50 Shades of Green
The IFP’s Favorite Ecotone Enthusiast
Five meters into a salt marsh, Dr. John Kominoski stands before his students in knee-high black rain boots and a variety of other yellow and green swamp garb. The heavy air lingers as he light-heartedly laughs at his own inability to depict some greens from others, due to his color-blindness. “Georgia’s coast is kind of a gem,” he says with fascination, in reference to the high productivity of the salt marshes in Sapelo Island. He begins to explain the gradient of the marsh, and points out the stark changes in ecosystems as the group tramps farther and farther into the mud.
“Habitats are biologically connected, and energy is continuous” John explains later that afternoon. His youthful nature invites students to pose questions of all kinds, even those which occur as he bounces in the bed of a pick-up truck, clinging to his fellow professor, Deb Dooley, in an effort not to spring into the dirt road. “It’s a Celtic knot,” he answers happily when asked about his tattoo. These knots do not have a visible beginning or end, and instead appear to be constantly flowing.
There is also a flow to nature, described by ecotones. These represent transitions in ecosystems: areas where different plants grow, animals thrive, and communities exist. The Interdisciplinary Field Program (IFP), in a way, is an ecotone in many of the lives it touches; a transition from childhood to adulthood, reliance to independence, ambivalence to passion. This would not be possible without a catalyst, a role which Kominoski plays well. “We’re so aware of everything,” he remarks with amazement in reference to human-nature. Student Charlotte Bleau, having only had John for four days, is already aware of her progression. “He makes me want to be engaged when he speaks. It’s a subtle passion and he wants you to be interested.”
“He’s as much of a friend as a colleague,” long-time coworker Doug Dvoracek comments with a grin. “We definitely have a history together.” The IFP is a tightly knit unit of educators with a passion for their students and their fields of study. “John is just fascinated with salt-marshes. They parallel to the freshwater ecology he studies and that floats his boat.”
While aboard the research vessel Spartina, I study Kominoski as he observes students root through the contents of a trawl. “As much as I love shrimp, I feel horrible when we pull up the bi-catch. You don’t know it, but it’s all dying.” Among the shrimp, various species of fish and crabs violently flounder in the daylight. The salty wind whips through the ship’s rigging. John carefully takes note of the bi-catch to shrimp ratio, and marks it down in his notebook filled with precise data.
“There is an importance to complexity,” he laughs in reference to the interworking of the marine ecosystem. I find myself relating to his lectures in a sense bigger than he intends. He is able to take a broad concept and hone in on it in an almost personal manner. There is a unique trait attributed to those with color-blindness, discovered during military training research. During training drills, color blind soldiers were not phased by camouflage and were quicker to notice sharpness and movement in objects. Perhaps this talent is translated to John’s study of the environment, and helps him perceive ecological nuances.
Without the gradients that John studies so deeply, our world would still be stuck in its primitive roots. Nothing but ancient bacteria would be living. I too am now awestruck by what lies before us each and every day because of Dr. John Kominoski. The transition from the salinity of the sea, to the shore-lying shrubs, to the maritime forest pines bewilders me. It’s a living time line. Standing in the salt marsh, I saw thousands of years of history in a 100-meter distance.
Knee deep in mud, John’s students intently sketch the scenery of the basin. Moments later, a cry of shock is heard from John who is ahead of the group. A yellow and green cap is barely visible through the tall grass, but his laugh diffuses across the marsh. Covered in mud from the waist down, John finds his footing once again. He is not put off in the slightest by his tumble. “We came from the Earth, and we go back to the Earth.” John Kominoski is truly a character, and someone whose presence is cherished.
