I wrote a story yesterday about a clever way to make tiny batteries using a rubber stamp and a virus. It was actually from a paper that came out in PNAS, but one of the authors, Paula Hammond is here at the meeting. She is working with Angela Belcher on some very cool viruses.

The paper outlines a simple way to build up a polyelectrolyte system, and coat a virus onto it, then let cobalt oxide nanoparticles grow on that. Stamp all this cobalt-side down on to a platinum strip, add a thin piece of lithium to the other side and hey-presto! A teeny tiny battery.

In my discussions with others about the work, it seems that people have been playing around with viruses for a while now, but we should start to see a lot more practical applications coming out of this tinkering in the next few years.

I wrote a story yesterday about a clever way to make tiny batteries using a rubber stamp and a virus. It was actually from a paper that came out in PNAS, but one of the authors, Paula Hammond is here at the meeting. She is working with Angela Belcher on some very cool viruses.

The paper outlines a simple way to build up a polyelectrolyte system, and coat a virus onto it, then let cobalt oxide nanoparticles grow on that. Stamp all this cobalt-side down on to a platinum strip, add a thin piece of lithium to the other side and hey-presto! A teeny tiny battery.

In my discussions with others about the work, it seems that people have been playing around with viruses for a while now, but we should start to see a lot more practical applications coming out of this tinkering in the next few years.

I wrote a story yesterday about a clever way to make tiny batteries using a rubber stamp and a virus. It was actually from a paper that came out in PNAS, but one of the authors, Paula Hammond is here at the meeting. She is working with Angela Belcher on some very cool viruses.

The paper outlines a simple way to build up a polyelectrolyte system, and coat a virus onto it, then let cobalt oxide nanoparticles grow on that. Stamp all this cobalt-side down on to a platinum strip, add a thin piece of lithium to the other side and hey-presto! A teeny tiny battery.

In my discussions with others about the work, it seems that people have been playing around with viruses for a while now, but we should start to see a lot more practical applications coming out of this tinkering in the next few years.

Posted for Emma Marris

The Ecological Society of America annual meeting begins today in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Milwaukee is best known for beer brewing, Harley Davidson motorcycles and its rust-belt decline. I decided to skip the whole question of Milwaukee as a city and examine Milwaukee as an ecosystem. I began by joining a field trip that visited a forest and a prairie, both remnants of ecosystems that once covered the area in a fluctuating mosaic controlled by fire.

The prairie, a sea of grasses, sedges, flowers and reeds, blooms from the earth after a fire from a seed bank that contains, in the case of Chiwaukee prairie, over 400 plant species. Bison would have grazed in such places. Today, the Department of Natural Resources struggles to keep this ecosystem from growing bushy. Burning is “tricky”, according to Marty Johnson of the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources, as there are many houses adjacent to the prairie. The state is attempting to buy up these residential lots (developers named the area “Pleasant Prairie”) to expand the habitat. He crew spends its time yanking out invasive species year-round. “Whatever is blooming, you deal with,” he says. The prairie comes up to my shoulder in some places, and is at the moment alive with purple and yellow blooms. As I swished through the grass, I smelled wild bergamot and mountain mint.

Meanwhile, Renak-Polak Woods is a remnant of maple-beech forest, the ecosystem type that typically grew up in the absence of fire. The forest persisted because of two landowners that chose not to develop it for the pleasingly uneconomic reason that they liked it. Sugar maple and smooth-barked beech—"like an elephant’s leg," according to Joy Wolf, a geographer at the University of Wisconsin Parkside—give the forest its name. Black cherry, many-trunked beech, and small herbaceous plants like bloodroot, wild ginger and red baneberry share the woods. Ephemeral ponds come and go, and we found a salamander and a number of crawfish nests to testify to their inhabitants.

These fragments are examples of what the landscape looked like when European settlers arrived. The difference, of course, is that these patches are held static in one phase—prairie or maple-beech forest—whereas the pre-settlement landscape was in reality a shifting mosaic of these and other types mediated by fires, fires often set by the Native Americans. So, in essence, these beautiful repositories of biodiversity are like fine museum pieces displaying fragments of an earlier, and perhaps more successful, land management philosophy for the Milwaukee area.