Science Made Cool

A Buried Childhood: Tree-Style

Trees grow in two ways: they get longer, and they get wider. That doesn’t sound too different from the way an animal grows, but unlike animals, trees only grow longer at their margins. The tip of each stem contains a small cluster of undifferentiated cells called the apical meristem: as these cells divide, the undifferentiated cells are pushed forward and new shoot cells are laid down in their wake. The result?  Older cells in a tree’s stem never change position relative to the ground: the part of a 300 foot redwood tree that’s at eye level now was also at eye level when the tree was only 8 feet tall.

So why aren’t trees tall lanky whips of spaghetti-thin twigs? They have another trick, which lets them grow thicker as trunk and branches push out at their tips: the tissues near the outer surface of the stems called secondary meristem. When these tissues divide, they add layers of cells to the outside of the stem, gradually adding girth to the tree, forming rings of new wood over older tissues, and engulfing older branches over time.

Where animals remodel during growth, plants enclose – so every tree contains the shape of its younger self. 

 

The Hidden Life Within: Giuseppe Penone                              (wood: newer wood removed to reveal older developmental stages)                   Photo by Sphilbrick, via Wikipedia 

Why CT?

OK, so I’ve put some alligators through a CT scanner to create three-dimensional models of their cloacas. How exactly is that going to work? 

A CT scanner is an ordinary X-ray machine on steroids. The basics for both machines are the same: stick an object-to-be-imaged between an X-ray source and an X-ray detector, and measure the number of X-rays that make it through the object. X-rays are a form of light and do all the same things as ordinary visible wavelengths when they interact with the stuff of the world: some materials bend them, some reflect them, some absorb them. But because X-rays are much more energetic than visible light, more materials are transparent to them. Most visible light bounces off our skin, but to an X-ray it’s as clear as a windowpane.

But an animal’s body isn’t completely transparent to X-rays – molecules in the muscle, fat, and bone can absorb or bend some of the light as it passes through. When this happens, fewer X-rays make it to the detector, and these X-ray-deficient shadows form pictures of the stuff inside the animal.

 Your run of the mill X-ray machine takes a picture through a single plane. You’ve no doubt experienced this at the dentist: they stick a detector in your mouth, point a X-ray source at your cheek, and bam! Image of your teeth, roots and all.

 CT scanners work on the same principle, but mount the X-ray source and detector in a ring that rotates around the specimen (or person, or whatever) and take many many more pictures in the process. The pictures are fed into a computer program that performs some mathematics I don’t even pretend to understand (this is the “computed tomography” - “CT” - part) and hands back a stack of images that look like a orderly series of planes cut through the specimen. This is a “Z-stack”, and it looks like this:

 This particular one (from Julio Pereira) is a stack of images through a human head and chest. Even though the image is in shades of gray, you can clearly see different kinds of tissue: brain, bone, muscle, lungs – all thanks to differences in gray value. Lighter tones represent denser tissues, so bones appear white and the air-filled lungs look black. (Scanning through this particular stack, you can also see a spot where some metal dental work scatters the X-rays into starbursts.) 

Importing a Z-stack into specialized image segmentation software makes it possible (again, using some complicated math) to use these grayscale differences to define the surfaces of different tissues throughout the stack and create 3-dimensional models that can be virtually dissected. This fish (scanned and reconstructed by Sarah Faulwetter) is one example: starting with a Z-stack from a CT scan, it's possible to make a model of the surface of the fish that has a model of its skeleton embedded inside it.

How I Started My Summer Vacation

I don’t teach during the UMass Amherst summer session, but that doesn’t mean I get to spend three months sunbathing in my backyard. As soon as I turn in my final grades, the frenzy of experiments begins – basically everything I don’t have time for during the school year (because I’m, y’know, teaching) gets crammed into the weeks between May and September. This year, I spent the end of May in Louisiana, where I met up with one of my collaborators to work on a 3D anatomical atlas of the alligator cloaca.

                    Getting ready for his closeup.

This is part of a larger project examining the evolution and function of archosaur reproductive systems: right now, we want to define how the cloacal muscles, blood vessels, and the phallus are oriented relative to one another. And because it's really challenging to define these relationships by dissection alone, we used a modern imaging technique to try to get a more precise picture of the cloaca in situ. In short, we ran 7-foot long American alligators through a CT scanner. 

Why so big? We needed mature animals, and alligators don't become sexually mature until they're more than 6 feet long. (These animals were actually on the small side for adult males, but we were also limited by the size of the table in the CT scanner!) So we were lucky to have the expert help of both the wildlife biologists at the Rockefeller Wildlife Refuge and the vets and technicians at the LSU School of Veterinary Medicine for this part of the project. I was amused to see how excited the students were to see what we were doing -- vets-in-training kept stopping by the imaging suite to watch us work.

Of course, collecting the data is just the first step: we’ll be analyzing the images and building 3D computer models for months to come. But it was a particularly thrilling first step.