Our citizen science project CurieuzeNeuzen in de Tuin has been picked up by RTInsight, a US-based website focussing on the power of the Internet of Things! It’s always a struggle to reach that side of the big sea with our communication, so this article comes as a happy surprise.
Their take, in short:
The research into data-driven gardening expertly demonstrated that you don’t have to be a data scientist to engage with data in a meaningful way.
Data has the potential to solve some of our most challenging problems – food security, poverty, disaster prevention, and with a recent citizen scientist project in Belgium, climate change. The University of Antwerp is exploring the effects of climate change on gardening with its project on data-driven gardening, but with a twist and a lesson that businesses should take to heart.
Data illuminates patterns that humans miss, but without human interaction, data can skew in unwanted ways. The university’s explorations combine the best of both worlds, human expertise and problem-solving, with data insights. The results have been fascinating.
With summer in full swing, fieldwork pictures from the various The3DLab-teams keep reaching me, leaving me a bit ‘home’sick for the mountains. That feeling of standing on top of a mountain and enjoying the view after a great day of gathering fascinating ecological data…
Great views from Norway, where Ronja is following up her experiment on the role of gaps into facilitating colonization in mountainsA row of disturbances of increasing sizes in the Norwegian mountains, each of them featuring their own TOMST TMS4 microclimate stationsThe team in Abisko profiting from the last day of sunny weather so far to survey plant communities on Mount Nuolja
The soil sensor, the smart sensor that measures heat and drought in 5,000 gardens, parks, nature reserves and fields, was developed by TOMST. A small Czech company, world famous among microclimate scientists and, thanks to the citizen science project CurieuzeNeuzen in de Tuin, also in Flanders, Belgium.
The CurieuzeNeuzen soil sensor is based on the existing TMS-4 sensor from TOMST (you can read all about that sensor in this scientific publication). The big – and only – difference is that the CurieuzeNeuzen “lawn dagger”, as it is affectionally called, is connected to the Internet of Things via Orange’s narrowband 4G network. With the old TMS-4 sensor, researchers retrieve the data manually with a cable.
We spoke to Tomas (founder of TOMST) and Lucie Haase about the sensor and their company. Jonas Lembrechts, microclimate expert, TMS-fan and scientifically responsible for CurieuzeNeuzen, joined us at the table.
How did TOMST come about?
Tomas: TOMST started about 26 years ago, after I left PC Magazine and focused on iButtons. iButtons are small sensors used in badges to open doors. Our first product, the PES, was a small sensor that monitored security guards to see if they were doing their job properly. These sensors had to be extremely robust, since at that time there was a lot of abuse: security guards would destroy the sensor so that their employer would not realise that they were just sitting on their backs.
Precisely because these sensors are so indestructible, my wife’s colleagues, who work for the Czech Academy of Science, became interested in the devices. They were looking for a sensor to measure temperature in natural areas. That’s where the idea came from, together with colleagues from the Department of GIS and Remote Sensing from the Czech Botanical Institute, for the TMS: an indestructible sensor that could withstand extreme temperature fluctuations, with thermometers at three points.
So the reason TOMST ended up in climate science was rather accidental?
TOMST: Indeed, it was more of a side project for us. At the time, 2008, we had a big project going in the UK with a big supermarket chain. That project was very profitable but also very stressful. The soil sensor was more of a hobby. At the time, we only asked our university colleagues to reimburse us for the cost of parts.
Was there also commercial interest in your climate sensors from the outset, or was it mainly from non-profits and universities?
TOMST: Most of our customers are universities and scientists. For scientists, a sensor that always measures in the same way is ideal. That way, scientists can always replicate their experiments. Also, it is usually less of a problem for scientists if they have to wait a few months before they can retrieve their data.
Commercial organisations often see things differently. In Dubai, for example, they would be very interested in sensors that would tell them remotely that the soil is dry and the newly planted palm trees need water. Our current sensors can’t do that yet.
The TMS-NB, the IoT-connected version of the TMS4 gets installed in a Flemish lawn
So before CurieuzeNeuzen contacted you, you were already playing with the idea of making the soil sensor wireless?
TOMST: That’s right! We investigated the possibilities, but ran into a major problem. Our TMS sensors can last for years on one battery and we absolutely want to keep this strong point. This is not possible with, for example, Bluetooth, because it wouldn’t work at as much of a distance as necessary here.
Wireless micro-climate sensors only recently became possible with the development of the narrowband 4G network?
TOMST: Narrowband was indeed one of the first solutions to connect our sensors wirelessly. The advantage of 4G is that it is an existing network, so there are already transmitters everywhere and you never have to send data too far. The infrastructure is there; you don’t have to build a new network.
Narrowband 4G uses very little energy and yet can process more data than, for example, SIG Fox, which we were also thinking about earlier (SIG Fox is another network technology for IoT, ed.). With narrowband, we can guarantee that one soil sensor can send data every day for eight years on one battery charge.
You are a relatively small company, what was the first reaction when CurieuzeNeuzen contacted you with the request to develop and produce 5,000 4G sensors?
TOMST: It was a very intense period. Connecting TMS to the Internet of Things would have happened anyway, only CurieuzeNeuzen accelerated the process enormously. At the beginning we were quite stunned by the request, producing 5,000 ordinary TMS-4 sensors is quite a challenge in itself, let alone developing a whole new 4G model.
Because the corona crisis had us worried about the future of our business, we took up the challenge anyway. The chips of our sensors are entirely made in the Czech Republic. Our partner can only produce a certain number per week. So we knew that it was going to be a very tight deadline to get everything done in time. Despite COVID, it was a very busy year!
What was Orange’s role in the development of the 4G radar band?
TOMST: Orange provides the network to which the sensors are connected in Flanders. Their role was therefore essential. Corona provided an additional difficulty in developing a soil sensor connected to narrowband 4G. We were not allowed to leave the country, so we could not go and test it ourselves in Belgium. We hope that when the vaccination campaign gets underway, we will soon be able to come to Belgium for further testing.
Jonas, you are scientifically responsible for CurieuzeNeuzen, what do you think the development of the TOMST soil sensors means for microclimate science?
Jonas Lembrechts: The development of the TMS-4 by TOMST and the colleagues from the Czech Institute of Botany has meant a lot for the maturing of microclimate science as a scientific discipline. Before this, every researcher used a different sensor. Since TOMST introduced the TMS-4 to the scientific community, it is much easier to compare each other’s measurements. The low price also allows us to work on a larger scale much more quickly.
A global microclimate network, parallel to existing weather station networks, is coming ever closer thanks to the TMS-4. Real-time data will accelerate this even further, because it will also interest commercial players. The Czech Republic is a global model for microclimate science. The Czech Republic was I think the first to have such a network covering the entire country. It would be fantastic to be able to apply this approach elsewhere across the globe.
The TMS-NB provided us with quasi-real time data on the effect of the stationary storm of July 14th and 15th on soil moisture in Flemish gardens. Shown here: the absolute increase in soil moisture percentage added up to around 20% in the eastern part of the country, where the ‘water bomb’ hit hardest.
Partly due to our partnership with De Standaard, CurieuzeNeuzen gets a lot of press attention in Belgium. Was this also picked up in the Czech Republic and did you also get recognition in your own country?
TOMST: Not at all actually, or we didn’t notice it because we were so busy (laughs). Because we mainly supply to universities and scientists, we don’t really need it. Scientists publish papers about their research with our sensors, so we have a certain notoriety within the scientific community. We can only be grateful for that.
We are often asked if the ‘4G lawn dagger’ will become commercially available.
Jonas Lembrechts: After completion of the research, we are going to work with iFlux (a spin-off of the University of Antwerp and VITO, ed.) to see how we can commercially deploy the soil sensors that remain. In the first instance, we are aiming at farmers, horticulturists and city councils.
TOMST: We plan to bring the 4G sensor to the market, but the biggest problem is the network. At the moment, there is no roaming specifically for narrowband, i.e. we have to find a different provider for each market in Europe or elsewhere in the world and install different SIM cards in the sensors. We are still investigating how we can tackle this problem. We are currently thinking about virtual operators. The 5G network is gradually being rolled out, which also creates new opportunities for us.
Due to a global chip shortage, we currently have to wait a long time for the IoT modems of our sensors. Ideally, we will bring a narrowband sensor to market in the spring of 2022.
Kashmir Himalaya. A region famous for its breathtaking heights and steep mountain regions. From 1994 to 2013, the Indian government here worked on one of the most challenging railway lines of the world, facing major earthquake zones, extreme temperatures and inhospitable terrain, and including India’s highest railway bridge.
That’s the setting of our latest paper: we surveyed native and non-native plant vegetation along the whole stretch of the railroad to monitor its effects on plant species distributions.
Railway of Kashmir Himalaya : (a) map of the railway, with marked localities of the sampling sites, (b) a view of a railway station, (c) a sampling site between stations illustrating the sampling design
Both in 2014 and 2017, we (and with ‘we’, I mean Irfan Rashid and his team in Kashmir, as I was safely at home in charge of statistical analyses) collected vegetation data along T-shaped transects, adopting the common MIREN (Mountain Invasion Research Network, www.mountaininvasions.org) road survey design that might be familiar to many following this blog.
So what did we find? Plant communities changed significantly between 2014 and 2017, driven by declines in both native and non-native species richness, and increasing abundance of a few non-native species, especially in areas away from the railway track.
That both native and non-native richness would decline was unexpected, yet these patterns seem to suggest an advancing succession, where initially – rare – pioneer species are replaced by increasingly dominant and often non-native competitors. Additionally, it could suggest a trend towards delayed local extinctions after the disturbance resulting from building the railway.
What is clear is that the plant communities next to railways do not reach equilibrium quickly after a disturbance. More than ten years after railway establishment, succession continued, and signs point towards a landscape increasingly dominated by non-native species. Our study indicates that the single disturbance event associated with constructing a railway in this Himalayan region had large and long-lasting effects on plant communities at and around this transport corridor.
Importantly, the one railway in the Kashmir valley is currently still disconnected from the national railroad system, with plans under way to finish that connection in the near future. As has been shown elsewhere, such a connection with the rest of the country would further play into the cards of non-native species. We thus highlight the need for a long-term region-wide coordinated monitoring and management program to limit further spread of such non-natives, and make specific recommendations of what is needed to manage the vegetation at and around the railway through Kashmir valley, especially with the planned connection of the railway with the rest of the countries railroad network in mind.
Last week, the southeast of Belgium had to cope with extreme precipitation, resulting in hallucinatory images of floodings. These large amounts of precipitation also leave clear traces in the soil moisture measurements of the CurieuzeNeuzen microclimate network.
As you can see on the map below, gardens in the province of Limburg, Antwerp and Flemish Brabant show an absolute peak in soil moisture of up to more than 20% in some places compared to the reference level last weekend.
Difference in soil moisture in Flemish lawns between the peak level on July 15 (after the days of heavy precipitation in the center and east of the country) and the average soil moisture on July 11, as a reference.
Lawns as sponges
Such soil moisture peaks clearly demonstrate the importance of our lawns, gardens and nature as a sponge during heavy rains: all the water that can be absorbed by our garden soils is at least temporarily trapped, and lowers the pressure on our sewers and rivers, thus reducing the risk of flooding. The observed increases in soil moisture even occurred in garden soils that were already very wet, after a very wet first half of July (the average soil moisture percentage on July 11 in Flemish lawns was 38%).
However, at times of extreme precipitation such as this, much of the precipitation does not get absorbed into the soil: there is a maximum amount of precipitation that soils can take at one time before they are completely saturated. The excess water will have to run off above ground, causing flooding. That maximum depends among others on soil type, precipitation history (very wet, but also very dry soils can absorb less water) and soil health (soils with a high diversity of soil life can absorb more water). If a large part of the soil is also covered with concrete or asphalt, the capacity of the soil as a water buffer rapidly decreases. The result: more flooding.
Also, the data from the lawn clouds clearly show the consequences of the long duration of this unusually stationary rainstorm. On 14/7, when the heavy rainfall in Flanders was still concentrated in the east of the region, the increases in soil moisture in the lawns of the CuriousNeuzen network in Limburg were still limited to 10 to 15%.
Difference in soil moisture in Flemish lawns between the peak level on July 14 (after the day with heavy precipitation only in the eastern part of the country) and the average soil moisture on July 11, as a reference.
More extreme weather
We also expect more of these extreme precipitation events in the future. Even if the total amount of precipitation in Belgium remains the same, it will be more difficult for plants to get water if that precipitation falls in fewer, but larger showers, just because the soil becomes saturated and has to lose much more water.
This summer, unlike previous years so far, Flanders was on the ‘wet side’ of persistent weather events in Europe, resulting in a lot of precipitation. This precipitation did allow the soil water stocks to fill up again. Such a wet start also reduces the chance of heat waves in our gardens: the summer sun will need a lot of energy to evaporate all that water, leaving less energy for heating up. A wet soil as we have now is the best air conditioner against heatwaves one can have. With the data from this summer, CurieuzeNeuzen will dive deeper into the role of this soil moisture in keeping our gardens cool.
The patterns on the maps above also clearly show that there can be large regional and local differences in the impact of precipitation on soil moisture. Our scientists will analyze these patterns to see if and how much garden location and management can affect the impact of precipitation on soil moisture, and how much we ourselves can manipulate the infiltration potential of our gardens.
A warmer climate of origin does not necessarily protect exotic plants from heatwaves like our country has experienced in recent summers, we showed in a recent paper by Charly Géron, PhD candidate in our group. What does? Local microclimates!
Our cities have an increasingly rich diversity of alien plant species. In particular, species from native regions with warmer climates tend to thrive in the city, where they can benefit from the so-called “urban heat island effect”, in which our cities start to be several degrees warmer than the surrounding countryside. A recent study by the university of Ghent and the royal meteorological institute of Belgium (Steven Caluwaerts and colleagues) has shown that the temperature difference between city centre and rural country side added up to as much as 6 °C during the heatwave of summer 2019.
“We already knew that exotics from warmer regions prefer our cities because of that warmer climate,” Charly Géron, lead author of the study, explains. “The question remained whether these species would also cope better with heat waves in urban settings in summer, as we knew that the impact of heat waves in the city can be much harder.”
Measuring plant stress on a non-native Artemisia verlotiorum
So now it turns out that those warm-adapted species don’t necessarily have an edge in the city during a heat wave: they too see their stress levels go up. At least, if they are in full sunlight. Both species of warm and cold origin responded mainly to local shade effects: growing in the shade no matter if it is due to trees or buildings, allowed them to keep their stress levels under control. However, in unshaded city or countryside open spaces, their stress levels increased.
Anthocyanin levels (a measure of plant stress) going up in all studied Asteraceae with increasing openness of their growing location (SVF = Sky View Factor, a measure of how much sky they can see).
“These findings tell us that the effects of urban heat islands on plants are not as straightforward as thought,” explains Géron. “Although those warm species probably benefit from the warmer winter temperatures in the city (you also have much less ice-scratching to do if your car is parked in the city than in the countryside, because the heat island effect protects against freezing temperatures) or also the longer growing season (earlier and later favourable periods in cities with milder temperatures), for those extreme temperatures during a heat wave, it is mainly the local shade effect that counts.”
Similar patterns also show up in the dataset of the citizen science project “CuriousNoses in the Garden”, says Jonas Lembrechts, scientist in the latter project. “We see clearly that local factors such as shading by trees or buildings can do wonders for maximum temperatures in our city soils, a cooling effect from which those plants can also benefit. At night or in winter, those local effects play much less of a role: the city as a whole heats up due to the release of heat by the urban structures, whether or not there is a lot of shade nearby.” This contrast between local shading effects during the day and urban heat islands at night that CuriousNoses’ citizen scientists observe now appears to have an impact on the success of non-native plants as well.
Difference in temperature between day (left) and night (right) across Flanders, with the heat island effect popping up at night only. Interactive figure made by De Standaard, accessible here.
Angelica archangelica along mountain road in the northern Scandes, Norway
Sweden
Hair’s tail cotton grass
Seen from Nuolja, Abisko
Diapensia lapponica in one of our plots
Lake Törnetrask, Abisko Research Station, Abisko, Sweden
Hallerbos 2017
Young bluebell (Hyacinthoides non-scripta) surrounded by flowers of yellow archangel (Lamium galeobdolon)
The common bluebell (Hyacinthoides non-scripta), the signature flower of the Hallerbos
Single bluebell flower surviving on a wetter spot, as indicated by the field of wild garlic (Allium ursinum)
A really wet patch of forest, with giant horsetail (Equisetum telmateia) in a field of wild garlic (Allium ursinum)
Wild garlic (Allium ursinum) in the Hallerbos flowers a bit later than the bluebells, yet this one was already in full bloom
A bumblebee visiting yellow archangel (Lamium galeobdolon)
A bumblebee visiting yellow archangel (Lamium galeobdolon)
Wild garlic (Allium ursinum)
Wild garlic (Allium ursinum)
Weirdly beautiful, the inflorescence of pendulous sedge (Carex pendula), typical for the wettest spots in the forest
Weirdly beautiful, the inflorescence of pendulous sedge (Carex pendula), typical for the wettest spots in the forest
A little stream in the Hallerbos, surrounded by endless fields of wild garlic (Allium ursinum)
The herb-paris (Paris quadrifolia), less common in the forest
Wild garlic (Allium ursinum)
Bluebells (Hyacinthoides non-scripta)
Weirdly beautiful, the inflorescence of pendulous sedge (Carex pendula), typical for the wettest spots in the forest
Another one from the wet plots: large bitter-cress (Cardamine amara)
Another one from the wet plots: large bitter-cress (Cardamine amara)
Young beech leaves, as soon as they are fully grown, spring in the understory is over
A beech forest without understory, most likely too dry and too acid for any survivors
A young beech seedling (Fagus sylvatica), looking nothing like a beech, yet everything like a tiny dancer
Young beech seedling (Fagus sylvatica)
Bluebells (Hyacinthoides non-scripta)
Bluebells (Hyacinthoides non-scripta)
Bluebells (Hyacinthoides non-scripta)
Mountain melick (Melica nutans), a grass in the most amazing green
Bluebells (Hyacinthoides non-scripta) in a rare patch of mountain melick (Melica nutans), a grass in the most amazing green
Bluebells (Hyacinthoides non-scripta)
Bluebells (Hyacinthoides non-scripta)
Montpellier 2017
The entrance to the cathedral of Montpellier
The cathedral of Montpellier
The entrance to the cathedral of Montpellier
The cathedral of Montpellier
Narcissus poetics
The cathedral of Montpellier
The botanical garden of Montpellier
The botanical garden of Montpellier
The botanical garden of Montpellier
Brackish Camargue vegetation
Brackish Camargue vegetation
Brackish Camargue vegetation
A typical lagune
Brackish Camargue vegetation
Camargue horses
Camargue horses
Camargue horses
Brackish Camargue vegetation
Brackish Camargue vegetation
Brackish Camargue vegetation
Camargue horses
Brackish Camargue vegetation
Little egret in the evening sun
Flamingo’s in the evening sun
A typical lagune
Dandelion fuzz
Grass lily
Grass lily
Dandelion fuzz
Veronica in a sea of poplar fluff
Euphorbia in a sea of poplar fluff
Poplar
Gare du Midi, Brussels
Gare du Midi, Brussels
Gare du Midi, Brussels
Gare du Midi, Brussels
Sweden autumn 2016
Autumn in Abisko
Yellow leaves of mountain birch, with lake Torneträsk in the background.
Lapporten, the gate to Lapland, in Abisko
Rain blowing over the Abisko National Park
The colours of the north: red fireweed and yellow mountain birches, with lake Torneträsk on the background
Yellow leaves of mountain birch, with lake Torneträsk in the background.
Rain on the background, the ski lift in Abisko on the foreground
The steep slope of mount Nuolja on a dramatic looking morning
The beautiful colors of lake Torneträsk in Abisko
A little stream on top of the mountain, with a view on Lapporten, the gate to Lapland
Well, that is a beautiful table with a nice view on lake Torneträsk in Abisko
Our little experiment on top of the mountain in Abisko, with a view on Lapporten
Autumn in Abisko is extremely colorfull
The ski lift with a view on Abisko National Park and Lapporten
Hiking dowhill towards lake Torneträsk
This green is greener than the greenest green: moss on top of mount Nuolja
Well, that is a beautiful table with a nice view on lake Torneträsk in Abisko
The ski lift with a view on Abisko National Park and Lapporten
The ski lift with a view on Abisko National Park and Lapporten
The most beautiful hiking trail of the world: Nuolja in Abisko
Angelica archangelica, often the biggest plant of the Arctic
The most beautiful hiking trail of the world: Nuolja in Abisko
Cirsium helenioides, the melancholy thistle
Hiking down mount Nuolja
The steep slope of mount Nuolja on a dramatic looking morning
The colours of the north: red fireweed and yellow mountain birches, with lake Torneträsk on the background
The prettiest yellow and blue: autumn in Abisko
Fireweed, Epilobium angustifolium
Campanula or bellflower, I think ‘uniflora’
Vaccinium myrtillus
Cornus suecica, the prettiest red of the world
Hieracium alpinum, alpine hawkweed
Carex atrata, one of my favourite sedges
Alpine clubmoss, Diphasiastrum alpinum
Agrostis capillaris, bentgrass
Common yarrow (Achillea millefolium)
Anthoxanthum odoratum, sweet vernal grass, fully grown and mature
Snow scooter trail
Our plot in the mids of a field of horsetails (Equisetum pratense)
Equisetum pratense
Cliff overlooking the valley with the road to Norway
Seedling of Taraxacum officinale, the dandelion, after two years of growing in bad conditions
Poa alpina, the alpine meadow-grass, with its viviparous seeds
Massive flowerhead of Angelica archangelica
Angelica archangelica
Blueberry (Vaccinium myrtillus) in autumn
A lowland marsh in Abisko in autumn
Installing the plots of our trail observations on top of mount Nuolja
Installing the plots of our trail observations on top of mount Nuolja
Tanacetum vulgare (Tansy), non-native for the high north
Autumn forest down in the valley
The valley of Nuolja to Björkliden
Summer on the Nuolja-side
A full rainbow behind mount Nuolja in Abisko
It’s raining in the west, clouds trapped behind the mountains
A strong wind blowing rain from behind the mountains to our side
A strong wind blowing rain from behind the mountains to our side
Betula nana, the dwarf birch, mini autumn forest
Betula nana, the dwarf birch, mini autumn forest
The valley of Björkliden in autumn
The valley of Björkliden in autumn
The valley of Björkliden in autumn
The valley of Björkliden in autumn
Sweden spring 2016
Oxyria digyna
Bartsia alpina
Dryas octopetala
Trifolium repens
Although the alpine zone has been harder for invasives to access than most places, human structures like trails are often an easy gateway for the invaders to get up there. Picture from Abisko, Swedish Lapland.
Eriophorum vaginatum
The valley of the lakes
Melting snowpatch on a lake
Silene acaulis
Trifolium pratense
Salix reticulata
Silene suecica
Western European species like the red clover (Trifolium pratense) here are often listed as non-native species in mountain regions.
Cornus suecica
Ranunculus glacialis
Rubus arcticus
Overlooking the valley of Laktajakka
Ranunculus glacialis
A rainy hike
Amiens
View from my office window
Amiens is filled with cute little houses
Cathedral with a glimpse of spring
View from my office window
The museum behind the beautiful gates
Cathedral at night
House on the square before the cathedral
Le Club d’Aviron in winter weather
Cathedral at night
Cathedral seen from the frozen Parc Saint-Pierre
Nice architectural curve
Gargoyle planning to eat the cathedral
Almost cold enough for ice-skating
Just outside of Amiens
Enjoying silence and the morning sun
Sunny but cold, the Quai Bélu
Frozen mirror
Colourful mirror
The southern side
Maria without a shirt
Cold!
Sun rising above the water
Frozen to the bone
Winter sun on the Place du Don
Cathedral at night
Sunny but cold, the Quai Bélu
Cathedral at night
Sweden autumn 2015
Lichen
Sweden summer 2015
View on the 1000 meter plots
Doing research on a cold Arctic morning
Plots flooded by the snowmelt
Flooded by the snowmelt
Meltwater river, racing down the mountain
After a hike, even the most basic house looks cosy. Little hut in the mountains, open for everybody
Snowbridge, maybe don’t cross…
Snowbridge
View from a cliff
Silene acaulis or cushion pink, cutest plant of the Arctic
Two seasons in one image
Steep slope
Hiking down
Narvik Kirche, church of the subarctic
Narvik Kirche
Reindeer on top of the mountain
Narvik Kirche
Summer at the church
Summer flowers
Massive waterfall
Young willow catkins
View from Narvik’s hospital, with lilac flowers
Building a bridge over the fjord will gain al drivers at least an hour
Norwegian fjord
Posing with the water, getting soaked
Minimalistic mountains
Insect investigating our reindeer antler
Catching mosquitoes with our license plate, harvest of the year!
Posing with the plot
Fieldwork on the most beautiful spot of the world
Fieldwork on the most beautiful spot of the world
Summer bridge – still next to the sadly impassable river
Rhinanthus flower in the mountains
Plateau in the valley, beautiful brown
Experimental view from my favourite plot
Salix catkins
Extremely old Betula tree
Waterfall from a cliff
Buttercup is the earliest in spring, here
Rocks!
Alpine views
Views!
Fieldwork
Jumping over rivers
Plot
Golden plover
Angry lemming
Green, the whole north is green!
Snow, so much snow left!
Minimalistic mountain moments
Fieldwork
The research center
Red clover – focal invader
Look at this tiny cute snail!
Massive floods of melting water
Bartsia alpina
Hooray, a toilet!
Dryas octopetala
Lowest elevation plots
Butterball!
That’s a lot of water
Midnight sun is the best
At the lakeside
Beautiful Bistorta vivipara
Don’t fall in the water
Midnight sun
Wild river
Art – made by ages of wild rivers
Baby firework for America’s independence day
Midnight sun at the lake
The Abisko canyon was wilder than ever
That’s a crazy amount of water!
The Abisko canyon was wilder than ever
The Abisko canyon was wilder than ever
Black and white
Stone-man overlooking Abisko
Nothing as soft as a willow catkin
Label and soil temperature sensor attached
I’d drive to the top every day
Reflections
Rocks and clouds
Brave little birch
Brewing our camping poison
Basic camping stuff
Camping in Norway
Home-made temperature houses
Roadside research at its best
Norway is crazy
Horsetail is so funny
Little creek in magical forest
Birches, birches everywhere
Beautiful rock, a gift from the river
Another roadside fellow
Lichen
Ready to rock the summer
Collecting mosses
That’s a crazy old lichen
Tiny tiny piny trees, but old, so old!
Ready to jump into the fjord?
Ready to jump into the fjord?
That’s a spiky stone!
Views on Norwegian fjords
Silene in the mountains
Cute little orchid
Skua
Attacking skua, mind your heads!
Watch out for the attack of the fierce skua!
Black snail
New plot!
Still a lot of snow to melt, but this spot was free for a new plot
Reindeer are better than people
Two seasons in one picture
Let’s see what is happening to the balance in mountains! Is this a starting avalanche, or will it last a bit longer?
Cute little hut
Climbing mountains by car
Softest moss in history
Drosera in the marsh
Hiking in no-man’s land
The clouds are coming
Abisko valley
‘Butterball’
Fieldwork in the tundra
Abisko valley
Little plot
Clouds and sun and mountains
Making soup on a campfire with a view
Little creek on high elevations
Skua on the look-out
Melting snow in a river
Rhodiola rosea and the Törnetrask lake
Beginning of spring
Flooded plots, melting snow, impassible wetness
Ferns and horsetails
Chile 2015
Lunch made by our local colleague, with funny bread (tasty as well!)
Trips to the field sites were sometimes a real adventure, especially right after snowmelt