Showing posts with label tardigrades. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tardigrades. Show all posts

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Water bear! (repost) Part II


This is a repost from my previous blog, from November, 20006, the second of 2 parts. First part here.

I first read about water bears, or tardigrades, a year ago, in "Nature in Miniature" by Richard Headstrom. (1968) Unfortunately, he misled me: he said that "the only way to find it is to add a little water to the sediment of a rain gutter or the mud from a pond and examine it with a microscope." So I've been looking all along in the wrong places, and not realizing I could use a hand lens. I found it, finally, in moss, as I wrote a few days ago. (2006)

The water bear, probably so named (in 1773) because it looks somewhat like a miniature bear, is a tiny animal, barely growing to 1.2 mm. Enough to be seen with the naked eye in a good light, just. Add to that, that it is transparent, and the light has to be falling from the right angle. But still, well worth the look.

Basic body structure: 5 segments, 8 legs, each with tiny "claws" that look something like a mole's digging feet. Two eyes, small and almost invisible, even under a 60x microscope. A round mouth/snout like the business end of a nose-hair clipper. Not much else; it's a very simple animalcule.

They eat bits of detritus that they find in their placid amble; some are vegetarian, some meat-eaters. Some reproduce asexually, but not all. They live everywhere on earth, wherever they find water, fresh or salt.

And they are slow-moving. That's why they're called the "tardigrades", or "slow steppers". But determined enough to travel a fair distance nontheless. Stubborn little beasties.

More than stubborn: Headstrom calls it "one of the toughest animals we may ever expect to find."

They need water to be active. But give them a spell of dry weather, and they shrivel up into a "grain of powder". (It doesn't matter what stage of life they are at, either; they go into cryptobiosis, "hidden life" at almost any stage.) (Added, 2008) Leave them that way for years. Wet them down and wait a few hours, and they swell up and walk off as if nothing had happened.

Freeze them. No problem. They live happily in Antartica. They can survive down to -272 degrees Celsius. Try that yourself!

Boil them. Not to worry; boiling water only reaches 100 degrees C; the water bear can tolerate 150.

Deprive them of oxygen, douse them with salty brine, boiling alcohol. Radiate them with X-rays. Squish them with hundreds of atmospheres of pressure (6000 according to 'New Scientist', 31 October 1998, p. 26. From here.) Store them in a vacuum. Why not? If the treatment doesn't suit them, they roll themselves up in a little ball and go into stasis, like the colonists in sci-fi novels aboard their inter-galactic ships. A "tun", they call this, like a casket of ale. No ale in this tun, though; just a special sugar that takes the place of water in their cells.

Give them water and air, and they pop right back. From Carleton U., I learned that "Live tardigrades have been regenerated from dried moss kept in a museum for over 100 years!" It has been speculated that they could survive a trip in space.

And the little beastie I found the other day looked so small and fragile, I felt as if (knowing that I was not, but still -- he was so tiny!) I were treating him too roughly as I sucked him up into the eyedropper and dumped him on another plate. Deceptive, as well as tough.

I put him outside in the rain when I was finished with him. After all, he still may have another 80 years or more to live.


Image from Wikipedia.

Other resources: Animal Diversity Web , Carleton U., Microbial Life Educational Resources . Sandra Porter has more. And so does Christopher, as I noted earlier.
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Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Water bear! (repost)


This is a repost from my previous blog, from November, 20006, the first of 2 parts.

"What I really want to find is a water bear," I said this evening to Laurie. He said nothing, just rolled his eyes slightly. He already knows I'm a bit daft.

I had been demonstrating that daftness by describing, excitedly and in detail, the tiny insect I had discovered the day before. Some variety of something like a bristletail, I told him. And then went on to rave about water bears.

I had read about them, and had been looking in soil and soil debris samples off and on since last year, but with no luck.

Sleeping at night is not something I do very much of. I settled down around 11:00 or so to read the blogs until I was sleepy enough. And found this one. Sandra Porter was writing about Tardigrades. Which in common parlance, are water bears. On a rainy Sunday, she had gone out, collected a handful of moss, wet it (more) and squeezed it a bit, put the drippings under the microscope, and found water bears. I was jealous.

Ah, but she had given me a couple of good clues: how to look through the moss, and the size of the beasties. They can be from 1/2 mm to a bit over 1. Big enough to see with the naked eye, if the light is right. The books I have had never given me these important facts.

I didn't even finish reading. I went outside, in the rain and the dark, and collected a handful of moss and lichen. Brought it inside, watered it down, squeezed the drippings out, used an eye-dropper to put them on my usual examining plate (a white plastic lid). Brought out the magnifying lens and the hand microscope -- 40 to 60x -- and a needle for separating tiny fronds and started to search. Nothing. Nothing. More nothing. Moss, lichen, water, some mud. No water bears. I did find two earthworms, too small to be seen with the naked eye, no bigger than the water bears would be. My eyes were burning from the close work under a bright light; I closed them several times to rest them, then woke to find I had been sleeping with my eye propped on the microscope. Ouch!

Well, I had to tidy up and go to bed. I put away the microscope, bent just one more time to survey the straggly moss stems. Something moved. Something tiny and white, maybe about a millimetre long. When I bent over it with the lens, I could see it making its way across an open space between two mosses. It just had to be a water bear! I ran for the microscope, no longer sleepy.

It was a water bear. White. I carefully moved it to a black disposable salad plate from a fast-food joint. Turned the microscope on it again. Aha! Beautiful!

Sandra says they're cute. She's right.

So now, I'm going to bed, satisfied and sleepy again. Tomorrow: more about water bears and why they fascinate me. (Apart from the fact that I'm daft.)

Water bears!


Also known as tardigrades.

No, I didn't find any more.* Sadly.

But Christopher did; go on over to Catalogue of Organisms and see his First Tardigrades.

He says,
"And I have to say - tardigrades are just as adorable as I'd always imagined them to be. If not more so."
Yup.

*I posted about the one I found over on my previous blog. I will repost it here, shortly.
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Thursday, December 07, 2006

Circus of the Spineless # 15!




Great posts, great photos. Dragonfly eyes, insect brainwashing, spiders, slugs, snails, mussels and more: it's all there. Including my own posts on water bears from here and here. Check it out!
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