Flinders Ranges

Sugar gums have a reputation as risky branch-droppers but they’re important to bees, parrots and possums

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Giovedì, Aprile 25, 2024

Eyre Peninsula, Bee, Farmer, Growth, Risk, Life, Human, University, Pollen, Breeding, Flinders Ranges, Safety, Retirement, Tree, Ballarat Road, Animal, Silviculture

Less than a year after my retirement, it shed a couple of major limbs and was removed.

Key Points:

Less than a year after my retirement, it shed a couple of major limbs and was removed.
I had been its custodian for over 20 years and took my responsibility seriously, extending its useful life.
It’s a shame, because there is much to appreciate and admire about the sugar gum.

Read more:
Hard to kill: here's why eucalypts are survival experts

A hardy and impressive tree

In its natural habitat in the Flinders Ranges, sugar gum can be an impressive single-trunked tree.
Like many eucalypts, sugar gum is a hardy tree with plenty of dormant buds (epicormic buds) under its smooth yellow, grey bark.
When the tree is damaged by fire or stressed, these buds may become active and produce lots of new shoots.

A tree that leaves a lasting impression

Coming from the western suburbs of Melbourne, I remember lots of them in rows at the intriguing Albion Explosive Factory.
These trees left a lasting impression.
More broadly, though, many in the wider Australian community still see sugar gums only as risky trees that drop dangerous branches.

Lopping and topping

These trees are capable of growth in heavy clay soils, drought tolerant and efficient water users.
They were a tree that more or less looked after themselves in tough conditions.
Some were regularly pruned at a lower height to encourage growth for the rapid production of firewood or fence posts.
But when you stopped lopping and topping, the shoots grew quickly.

A haven for native animals

Many sugar gums feature hollows and cavities, which become a haven for native fauna.
These provide a home for a possum or two, but it is perhaps parrots that benefit most.
At certain times of year, there is a deafening din around sugar gums as sulphur-crested cockatoos, corellas and lorikeets jostle for nesting sites.

Gregory Moore does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

‘It could be the death of the museum’: why research cuts at a South Australian institution have scientists up in arms

Retrieved on:

Venerdì, Aprile 19, 2024

“It could be the death of the museum,” says renowned mammalogist Tim Flannery, a former director of the museum.

Key Points:

“It could be the death of the museum,” says renowned mammalogist Tim Flannery, a former director of the museum.
“To say research isn’t important to what a museum does – it’s sending shock waves across the world,” she says.

What’s the plan?

According to the museum’s website, this skeleton crew will focus on “converting new discoveries and research into the visitor experience”.
Others have tackled global questions such as the evolution of birds from dinosaurs, how eyes evolved in Cambrian fossils, and Antarctic biodiversity.

What’s so special about a museum?

Their remits are different, says University of Adelaide botanist Andy Lowe, who was the museum’s acting director in 2013 and 2014.
Unlike universities, he says, the museum was “established by government, to carry out science for the development of the state”.

“They’re crucial for what goes on above; you need experts not second-hand translators,” says University of Adelaide geologist Alan Collins.
He wonders what will happen the next time a youngster comes into the museum asking to identify a rock.
The museum’s Phillip Jones now uses this collection in his research, delivering more than 30 exhibitions, books and academic papers.

Continuity and community

Without attentive curation and the life blood of research, the collections are doomed to “wither and die”, says Flannery.
That raises the issue of continuity.
In Flannery’s words, the job of a museum curator:
is like being a high priest in a temple.

Over Jones’ four decades at the museum, his relationships with Indigenous elders have also been critical to returning sacred objects to their traditional owners.
Besides the priestly “chain of care”, there’s something else at risk in the museum netherworld: a uniquely productive ecosystem feeding on the collections.
Here you’ll find PhD students mingling with retired academics; curators mingling with scientists; museum folk with university folk.
In the year ending 2023 for instance, joint museum and university grants amounted to A$3.7 million.

DNA and biodiversity

The museum has also declared it will no longer support a DNA sequencing lab it funds jointly with the University of Adelaide.
“No other institute in South Australia does this type of biodiversity research,” says Andrew Austin, chair of Taxonomy Australia and emeritus professor at the University of Adelaide.
“It’s the job of the museum.” The cuts come while the SA government plans new laws to protect biodiversity.

Elizabeth Finkel does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

How algae conquered the world – and other epic stories hidden in the rocks of the Flinders Ranges

Retrieved on:

Domenica, Agosto 6, 2023

Evidence of how it came to be so beautiful and nurturing is locked in the rocks of South Australia’s Flinders Ranges – a site now vying for World Heritage listing.

Key Points:

Evidence of how it came to be so beautiful and nurturing is locked in the rocks of South Australia’s Flinders Ranges – a site now vying for World Heritage listing.
Their legacy is the oxygen we breathe and the evolution of the first animals more than 500 million years ago.
The soft bodies of these animals have been exceptionally preserved at the new Nilpena-Ediacara National Park, which opened in April 2023.

A superbasin on the shores of the Pacific

The rocks of the Flinders Ranges formed at the same time as the Pacific Ocean basin.
The plate tectonic “dance of the continents” tore North America away from Australia 800 million years ago.
Geologists call this the Adelaide Superbasin.

Land of fire and ice

The planet plunged into an 80-million-year Ice Age, the likes of which has never been seen again.
The Cryogenian contains a least two global glaciations when the planet became covered in ice - an occurrence earth scientists refer to as “Snowball Earth”.
Read more:
Ancient volcanic eruptions disrupted Earth's thermostat, creating a 'Snowball' planet

Part One: Picturing the world before the first animals

The glaciers ploughed through hills and valleys, planing off the country and leaving behind vast swathes of boulder clay that now forms rocks over much of the Flinders Ranges.
We used these variations to build a picture of highly saline shallow seas rich in bacterial life, but devoid of much else.

Part Two: Dating Snowball Earth

Using established methods we can date one of the minerals in the sand (zircon).
This enabled us to more accurately date the Snowball Earth rocks in the Flinders Ranges called the Sturt Formation.
It is the first study to directly date sedimentary rocks that formed during the Snowball Earth event.
So the planet experienced more of a cold period rather than a completely frigid snowball.

The rise of the algae

The geological processes and their timing helps us understand how the Earth system came to be.
The frozen world of the Cryogenian stressed the microbial life that dominated the oceans way back then.
This newcomer was algae, life with cells containing a nucleus.

A place of true world heritage

Our research into these rocks links the interdependence of Earth systems.
The stories locked in the hills of the Flinders Ranges undoubtedly give the region a heritage value to the world.
We eagerly await news of world heritage listing, which is not expected until 2025 at the earliest.