Fungal Matters

A majestic mushroom...a type of ectomycorrhizae (Wikipedia)

 

I've been thinking a lot about fungi lately....fungi and toxins.  I'll get to the toxins at another time, but fungi are very interesting little creatures.  You've heard of mycorrhizae, right?  There has been much chatter in the gardening world of mycorrhizae (pronounced MY-COR-YZA) but many people may not know what exactly mycorrhizae do, what they are and why they're important.  I'll try to quickly sort it out here. 

(First, mycorrihizae aren't plant roots and they aren't exactly fungi, they are the connectors between the two.  For simplicity, I'm treating them here as a unit.  My apologies to all scientific types who find this a disgusting example of a layperson oversimplifying perfectly comprehensible scientific facts.)

We've known about mycorrhizae for a long time.  These little fungal plant pals have been around for millennia.  Some speculate that they were a key factor in moving aquatic plants onto land millions of years ago.  However, advanced research on these plant/fungal relationships is relatively recent, still evolving and may actually save the world (see TED talk below.)

There are many specific types of mycorrhizae.  They are generally categorized into two types depending on how they colonize the roots of a plant; ectomycorrhizae and endomycorrhizae.  Both attach themselves to plant roots which then lengthen the reach of the root well beyond the distance the root can actually extend itself.  The ectos colonize the surface of roots and the endos colonize the cellular layers below the root surface and extend out.   

Ectomycorrhizae (white) on Douglas Fir Roots (Wikipedia) 

 

Not only do these fungal networks spread long distances but they are tiny and can push into very small soil pores in search of water and nutrients, to places plant roots can't reach.  You thought roots were small?  Well, these little mushrooms are much, much smaller.  Some can only be clearly seen with an electron microscope. But some, like the delicious truffle, are big and much sought after.  Why do the plants allow these little interlopers to invade them?  Because they nourish the plants, water them and protect them from disease.   And, here's the key takeaway point for home gardeners:  They do it so you don't have to.

You may not know it, but you are nurturing a system of mycorrhizal connections in your garden right now.  Yes, right now.  What a good gardener you are!  

There are a couple of ways you can accidentally do damage to this web of fungal plant helpers, so try to avoid doing these couple of things and your plants, trees and shrubs will thank you. 
     1) Don't rototill your soil... as in the good old days of farming. 
         Rototilling basically chops up the fungal networks and it takes them a while to  
         rebuild themselves after the assault. 
     2) Don't dump excess nitrogen or synthetic fertilizers on your plants.  The plants don't
         need their co-dependent little fungi if they have you and they will summarily drop their 
         fungal network in favor of your easy N, so don't be an enabler. 

(By now you may be wondering what the fungi get out of this arrangement...don't worry, they are fairly compensated in the form of carbohydrates, sugar, fed to them by the plant.)

One final point to make about mycorrhizae; they pal around with about 95% of the plant world.  This means that most of the plants in your garden are willing to take their calls, accept their friend request and have dinner with them.  So invite them in!  Don't be shy.  Fungi are your friends. 

One other final point to make about mycorrhizae.  A number of organic soil companies and plant growers (including the most famous of all 'Crafters' of plants) inoculates their growing soils with these fungi.  When you plant one of their plants, you receive the invisible gift of mycorrizhael inoculation for the extra dollars you spend on their plants.  Doesn't that make you feel better about spending over $12 on a 1 gallon plant? 

One other final point, and this is my final, final point.  You can inoculate your existing soil with mycorrizhae.

If you find this subject as endlessly fascinating as I do, take a look at this TED talk.  You will never, ever look at a mushroom the same way again.

The Wonders of Respiration

Some years ago I read about a relaxation-inducing breathing technique, something one can use if a stressful situation is causing one to breathe in short, fluttery breaths like a frightened squirrel on one of those spinning bird-feeders, not in slow, relaxed breaths like a calm and controlled adult human being. The technique was called something like 'Breathing the Universe'.

The basic idea is that the person performing the technique observes their out-breath, and ignores their in-breath.  They basically just wait until their lungs naturally fill with air again all by themselves.  According to the technique's inventor, we are part of a living, conscious universe and the universe conducts our in-breath, so we don't have to.  When we consciously breathe out, the universe will automatically breathe in with and for us and thus we relax and unite with nature as we breathe out and, through us, it breathes in, like an enormous oxygen exchange apparatus of which we are a tiny part.

Yes, yes, we breathe.  This is no secret, you say.  How does all this relate to plants? Well, I thought about this connection last week as we were studying transpiration (essentially, sweating) and respiration (essentially, breathing) in plants.  It's true, plants breathe and sweat, just like us.  See all those tiny droplets on the strawberry leaf in my raised veggie bed?  You always thought this was dew (falling as condensation from the sky), didn't you? Me, too.  It's not. Each drop corresponds to the end of a leaf vein which corresponds to the end of a root. The plant has dragged moisture out of the soil through its roots, pulled it up its stem and, in the morning, gently purged the excess as this stunning little diamond necklace hanging from the leaves.  Soon the droplets will evaporate into the air where they will become one with the universe, or at least with the air in my backyard, and later fall back to the soil where they will be pulled in by the roots, travel through the stem and be set free by the leaves once again.  

And, about the 'respiration' part.  Plants breathe.  Oxygen.  Just like you and me.  They also breathe carbon dioxide, as we all know, but in much tinier concentrations than we imagine.  Luckily, even though they don't take in all that much of our CO2 relative to the amount each of us exudes in one form or another, they graciously release quite a bit of oxygen for us to breathe due to the large amount of real estate occupied by their collective aggregation of leaves.  They breathe oxygen into their leaves, and even into their roots, which is why we unintentionally drown many of them by lovingly overwatering, thus eliminating oxygen at their roots.  This is also why we are told to 'aerate' our lawns, to re-introduce oxygen back to the roots of the grass we have so happily trampled into a concrete block.

While studying all of this breathing and sweating of plants it occured to me that we as a species are as utterly and completely entwined and enmeshed with nature's breath as my strawberry plant is.  Whether we want to acknowledge it or not.