type": "terms",
"id": "careers",
"slug": "careers",
"link": "/careers",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"checkplease": {
"name": "KQED food",
"grouping": [
"food",
"bayareabites",
"checkplease"
],
"parent": "food",
"type": "terms",
"id": "checkplease",
"slug": "checkplease",
"link": "/food",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"education": {
"name": "Education",
"grouping": [
"education"
],
"type": "terms",
"id": "education",
"slug": "education",
"link": "/education",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"elections": {
"name": "Elections",
"type": "terms",
"id": "elections",
"slug": "elections",
"link": "/elections",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"events": {
"name": "Events",
"type": "terms",
"id": "events",
"slug": "events",
"link": "/events",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"event": {
"name": "Event",
"alias": "events",
"type": "terms",
"id": "event",
"slug": "event",
"link": "/event",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"filmschoolshorts": {
"name": "Film School Shorts",
"type": "terms",
"id": "filmschoolshorts",
"slug": "filmschoolshorts",
"link": "/filmschoolshorts",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"food": {
"name": "KQED food",
"grouping": [
"food",
"bayareabites",
"checkplease"
],
"type": "terms",
"id": "food",
"slug": "food",
"link": "/food",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"forum": {
"name": "Forum",
"relatedContentQuery": "posts/forum?",
"parent": "news",
"type": "terms",
"id": "forum",
"slug": "forum",
"link": "/forum",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"futureofyou": {
"name": "Future of You",
"grouping": [
"science",
"futureofyou"
],
"parent": "science",
"type": "terms",
"id": "futureofyou",
"slug": "futureofyou",
"link": "/futureofyou",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"jpepinheart": {
"name": "KQED food",
"relatedContentQuery": "posts/food,bayareabites,checkplease",
"parent": "food",
"type": "terms",
"id": "jpepinheart",
"slug": "jpepinheart",
"link": "/food",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"liveblog": {
"name": "Live Blog",
"type": "terms",
"id": "liveblog",
"slug": "liveblog",
"link": "/liveblog",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"livetv": {
"name": "Live TV",
"parent": "tv",
"type": "terms",
"id": "livetv",
"slug": "livetv",
"link": "/livetv",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"lowdown": {
"name": "The Lowdown",
"relatedContentQuery": "posts/lowdown?",
"parent": "news",
"type": "terms",
"id": "lowdown",
"slug": "lowdown",
"link": "/lowdown",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"mindshift": {
"name": "Mindshift",
"parent": "news",
"description": "MindShift explores the future of education by highlighting the innovative – and sometimes counterintuitive – ways educators and parents are helping all children succeed.",
"type": "terms",
"id": "mindshift",
"slug": "mindshift",
"link": "/mindshift",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"news": {
"name": "News",
"grouping": [
"news",
"forum"
],
"type": "terms",
"id": "news",
"slug": "news",
"link": "/news",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"newsletters": {
"name": "newsletters",
"type": "terms",
"id": "newsletters",
"slug": "newsletters",
"link": "/newsletters",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"perspectives": {
"name": "Perspectives",
"parent": "radio",
"type": "terms",
"id": "perspectives",
"slug": "perspectives",
"link": "/perspectives",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"podcasts": {
"name": "Podcasts",
"type": "terms",
"id": "podcasts",
"slug": "podcasts",
"link": "/podcasts",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"pop": {
"name": "Pop",
"parent": "arts",
"type": "terms",
"id": "pop",
"slug": "pop",
"link": "/pop",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"pressroom": {
"name": "Pressroom",
"type": "terms",
"id": "pressroom",
"slug": "pressroom",
"link": "/pressroom",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"quest": {
"name": "Quest",
"parent": "science",
"type": "terms",
"id": "quest",
"slug": "quest",
"link": "/quest",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"radio": {
"name": "Radio",
"grouping": [
"forum",
"perspectives"
],
"description": "Listen to KQED Public Radio – home of Forum and The California Report – on 88.5 FM in San Francisco, 89.3 FM in Sacramento, 88.3 FM in Santa Rosa and 88.1 FM in Martinez.",
"type": "terms",
"id": "radio",
"slug": "radio",
"link": "/radio",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"root": {
"name": "KQED",
"image": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png",
"imageWidth": 1200,
"imageHeight": 630,
"headData": {
"title": "KQED | News, Radio, Podcasts, TV | Public Media for Northern California",
"description": "KQED provides public radio, television, and independent reporting on issues that matter to the Bay Area. We’re the NPR and PBS member station for Northern California."
},
"type": "terms",
"id": "root",
"slug": "root",
"link": "/root",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"science": {
"name": "Science",
"grouping": [
"science",
"futureofyou"
],
"description": "KQED Science brings you award-winning science and environment coverage from the Bay Area and beyond.",
"type": "terms",
"id": "science",
"slug": "science",
"link": "/science",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"stateofhealth": {
"name": "State of Health",
"parent": "science",
"type": "terms",
"id": "stateofhealth",
"slug": "stateofhealth",
"link": "/stateofhealth",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"support": {
"name": "Support",
"type": "terms",
"id": "support",
"slug": "support",
"link": "/support",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"thedolist": {
"name": "The Do List",
"parent": "arts",
"type": "terms",
"id": "thedolist",
"slug": "thedolist",
"link": "/thedolist",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"trulyca": {
"name": "Truly CA",
"grouping": [
"arts",
"pop",
"trulyca"
],
"parent": "arts",
"type": "terms",
"id": "trulyca",
"slug": "trulyca",
"link": "/trulyca",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"tv": {
"name": "TV",
"type": "terms",
"id": "tv",
"slug": "tv",
"link": "/tv",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"voterguide": {
"name": "Voter Guide",
"parent": "elections",
"alias": "elections",
"type": "terms",
"id": "voterguide",
"slug": "voterguide",
"link": "/voterguide",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"guiaelectoral": {
"name": "Guia Electoral",
"parent": "elections",
"alias": "elections",
"type": "terms",
"id": "guiaelectoral",
"slug": "guiaelectoral",
"link": "/guiaelectoral",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"science_category_biology": {
"isLoading": true
},
"science_30": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_30",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "30",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Biology",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Biology Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 32,
"slug": "biology",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/category/biology"
},
"source_science_1924639": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "source_science_1924639",
"meta": {
"override": true
},
"name": "Oceans",
"isLoading": false
},
"source_science_1922899": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "source_science_1922899",
"meta": {
"override": true
},
"name": "Climate",
"link": "Water",
"isLoading": false
},
"source_science_1922719": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "source_science_1922719",
"meta": {
"override": true
},
"name": "Climate",
"isLoading": false
},
"source_science_1922417": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "source_science_1922417",
"meta": {
"override": true
},
"name": "Animals",
"isLoading": false
},
"source_science_1921220": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "source_science_1921220",
"meta": {
"override": true
},
"name": "Space",
"isLoading": false
},
"source_science_1920624": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "source_science_1920624",
"meta": {
"override": true
},
"name": "Environment",
"isLoading": false
},
"science_2874": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_2874",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "2874",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Animals",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Animals Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 2874,
"slug": "animals",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/category/animals"
},
"science_40": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_40",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "40",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "News",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "News Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 42,
"slug": "news",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/category/news"
},
"science_2873": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_2873",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "2873",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Oceans",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Oceans Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 2873,
"slug": "oceans",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/category/oceans"
},
"science_255": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_255",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "255",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "whales",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "tag",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "whales Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 259,
"slug": "whales",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/tag/whales"
},
"science_1935": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_1935",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1935",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Deep Look",
"description": "[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mpAc7SyETD4?rel=0&w=640&h=360]\r\n\r\n\u003cbr/>\r\n\r\n\u003ch2>About Deep Look\u003c/h2>\r\n\r\n[dl_subscribe]\r\n\r\n\u003cp>See the unseen at the very edge of our visible world. Get a new perspective on our place in the universe and meet extraordinary new friends. Explore big scientific mysteries by going incredibly small with Deep Look, a new ultra-HD (4K) short video series created by KQED San Francisco and presented by PBS Digital Studios.\u003c/p>\r\n\r\n\u003cp>Don't miss an episode! \u003ca href=\"http://goo.gl/8NwXqt\">SUBSCRIBE to Deep Look on YouTube.\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\r\n",
"taxonomy": "series",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": "[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mpAc7SyETD4?rel=0&w=640&h=360] About Deep Look [dl_subscribe] See the unseen at the very edge of our visible world. Get a new perspective on our place in the universe and meet extraordinary new friends. Explore big scientific mysteries by going incredibly small with Deep Look, a new ultra-HD (4K) short video series created by KQED San Francisco and presented by PBS Digital Studios. Don't miss an episode! SUBSCRIBE to Deep Look on YouTube.",
"title": "Deep Look Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 1946,
"slug": "deep-look",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/series/deep-look"
},
"science_86": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_86",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "86",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Video",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Video Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 89,
"slug": "video",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/category/video"
},
"science_1970": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_1970",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1970",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "deep look",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "tag",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "deep look Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 1981,
"slug": "deep-look-2",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/tag/deep-look-2"
},
"science_3370": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_3370",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "3370",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "featured",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "tag",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "featured Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 3370,
"slug": "featured",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/tag/featured"
},
"science_1097": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_1097",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1097",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Plants",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "tag",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Plants Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 1105,
"slug": "plants",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/tag/plants"
},
"science_5376": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_5376",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "5376",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"name": "Science Podcast",
"slug": "science-podcast",
"taxonomy": "program",
"description": null,
"featImg": null,
"headData": {
"title": "Science Podcast | KQED Science",
"description": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogDescription": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"twDescription": null,
"twImgId": null
},
"ttid": 5376,
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/program/science-podcast"
},
"science_29": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_29",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "29",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Chemistry",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Chemistry Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 31,
"slug": "chemistry",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/category/chemistry"
},
"science_31": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_31",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "31",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Climate",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Climate Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 33,
"slug": "climate",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/category/climate"
},
"science_36": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_36",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "36",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Food",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Food Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 38,
"slug": "food",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/category/food"
},
"science_5141": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_5141",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "5141",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Podcast",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Podcast Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 5141,
"slug": "podcast",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/category/podcast"
},
"science_3423": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_3423",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "3423",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Science Podcast",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"socialTitle": "Bay Area Science: Stories & Insights with KQED's Science Podcasts",
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": "Our captivating podcasts take you on a journey through the Bay Area's vibrant scientific landscape. Discover groundbreaking research & hear expert insights.",
"title": "Bay Area Science: Stories & Insights with KQED's Science Podcasts",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 3423,
"slug": "science-podcast",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/category/science-podcast"
},
"science_98": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_98",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "98",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Water",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Water Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 102,
"slug": "water",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/category/water"
},
"science_194": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_194",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "194",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "climate change",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "tag",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "climate change Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 198,
"slug": "climate-change",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/tag/climate-change"
},
"science_35": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_35",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "35",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Environment",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Environment Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 37,
"slug": "environment",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/category/environment"
},
"science_1120": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_1120",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1120",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "animals",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "tag",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "animals Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 1128,
"slug": "animals",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/tag/animals"
},
"science_192": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_192",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "192",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "environment",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "tag",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "environment Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 196,
"slug": "environment-2",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/tag/environment-2"
},
"science_556": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_556",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "556",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "global warming",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "tag",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "global warming Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 562,
"slug": "global-warming",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/tag/global-warming"
},
"science_248": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_248",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "248",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "fish",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "tag",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "fish Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 252,
"slug": "fish",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/tag/fish"
},
"science_3151": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_3151",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "3151",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Future of You",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Future of You Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 3151,
"slug": "future-of-you",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/category/future-of-you"
},
"science_39": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_39",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "39",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Health",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Health Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 41,
"slug": "health",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/category/health"
},
"science_5176": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_5176",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "5176",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "astronauts",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "tag",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "astronauts Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 5176,
"slug": "astronauts",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/tag/astronauts"
},
"science_327": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_327",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "327",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "genetics",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "tag",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "genetics Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 333,
"slug": "genetics",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/tag/genetics"
},
"science_5175": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_5175",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "5175",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "NASA",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "tag",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "NASA Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 5175,
"slug": "nasa",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/tag/nasa"
},
"science_1342": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_1342",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "1342",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "psychology",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "tag",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "psychology Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 1351,
"slug": "psychology",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/tag/psychology"
},
"science_3543": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_3543",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "3543",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "research",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "tag",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "research Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 3543,
"slug": "research",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/tag/research"
},
"science_577": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_577",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "577",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "space",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "tag",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "space Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 583,
"slug": "space",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/tag/space"
},
"science_46": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_46",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "46",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Audio",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Audio Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 48,
"slug": "audio",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/category/audio"
},
"science_43": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_43",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "43",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Radio",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Radio Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 45,
"slug": "radio",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/category/radio"
},
"science_798": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_798",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "798",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "chemistry",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "tag",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "chemistry Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 805,
"slug": "chemistry-2",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/tag/chemistry-2"
},
"science_309": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "science_309",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "science",
"id": "309",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "science",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "tag",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "science Archives | KQED Science",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 314,
"slug": "science",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/science/tag/science"
}
},
"userPermissionsReducer": {
"wpLoggedIn": false
},
"eventsReducer": {},
"fssReducer": {},
"tvDailyScheduleReducer": {},
"tvWeeklyScheduleReducer": {},
"tvPrimetimeScheduleReducer": {},
"tvMonthlyScheduleReducer": {},
"userAccountReducer": {
"user": {
"email": null,
"emailStatus": "EMAIL_UNVALIDATED",
"loggedStatus": "LOGGED_OUT",
"loggingChecked": false,
"articles": [],
"firstName": null,
"lastName": null,
"phoneNumber": null,
"fetchingMembership": false,
"membershipError": false,
"memberships": [
{
"id": null,
"startDate": null,
"firstName": null,
"lastName": null,
"familyNumber": null,
"memberNumber": null,
"memberSince": null,
"expirationDate": null,
"pfsEligible": false,
"isSustaining": false,
"membershipLevel": "Prospect",
"membershipStatus": "Non Member",
"lastGiftDate": null,
"renewalDate": null,
"lastDonationAmount": null
}
]
},
"authModal": {
"isOpen": false,
"view": "LANDING_VIEW"
},
"error": null
},
"youthMediaReducer": {},
"checkPleaseReducer": {
"filterData": {
"region": {
"key": "Restaurant Region",
"filters": [
"Any Region"
]
},
"cuisine": {
"key": "Restaurant Cuisine",
"filters": [
"Any Cuisine"
]
}
},
"restaurantDataById": {},
"restaurantIdsSorted": [],
"error": null
},
"userAgentReducer": {
"userAgent": "Mozilla/5.0 AppleWebKit/537.36 (KHTML, like Gecko; compatible; ClaudeBot/1.0; +claudebot@anthropic.com)",
"isBot": true
}
}
