Latest news with #SwedishUniversityofAgriculturalSciences
RTÉ News
23-05-2025
- Science
- RTÉ News
Here's why soil smells so good after it rains
Analysis: The smell called petrichor is a reminder of the fascinating and extremely valuable bacteria that thrive in the ground beneath your feet By Klas Flärdh, Lund University and Paul Becher, Swedish University of Agricultural Sciences Did you ever wonder what causes that earthy smell that rises after a light summer rain? That mysterious scent has been called " petrichor", and a main component of it is an organic compound called geosmin, which lingers around moist soil. Geosmin comes from the ancient Greek "geo", meaning earth, and "osme", meaning smell. We use this scent as an ingredient in perfumes and it is what gives beetroot its earthy flavour. Geosmin can also be perceived as an "off" flavour in water and wine. Animals can detect geosmin. Fruit flies, for example, dislike geosmin and they avoid anything that smells of it, possibly to avoid contaminated and potentially toxic food. But why is geosmin made in the soil? As part of a team of scientists from Sweden, the UK and Hungary, we discovered the fascinating biology behind this enigmatic compound. Smells like (microbial) team spirit Scientists have known since the 1960s that geosmin is made by microorganisms in the soil, primarily by bacteria with the scientific name Streptomyces. These bacteria are abundant in soil and are among nature´s best chemists, as they make a wide range of molecules (called specialised metabolites) from which many antibiotics derive. Streptomycetes and their close relatives make thousands of different specialised metabolites – a true treasure trove for the potential discovery of new antibiotics. It turns out that all streptomycetes have the gene for making geosmin, suggesting that it has an important function. But what do these bacteria gain from producing geosmin? This has been a longstanding mystery. In our recent study, we found that geosmin is part of the chemical language in a mutually beneficial relationship between Streptomyces bacteria and springtails, insect-like organisms that are abundant in the ground. We discovered this by asking if there could be soil organisms out there that would be attracted to the smell of Streptomyces. We baited traps with colonies of Streptomyces coelicolor and placed them in a field. Our traps captured several types of soil organisms, including spiders and mites. But strikingly, it was springtails that showed a particular preference for the traps baited with geosmin-producing Streptomyces. Using a particular species of springtail, Folsomia candida, we tested how these creatures sense and react to geosmin. We placed electrodes on their tiny antennae (the average body size of springtail is about 2mm) and detected which smells stimulated them. Geosmin and the related earthy odorant 2-methylisoborneol were sensed by the antennae, which is essentially the creature's nose. By studying springtails walking in Y-shaped glass tubes, we saw they had a strong preference for the arm that smelled of these earthy compounds. The benefit for the animals seems to be that the odours lead them to a source of food. While geosmin-emitting microbes are often toxic to other organisms which avoid them, we found that it did no harm to the springtails we tested. But how does producing these compounds benefit the bacteria? Streptomycetes normally grow as mycelium – a network of long, branching cells that entwine with the soil they grow in. When they run out of nutrients or conditions in the soil deteriorate, the bacteria escape and spread to new places by making spores that can be spread by wind or water. Our new finding is that spore production also includes the release of those earthy odorants that are attractive to springtails – and that helps spread the spores by another route. As the springtails grazed on a Streptomyces colony, we saw spores sticking to their cuticle (the outer surface of the animal). Springtails have a special anti-adhesive and water-repellent surface that bacteria typically don't stick to, but Streptomyces spores can adhere, probably because they have their own water-repellent surface layer. Spores eaten by the springtails can also survive and be excreted in faecal pellets. So, springtails help spread Streptomyces spores as they travel through the soil, in much the same way pollinating bees are lured to visit flowers and take with them the pollen grains that adhere to their bodies and fertilise the other plants they visit. Birds eat attractive berries or fruits and help the plant to spread its seeds with their droppings. Next time you encounter that earthy smell, let it be a reminder of the fascinating and extremely valuable bacteria that thrive in the ground beneath your feet. You might be listening in on an ancient type of communication between bacteria and the creatures that live with them in the soil.
Perth Now
05-05-2025
- Science
- Perth Now
Urine being used to make eco-friendly beer
Urine is being used to make eco-friendly beer. Researchers at the Swedish University of Agricultural Sciences (SLU) collected 20,000 litres of the watery fluid from portaloos set up for the Walpurgis Night celebrations - an annual Christian event celebrated on April 30 and the night of May 1. The gallons of urine were taken to SLU, where 95 per cent of the water was removed so it could be turned into a concentrate before a research firm converts it into a fertiliser that can be used on 1.5 hectares of arable land. And in 2027, beer lovers will be able to drink the beer made from the malting barley grown on the land fertilised with the Walpurgis Night celebrations attendees' urine. Björn Vinnerås, professor of cycle technology at the Swedish University of Agricultural Sciences, said: "The urine we collected a year ago was used three weeks ago, on a field on Gotland where malting barley is grown. "This corresponds to approximately three football fields, which is not much from an agricultural perspective, but it's a start."
Boston Globe
17-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Boston Globe
The ‘Great Moose Migration' livestream captivates Sweden
'I didn't really think it would hit,' said Arne Nilsson, 54, speaking of when it started in 2019. 'I thought it would be ridiculous,' he added. Nilsson, who grew up in the Swedish woods, was wrong. Now, he will devote six hours a day to moderating a Facebook group of more than 77,000 fans, many of whom will spend the next three weeks watching moose on SVT, Sweden's national broadcaster. (The group's name is self-explanatory: 'Vi som gillar den stora algvandringen pa SVT!' or 'We who like the great moose migration on SVT!') Unlike many other nature programs, which may have music and narration, the moose march broadcast is raw. It is also live. The only 'edits' are cuts between the 34 cameras along the migration path. Advertisement That's the draw, Nilsson said: The moose do not know they are being watched. They certainly do not know they are being watched by zealots live-blogging their minute-by-minute joy of watching the migration. 'This isn't staged,' he said. 'This isn't cut together. This is reality TV at its finest.' About 300,000 moose (yes, that's the plural of moose) live in Sweden, said Goran Ericsson, who leads the moose research group at the Swedish University of Agricultural Sciences. The 100 or so that may appear on the livestream are traveling on a path their ancestors have followed since the ice age. Advertisement Last year, millions of people watched the livestream, said Johan Erhag, executive producer. And the fans are downright obsessed. 'Some people are fanatics,' said Lasse Nasstrom, 59, a member of the Facebook group, who streams it on one of his three monitors while he works on the others. 'I don't believe some of them sleep during those weeks.' Some people, like Lillemor Elfgren, start their days by checking for updates. Elfgren, 43, lives in Vannasby, in northeast Sweden, and gets a notification whenever there's any real action. 'Has anything interesting happened?' she said. 'Is someone about to swim?' This is hardly the only animal livestream to delight humans. There's 'Planet Earth,' of course, and the Dutch 'fish doorbell,' where fans help the fish migration. Some friends count down the final seconds at the end of the year to the clock on a watering hole in the Namibian desert. (There's even a cheese cam, for people who want to watch wheels of cheddar age in real time.) In Sweden, even when no moose are visible (which happens more often than one might expect from a moose livestream), the woods stun and awe. Rivers flow against snowy banks. Light scythes through sun-dappled groves. Swans glide, white and wild. These are like Tarkovsky vistas, set to the sound of birds and wind. 'I want it to be like a living painting on the wall,' Stefan Edlund, the program's producer, said while sitting next to Ericsson as a wall of moose feeds blinked on screens behind them. Advertisement Edlund was inspired by similar 'slow television' streams from Norway, a center of the tranquil Nordic style. He said he ignored advice to include flashy graphics or use a human presenter. The purity of the woods was the point. Their cameras will film the moose, undisturbed, until May 4, when the feed is scheduled to end. That is, of course, if they can locate moose to film. 'It's a bit of a sport to find them,' he said. So he and his team make it into a game, at least at the command center. They scour the feeds, turning the screens into a 'Where's Waldo' of the Cervidae family. Could that be one? Or that? They're keeping a tally on a yellow paper, with a moose-to-stone spotting ratio. As of noon Tuesday, stones were in the lead. 'They are also called 'near-moose experiences,'' quipped Ericsson. 'It's a bit of fun,' Edlund added, shrugging as he looked at the screens. 'Keeps you awake.' For fans, the feed is both an oasis and a mirage. They sit gazing at Sweden's forests and rivers, posting their delight online in unison. Marianne Hauger, 49, turns it on while at home on Trundon, a small island in northeast Sweden. She loves moose, of course. But the conversation is the real draw. 'When you're in this chat you forget that there are bad things in the world,' she said. And, she said, there's always a letdown when it ends each year. 'It felt so empty,' she said, adding, 'Thankfully, it's in the middle of May so you have summer to look forward to.' This article originally appeared in Advertisement
BBC News
16-04-2025
- BBC News
Sweden's Great Moose Migration: Millions watch 24-hour rolling livestream
Every spring for the past six years, millions of people tune in to a round-the-clock livestream of moose on the move in northern Sweden."The Great Moose Migration" tracks the animals as they swim across the Angerman River and make their annual journey toward greener, summer year's 24-hour programme from SVT Play, the streaming platform for Sweden's national broadcaster, began on Tuesday - a week ahead of schedule because of the warmer weather this broadcast has become a "slow TV" phenomenon, cultivating a loyal fanbase since its inception in 2019. Cait Borjesson, 60, who has been hooked to the annual livestream since she stumbled upon it during the Covid-19 pandemic, said her TV had been on for 16 straight hours since it began on Tuesday."It's unbelievably relaxing," she said. "There's the natural sounds of the birds, the wind, the trees. It gives you a sense that you're in nature even if you're not". For Cait, watching the migration has become a yearly tradition, so much so that she books time off work to fully immerse herself in the three-week said the stream was "like therapy" which had helped her anxiety and panic she is not alone. SVT's livestream has a wide audience, including a Facebook group boasting more than 77,000 members who come together to share their memorable moments, emotional reactions to the broadcast and their shared fascination of the migration.A major part of their journey captured by SVT is through the village of Kullberg in northern Sweden, next to the Ericsson, dean of the faculty of forest sciences at the Swedish University of Agricultural Sciences and science advisor for the broadcast, said the moose migrate back to the summer ranges after aggregating in spots with better temperatures in the winter."Historically, this migration has been going on since the ice age," he said. "During spring and summer, moose are more evenly spread out in the landscape."He added that around 95% of the moose in northern Sweden migrate annually, adding that early migrations were not new with this year's prompted by less snow on the ground. "Early springs happen occasionally," he said. "We're still within the normal range of variation."More than 30 cameras are used to capture the moose as they move through the vast landscapes, he show drew in nearly a million people during its launch in 2019, before garnering nine million viewers in Truong, a researcher at the Swedish University of Agricultural Sciences who has surveyed viewers of the livestream, said in a fast-paced media environment, people enjoy experiencing nature through this "slow TV" style - a genre characterised by long, un-edited and real-time broadcasts."A lot of people say it's like an open window to a forest," he says. "When you ask them if they would prefer having music in the background, or commentary, they say they prefer just having the sound of the wind, the birds and trees."Sweden's woodlands are home to about 300,000 moose. The animal is known in the Scandinavian country as "King of the Forest".
New York Times
15-04-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
The ‘Great Moose Migration' Livestream Captivates Sweden
Who would spend hours a day watching moose trudge through northern Sweden on their annual spring migration? Lots of people, it turns out. In fact, 'The Great Moose Migration,' an annual Swedish livestream that began on Tuesday, may soon dethrone the opening credits of 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail' as humanity's greatest artistic tribute to the Swedish moose. Perhaps the power transfer is already over. 'I didn't really think it would hit,' said Arne Nilsson, 54, speaking of when it started in 2019. 'I thought it would be ridiculous,' he added. Mr. Nilsson, who grew up in the Swedish woods, was wrong. Now, he will devote six hours a day to moderating a Facebook group of over 77,000 fans, many of whom will spend the next three weeks watching moose on SVT, Sweden's national broadcaster. (The group's name is self-explanatory: 'Vi som gillar den stora algvandringen pa SVT!' or 'We who like the great moose migration on SVT!') Unlike many other nature programs, which may have music and narration, the moose march broadcast is raw. It is also live. The only 'edits' are cuts between the 34 cameras along the migration path. That's the draw, Mr. Nilsson said: The moose do not know they are being watched. They certainly do not know they are being watched by zealots live-blogging their minute-by-minute joy of watching the migration. 'This isn't staged,' he said. 'This isn't cut together. This is reality TV at its finest.' About 300,000 moose (yes, that's the plural of moose) live in Sweden, said Goran Ericsson, who leads the moose research group at the Swedish University of Agricultural Sciences. The 100 or so that may appear on the livestream are traveling on a path their ancestors have followed since the ice age. Last year, millions of people watched the livestream, said Johan Erhag, the executive producer. And the fans are downright obsessed. 'Some people are fanatics,' said Lasse Nasstrom, 59, a member of the Facebook group, who streams it on one of his three monitors while he works on the others. 'I don't believe some of them sleep during those weeks.' Some people, like Lillemor Elfgren, start their days by checking for updates. Ms. Elfgren, 43, lives in Vannasby, in northeast Sweden, and gets a notification whenever there's any real action. 'Has anything interesting happened?' she said. 'Is someone about to swim?' This is hardly the only animal livestream to delight humans. There's 'Planet Earth,' of course, and the Dutch 'fish doorbell,' where fans help the fish migration. Some friends count down the final seconds at the end of the year to the clock on a watering hole in the Namibian desert. (There's even a cheese cam, for people who want to watch wheels of Cheddar age in real time.) In Sweden, even when no moose are visible (which happens more often than one might expect from a moose livestream), the woods stun and awe. Rivers flow against snowy banks. Light scythes through sun-dappled groves. Swans glide, white and wild. These are like Tarkovsky vistas, set to the sound of birds and wind. 'I want it to be like a living painting on the wall,' Stefan Edlund, the program's producer, said while sitting next to Dr. Ericsson as a wall of moose feeds blinked on screens behind them. Mr. Edlund was inspired by similar 'slow television' streams from Norway, a center of the tranquil Nordic style. He said he ignored advice to include flashy graphics or use a human presenter. The purity of the woods was the point. Their cameras will film the moose, undisturbed, until May 4, when the feed is scheduled to end. That is, of course, if they can locate moose to film. 'It's a bit of a sport to find them,' he said. So he and his team make it into a game, at least at the command center. They scour the feeds, turning the screens into a 'Where's Waldo' of the Cervidae family. Could that be one? Or that? They're keeping a tally on a yellow paper, with a moose-to-stone spotting ratio. As of noon on Tuesday, stones were in the lead. 'They are also called 'near-moose experiences,'' quipped Dr. Ericsson, the moose expert. 'It's a bit of fun,' Mr. Edlund added, shrugging as he looked at the screens. 'Keeps you awake.' For fans, the feed is both an oasis and a mirage. They sit gazing at Sweden's forests and rivers, posting their delight online in unison. Marianne Hauger, 49, turns it on while at home on Trundon, a small island in northeast Sweden. She loves moose, of course. But the conversation is the real draw. 'When you're in this chat you forget that there are bad things in the world,' she said. And, she said, there's always a letdown when it ends each year. 'It felt so empty,' she said, adding, 'Thankfully, it's in the middle of May so you have summer to look forward to.'
