The Plant Press

Chair With A View: April is the Cruelest Month

From Plant Press, Vol. 20, No. 2, April 2017.

By Laurence J. Dorr

If the poet T.S. Eliot wrote The Waste Land today he would have to modify the first verse. What are we to make of this unusual winter? Spring arrived in Washington three weeks earlier than expected, in February rather than March or April. We saw the warning signs of climate change long before this and certainly an article published over 15 years ago by our staff and collaborators (Abu-Asab et al., Biodiversity and Conservation 10: 597-612. 2001) presented the first hard evidence of earlier spring flowering times in the Washington area as a response to global warming. But the signal they detected was 4.6 not 21 days. Record high temperatures are wonderful for those of us who dislike cold and snow, but while 30º Fahrenheit above normal in the heart of winter seems kind, 30º above normal in summer will be very cruel.

Published research by Department of Botany staff and collaborators in 2001 shows a statistically significant advance of spring blooming of Yoshino cherry trees in Washington, DC by 7 days, over a 30-year period from 1970 to 1999. (photo by Gary Krupnick)

Our data set is static now; 31 years of observation made its point. Its assembly was a nice example of community or citizen science; over 125 persons contributed first-flowering dates throughout the years. Nonetheless, it does not take a community to record phenological data. Subsequent to the publication of the Washington-area data, researchers plumbed the unpublished records of the “Hermit of Walden” who made observations of first flowering dates for over 500 species of wildflower in Concord, Massachusetts from 1851 to 1858 (Primack & Miller-Rushing, BioScience 62: 170-180. 2012). Their conclusions were more or less the same. They were able to establish that the plants Thoreau observed in Concord more than 150 years ago are now flowering, on average, ten days earlier than they were when Thoreau “went to the woods”.

The science of phenology may well “date” from the English naturalist Robert Marsham who published Indications of Spring (1789) based on notes that he started in 1736 and continued for more than 60 years. It was not only English gentlemen who recorded their observations of flowering times. Botanists became engaged early, too. I cannot claim to have done a thorough search but I do know that the French botanist Jean Emmanuel Gilibert, who holds the unfortunate distinction of having many of his botanical works officially suppressed by the International Code of Nomenclature for Algae, Fungi, and Plants (2012), recorded flowering dates when he was in Lithuania to teach natural history and medicine and he combined them with similar notes from Lyon, France compiled by Mme. Clémence Lortet (Le calendrier de flore, pour l’année 1778, autour de Grodno, et pour l’ année 1808, autour de Lyon, 1809). If Gilibert had not delayed publication he would have anticipated Marsham. In any case, a systematic search of the botanical literature likely would yield more records that could be analyzed, but I do not think it would change the story. Similarly, now that we are assembling large herbarium datasets I am certain that we can begin to abstract phenological data that will inform us about climate change in the near term and on very local scales.

Surprisingly (to me at least), a generation passes quickly. I have my own 25 years of phenological records for Washington. Nothing is written down but my casual observations represent my own private daybook, my mental notes on what flowers when and what to expect from my garden in each season. Growing up much further north (and not too terribly far from Walden Pond) it took me a long time to accept that my concept of when spring occurred had to change. Here lilacs flower “with the perfume strong I love” well before May (and only now do I understand why Walt Whitman spoke of lilacs blooming in mid-April) and roses do not wait until June. I do not remember when we planted our garden when I was younger or if there was a fixed signal other than perhaps a prediction about the last frost in the Old Farmer’s Almanac. Here I have always struggled with timing. Some years I get it right and others not. If I judge correctly I enjoy the sunflowers, zinnias, and cosmos at the end of the summer. If I get it wrong what have I lost? The price of a few packets of seed. I should be more concerned when data and reason tell me something is wrong about the way I perceive the world. Getting it wrong on a global scale is more costly than a few packets of seed. But what can I (or you) do? We can agitate and speak loudly with our research, or like Candide “il faut cultiver notre jardin”.

Chair With A View: New Year’s Resolutions

From Plant Press, Vol. 20, No. 1, January 2017.

By Laurence J. Dorr

January 1^st is the day we all make our New Year’s Resolutions and I suspect January 2^nd is the day that most of us break them. Whether or not we follow through with our resolve to do better, mid-winter is also a time for reflection. I am no different and while I am generally reluctant to share my personal resolutions (either those still in effect or already abandoned) I am more than happy to share some of my mid-winter reflections especially since I very recently passed something of a milestone; 25 years of service to the Smithsonian Institution. My reflections however also include a confession.

The first time I visited Washington, D.C. I did not visit the Smithsonian. Worse still, I do not think I even knew such a thing existed. One of my aunts was living in the District and about to go overseas so my parents took me and my siblings on a road trip from Boston to Washington. What do I remember? We stayed at a motel in Virginia in what then seemed to me to be the far hinterlands of Arlington. We visited the Lincoln Memorial, which impressed me then and still impresses me now; the apotheosis of Lincoln crucial for our national identity. We visited the yet unfinished Washington National Cathedral and we had a tour of the White House. This last was of course a pilgrimage for anyone born and raised in Boston because John F. Kennedy was president. What else do I remember? My father got a ticket for parking along the National Mall. Some mundane things never change.

The important role the Smithsonian Institution plays in natural history only began to become apparent to me many years later when I started graduate school at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Although I was already keen on plant taxonomy and systematics, my advisor encouraged me to write a thesis focused on pollination ecology. Our department and university lacked systematic entomological expertise so we boxed up the insects that I had collected during my study and sent them off to the National Museum of Natural History to be identified by experts; Smithsonian and U.S Department of Agriculture entomologists. During this same period when I had the occasion over the winter holidays to travel between North Carolina and New England I visited Washington for the second time. This time I completely ignored the monuments, the executive mansion, and the cathedral, and headed straight to what had become for me the most inspiring of all the buildings in our nation’s capital, the National Museum of Natural History.

Not keen on writing an autobiography I will jump forward slightly more than a generation. On my daily commute from beyond the hinterlands in Virginia I pass the Lincoln Memorial, the Washington Monument, and the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial. I see the White House in the distance and the Jefferson Memorial. I drive the length of the National Mall (assiduously avoiding parking alongside it) and I see the National Gallery of Art and the Capitol Building as I walk from the National Air and Space Museum across the Mall to the Natural History building. I feel very privileged for many reasons and I know that all of us who work here feel equally privileged.

What are the New Year’s resolutions that I was reluctant to share? I continue to be resolved to help improve our department and the museum, and I am committed to making the U.S. National Herbarium the finest national herbarium in the world. Ironically for me, I better understand now President Kennedy’s exhortation “ask not what our country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country” and I hope his words also resonate with you. Even though I began this brief essay ambivalent about revealing my most significant and personal New Year’s resolution I will: I am resolved to be optimistic.

Presidential Politics

From Plant Press, Vol. 19, No. 4, October 2016.

By Laurence J. Dorr

With presidential politics dominating the news I began to wonder whether or not a president had ever visited the U.S. National Herbarium. Sitting presidents have visited the National Museum of Natural History but as best I can tell none has ever toured Botany. I cannot remember any presidential candidate visiting the museum which is a shame because certainly the museum and herbarium would make a great “photo op” if one wanted to address compelling environmental issues such as biodiversity, extinction, climate change, etc. We have had high ranking officials appointed by the president visit Botany. I remember one sitting cabinet member visiting the herbarium and I know that one retired Supreme Court justice has been given a tour. My complaint about lack of attention from the president or presidential candidates is not an argument that the U.S. National Herbarium lacks connections to the presidency. We in fact have several interesting connections.

Onagraceae is one of the plant families recently digitized as part of our “conveyor belt” project (see The Plant Press 19(1): 1, 13-15. 2016) and when the label transcriptions were reviewed I was reminded that we have a specimen (US01361622) of fireweed (Chamaenerion angustifolium (L.) Scop.) collected by President Chester A. Arthur in Yellowstone National Park in 1883. The label is typewritten and probably not original. The specimen does have a separate printed annotation that certainly is original. It states simply “Executive Mansion, Washington.” Arthur was suffering from nephritis and the trip to Yellowstone was intended to improve his health. Firewood in bloom would catch anyone’s attention but why President Arthur, who had no particular interest in Botany or natural history, would collect just one herbarium specimen and donate it to the Smithsonian is beyond me. His time away from Washington may have given him a respite but his health did not improve and Arthur died in 1885 after completing his sole term in office. It appears that this Yellowstone fireweed is the only herbarium specimen that we have collected by a sitting American president.

Chair With A View: Taking Stock

From Plant Press, Vol. 19, No. 3, July 2016.

It has been an eventful year. Last summer when it became apparent that I would likely become Chair of the Department of Botany I realized that among many other things I would have to organize and orchestrate a spring symposium. A number of ideas floated through my head and suppressing panic, the strongest of all the ideas, I decided that a symposium on pollination biology might be interesting. I had dabbled with the subject early in my career and I knew that even though pollination biology per se is not a focus of research done here in the Museum, a symposium on this topic could easily underscore the valuable systematic and phylogenetic research done by our Botany and Entomology Departments and inform some of our research on the evolution of plants and insects. When I pitched the idea to Susan Pell of the U.S. Botanic Garden, our partner in this enterprise, she agreed and as they say the rest is history. Of course, a good number of Botany staff worked very hard to make this happen and I think we all should be very pleased with the result: an intellectually stimulating day with one of the largest registrations yet for our symposium series.

Specimens from the United States National Herbarium are placed on a conveyer belt for rapid digitization. (photo by Ingrid Lin)

Another inherited project, which was planned before but inaugurated after I became Chair, is our digitization conveyor project (see The Plant Press 19(2): 6, 7. 2016). The scale of the accomplishments here in the last ten months is phenomenal. As of last week, 566,824 herbarium specimens have been digitized, their label data have been or are now being transcribed, and the specimen images and information will soon be fully searchable on our website. This is currently the largest herbarium digitization project in the Western Hemisphere and to put the scale of what has been accomplished into perspective, I need only add that the average size of the 3,200 institutional herbaria in the world is a modest 100,000 specimens! As with the symposium, this project also is a partnership. The Digitization Program Office (DPO) of the Smithsonian Institution has been a driving force, our principal benefactor, and the administrative contact with Picturae, the Dutch company that owns and runs the conveyor belt and that subcontracts the transcriptions being done in Suriname. The very hard work in getting us to this point has been that of not only the contractors employed by Picturae, but also Botany and Museum staff and contractors who planned the project, prepared the specimens for digitization, verified the transcriptions, and who are now importing the data into our collections database.

Bamboo specimens sit in swing space as they await their move to new metal herbarium cases. (photo by Amanda Grusz)

The past year has also seen a transformation in the U.S. National Herbarium, which although far from complete, augers well for the future. The new cases designed to house our bulky bamboo collections (see The Plant Press 19(2): 8. 2016) have been installed and the specimens transferred from the old cases to the new. We are poised as well to order new cases for the ferns and for an area currently used as our specimen sorting center and these will be in place before the end of the year. The sorting center will be relocated and this will provide room for us to expand the Asteraceae. The new cabinetry was purchased with monies awarded by the Smithsonian’s Collections Care and Preservation Fund (CCPF) for which we are extremely grateful. A separate CCPF grant is helping us to process a large backlog of grass specimens that will free up space and generate a significant amount of exchange material. A separate, moderately controversial change was the reintegration of the D.C. (District of Columbia) Herbarium into the main collection. Space and the need to focus staff resources on other matters drove this decision. In addition, we also came to the conclusion that the most efficient organization of the U.S. National Herbarium is to have the least number of separate collections possible.

Having taken stock of a few of our major activities where do we go now? There will be another Smithsonian Botanical Symposium in May 2017 and we have initiated a discussion with the U.S. Botanic Garden about the theme. We are continuing the digitization of the herbarium and are beginning to think about how we can use very large data sets to address and answer questions with herbarium specimens that we could not imagine doing before. We are reorganizing the phanerogamic portion of the herbarium as a prelude to converting our filing scheme to a modern one that better reflects our understanding of phylogeny. Finally, you might ask why these things matter. They matter because we are trying to support and improve our research on the systematics and evolution of plants, fungi (i.e., lichens), and algae.

Aphorisms for the Field Botanist, with Apologies to Linnaeus (and Poor Richard)

From Plant Press, Vol. 19, No. 2, April 2016.

By Laurence J. Dorr

Continuing what I hope is a temporary transition, or detail in government speak, from field and herbarium botanist to manager, I find myself occasionally reflecting on what I learned earlier in my career, which I now realize with nostalgia and regret involved considerably more time outdoors than it does now. When I catch myself daydreaming I am surprised that I do not spend as much of my reverie thinking about science per se but rather more esoteric things related to science, especially those things that one tends not to write down. Scientific ideas and insights sooner or later get folded into published articles and books, and some of the knowledge I have gained about certain plants is best conveyed via annotations on specimens. Impressions of fellow botanists or insights into how one manages to overcome obstacles while traveling and in the field tend, however, to be conveyed in conversation. More often than not these glimpses into the secret life of Botanists are only shared among our fraternity and only after pouring a libation or two.

A few of the lessons I have learned can be distilled as maxims or aphorisms for the field botanist. I have struggled to grasp the distinction between these two words: both maxims and aphorisms generally are considered to be short pithy statements conveying some general truth. Examples of the former are well-known and include such famous maxims as Poor Richard’s “a penny saved is a penny earned” (actually “a penny saved is two pence clear”). The definition of aphorism scarcely differs except that a secondary dictionary definition suggests that unlike a maxim an aphorism can also be a concise statement of a scientific principle, especially by an ancient classical author. Interestingly, Botany has a long tradition of aphorisms.

Seduced by an Herbarium

From Plant Press, Vol. 19, No. 1, January 2016.

By Laurence J. Dorr

When I interviewed for my position as Curator of Botany here at the NMNH the director asked me why I became a botanist. Fair enough. This is the standard sort of question one asks potential hires and I have resorted to similar queries when the tables were turned. I vaguely recall answering him in the way one does in these situations. I gave him the safe answer: I described how I roamed the woods outside Boston where I grew up, hunted for different plants and animals, and enjoyed learning their names and behaviors. Eventually and mercifully he cut me off and asked me something else. In retrospect, I now think that I should have given him the honest answer: I was seduced by an herbarium.

How did this happen? Serendipity was involved. I opted to pursue my undergraduate studies at Washington University in St. Louis. I was interested in English and comparative literature and Stanley Elkin, the novelist, was my first advisor. He was gruff, impatient, intimidating, and not all that helpful as a mentor, but I stayed the course. I read English and French literature and for no particular reason I fulfilled my science credits by taking geology classes. On a whim I enrolled in a spring wildflower class and in retrospect realize that it was then that I began to hear the siren song of Botany. Walter Lewis was the instructor and in addition to learning about his passion, spring beauties (Claytonia virginica) and their complicated cytology, I was introduced to floras, keys, taxonomy, systematics, and the concept of herbarium specimens and herbaria. There was something very attractive about botany and slowly I became torn between art and science. Presented with such a dilemma what does the typical undergraduate do? He (or she) takes time off to contemplate the conundrum. I was no different.

Chair With A View: Transitions

From Plant Press, Vol. 18, No. 4, October 2015.

By Laurence J. Dorr

To be perfectly frank I have mixed feelings about becoming Chair of Botany. It is clearly an honor to be entrusted with this position but it comes with a price. My personal scientific ambitions will have to be subordinated to the needs of the Department, the Museum, and the Institution. In those fleeting moments when I am being honest with myself, I will have to admit that I will never finish all of the research projects I contemplated or even a number of those that I initiated. This might have been the case regardless of whether or not I became Chair, but now I can delude myself and blame my new administrative responsibilities for my failure to realize all of my dreams. My tendency to complain (well known to my fellow curators) also will have to be severely curtailed. The reason for this should be obvious: I am not fond of criticizing myself. I will however accept responsibility for my decisions and I trust that most of them will be reasonable and fair.

Laurence Dorr began his first week as Chair of the Botany Department while on vacation in Egypt and Turkey. (photo by Lisa Barnett)

The transition to becoming Chair was interesting. Technically, the baton was passed on October 1, 2015, but anyone watching this race would have seen the former and present Chair running side by side for a good amount of time before then. In fact, I think we are still running side by side. Shortly before I officially took the helm, I felt as if a tidal wave had washed over me, but I appear to have survived. I never realized the extent of the email traffic the Chair receives nor could I have imagined the number of meetings one is required to attend. My first official act (a very wise one) was to go on annual leave but even while I was on vacation in Egypt and Turkey, I found myself reading email each day at breakfast and trying to respond to those messages that demanded my attention. If I had not done this, this column would not have been written by the deadline. I would also still be sorting through two weeks of accumulated emails.

One of the nice things about becoming the Chair of Botany is that it is liberating. By that I mean I feel free to approach other department and unit heads in the Museum (and elsewhere) and ask them how we in Botany can find common ground to improve our science, collections, and exhibits. I have worked at the Smithsonian for almost 25 years and I thought I had a good understanding of our Department, the Museum, and the Institution. I now realize that I do not. I am learning new things every day and I find this exciting and challenging.

During my tenure as Chair I intend to work hard and I expect all members of this Department to work just as hard. I am committed to helping all of you succeed with your research. We are very privileged to be working in this Museum and Institution and with privilege comes obligation. We are obligated to do the best that we can with the resources we are given. I know we need more money, more space, and more help, but placed in a global perspective our current resources are quite generous. I intend to have fun while helping improve our research and collections and I hope all of you will have fun, too. My ultimate goal as Chair is simple: I hope to help make a very good Department even better.

Laurence Dorr conducting field work in Guaramacal, Venezuela.

Visiting Scientists Have a Sight for Sori

From Plant Press, Vol. 18, No. 3, July 2015.

By Eric Schuettpelz and Warren L. Wagner

This year’s Smithsonian Botanical Symposium was unique in its focus on a particular taxonomic group (pteridophytes), as well as in its duration (spanning an entire week). “Next Generation Pteridology” (see profile here) focused entirely on the biology of ferns and lycophytes. The first day was filled with a broad spectrum of accessible presentations typical of our annual Smithsonian Botanical Symposium and the remainder of the week featured a series of focused colloquia, contributed talks, and workshops. In all, the scientific program included 127 presentations and brought together well over 200 individuals representing 29 countries. But the event had effects well beyond the communication of science. Without a doubt, “Next Generation Pteridology” had a profound influence in building connections to the Smithsonian and strengthening collaborations within the pteridological community. Additionally, the presence of so many of the world’s experts under one roof had a significant impact on our collection.

Visiting botanists overtake the pteridophyte herbarium at the National Museum of Natural History, where they conducted research, annotated specimens, and uncovered types, leading to tremendous benefits to the collections.

In the days leading up to and following “Next Generation Pteridology,” and during the event itself, the pteridophyte herbarium saw nearly 50 visitors (see list of visitors beginning on page 2 of the newsletter). Many of these visitors spent several days conducting research in the collection, and the great influx of experts resulted in some extensive curation of our specimens. In all, more than 500 specimens were annotated and about a dozen types were uncovered and moved to the type herbarium. Perhaps most notable was the discovery (by Barbara Parris, from the Fern Research Foundation, New Zealand) of an isotype of Xiphopteris exilis Parris, a species that at the time of its publication was known only from the type collection. It was truly wonderful to see so many researchers working in the pteridophyte herbarium advancing their own projects, while simultaneously improving the value of our specimens and helping us to fine tune our collection for the upcoming digitization.

Completing the Marquesas Islands Flora

From Plant Press, Vol. 18, No. 2, April 2015.

By Warren Wagner

The Department of Botany has a long history of foundational biodiversity research. One major way the Department has contributed is through long-term projects to produce floristic analyses for local or regional areas that are intensively explored and documented. These projects have led to an increase in herbarium specimens, DNA samples, images, and community level data, including conservation assessments. For example, the Biological Diversity of the Guiana Shield project has been actively collecting and contributing to research to document, understand, and conserve the biological diversity of the northern part of South America since 1983. On a more local scale the Flora de Guaramacal (Venezuela) project has focused on providing a comprehensive assessment of the plants of Guaramacal National Park. The first volume of the flora, published last year by Laurence Dorr, represents a major publication that will have a broad impact in the northern Andes. Another area of long-held interest is the Caribbean. Pedro Acevedo has taken a major step towards a modern understanding of the regional flora with the publication of Catalogue of Seed Plants of the West Indies (Acevedo-Rodríguez & Strong, 2012). This monumental work treats 12,279 angiosperm taxa and is an impressive effort to document this rich flora with 71% endemism. We also continue to provide an up-to-date taxonomy and database of specimen records for the DC flora, based on the work of Stan Shetler and Sylvia Orli.

Heliotropium perlmanii Lorence & W.L. Wagner

Smithsonian research in the South Pacific dates back to the U.S. Exploring Expedition, which formed the beginnings of the herbarium in 1846. Some of the most important work was completed by Al Smith on the Fiji Islands, and Ray Fosberg and Marie-Hélène Sachet on the Hawaiian Islands, French Polynesia and Micronesia. In 1988 I initiated a collaboration with David Lorence from the National Tropical Botanical Garden (NTBG). Together we decided a compelling project would be to complete a flora of the Marquesas, building on the previous work of Fosberg and Sachet, and as an extension of the recently completed Manual of the Flowering Plants of Hawai`i. The first collecting expedition in 1988 included staff from NTBG, Bishop Museum, the Smithsonian Institution, and the French research organization ORSTOM. During the past 20 years, the project conducted six expeditions to collect throughout the islands, targeting poorly explored islands as well as poorly explored regions on various islands, making 3500 new collections*. These were added to the complete Marquesas database with about 11,000 collections of native, naturalized, and cultivated vascular species across a relatively small flora with about 333 native species.

During the course of the current project (since 1988), 56 species new to science have been described primarily by David Lorence, Warren Wagner, and Jacques Florence.  Before that, 18 new species were contributed by Fosberg and Sachet, through an expedition by Sachet and Royce Oliver in 1975, the PhD. thesis work of Bryce Decker in mid-1960s, and another 11 by Jacques Florence for the French project to produce Flore de la Polynesie Francaise prior to collaborating with our project. Of these, Oxalis gagneorum Fosberg & Sachet (back page of this printed issue of The Plant Press) was one of the 18 Marquesan species they described and was among the early illustrations Alice Tangerini made for Fosberg & Sachet. Heliotropium perlmanii Lorence & W.L. Wagner (above) is the 85^th new species of the project published last month in Phytokeys. The most recent species published, it is actually one of the first collections made in 1988 by Steve Perlman on the sea cliffs of the most remote and oldest island of the archeipelago, Eiao. These new species, almost all of which are considered endangered because they are local endemics restricted to narrow areas usually on a single island, have increased the known native flora by 25% and are described in over 30 publications by Lorence, Wagner, Fosberg, Sachet, and Florence along with a few with other collaborators. About one half of these were published in two special issues: Allertonia (vol. 7, 1997) and Phytokeys (vol. 4, 2011).

In addition to these regional taxonomic revisions of the genera and addition of new species, the overall project had several goals: to increase scientific interaction among cooperating institutions for further exploration and research within the islands; database specimens and literature; develop a web-based vascular flora; produce the first Vascular Flora of the Marquesas Islands; and provide a framework for preserving the biodiversity of the islands. Now entering its 27^th year, the project is moving towards completion and anticipates the publication of a comprehensive flora in the near future.

*EDITOR’S NOTE: The text that appears here differs from the text that appeared in the mailed printed issue of the newsletter. The number of collections and the number of taxa presented here are a more reasonable reflection of the Marquesas Flora project.

Valuing Collections

From Plant Press, Vol. 18, No. 1, January 2015.

By W. John Kress

This year brought dismal news about the world's birds: They are vanishing at an alarming rate. Across 25 European countries, about 420 million fewer birds are present today than in 1980, a 20% decrease, especially in the 36 most common species. In North America, The State of the Birds Report 2014 indicates that over the past 40 years, the numbers of individuals across 33 species are also down by hundreds of millions. Such assessments highlight the urgency of determining the precise causes of these declines. The knowledge gleaned from the Avian Phylogenomics Project, coupled with ecological and population analyses, should provide new insights into the factors that influence bird declines and extinctions. As the project progresses over the next few years, over 60% of tissue samples for the avian analyses will be derived from archived museum collections. In this era of deteriorating natural environments, a pressing challenge is to continue to build scientific collections for future needs.

Museum collections, and the species they represent, provide windows into the past, inform about the present, and help predict the future of natural habitats and human-altered environments. They are the common language of the biological sciences. An antiquated view of collections suggests drawers of bird skins, empty shells, and dried plants. However, current collections also include living specimens, spirit-preserved samples, deep-frozen tissues, and DNA. These irreplaceable biomaterials are invaluable representatives of Earth's biodiversity, and together with their associated metadata are archived ex situ for long-term documentation, public education and exhibition, and scientific and applied research. Although the exact number of collections maintained in museums, botanic gardens, and universities is unknown, estimates as high as three billion specimens suggest the magnitude of this storehouse of information about the natural world.