PCR products were separated by 1.0–2.0% AGE or 5–9% mini polyacrylamide gel electrophoresis (PAGE; CBS Scientific, San Diego, CA, USA). High-resolution melting (HRM) analysis was carried out as previously described [24]. The melting analysis was performed by raising the temperature to 95°C for 1 min, lowering the temperature to 40°C for 1 min, raising the temperature to 70°C for 5 s, and finally increasing the temperature to 90°C, with continuous fluorescence acquisition followed Androgen Receptor Antagonist clinical trial by a cool down to 40°C using a LightCycler 480 (Roche Applied Science, Indianapolis, IN, USA). The fluorescence

signal was plotted in real time versus temperature to produce melting curves for each sample. The melting curves were then converted into negative derivative curves of fluorescence with respect to temperature, and the results were analyzed using the Roche LightCycler 480 Data Analysis software (Roche Applied Science). From among the 24 InDel markers derived from CIS regions of P. ginseng and P. quinquefolius [24], we initially utilized the pgcpir 035 marker showing the largest InDel between both species for analysis of fresh ginseng root products from Korean ginseng markets. The pgcpir 035 marker produced 295-bp and 318-bp bands

for P. ginseng and P. quinquefolius, respectively, MAPK Inhibitor Library and the products were clearly distinguishable by AGE ( Fig. 1B) and HRM ( Fig. 1C). We purchased fresh ginseng roots from 10 different ginseng stores in the Geumsan ginseng market in Korea (Fig. 1A). Root ages varied from 3 yr to 6 yr for regularly cultivated ginseng (Fig. 1A a–h) and up to 10 yr for mountain-grown ginseng (Fig. 1A Adenosine i,j). All of the ginseng roots purchased from the 10 different ginseng stores were revealed to be P. ginseng. It is not unexpected that we did not find any American ginseng roots among the tested fresh ginseng roots, because American ginseng is not officially allowed to be imported into Korea at present. The pgcpir 035 marker is based on

a 23-bp InDel that is derived from copy number variation of a 23-bp tandem repeat, with two and three copies present in the intergenic spacers of rps2–rpoC2 genes of P. ginseng and P. quinquefolius, respectively [24]. The CIS of the rps2–rpoC2 genes has previously been used for genetic diversity analysis of a grass subfamily and Apocynaceae plants [27] and [28]. Here, we found that the rps2–rpoC2 CIS also provided a reproducible and credible marker to identify Korean ginseng and American ginseng. We inspected many Korean ginseng samples including all 10 registered cultivars, various landraces, and various products in addition to the 10 fresh ginseng root samples described above, and all gave rise to results identical to that of P. ginseng standard DNA [14] and [15]. We did not inspect various P.

Is it possible that the difference in children’s performance across the two experiments is due to the tasks requiring different types of competence: for example, that experiment 1 requires the derivation of quantity implicatures but experiment 2 only requires sensitivity to informativeness? We cannot see any motivation

for postulating this. The experiments do not differ in terms of visual or procedural complexity, and use exactly the same linguistic stimuli, visual animations and overall scenario. Moreover, the experiments do not differ in terms of the meta-linguistic demands of the task, as they both require participants to pass judgment on utterances. The only apparent difference is the use of a ternary scale in experiment 2, which enables participants to give a response that is more lenient than a downright rejection but stricter than a thorough endorsement of the utterance. If our claims are well-founded, it should follow that children’s pragmatic Wortmannin supplier competence is best investigated using paradigms in which pragmatic tolerance cannot cloud the interpretation of the participants’ http://www.selleckchem.com/p38-MAPK.html performance. To test this supposition, we

now turn to the sentence-to-picture matching paradigm, where participants are visually presented with four outcomes of a scenario, and they are asked to select the picture that matches their interpretation of the utterances used in experiments 1 and 2. The computer-based judgement task used in experiments 1 and 2 was modified as follows. The experimenter explains that participants will see some stories and that Mr. Caveman will narrate what is going on in the story. After being introduced

to each story, the participant will be presented with four pictures on the screen, and Mr. Caveman will say what eventually happened in the story that he has in his mind. The participant should then point to the picture that matches Mr. Caveman’s story. The trials begin as in experiments 1 and 2. After the initial screen display showing Chloroambucil the protagonist and the objects that may be affected, participants are shown a second screen divided into four (see Appendix C for a sample visual display). Mr. Caveman then says ‘In my story…’ and then continues his utterance with the pre-recorded utterances used in experiments 1 and 2. Participants are then asked to point to the picture that matches Mr. Caveman’s story. The pictures differed in the type of objects that were depicted as affected by the protagonist’s actions (e.g. carrots, pumpkins; heart, triangle) and in their quantity (some or all, either or both). For example, in a critical trial for scalar ‘some’, participants were presented with four pictures, corresponding to the situations in which the mouse picked up three out of five carrots, or three out of five pumpkins, or five out of five carrots, or five out of five pumpkins. They then heard ‘In my story, the mouse picked up some of the carrots’.

, 2006); thus, we infer that high magnitude, short

duration atmospheric river storms are similarly likely to govern flood hydrology in the ungaged Robinson Creek basin. Average annual rainfall recorded at the Boonville HMS gage (data from Western Regional Climate Center) near the mouth of Robinson Creek in Boonville, CA, over a 58 year period between water year 1937 and 1998 shows variability, with an average rainfall of 1016 mm/yr (Fig. 2). Annual rainfall totals measured at Yorkville, approximately 20 km east of Boonville, since 1898 provide a 115-year proxy record for estimating timing of storms, and further demonstrate variability characteristic of the region. Proxy data from other watersheds in northern California suggest that the period prior to the instrumental Dolutegravir manufacturer record included extreme storms, such as occurred in 1861–1862 throughout California—and would have influenced the early Euro-American settlers in Anderson Valley. Storms with equal or greater magnitude occurred in AD 1600 and between 1750 and 1770, with a recurrence this website interval over the past 800 years of ∼100–120 years (Ingram and Malamud-Roam, 2013). Still larger storms in California are thought to have recurrence intervals on the order of 200 years (Dettinger and Ingram,

2013). Other work suggests that moderate floods in northern California capable of geomorphic change recurred during ∼25% of years over the past 155 years (Florsheim and Dettinger, 2007). Nintedanib (BIBF 1120) Together, these records suggest that extreme floods, as well as more moderate storms and droughts are characteristic of natural climate variability over multiple centuries including the historical period. Moreover, recent work suggests that since 1850, California’s climate

has been relatively stable and benign compared to variations typical of the past 2000 years or more (Malamud-Roam et al., 2006; 2007). Thus, even a century long rainfall record such as exists at Yorkville must be considered within the context of longer-term climate variation. The pre-incision Robinson Creek channel-floodplain environment supported riparian trees at an elevation such that frequent inundation was likely. Storms that generate enough runoff to initiate overbank flow in alluvial channel-floodplain systems were fundamental in creating this environment. Channel-floodplain hydrologic connectivity is still functioning in downstream portions of the Navarro River (e.g. overbank flow occurred during water years 1956, 1965, 1973, 1983, 1986, 1996, 1997, 1986, 1983, 1995, 1998; Florsheim, 2004). However, in Robinson Creek in Boonville, the 1986 and later floods remained within the channel, and although local residents recall high water during earlier floods during water years 1956, 1965, and 1983—their oral histories do not recount overbank flow (Navarro River Resource Center, 2006).

In the absence of permanent prehistoric

human settlement on Floreana Island in the Galápagos Islands, for example, Steadman et al. (1991) identified 18 bird species four of which are now extinct, but all probably survived into historic times. In the Pacific, many island extinctions were probably caused by the accidental introduction of the Polynesian rat (Rattus exulans) from mainland southeast Asia. This stowaway on Polynesian sailing vessels has been implicated in the extinction of snails, frogs, and lizards in New Zealand ( Brook, 1999), giant iguanas and bats in Tonga ( Koopman and Steadman, 1995 and Pregill and Dye, 1989), and a variety of birds across the Pacific ( Kirch, 1997, Kirch et al., 1995, Steadman, 1989 and Steadman and Kirch, 1990). The staggering check details story of deforestation, competitive statue building, and environmental deterioration on Easter Island (Rapa Nui), often used as a cautionary tale about the dangers of overexploitation ( Bahn and Flenley, 1992 and Diamond, 2005; but see also Hunt and Lipo, 2010), may be as much a story about rats as it is humans. Flenley ( Flenley, 1993 and Flenley et al., 1991) identified Polynesian rat gnaw-marks on the seeds of the now extinct Easter Island palm, suggesting that these rodents played a significant role in the extinction of this species, the decreased BTK inhibitor richness of island biotas, and subsequent lack of construction material for ocean-going canoes and other purposes.

While the extinction of large herbivores and other megafauna around the world in the late Quaternary and the

Holocene had continental and local impacts on ecosystems, recent research suggests that the effects may have been larger in scope than scientists click here once believed. Associated with the extinctions, a number of studies have identified the reorganization of terrestrial communities, the appearance and disappearance of no-analog plant communities, and dramatic increases in biomass burning (Gill et al., 2009, Marlon et al., 2009, Veloz et al., 2012, Williams and Jackson, 2007, Williams et al., 2004 and Williams et al., 2011). Some studies link these no-analog communities to natural climatic changes (e.g., terminal Pleistocene changes in solar irradiation and temperature seasonality), but they also may be linked to megafaunal extinctions (Gill et al., 2009 and Williams et al., 2001). Gill et al. (2009) used Sporormiella spp. and other paleoecological proxies to demonstrate that the decline in large herbivores may have altered ecosystem structure in North America by releasing hardwoods from predation pressure and increasing fuel loads. Shortly after megafaunal declines, Gill et al. (2009) identified dramatic restructuring of plant communities and heightened fire regimes. In Australia, Flannery (1994:228–230) identified a link between the arrival of the first Aboriginals and a change in vegetation communities toward a fire-adapted landscape.

Placing the onset of the Anthropocene at the Pleistocene–Holocene boundary in effect Selleckchem OTX015 makes it coeval with the Holocene, and removes the formal requirement of establishing a new geological epoch. The Holocene and Anthropocene epochs could on practical terms be merged into the Holocene/Anthropocene epoch, easily

and efficiently encompassing 10,000 years of human modification of the earth’s biosphere. Recognizing the coeval nature of the Holocene and Anthropocene epochs could also open up a number of interesting possibilities. The International Commission on Stratigraphy of the International Union of Geological Sciences, for example, might consider a linked nomenclature change: “Holocene/Anthropocene”, with the term “Holocene” likely to continue to be employed in scientific contexts and “Anthropocene” gaining usage in popular discourse. Such a solution would seem to solve the current dilemma while also serving to focus additional attention and research interest on the past ten millennia of human engineering of the earth’s ecosystems. Situating the onset of the Anthropocene

at 11,000–9000 years ago and making it coeval with the Holocene broadens the scope of inquiry selleck compound regarding human modification of the earth’s ecosystems to encompass the entirety of the long and complex history of how humans came to occupy central stage in shaping the future of our planet. It also shifts the focus away from gaseous emissions of smoke stacks and livestock, spikes in pollen diagrams, or new soil horizons of epochal proportions to a closer consideration of regional-scale Flucloronide documentation of the long and complex history of human interaction

with the environment that stretches back to the origin of our species up to the present day. We would like to thank Jon Erlandson and Todd Braje for their invitation to contribute to this special issue of Anthropocene, and for the thoughtful and substantial recommendations for improvement of our article that they and other reviewers provided. “
“For many geologists and climate scientists, earth’s fossil record reads like a soap opera in five parts. The episodes played out over the last 450 million years and the storylines are divided by five mass extinction events, biotic crises when at least half the planet’s macroscopic plants and animals disappeared. Geologists have used these mass extinctions to mark transitions to new geologic epochs (Table 1), and they are often called the “Big Five” extinctions. When these extinctions were first identified, they seemed to be outliers within an overall trend of decreasing extinctions and origination rates over the last 542 million years, the Phanerozoic Eon (Gilinsky, 1994, Raup, 1986 and Raup and Sepkoski, 1982).

Prior to the beginning of the first part of the procedure (composed by VRT and EIT), a short training session was given. The goal of this training was to give children

the opportunity to manipulate the touch-screen, and to introduce them to the specific environment of VRT and EIT trials before testing. Four training items were given: Two items followed an iterative rule, which was not hierarchical (see Appendix B for an example); one item was iterative and hierarchical, but not recursive (similar to the items of EIT); and the last item was iterative, hierarchical and recursive (similar to VRT). If participants provided an incorrect response, the same item was presented again until a correct response was provided. In case of repeated failure, the experimenter tried to motivate the child (during training only) by drawing his/her

selleck chemicals llc 5-Fluoracil concentration attention to the structure of the trial, and repeating the instructions if necessary. TROG-D is a grammatical comprehension task designed for children aged 3 to 11 years. It is the German adaptation of the English Test for Reception of Grammar – TROG ( Bishop, 2003) and was standardized using the data from 870 monolingual German-speaking children ( Fox, 2007). The test consists of 84 test items grouped into 21 test blocks, with increasing difficulty: nouns, verbs, adjectives, 2-element sentences (SV), 3-element sentences (SVO), negation, prepositions (‘in/on’), perfect tense, plural, prepositions (‘above/below’), passive, personal pronouns (nominative), relative clauses (nominative), personal pronouns (accusative/dative),

double object constructions, subordination (‘while/after’), topicalization, disjunctive conjunctions (‘neither-nor’), relative clauses (accusative/dative), filipin coordination (‘and’), subordination (‘that’). Test items are presented in a four picture multiple-choice format with lexical and grammatical foils. The test procedure is as follows: The investigator reads aloud the test item to the child (e.g. relative clause (nominative): Der Junge, derdas Pferd jagt, ist dick ‘The boy, who is chasing the horse, is chubby’), and the task of the child is to point at the appropriate picture in the test booklet. Participants’ responses are analyzed by test block (N = 21); in order for a test block to be classified as correct, all responses within the test block have to be correct. Raven’s Coloured Progressive Matrices (CPM) is a non-verbal intelligence task (with a focus on logical reasoning) designed for children aged 5–11 years ( Raven et al., 2010). The test consists of 36 test items grouped into 3 test sets (A, Ab, B), with 12 test items each. Test sets are arranged in a way so as to allow development of a consistent method of thinking; set A: completion of a single, continuous pattern, sets Ab and B: completion of discrete patterns.

Numerous conceptual models incorporate some or all of these basic concepts (e.g., Bull, 1991, Simon and Rinaldi, 2006, Wohl, 2010 and Chin et al.,

in press): in this section, I focus on the basic concepts. Connectivity is used to describe multiple aspects of fluxes of matter, energy and organisms (Fig. 1). Hydrologic connectivity refers to the movement of water, such as down a hillslope in the surface and/or subsurface, from hillslopes into channels, or along a river network (Pringle, 2001 and Bracken and Croke, 2007). Sediment connectivity describes the movement or storage of sediment down hillslopes, into channels, along river networks, and buy Ion Channel Ligand Library so forth (Fryirs et al., 2007). River connectivity refers to water-mediated selleck kinase inhibitor fluxes within a river network (Ward, 1997). Biological connectivity describes the ability of organisms or plant propagules to disperse between suitable habitats or between isolated populations for breeding (Merriam, 1984). Landscape connectivity refers to the movement of water, sediment, or other materials between individual landforms (Brierley et al., 2006). Structural connectivity characterizes the extent

to which landscape units, which can range in scale from <1 m for bunchgrasses dispersed across exposed soil to the configuration of hillslopes and valley bottoms across thousands of meters, are physically linked to one another (Wainwright et al., 2011). Functional connectivity describes Montelukast Sodium process-specific interactions between multiple structural characteristics, such as runoff and sediment moving downslope between the bunchgrasses and exposed soil patches (Wainwright et al., 2011). Any of these forms of connectivity can be described in terms of spatial extent, which partly depends on temporal variability. River connectivity, for example, fluctuates through time as discharge fluctuates, just as functional

connectivity along a hillslope fluctuates through time in response to precipitation (Wainwright et al., 2011). Connectivity can also be used to describe social components. The terms multidisciplinary, interdisciplinary, holistic, and integrative, as applied to research or management, all refer to disciplinary connectivity, or the ability to convey information originating in different scholarly disciplines, the incorporation of different disciplinary perspectives, and the recognition that critical zone processes transcend any particular scholarly discipline. Beyond the fact that the characteristics of connectivity critically influence process and form in the critical zone, the specifics of connectivity can be used to understand how past human manipulations have altered a particular landscape or ecosystem, and how future manipulations might be used to restore desired system traits. This approach is exemplified by the connectivity diagrams for rivers in Kondolf et al. (2006) (Fig. 2).

Connectivity’ has been a major theme in UK fluvial research in recent years, particularly in empirical contexts of coarse sediment transfer PLX4032 manufacturer in upland environments involving gully, fan and adjacent floodplain (Harvey, 1997 and Hooke, 2003), and in the transfer of sediment within valleys in the form of sediment slugs or waves (Macklin and Lewin, 1989 and Nicholas et al., 1995). These and studies elsewhere have commonly used morphological estimates and budgeting

of sediment flux, both from historical survey comparisons (decades to centuries) and from reconnaissance assessments of apparently active erosion or sedimentation sites. On the longer timescale necessary for assessing human impact, whole-catchment modelling involving Holocene sediment routing has also demonstrated how complex and catchment specific these internal transfers may be in response to climatic and land cover changes (Coulthard et al., 2002 and Coulthard et al., 2005). Major elements of UK catchment relief

involve variable lithologies, BYL719 in vitro over-steepened to low-gradient slopes, rock steps, alluvial basins, and valley fills inherited from prior Pleistocene glacial and periglacial systems (Macklin and Lewin, 1986). Some of these locally provide what may be called ‘memory-rich’ process environments. Progressive and ongoing Holocene evacuation of coarse Pleistocene valley fills is of major significance in a UK context (Passmore and Macklin, 2001), and this differs from some of the erodible loess terrains in which many other AA studies have been conducted in Europe and North America (e.g. Trimble, 1983, Trimble, 1999, Lang et al., 2003, Knox, 2006, Houben, 2008, Hoffman et al., 2008 and Houben et al., 2012). Human activities have greatly modified hydrological systems, and in different ways: in terms of discharge response to precipitation and extreme events,

but also in the supply of sediment. For finer sediments (where sediment loadings are generally supply-limited rather than competence-limited), dominant yield events (near bankfull) and sediment-depositing events (overbank) may not be the same. Holocene flood episodes (Macklin et al., 2010) may also be characterized by river incision (Macklin et al., 2013) as well as by the development of thick depositional sequences (Jones et al., 2012), Mannose-binding protein-associated serine protease depending on river environment. Fine sediment may be derived from surface soil removal, through enhanced gullying and headwater channel incision, from reactivation of riparian storages, or through the direct human injection or extraction of material involving toxic waste or gravel mining. For a millennium and more, channel-way engineering has also transformed systems to provide domestic and industrial water supply, water power for milling, improved passage both along and across rivers, fisheries improvement, and for flood protection (Lewin, 2010 and Lewin, 2013).

These experiments were performed in Tabac mice backcrossed to the inbred mouse line C57BL/6 (Figure 7C), which has been shown to have a high basal level of self-selection of nicotine (Glatt et al., 2009, Meliska et al., 1995 and Robinson et al., 1996), and in Tabac mice outbred between FBV/N mixed and Swiss Webster (Figure 7D). As shown in Figure 7C, in C57BL/6 Tabac mice, injection of A-1210477 purchase the LV-α5N virus reversed their nicotine aversion in comparison to mice injected with the control virus. In outbred Tabac mice injected with the control virus,

we observed no alteration in nicotine aversion (Figure 7D) with respect to uninjected Tabac mice (Figure 6C). Importantly, infection with LV-α5N virus reversed nicotine aversion in Tabac mice (Figure 7D), restoring nicotine consumption in α5 D397N-infected Tabac mice to levels evident in WT mice (Figure 6C). These results demonstrate a major role for the MHb in nicotine consumption. Human genetic studies have established an association between the CHRNB4-CHRNA3-CHRNA5

locus and tobacco use ( Amos et al., 2010b, Saccone et al., 2009, Thorgeirsson et al., 2008 and Weiss et al., 2008). Here we report a mouse model (Tabac mice) with altered nicotine consumption and CPA caused by elevated levels of β4, enhanced nicotine-evoked currents, and increased surface expression of functional nAChRs at endogenous sites. The ability of β4 to enhance nicotine-evoked currents depends on a single critical residue (S435) located in the intracellular vestibule of the receptor. Interestingly, modeling studies revealed that one Selleckchem PCI-32765 of the most common SNPs associated with tobacco usage, D398N in the α5 subunit, also maps to this domain. Functional analyses of this variant demonstrate that alterations in this domain can result in profound effects on nicotine-evoked currents. Bay 11-7085 Based on our studies in Tabac mice in which enhanced current is associated with increased aversion to nicotine, we predicted that the α5 variant (corresponding to D397N in

mice) should increase nicotine consumption consistent with its association with smoking. To test this idea, and given that the MHb contains a very high concentration of endogenous α3β4α5 receptors and elevated levels of β4 driven by the Tabac transgene, we introduced the α5 variant by viral-mediated transduction in habenular neurons of Tabac mice. The reversal of the nicotine aversion achieved in Tabac mice observed in these experiments demonstrates that the MHb plays a major regulatory role in nicotine consumption. Three main points are addressed in this study. First, changes both in the coordinated expression of α3β4α5 subunits (i.e., overexpression of the β4 subunit) and in single residues (i.e., in vivo viral-mediated expression of the α5 D397N variant) have a strong influence on nicotine consumption in mice.

In the visible platform

trial, nonenriched Bdnf+/− and Kif1a+/− mice showed performances comparable to nonenriched littermate control mice (littermate control versus Bdnf+/−: latency, F(1,22) = 0.01681, p = 0.8980; littermate control versus Kif1a+/−: latency, F(1,22) = 0.007734, p = 0.9307, DZNeP mouse two-way repeated-measures ANOVA) ( Figures S2P and S2W), and there were no significant differences between nonenriched and enriched mice (latency of nonenriched versus enriched: wild-type, F(1,22) = 0.3455, p = 0.5626; Bdnf+/−, F(1,22) = 0.1733, p = 0.6812; Kif1a+/−, F(1,22) = 1.461 × 10−14, p = 1.000, two-way repeated-measures ANOVA) ( Figures S2B, S2F, and S2J). Throughout the experiments, there were no significant differences in the average swim speed between nonenriched and enriched mice Tyrosine Kinase Inhibitor Library screening (nonenriched versus enriched [cm/s]: wild-type, 23.9 ± 1.0 versus 25.4 ± 0.9, p = 0.2959; Bdnf+/−, 25.1 ± 0.7 versus 25.3 ± 0.8, p = 0.8373; Kif1a+/−, 24.0 ± 1.0 versus 25.5 ± 0.9, p = 0.2622, two-tailed t test) ( Figures 2C, 2F, and 2I and Figures S2C, S2D, S2G, S2H, S2K, and S2L), and between genotypes (littermate control versus Bdnf+/− [cm/s]: 24.5 ± 0.8 versus 24.8 ± 0.8, p = 0.8605; littermate control versus Kif1a+/− [cm/s]: 24.6 ± 1.1 versus 23.9 ± 1.0, p = 0.6275, two-tailed t test) ( Figures S2Q–S2S and S2X–S2Z). We then examined the possible role

of KIF1A upregulation in nonspatial learning ability, using the contextual fear conditioning test. Exposure of wild-type mice to enrichment for 3 weeks significantly enhanced contextual freezing responses 24 hr after conditioning (nonenriched versus enriched: 33.5% ± 2.5% versus 51.7% ± 4.0%, p = 0.0013, two-tailed t test) (Figure 2K), Asenapine consistent with previous reports (Rampon et al., 2000a). Compared with nonenriched wild-type mice, nonenriched Bdnf+/−

mice exhibited impaired contextual fear learning (wild-type versus Bdnf+/−: 33.5% ± 2.5% versus 20.8% ± 1.8%, p < 0.01, post hoc Dunnett's test) ( Figure 2K), as previously reported ( Liu et al., 2004). Nonenriched Kif1a+/− mice showed intact contextual fear learning (wild-type versus Kif1a+/−: 33.5% ± 2.5% versus 30.8% ± 3.6%, p > 0.05, post hoc Dunnett’s test) ( Figure 2K). Significantly, in contrast to wild-type mice, no enhancement of contextual fear learning was found in enriched Bdnf+/− or Kif1a+/− mice, compared with respective nonenriched mice (nonenriched versus enriched: Bdnf+/−, 20.8% ± 1.8% versus 21.7% ± 1.5%, p = 0.7289; Kif1a+/−, 30.8% ± 3.6% versus 31.0% ± 3.7%, p = 0.9686, two-tailed t test) ( Figure 2K). There were no significant differences in freezing responses immediately after the foot shock between nonenriched and enriched mice (nonenriched versus enriched: wild-type, 14.8% ± 3.3% versus 16.7% ± 6.3%, p = 0.7921; Bdnf+/−, 14.6% ± 4.9% versus 12.5% ± 6.1%, p = 0.7942; Kif1a+/−, 14.6% ± 3.8% versus 10.4% ± 5.4%, p = 0.5373, two-tailed t test) ( Figure 2J).