Weird Science

Sensitive Plant

Polish ver­sion is here

The fol­lo­wing article was ori­gi­nally publi­shed in the jour­nal for edu­ca­tors Bio­lo­gia w Szkole (eng. Bio­logy in School) (6/2015):

Ilustracja

Ples M., Wsty­dliwa roślina (eng. Sen­si­tive Plant), Bio­lo­gia w Szkole (eng. Bio­logy in school), 6 (2015), Forum Media Pol­ska Sp. z o.o., pp. 52-56

Ani­mals and plants - are they really all that dif­fe­rent?

There’s no que­stion that plants play a vital role in susta­i­ning life on Earth. In fact, pho­to­syn­the­tic orga­ni­sms, inc­lu­ding plants, form the very foun­da­tion of life as we know it. Think about it for a moment: where does all the energy used by living things actu­ally come from? Phy­sics tells us that energy can­not sim­ply appear out of nowhere or disap­pear without a trace; it can only change from one form to ano­ther. When you think about it, it beco­mes clear that nearly all the energy used by living orga­ni­sms ori­gi­na­tes from the Sun, our life-giving star. The only excep­tions are a few pri­mi­tive che­mo­tro­phic bac­te­ria that obtain energy by oxi­di­zing cer­tain inor­ga­nic com­po­unds or methane [1]. All the energy that susta­ins humans, ani­mals, and most other life forms was once pro­du­ced inside the Sun thro­ugh nuc­lear reac­tions. It tra­ve­led to Earth as elec­tro­ma­gne­tic radia­tion of various wave­leng­ths and was later cap­tu­red and conver­ted by plants into che­mi­cal energy. Only in this form does it become usa­ble for most orga­ni­sms other than plants. In recent years, scien­ti­sts have disco­ve­red a few remar­ka­ble excep­tions to this rule. One of them is the sea slug Ely­sia chlo­ro­tica, which can, for part of its life, live pho­to­au­to­tro­phi­cally by using chlo­ro­pla­sts obta­i­ned from algae to carry out pho­to­syn­the­sis [2].

For the most part, ani­mals lack any mecha­nism that allows them to cap­ture energy direc­tly from sun­li­ght. It is the­re­fore quite sur­pri­sing that, in popu­lar opi­nion, plants are often vie­wed as sim­pler or more pri­mi­tive orga­ni­sms than ani­mals. In my view, this miscon­cep­tion ari­ses from a limi­ted under­stan­ding of the very dif­fe­rent evo­lu­tio­nary stra­te­gies that ani­mals and plants have deve­lo­ped.

There are, without a doubt, many dif­fe­ren­ces between ani­mals and plants. They dif­fer in meta­bo­lism, in the struc­ture of their cells, tis­sues, and organs, as well as in the ways they inte­ract with other orga­ni­sms and with their envi­ron­ment. Despite these dif­fe­ren­ces, both gro­ups share fun­da­men­tal bio­lo­gi­cal prin­ci­ples that reflect their com­mon evo­lu­tio­nary ori­gins.

One of the most stri­king dif­fe­ren­ces is the abi­lity of ani­mals to move, a fea­ture that plants appear to lack. Yet that is not enti­rely true. While it is cor­rect that, unlike most ani­mals, plants can­not move from place to place on their own, they are still capa­ble of move­ment. The mecha­ni­sms behind plant move­ment dif­fer gre­a­tly from those in ani­mals, which rely mainly on spe­cia­li­zed pro­te­ins such as myo­sin. In plants, move­ment occurs pri­ma­rily thro­ugh growth and chan­ges in tur­gor pres­sure. Growth move­ments result from cell expan­sion and divi­sion, while tur­gor move­ments are cau­sed by shi­fts in inter­nal pres­sure that change the volume of plant cells.

Ilustracja
Ani­ma­tion: sup­ple­men­tary mate­rial

Depen­ding on the mecha­nism invo­lved, plant move­ments can be divi­ded into three main types:

Tro­pi­sms are growth respon­ses in plants that occur in reac­tion to a direc­tio­nal sti­mu­lus. They result from an une­ven distri­bu­tion of plant hor­mo­nes, known as auxins, within tis­sues or organs. This une­ven distri­bu­tion cau­ses cells in dif­fe­rent regions of the organ to grow at dif­fe­rent rates, lea­ding the struc­ture to bend toward or away from the sti­mu­lus. A tro­pism is con­si­de­red posi­tive when the organ grows toward the source of the sti­mu­lus, and nega­tive when it grows in the oppo­site direc­tion. Depen­ding on the nature of the sti­mu­lus, we can iden­tify seve­ral types of tro­pi­sms, inc­lu­ding pho­to­tro­pism, geo­tro­pism, hydro­tro­pism, and ther­mo­tro­pism.

Move­ments of entire small orga­ni­sms, such as cilia­tes, that occur in response to a direc­tio­nal sti­mu­lus are cal­led taxis. Move­ment toward the sti­mu­lus is known as posi­tive taxis, while move­ment in the oppo­site direc­tion is cal­led nega­tive taxis. These move­ments help orga­ni­sms find the most favo­ra­ble envi­ron­men­tal con­di­tions for survi­val.

Nastic move­ments are ben­ding respon­ses that do not depend on the direc­tion of the sti­mu­lus. They can also be trig­ge­red by dif­fuse or non-direc­tio­nal sti­muli. Nasties dif­fer fun­da­men­tally from tro­pi­sms because, unlike tro­pic move­ments, they are pri­ma­rily cau­sed by chan­ges in the tur­gor pres­sure of spe­ci­fic cells.

Tur­gor is the state of ten­sion in a plant cell wall cau­sed by the hydro­sta­tic pres­sure of the fluid inside the cell. This pres­sure keeps plant tis­sues firm and helps main­tain the shape of both indi­vi­dual cells and entire plant organs.

Depen­ding on the type of sti­mu­lus, plant move­ments can be divi­ded into:

In addi­tion to these types of plant move­ment, other forms also occur, such as hygro­sco­pic move­ments. These arise from une­ven dry­ing or absorp­tion of water by dead cell wall fibers and mem­bra­nes.

We can the­re­fore say with com­plete con­fi­dence that it is not true that plants do not move. Why, then, is the com­mon belief other­wise? The answer seems sim­ple: plant move­ments are usu­ally very slow, with spe­eds much lower than those obse­rved in ani­mals. Most impor­tan­tly, move­ment at such a pace is imper­cep­ti­ble to the naked eye. To obse­rve plant motion, one must rely on cle­ver and often time-con­su­ming methods such as time-lapse pho­to­gra­phy taken at long inte­rvals, some­ti­mes over the course of seve­ral weeks.

Howe­ver, there are some plants whose move­ments can be seen without any instru­ments or tech­ni­cal assi­stance. A good exam­ple is the Venus fly­trap (Dio­naea musci­pula), a car­ni­vo­rous plant whose trap-like lea­ves close on prey, such as an insect, within just a few seconds.

Gro­wing Venus fly­traps and other car­ni­vo­rous plants can be some­what chal­len­ging, espe­cially in a clas­sroom set­ting. It is cer­ta­inly a rewar­ding expe­rience, but this time I would like to intro­duce the rea­der to ano­ther fasci­na­ting plant that I can who­le­he­ar­te­dly recom­mend to any­one inte­re­sted. I am refer­ring to the sen­si­tive plant (Mimosa pudica), also known as the touch-me-not, which displays remar­ka­bly clear sei­smo­na­stic move­ments.

Cul­ti­va­tion and Obse­rva­tion

The sen­si­tive plant (Mimosa pudica) belongs to the legume family (Faba­ceae) and the sub­fa­mily Mimo­so­i­deae. Altho­ugh it is now wide­spread thro­u­ghout tro­pi­cal and sub­tro­pi­cal regions as a rude­ral spe­cies, it most likely ori­gi­na­ted in South Ame­rica [4]. Under favo­ra­ble con­di­tions, it can form dense clu­sters that inhi­bit the growth of other plant spe­cies.

Mimosa pudica is often grown as an orna­men­tal plant. In Poland, the cli­mate is too cold for it to grow out­do­ors, but it thri­ves in gre­en­ho­u­ses or as a hou­se­plant. Its envi­ron­men­tal requ­i­re­ments are some­what deman­ding, as it pre­fers warm, humid air (aro­und 25°C), nutrient-rich soil, and a sunny loca­tion thro­u­ghout the year. The plant requ­i­res fre­qu­ent wate­ring, and during flo­we­ring it bene­fits from the use of a balan­ced fer­ti­li­zer.

Mimosa pudica is a woody semi-shrub or peren­nial that can reach up to 1 meter in hei­ght. Its stems are cove­red with small thorns, and the leaf petio­les are arran­ged alter­na­tely. The lea­ves are com­po­und and bipin­nate, divi­ded into 10 to 26 pairs of oppo­site lea­flets (Photo 1).

Photo 1 – Com­po­und lea­ves

This fasci­na­ting spe­cies is quite easy to cul­ti­vate at home or in a school bio­logy lab. Under favo­ra­ble con­di­tions, it may even bloom. The inflo­re­scen­ces are small, sphe­ri­cal clu­sters with a very distinc­tive appe­a­rance. They are pin­kish-vio­let in color, with long sta­mens pro­tru­ding from the corolla (Photo 2). The flo­wers are pol­li­na­ted by wind or small insects, and blo­o­ming usu­ally occurs from July to Octo­ber.

Photo 2 – Inflo­re­scence

Under indoor gro­wing con­di­tions, howe­ver, the plant may some­ti­mes bloom at com­ple­tely une­xpec­ted times. In my case, it hap­pe­ned in Febru­ary, as seen in Photo 3, where the snow out­side the win­dow makes the scene even more unu­sual.

Photo 3 – Mimosa pudica blo­o­ming in Febru­ary; two imma­ture inflo­re­scen­ces are visi­ble to the left and sli­gh­tly above the two fully deve­lo­ped ones

After pol­li­na­tion, each inflo­re­scence pro­du­ces nume­rous pods con­ta­i­ning seve­ral seeds each (Photo 4).

Photo 4 – Seed pods

The pods, mea­su­ring 15–25 mm in length, are cove­red with coarse hairs along the edges of their lobes. A sin­gle pod can be seen in Photo 5.

Photo 5 – Sin­gle pod

When dried, the pods break apart into seg­ments (Photo 6A), each con­ta­i­ning a sin­gle oval-sha­ped seed (Photo 6B).

Photo 6 – Seeds; A – pod seg­ments con­ta­i­ning seeds, B – indi­vi­dual seeds

The dried pod seg­ments crack open easily, rele­a­sing the seeds (Photo 7).

Photo 7 – An open pod seg­ment with a seed

In the case of the sen­si­tive plant, the most fasci­na­ting fea­ture is its lea­ves, which are capa­ble of nastic move­ments. The plant responds cle­arly to touch, some­thing that is easy to obse­rve. A gen­tle touch to a leaf, pre­fe­ra­bly near its api­cal region, is eno­ugh to trig­ger a visi­ble reac­tion (Photo 8A). The secon­dary lea­flets then fold upward and touch each other along their upper sur­fa­ces (Pho­tos 8B–E). With stron­ger sti­mu­la­tion, entire sec­tions of the com­po­und leaf move clo­ser toge­ther, and the petiole dro­ops. After the sti­mu­lus cea­ses, the lea­ves gra­du­ally return to their ori­gi­nal posi­tion, which usu­ally takes about 15–20 minu­tes (Photo 8F). The speed of the reac­tion depends on the sur­ro­un­ding tem­pe­ra­ture, and at lower tem­pe­ra­tu­res the response is noti­ce­a­bly slo­wer.

Photo 8 – Sei­smo­na­sty in Mimosa pudica; A – moment of mecha­ni­cal sti­mu­la­tion (0 s, the arrow indi­ca­tes the point of sti­mu­lus appli­ca­tion, i.e., touch with a metal twe­e­zer),
B – 1 s, C – 2 s, D – 3 s, E – 6 s, F – 30 min

The obse­rved chan­ges are cau­sed by varia­tions in tur­gor pres­sure within spe­ci­fic gro­ups of fle­xor and exten­sor cells. The fle­xor cells are loca­ted on the upper side, and the exten­sor cells on the lower side of the so-cal­led pulvini, which are spe­cia­li­zed struc­tu­res found at the bases of leaf petio­les and lea­flets [5].

Mecha­ni­cal sti­mu­la­tion trig­gers an action poten­tial in the sen­sory cells of the sen­si­tive plant, mani­fe­sted as a change in the elec­tric poten­tial across the cell mem­brane. This signal is con­duc­ted along the mem­bra­nes over con­si­de­ra­ble distan­ces, simi­lar to the way nerve cells tran­s­mit impul­ses in ani­mals. The tran­s­mis­sion speed can reach nearly 20 cm per second. The pro­pa­ga­tion of the action poten­tial is asso­cia­ted with tran­s­mem­brane ion move­ment, which in turn ini­tia­tes sub­se­qu­ent pro­ces­ses. In the case of tur­gor chan­ges in the motor cells of the pulvini, the key fac­tor is the move­ment of potas­sium cations (K+). On the lower side of the pulvini, these ions are acti­vely tran­s­por­ted out of the cells fol­lo­wing sti­mu­la­tion, which also cau­ses water to flow out of the pro­to­pla­sts. The tur­gor pres­sure in these cells decre­a­ses, resul­ting in the obse­rved ben­ding of the petio­les. Retur­ning to the resting state requ­i­res the reab­sorp­tion of potas­sium ions and water by the cells [5] [6].

Thanks to the rapid con­duc­tion of the action poten­tial, the clo­sing of the entire leaf occurs very quic­kly, taking only a few seconds.

What is the pur­pose of nastic move­ments? In the case of car­ni­vo­rous plants, the answer seems obvious, but for the sen­si­tive plant it is much more dif­fi­cult to say. It is pos­si­ble that leaf fol­ding in response to touch serves as a defense mecha­nism aga­inst her­bi­vo­res.

As we can see, the sen­si­tive plant is a truly fasci­na­ting spe­cies that pro­vi­des an excel­lent oppor­tu­nity to explore the remar­ka­ble phe­no­me­non of plant move­ment. Its ease of cul­ti­va­tion makes it sui­ta­ble for tea­ching bio­logy at all levels of edu­ca­tion. The sight of a plant moving its lea­ves never fails to sur­prise obse­rvers, and this reac­tion can be skill­fully used to spark curio­sity, which may even­tu­ally lead to genu­ine under­stan­ding.

Refe­ren­ces:

All pho­to­gra­phs and illu­stra­tions were cre­a­ted by the author.

This text has under­gone sli­ght edi­to­rial modi­fi­ca­tions com­pa­red to the ver­sion publi­shed in the jour­nal to bet­ter suit online pre­sen­ta­tion.

Adden­dum

The mimosa’s sei­smo­na­stic move­ments look espe­cially stri­king on video:

Marek Ples

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