Pollen: It's not just something to sneeze at
By Gary Raham
Nature Writer and Illustrator
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Sometimes it's hard to love something that makes your eyes tear up and
your nose dribble, but pollen has so much going for it that it at least
deserves our respect.
Wind-borne pollen, like that produced by grasses, tweaks my allergic responses
the most, but neither you nor I would want to discourage the sex life of
grasses. Grasses like corn, wheat and rice feed the world. And pollen has
turned out to be an amazing tool for a wide variety of scientific disciplines,
including botany, paleontology, archeology, geology and climatology. All
this value is wrapped up in tough little packages the size of dust grains.
Sex cells run amok
Plants practice an "overkill" method of reproduction because plant male
cell producers (anthers) can't wander around looking for attractive ovaries
in bars and grocery stores. Thus, a plant will produce hundreds of millions
of pollen grains per flower and either coerce animals into helping them
transfer that pollen or cast their fate to the winds by producing veritable
clouds of particles, only a tiny fraction of which will ever surf an air
current to a female flower of the right species. Here in the Rockies, pine
trees often coat nearby lakes with thick films of their wind-borne, amber
pollen.
Insects, birds and various mammals, tempted by pollen's rich food value,
can easily be conned into helping plants. Pollen grains are 16 to 30 percent
protein, 1 to 10 percent fat, 1 to 7 percent starches, low in sugar and
high in vitamins. Plants that target animal messengers produce a thick,
nonvolatile oil that adheres globs of pollen to each messy feeder. The
animals carry that pollen to the next flower they visit, usually one of
the same species.
Wind-borne pollen, light and dry, relies on blundering into the female
pistil of the same species. Once at a female stigma, the male sex cell
must send out a pollen tube which chemically digests its way through the
neck of the ovary to the female egg cells. Two nuclei then traverse the
tube. One nucleus fertilizes the egg cell, the other combines with a secondary
female cell to form the endosperm that makes up most of the resulting seed--a food source to get the seedling up and growing.
Time capsule
When pollen cell nuclei reach their destination, the pollen grain has
served its biological purpose. Its vacated shell holds no more value to
the plant than an empty soda can has for us. But to scientists, that shell
--because of its durability and uniqueness to its parent plant--is a time
capsule packed with valuable information. And because pollen is so small
and produced in huge quantities, it piles up in sediments everywhere.
If you drill into old lake or bog sediments and pull up a core of material,
you will find a continuous record of the rain of pollen (and spores) from
all the plants that ever lived near that lake for thousands--even millions--of years. Scientists have done just that ever since Axel Blytt (1843-1898),
Rutger Sermander (1866-1944) and E. J. Lennart von Post (1884-1951) first
came up with the idea. The ebb and flow of forests and prairies in north
America and Europe have been read and recorded and used to measure the
advance and retreat of glaciers as ice ages have come and gone over the
past million years or so. An entire science--called palynology--has developed
around all the nuances of interpreting pollen assemblages in the fossil
record.
In 1954 one oil company took out a patent on a method based on the discovery
that ancient ocean shorelines could be pinpointed by observing the size
ratios of pollen in marine sediments. Smaller and lighter pollen grains
tended to be transported farther away from shore than larger, heavier grains.
Ancient shorelines thus provide geologists with clues to the location of
oil deposits.
Ancient detective work
Pollen also infiltrates into some unusual places, leaving a unique signature
that aids archaeologists. In late January of this year, Nature magazine
reported that a French scientist, Serge Muller, is using pollen to determine
exactly where certain ships lost at sea were built. It seems that pollen
tends to stick to the resin used to seal a boat's hull. Pollen produced
by plants near a shipyard provide a unique "birth certificate" for any
boat built there.
Muller is studying the Baie-de-l'Amitie, a ship that wrecked off the south
coast of France some 2,000 years ago. He believes builders sealed the boat's
hull somewhere east of Italy because it contains both wood and pollen from
Platanus, a tree that is restricted to the eastern Mediterranean. His conclusion
is supported by pollen from weeds like Haplophyllum, most species of which
are restricted to the same area. Such information helps unravel the mysteries
of ancient commerce. Another researcher hopes to use Muller's technique
to figure out where the Persians built the fleet they used to invade Greece
in the fifth century B.C.
The human connection
Scientists have recently uncovered another interesting link between humans
and pollen. An amino acid called amino butyric acid, which is an important
chemical allowing human brain cells to communicate, also promotes the growth
of pollen tubes necessary for plant reproduction. Perhaps the Navajos instinctively
gave pollen its proper place in the scheme of things. Stephen C. Jett in
"Navajo Wildlands" said, "The symbol for life and productivity, for peace
and prosperity, is pollen. Pollen symbolizes light."
Gesundheit.
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