One of the most fascinating phenomena is the hidden communication network thriving beneath our feet in old-growth forests. While most people appreciate the beauty of towering trees, few realize that these trees are not simply standing in isolation. They’re connected to one another through vast underground fungal networks—mycorrhizal fungi—that act like a sort of forest “internet.”

Within these networks, fungi and tree roots form symbiotic relationships. The fungi trade important nutrients like nitrogen and phosphorus with the trees in exchange for sugars produced by photosynthesis. But the relationship goes beyond mere nutrient exchange. Using these fungal highways, trees can send each other distress signals about pests or drought, share essential compounds with younger or weaker neighbors, and even exert influence over the growth and behavior of nearby plants. Essentially, what appears to be a competition for sunlight and resources above ground is accompanied by complex cooperation below, helping maintain the overall health and resilience of the forest.

What makes this doubly fascinating is that it challenges the traditional view of nature as a survival-of-the-fittest arena. Instead, these fungal-mediated connections reveal that whole forests often function more like communities—even families—exchanging resources and information, ensuring that the ecosystem as a whole can adapt and thrive. This intricate, invisible web under our feet is a reminder that nature’s complexity far surpasses what we see at a glance, and it underscores the importance of protecting habitats we barely understand.

References

Simard, S. W., & Durall, D. M. (2004). Mycorrhizal networks: A review of their extent, function, and importance. Canadian Journal of Botany, 82(8), 1140–1165.

Simard, S. W., Beiler, K. J., Bingham, M. A., Deslippe, J. R., Philip, L. J., & Teste, F. P. (2012). Mycorrhizal networks: Mechanisms, ecology and modelling. Fungal Biology Reviews, 26(1), 39–60.

When we think of deserts and drylands, we often picture barren expanses of sand with sparse, hardy plants eking out an existence against the odds. Yet, hidden beneath the obvious flora lies a remarkably complex and vital community we rarely hear about: biological soil crusts, or “biocrusts.” These are thin, delicate layers composed of organisms like cyanobacteria, mosses, lichens, and fungi that bind soil particles together, preventing erosion and helping the land retain moisture.

What’s truly astonishing is how these fragile, almost invisible networks quietly hold entire ecosystems together. By fixing atmospheric nitrogen, biocrusts enrich the soil, making it more hospitable for plant life. They also improve water infiltration, ensuring that scarce rainfall doesn’t simply run off but instead nourishes seeds and roots. Their presence often marks the difference between a desolate landscape and one that can support a surprising diversity of life—from desert wildflowers and shrubs to the insects, reptiles, and birds that depend on them.

Though they flourish in extreme conditions, biocrusts are alarmingly sensitive to disturbances. Off-road vehicles, human foot traffic, and livestock grazing can break these delicate crusts, setting the stage for severe soil erosion and drastically altering entire ecosystems. As we seek ways to maintain biodiversity and prevent land degradation, recognizing and protecting biocrusts—these unsung ecological engineers—becomes increasingly important. Understanding their role could reshape our approach to conservation in some of the world’s most vulnerable landscapes.

References

Belnap, J., Weber, B., & Büdel, B. (2016). Biological soil crusts as an organizing principle in drylands. In Weber, B., Büdel, B., & Belnap, J. (Eds.), Biological Soil Crusts: An Organizing Principle in Drylands (pp. 3–13).

Springer.Garcia-Pichel, F., Belnap, J., Neuer, S., & Schanz, F. (2003). Estimates of global cyanobacterial biomass and its distribution. Algological Studies, 109(1), 213–227.