Showing posts with label Arethusa bulbosa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Arethusa bulbosa. Show all posts

Sunday, June 15, 2014

Gone Boggin' in Southeast Michigan

There are few habitats I love to explore and delve into more than the peaty goodness that is a sphagnum bog. These heavily acidic and nutrient poor habitats are home to a seemingly endless parade of rare and unusual plant species that thrive in the otherwise harsh and unforgiving conditions.  Orchids, carnivorous plants, sedges, and Ericaceous (plants in the heath or Ericaceae family) species are just the beginning of what you may find in the depths of any high-quality bog.

This past weekend I managed to get out and get my feet wet in one of these fantastic places in southeast Michigan with a few good friends and very knowledgeable naturalists in Todd Crail and Bill and Deb Marsh.  Deb happens to be a fellow nature blogger and I encourage you to check out her work by following this link HERE.  It was an all day jaunt through a diverse array of rare and undisturbed habitats apart from the bog and I will be bringing those places to you in the next post.  For now it's time to slip into some rubber boots and avoid the poison sumac as we wade on into a squishy sphagnum paradise.

Flush of green on the floating bog mat

While nearly all of Ohio's peatlands have been lost to the past due to the forces of natural succession, draining, and mining, the same cannot quite be said for our northern neighbors in Michigan.  Many of their bogs have met the same fate as ours but enough remain to represent their kind in a proud fashion.  Sphagnum bogs owe their existence to the massive sheets of ice that once covered the area tens of thousands of years ago during the last ice age.  When the ice began to recede north, immense chunks were shed and left to melt atop the freshly deposited till in the wake of the glaciers.  As those deposited ice blocks melted, they left cool, clear pools of water on the barren, rock strewn surface known as kettle ponds.

Initially sterile and lifeless, the kettle ponds quickly began to support plant life on their margins and over the millennia accumulate enough sphagnum moss and dead plant matter to create floating vegetation mats atop the cold water that harbor the diverse array of specialized plant life we see today.  Given enough time these floating bog mats eventually grow to cover the entire surface of the kettle ponds and give rise to trees and shrubs before eventually filling in completely to form swamp forest.  Standing in the muck and swatting mosquitoes under a mature canopy of swamp white oak, red maple, and black ash today would hardly make you think about being over what used to be open water thousands of years ago.

Lucky for us, the bog we visited was far from its fate of reverting back to a forested climax community and was full of all the rare and exciting flora one would expect to see in such a high-quality example.  Luckier still was our timing happened to coincide with the blooming of one of the bog's most spectacular and rare residents in the timeless dragon's mouth orchid (Arethusa bulbosa).

Dragon's Mouth Orchid (Arethusa bulbosa)

Of the nearly 70 species of wild orchids I've encountered in my travels and forays thus far, few if any compare to the mythical appearance and beauty of this orchid.  The magnificent flush of magenta set against the rich greens and yellows of the surrounding bog make this wildflower impossible to overlook and scream out for attention.

A pair of the mythical Arethusa

This delicate wonder is an extremely rare species back here in Ohio, with only one extant site known in a bog in the northeastern part of the state.  There was easily more Arethusa in this one bog in southeastern Michigan than what's left in the entire state of Ohio, which is a sad reality to be sure but beggars can't be choosers and I'm for one thankful we can still claim to have this voluptuous wildflower around.

Dragon's mouth orchid among the poison sumac

Arethusa is one of the most classic orchids of the boreal north and its plentiful sphagnum bog habitat where in some places it comes up like a weed and can turn entire fields of sphagnum bright pink in the early summer.  It typically occurs in the wettest and sunniest parts of any bog and with its fickle personality will quickly disappear if shade and/or a change in the hydrology become permanent fixtures.  There are many common names of plants that make you scratch your head in confusion but this species' name hits the nail on the head as it does invoke visions of dragons and other mythical beasts.  Its genus name of Arethusa is after a beautiful Greek water nymph of the same name.

Arethusa in situ in its bog habitat
Portrait of the beautiful Arethusa






















Unlike many other species of orchids that can have long-lived individual plants, the dragon's mouth orchid is generally quite short-lived and only lasts a handful of years.  Due to this, the species relies heavily on its seed production from year to year to persist in its bog habitat.  Years with late frosts or freezes can be problematic in that endeavor and potentially set any population back in the coming growing seasons.

Royal Fern (Osmunda regalis) beginning to sporulate 

If the dozens of Arethusa is what brought us to the bog, then the countless other rarities and acidophiles is what kept us around and exploring all morning.  Almost all the plants that occurred out on the sphagnum mat were species I hardly ever get to lay eyes on and spend quality time with in the field.  With so little appropriate and intact habitat left for them in Ohio, combined with the fact what is left is on the complete other end of the state from me makes any visit all the more worthwhile.

Bog Birch (Betula pumila)
Bog Willow (Salix pedicellaris)






















Two of the most common shrubby species growing among the dragon's mouth orchids and lively green sphagnum were the aptly-named bog birch (Betula pumila) and bog willow (Salix pedicellaris).  Both are state-listed species back home at the extreme southern limits of their distributions but much more common just a bit further to the north.

Highbush Blueberry (Vaccinium corymbosum)
Poison Sumac (Toxicodendron vernix)






















Two other frequent shrubs to be found on the bog mat could not be further apart of the spectrum of desirability. On one end you have highbush blueberry (Vaccinium corymbosum) ensconced in maturing, delicious blueberries that upon ripening are impossible to keep your hands (and mouth) off of.  On the other is the dreaded poison sumac (Toxicodendron vernix), one of the last things you would want to put your hands on.  Fortunately, I seem to be able to withstand limited exposure to it and its poison ivy (T. radicans) brethren but you can still never be too careful.

Deciduous needles of the Tamarack (Larix laricina)

Perhaps the most quintessential aspect to any true sphagnum bog, other than the sphagnum, is the presence of tamarack (Larix laricina) trees.  These conifers are unique in the fact they have deciduous needles that are shed each fall as if it were a broad-leaved angiosperm.  The rich, golden yellow color they exhibit is nigh on unbeatable, especially when in large stands.

Bill (back) and Todd (front) admiring the wonders of the bog from the rickety boadwalk

A short, rickety boardwalk takes you out into the margins of the floating vegetation mat but even the short distance it goes is enough to carry you into a completely different world from the surrounding swamp forest. Above Bill admires the layout of the bog while Todd makes camera love to some exquisite patches of the carnivorous round-leaved sundew (Drosera rotundifolia).  Other typical bog associates such as bog buckbean (Menyanthes trifoliata), leatherleaf (Chamaedaphne calyculata), bog rosemary (Andromeda polifolia), small cranberry (Vaccinium oxycoccos), large cranberry (V. macrocarpon), marsh fern (Thylepteris palustris), soft-leaved sedge (Carex disperma) prickly bog sedge (C. atlantica), thin-leaved cottonsedge (Eriophorum viridicarinatum), and some spike rushes (Eleocharis spp.) were present at the site as well.

The numerous branching stems of a bladderwort (Utricularia spp.)

Since bogs are naturally nutrient-poor ecosystems, especially in nitrogen and phosphorous, many plants have to resort to other methods to meet their sustenance needs.  A highly-specialized group of plants known as bladderworts (Utricularia spp.) have met that challenge with a taste for flesh in their carnivorous, bug-eating habits.  The long, lacy strands photographed above are the underwater stems of a bladderwort, where tiny sac-like bladders occur and wait for their next meal to swim by.  Each bladder is set under negative pressure and when one of its tiny sensory hairs is triggered by a passing aquatic organism, a trap door is opened and the prey and surrounding water is sucked inside.  This process from trigger to capture all happens in mere thousandths of a second at a nearly microscopic level!

Mud Sedge (Carex limosa)
Creeping Sedge (Carex chordorrhiza)






















Bogs are not only exciting for the number of unusual orchids they harbor but for the wide variety of sedges they contain too.  The mud sedge (Carex limosa) is a handsome little fellow with its dangling infructescence containing light green perigynia contrasted attractively by its dark brown pistillate scales.  Another typical bog associate was the creeping sedge (C. chordorrhiza), named for its long running stolons that send up a single fruiting culm topped with clusters of brown and straw colored perigynia.  To be completely honest, I could do an entire post dedicated to the sedges and Cyperaceae members of bog habitats but I'll let you all off with just these two instead.

Pink Lady's Slipper (Cypripedium acaule)

The aforementioned Arethusa was far from the only orchid species to occur on the floating vegetation mat as a handful of others could be found in varying stages of bud, flower, and fruit.  The pink lady's slippers (Cypripedium acaule) were still hanging on to their blossoms and color on the raised hummocks under the blueberries and poison sumac.  Seeing them grow on a bog mat is quite the change from their typical habitat of dry, acidic pine/oak woods in Ohio and further south.

Large Whorled Pogonia (Isotria verticillata)
Large Whorled Pogonia (Isotria verticillata)






















Speaking of orchids that one only ever sees growing in dry, acidic woodlands, the presence of large whorled pogonias (Isotria verticillata) growing right out of the sphagnum along the shrubbier bog margins was borderline unbelievable as well.  I've read where in the northern reaches of its range it can occur in this very habitat setting but it was still a shock to witness firsthand.  They were all but done flowering and setting to seed but still a wonderful discovery nonetheless.

Northern Pitcher Plant (Sarracenia purpurea)

Stepping back into the theme of carnivorous plants, I'd be remiss if I didn't make mention of the plethora of northern pitcher plants (Sarracenia purpurea) strewn out across the bog mat in spectacular numbers.  Their modified leaves create the "pitcher" that fills with rainwater and acts as drowning basin for any unlucky insect or fly that finds its way inside.  Upon the pitcher's prey's death, the real work begins as the tiny midge, mosquito, and fly larvae that live within the pitcher's water begin to feast on the drowned carcasses.  Their waste and miniscule leftovers sink to the base of the pitcher where its nutrients are subsequently absorbed.  The pitcher's own secreted digestive enzymes help along with the process as well.

Budding stalks of the rare prairie fringed orchid (Platanthera leucophaea)

I'll close with arguably the most intriguing and surprising denizen of all that calls this particular southeastern Michigan bog home.  In a select area of the vegetation mat grows a handful of the federally threatened and very rare prairie fringed orchid (Platanthera leucophaea).  They were just coming up and starting to bud during our foray into the bog but they were there nonetheless and left my mind utterly blown by their presence.  It's one thing to see the pink lady's slippers and large whorled pogonias on the bog mat as they are well known acid-loving plants but the prairie fringed orchid tends to be a more neutral-basic associate of fens, wet prairies/meadows, and marly shorelines.  It just goes to show how the wonders of a bog are nearly endless and you just never know what you're going to find.  I hope to get back up there in a few weeks to catch these in flower, as despite having sites much closer by it's hard to pass up on the opportunity to see them bloom in such an atypical habitat.

Tune back in soon for part two where we leave the acidic bogs behind in favor for the more sweet and alkaline fens and the spectacular flora within.

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Looking Back on an Orchid-filled Year

Your blogger sits at his desk on a unseasonably warm fall afternoon, watching the last of the golden yellow black maple leaves swirl in the breeze out the opened window.  Each fall the tree consistently puts on a spectacular show just outside my door and this year has been no different.  Those few days of prime color and full branches can't be beat but is a sure sign the growing season has come to yet another inevitable close and leaves me with the memories and lingering excitement of the season's experiences.

Going through and organizing all my notes and checklists from the year is the final nail in the coffin for the growing season.  As I sort and compile the final number of vascular plant species I encountered on my botanical forays and romps, all the details are quickly recalled and allow me to reminisce on each outing into my beloved natural world.  Last year (2011) saw over 1,300 species grace my notes with this year falling a bit short of that number with just under 1,200.  That includes exploring all four corners of Ohio, parts of Indiana, Kentucky, Michigan, New York, and West Virginia along with quite a few miles on the Subaru.  The most anticipated and important final tally is of course the members from the Orchidaceae  family.  Likewise with my overall count, this year fell a bit short from the previous season (52) but 47 is still a mighty fine quota if you ask me!

I'd like to share some of my favorite orchid finds and experiences of the year and focus mostly on species that I have not shown on this blog before.  Some are old friends I've seen consecutive years now and never disappoint while others were personal firsts and left me with a lighter life list to chase in the future.  I've said it before but I'll say it again: there is almost nothing better than waiting all that time, getting over all the near misses, and finally making that elusive orchid's acquaintance.  My dream is to make every attempt at finding and photographing every indigenous species of orchid to North America before my time runs out.  I don't expect to ever achieve that goal but I'm more than willing to die trying!


Pink Lady's Slipper  ~  Cypripedium acaule


The season started out fast due to this past spring's hot start.  I can remember temperatures in the low 80's while photographing snow trillium (Trillium nivale) in early March.  Not exactly something one would normally expect but with the way the climate is changing, I fear it's a reality we'll be forced to get used to.  By mid-April the year's first orchids were up and blooming with the pink lady's slippers (Cypripedium acaule) leading the charge.  Despite having seen them more times than just about any orchid I'm still mesmerized by their unique structure and delicate beauty.


Spring Coralroot  ~  Corallorhiza wisteriana


Late April found me hiking the rolling hills of southwestern Ohio for the spring coralroot (Corallorhiza wisteriana) on its mesic lower slopes of deciduous forest.  Certainly much smaller and less noticeable than the pink lady's slipper but still has a charm all its own with its magenta speckled lower lip.


Small White Lady's Slipper  ~  Cypripedium candidum


Early May bestows the lucky few with one of the state's greatest moments and treasures in the small white lady's slippers (Cypripedium candidum).  This miniscule orchid has labellums (pouches) the size of a sparrow's egg and can only be found in an extremely limited number of counties in the state.  These particular plants were photographed in a hanging dolomite-limestone prairie in Adams county.


Shining Ladies'-tresses  ~  Spiranthes lucida


Not long after the small white lady's slippers have come and gone I know it's time to pay a visit to a mucky sedge meadow in nearby Pike county to see the earliest of Ohio's ladies'-tresses orchid to open up its flowers.  Scattered around the muddy seep by the dozens are the unmistakable white and yellow blooms of the shining ladies'-tresses (Spiranthes lucida).  While the Spiranthes  genus can cause some novice wildflower enthusiasts fits, this species is the easiest of all to identify by its spring bloom date and striking yellow throat.


Long-bracted Orchid  ~  Coeloglossum viride


A particular weekend in late May saw your blogger mark off two long-awaited life species in one long, road-weary day.  First up was one that won't win any beauty contests or make the normal person drive three hours to see but I've never claimed to be 'normal', especially when it comes to orchids.  The long-bracted orchid (Coeloglossum viride) is an endangered species in Ohio and one I had never been able to track down or find.  So when a friend suggested a site in northeastern Indiana, I jumped at the chance and was not disappointed in my search.  Even under close inspection its hard to see if the flowers are even open and believe it or not the photograph above shows a plant in full bloom.  The thin yellowish-green lip hanging below a darker green hood of sepals must have given someone the impression of a frog as this plant also goes by the common name of frog orchid.


Dragon's-mouth Orchid  ~  Arethusa bulbosa


Easily the most exciting and memorable of all the new orchid finds this year happened later in the day after coming across the long-bracted orchid above.  Growing in a floating sphagnum bog in southeastern Michigan was the subject of many a day dream and wish I had wanted to see for years on end with no luck.  The dragon's-mouth orchid (Arethusa bulbosa) is in my opinion one of the most stunning and perfectly sculpted wildflowers on earth.  Rising from a small bulb situated in the cold, water-saturated sphagnum below is a solitary bloom with its mythical jaws wide open and vivid pink crown situated above.  Averting one's eyes from its royal and piercing appearance is nigh on impossible, as is making the decision to depart and leave its timeless beauty behind.


Northern Tubercled Orchid  ~  Platanthera flava var. herbiola


Early June found myself ankle deep in mud and surrounded by an impenetrable cloud of mosquitos in the depths of a swamp forest in north-central Ohio.  What I paid for in blood and itchy welts was well worth the price as I looked out across a dense sea of northern tubercled orchid (Platanthera flava var. herbiola).  This small, green orchid gets its name from the small bump or tubercle at the back of the lower lip that is believed to direct its pollinators to one of the two pollinia above.


Lesser Purple Fringed Orchid  ~  Platanthera psycodes


If spring is the time of the Cypripedium  orchids then the summer months are the reign of the Platantheras.  Commonly called the 'fringed' or 'rein' orchids, these large or small wands of many individual flowers rank among the most charming and exquisite of our native wildflowers.  In the later half of June and early July, a few of Ohio's swamp forests are home to the lesser purple fringed orchid (Platanthera psycodes), a potentially-threatened species in our state.  Its dainty, purple inflorescences look like dancing angels under the darkened, murky forest canopy.


E. Prairie Fringed Orchid  ~  Platanthera leucophaea


There's no way I could pass over the chance to see my favorite of our orchids each June; especially when they are so close to my childhood home back in west-central Ohio.  The federally threatened eastern prairie fringed orchid (Platanthera leucophaea) was once more common in the wet meadows, prairies, and shorelines of Ohio and the surrounding great lake states but has been nearly eradicated by man's plow and development.  It really is hard to pick a favorite out of so many good and close friends but I am drawn to this species like none other and really have no specific reason why.  Seeing it in person should be on any botanist or naturalist's bucket list!


Greater Purple Fringed Orchid  ~  Platanthera grandiflora


Sometimes seeing a particular orchid requires one to leave Ohio behind and explore areas outside her borders to find what you're looking for.  One of those species is the greater purple fringed orchid (Platanthera grandiflora), an extirpated species in our state that hasn't graced our soils in nearly a century.  A drive down to the cranberry glades botanical area of West Virginia was just the trick to see this stunner this past late June and proved to be quite the botanical significant day.  I plan to take you along for the trip in its own blog post in the near future.


White Fringed Orchid  ~  Platanthera blephariglottis


July saw me pay a visit to good friend and brilliant naturalist/blogger Jackie in upstate New York.  There she would show me one of my other long-awaited orchid life species: the white fringed orchid (Platanthera blephariglottis).  The huge expanse of grounded black spruce and tamarack sphagnum bog produced many gorgeous plants that I couldn't get enough of.  For a detailed look at this experience you can check out this blog post right here.


Purple Fringeless Orchid  ~  Platanthera peramoena


Upon my return to Ohio from an unforgettable time in the southern Adirondacks, I ventured out not too far from my residence in southeastern Ohio to see another one of nature's floral perfections.  Looking strikingly familiar to the aforementioned greater purple fringed orchid, this is the purple fringeless orchid (Platanthera peramoena).  Take a glance at the lower lip of each individual inflorescence and you'll see the margins are largely entire and do not exhibit any 'fringing', hence its common name.


Cranefly Orchid  ~  Tipularia discolor


Arguably one of southern Ohio's most common species of orchid is also one of the hardest to see in flower.  The cranefly orchid (Tipularia discolor) gets its name from the flower's appearance to dancing craneflies; a large, short-lived type of insect from the Tipulidae  family.  Their greenish-purple racemes of flowers bloom in late summer in the darkened under stories of deciduous forests making for a frustrating experience.  It's best to find and mark these plants in the winter when their over-wintering leaves are visible and frequently encountered, then check back on them in mid-late July to catch them blooming.  The uniform, artificial black background really helps to make this orchid stand out when photographing it.


Grass-leaved Ladies'-tresses  ~  Spiranthes vernalis


You know the orchid season is approaching wrap up time when the Spiranthes  genus starts to really kick into gear.  One of the earliest to show its face is the grass-leaved ladies'-tresses (S. vernalis), a locally frequent species in the southeastern quarter of the state.  Another common name for this orchid is the spring ladies'-tresses due to its ability to flower as early as April in the southern parts of its range.  Since it doesn't bloom until August here in Ohio I see no reason to go by that name here.


Small Ladies'-tresses  ~  Spiranthes tuberosa


One particular species of late-summer flowering orchid isn't all that uncommon but its tiny stature makes it seem impossible to find.  The adequately named small ladies'-tresses (Spiranthes tuberosa) has pure white, crystalized flowers so small you could fit four or five on your pinkie nail alone!  I wish I had my finger in the photo above to show just how small these plants are!


Autumn Coralroot  ~  Corallorhiza odontorhiza


All good times must come to an end and I know the end is nigh when I see the autumn or late coralroot (Corallorhiza odontorhiza) blooming come September and into October.  While some say you save the best for last, I could hardly say that holds true for Ohio's orchids when your last species to bloom are these guys.

2012 was an incredible season for this passionately obsessed botanist and left me only wanting more and extremely hopeful and excited for 2013.  The only thing that gets me through the dark, cold winter months is the promise I get to do this all over again next year.  I'll be here to bring it all to you and hope you follow along as I'm sure there will be more than enough to share!