Laughter
and excitement filled the air as a group of naturalists and educators loaded
into canoes at the Trempealeau National Wildlife Refuge in southwest Wisconsin.
Off in the distance, the mighty Mississippi rolled by, with barges, pleasure
boats, and runaways on rafts.
In
the quiet backwaters, we pushed our canoes through thick patches of water
lilies. We stopped to admire the pure white grace of a great egret before our
commotion disturbed it into flight. Its short, circuitous flight ended on the
branch of a dead tree, right next to the regal silhouette of a great blue
heron.
Peering
over the side of the boat, we caught sight of a water boatman swimming by. These
small aquatic insects have long, flattened hind legs that work just like canoe
paddles. Gazing skyward, we glimpsed the soaring specks of bald eagles, turkey
vultures, and white pelicans over the far bluffs.
A
thick patch of American lotus flowers caught our attention, and the canoeists
converged on them for a better look. These water lily-like plants have huge,
ten-inch diameter, pale yellow flowers that can rise six feet above the water
on thick stalks. Platter-sized leaves, up to twenty inches in diameter, float
on the surface or project above. This lotus is related to the sacred lotus, a
powerful spiritual symbol of enlightenment, awakening, and rebirth in many
cultures around the world.
As
we paddled through the patch, I noticed something remarkable about the lotus.
No matter how much I pushed the leaf under the mucky water with my paddle, the
leaves refused to get wet or dirty.
This
phenomenon isn’t unique to the lotus—you can observe it on your cabbage and
broccoli, nasturtium, and columbine. Water beads up and rolls freely around
their leaves. Jewelweed, a plant of moist woodlands whose juices may treat
poison ivy, might be named for the beautiful silvery sparkle the water droplets
make on its leaves.
The
lotus is particularly good at staying clean and dry, though, and its secrets
have been named the “lotus effect.” The lotus’s cuticle, or protective outer
leaf covering, has a rough micro-topography made of soluble lipids in a matrix
of wax.
Water
has two main forces working on it at the same time: its attraction to itself,
and adhesive forces that cause it to stick to surfaces. On smooth surfaces, those
adhesive forces are maximized, but on the tiny wax mountains of a lotus leaf,
it is easier for the water to stick to itself than to the air. Thus, the
surface is water repellant, or “hydrophobic.” The water beads up and rolls off
in the slightest breeze or tilt.
As
the water scoots off, any solids it encounters (dirt, fungal spores, bacteria,
algae, etc.) stick to the droplet more easily than to the leaf’s
microtopography. The contaminants are carried away as the water droplets roll
easily along. This is an excellent adaptation for anything living in the Big
Muddy.
The
hot sun beat down on our necks as we began to paddle back to the landing. A bit
of orange caught my eye, and I turned just in time to see a small butterfly
dance across the water. Butterfly scales are also hydrophobic, and their shape
encourages the directional shedding of water. They can survive a rainstorm
because their wings wick water away from their body, and refuse to get wet.
We turned
to watch as a flock of ducks burst into the air. Bird feathers are naturally
waterproof, although birds must preen constantly to maintain the integrity of
their raincoat. While preening, birds coat their feathers with natural oils,
and zip feathers together with tiny barbules that also provide a hydrophobic
microtopography.
A
hydrophobic surface is also useful for the water boatman we saw earlier. It uses
a coat of tiny hydrophobic hair-like structures to hold water away from its
body, so that it can breathe underwater as it hunts.
You might
imagine that self-cleaning, un-wetable surfaces could be useful to humans, too.
In fact, researchers have created self-cleaning house paint, self-cleaning
coatings for textiles and clothing, and roofing tiles that all exhibit the
“lotus-effect.”
When
we borrow nature’s design principles to create more sustainable products and
processes, it is known as biomimicry. The term was coined in 1997, by biologist
and science writer, Janine Benyus, in her book, “Biomimicry: Innovation
Inspired by Nature.” She writes, “Biomimicry is not about harvesting nature’s
resources but about sitting at her feet as students.”
This
group of educators and Huck Finn wannabes sure enjoyed nature’s lessons today.
For
over 45 years, the Cable Natural History Museum has served to connect you to
the Northwoods. Come visit us in Cable, WI, at 13470 County Highway M. The
current exhibit, “Deer Camp: A Natural and Cultural History of White-tailed
Deer,” opened in May 2013 and will remain open until April, 2014.
Find
us on the web at www.cablemuseum.org to learn more about our exhibits and
programs. Discover us on Facebook, or at our blogspot, http://cablemuseumnaturalconnections.blogspot.com/
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