by Sara Aoki

In an era of climate change and global warming, the United States must look to an unlikely savior for reducing greenhouse gas emissions: coastal wetlands.

Wetlands, otherwise known as salt marshes or tidal swamps, have achieved celebrity status for their ability to store large amounts of carbon. Unfortunately, man-made structures like bridges and dams have triggered many wetlands to emit carbon in the form of methane, an even more powerful greenhouse gas than carbon dioxide. Luckily, a recent study indicates that some coastal wetlands could slash their methane emissions dramatically–up to the equivalent of 1 million metric tons of carbon dioxide–if they’re restored to their most natural, environmentally friendly state.

by Kristen Goodhue

“Plant it and forget it for 10 years. Nothing interesting happens in young forests.”

John Parker remembers hearing that advice from a colleague who worked in tropical forests. It was the summer of 2012. Parker, a senior scientist at the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center (SERC), was on the verge of planting 20,000 tree saplings on the center’s campus. Once planted, his team would watch a new forest grow from scratch. He hoped the project would continue for at least a century.

“I was pretty worried,” Parker said. The early years were especially rough, as his lab worked to win small grants and recruit interns to help keep it going. “We didn’t forget it,” he said. “We kept the experiment running and collected data. But it was somewhat piecemeal without a big grant to hold it all together.”

Just over a decade later, the 60-acre experiment—BiodiversiTREE—is a thriving mosaic of sycamores, elms, tulip poplars and 13 other tree species. It’s attracted scientists from around the world. Some are former SERC postdocs returning with their students. Others are new collaborators.

Parker now sees the project as a model of “if you build it, they will come.” But building it was tough.

by Anna Davis

Though the Smithsonian is home to both mind-bending art and groundbreaking science, these disciplines all too often appear as opposites. The myth of “analytical, left-brained” scientists and “creative, right-brained” artists creates a false dichotomy. However, art is an increasingly important way to communicate complex scientific ideas.

This spring, the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center (SERC) sponsored its first science illustration internship and experienced the power of bridging the gap between art and science. Anna Pedersen joined SERC for an 11-week internship, thanks to generous funding from the Maxwell/Hanrahan Foundation. Her intern project centered on creating a beautiful and original painting that helps communicate SERC science.

by Laila Hurd

We may think we’re familiar with photosynthesis—the textbook recipe plants use to make food from light, water and carbon dioxide (CO₂). But measuring it, particularly in natural settings, requires factoring in complex variables. Kelvin Acebron is a postdoc in the Quantitative Ecology Lab at the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center. He’s spent the last decade measuring photosynthesis and studying its regulation in the field. In this Q&A, Kelvin discusses photosynthesis in agriculture and in plants’ natural habitats (like tropical forests). He also shares what he’s learned in his global scientific journey. This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

by Laila Hurd

Though currently a volunteer with the Chesapeake Water Watch project, this is not Maria Alejandra Ceballos’ first rodeo at the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center (SERC). Thirty years ago, Ceballos spent her summer interning at SERC’s Photobiology and Solar Radiation Lab with Pat Neale. Since then, she has made a career studying water quality and ecology, combining her passion for the outdoors with scientific pursuits.

by Laila Hurd

When it comes to media coverage, not all invasive species get equal treatment. A new study found that out of 209 invasive plant species in the United States, half the media coverage over the past decade centered around just 10 species. Additionally, 80% of media coverage focused on only the top 25 invasive species. 

by Paula Jasinski and Kristen Goodhue

Protecting the ocean and providing livelihoods and food security do not have to be mutually exclusive. A new study, led by the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center (SERC), shows that limiting human activity in parts of the ocean can bolster fish populations and the well-being of people living nearby.

by Emily Borger, education specialist

Beaks and fins and claws, oh my!

Volunteers are central to most of the work that happens at the Reed Education Center, and caring for the animals in all of the fish tanks is no exception. Recently, we’ve added a brand new group of volunteers to help us care for our aquaria and ambassador animals. We call them our “Tank Team.”

The Tank Team volunteers chop food, weigh terrapins, scrub tanks and rinse filters every week. And the animals have been loving it! Having the volunteers take on these tasks allows the education staff to devote more of their time to developing and running programs for students and teachers, and it ensures that we are able to provide visitors with a beneath-the-surface view of what lives right off of the SERC dock.

by Cindy Gilmour

Dr. Cindy Gilmour recently retired from SERC after 18 years serving as the principal investigator of SERC’s Microbial Ecology Lab. Prior to coming to SERC, Cindy was a researcher at the Academy of Natural Sciences Estuarine Research Center. Below, she shares some of the discoveries and environmental victories she has seen over her four-decade career.

by Anna Davis, education postdoc

It may have been a long time since you were a student. However, there are likely some educational experiences that have stuck with you long after you left formal education.

For me, I vividly remember learning about watersheds in elementary school. A group of environmental educators visited our class one morning to demonstrate how watersheds work. I watched as they added colorful ‘pollutants’ to rivers in a three-dimensional model of the Chesapeake Bay watershed. As we made it “rain” with spray bottles, the pollutants flowed toward the low-lying Bay where they combined into a brown liquid.

When I left the classroom, I was able to connect that the streams and rivers in the model were the same ones I spent my summers playing in. And I understood that local actions had larger consequences downstream. It was a critical moment that began my interest in environmental science.

This educational experience was memorable because it related to my “place”—an area with meaning.