Artificial Intelligence (AI) is swiftly inundating industry and society, dragging us all along like a rip tide out to uncharted seas. Along with the societal, behavioral and economic changes that face us, there are concerning environmental implications due to AI infrastructure’s enormous demand for energy and water.</p> Although we almost find ourselves coerced into this brave new world, we must ask: Is it possible to leverage this revolution to set our ecosystems and environments on a course towards a thriving future?</p> This was the central question at this spring’s Innovation Summit</a> hosted by the University of Colorado’s Environmental Data Science Innovation & Impact Lab (ESIIL).</p> The summit brought together experts from an array of disciplines across academia, industry and nonprofit organizations, including myself and Associate Curator of Mycology Andrew Wilson. We spent the week learning new methods and approaches for applying AI to environmental sciences, sustainability and the biodiversity research that Andrew and I do here at Denver Botanic Gardens.</p> After a whirlwind of workshops and discussions, we formed a group interested in using large language models (LLMs) to gather data that are distributed across the internet. Bringing related, but often difficult to find, datasets together can aid researchers in their ability to pool together the data from similar studies to uncover larger trends. We call these metanalyses.</p> Utilizing ESIIL’s access to high-performance computing and LLMs, we created an AI agent that scours the internet for relevant datasets. The process was surprisingly simple, and within the course of a few hours we had put together an imperfect but functional product. Our group plans to continue meeting this summer to refine the project and possibly create some use-case studies for publication.</p> The summit concluded in a most unique and personal way. All 150 of us walked out into the sun, removed our shoes and socks and formed a circle on the grass. We then proceeded in a self-looping line to look each participant in the eyes, shake hands and exchange salutations. It was a deeply humanistic approach to remind us that people working together, not technology alone, can solve the biggest problems we face. </p>
Some plants bloom year after year. Others get just one spectacular chance.</p> Last month, after 25 years of quiet growth, the Utah agave (Agave utahensis</em> subsp. kaibabensis</em>) in the Roads Water-Smart Garden</a> produced the first and only flower stalk of its lifetime. While this phenomenon is often called a "death bloom</a>," our horticulturists prefer to think of it as the plant's remarkable final act.</p> This rare agave is not native to Colorado, but rather the Kaibab Plateau along the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, though it can occasionally be found at specialty nurseries. Like other monocarpic agaves, it spends decades storing energy before sending up a towering flower stalk. For this species, that moment can come anytime between 10 and 30 years of age</a>. Once flowering is complete, the plant dies.</p> Unlike many agaves that reproduce by producing offsets, or "pups," the Utah agave relies entirely on seeds. Its impressive flower stalk will produce thousands of blossoms, each with the potential to become a seed if successfully pollinated. Because the Gardens currently has only one plant of this subspecies, successful pollination and seed production are unlikely, making this bloom an especially rare event.</p> For our horticulture team, the bloom is both bittersweet and inspiring. This resilient plant has weathered Colorado's unpredictable climate over the past quarter century, making its final display a celebration of endurance as much as reproduction.</p> As of now, the agave is still blooming – but that’s only expected to last another week or two. Once the bloom is done, the stalk will remain standing for the next several months.</p> Visit soon and stop by the Roads Water-Smart Garden to witness this extraordinary moment in the plant's life cycle. It's a reminder that in nature, even an ending can be one of the most beautiful chapters. </p>
