Showing posts with label Harbinger-of-Spring. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Harbinger-of-Spring. Show all posts

Monday, May 4, 2015

Spring's First Bloomers

The older I get the faster spring and life in general seems to move.  There's just never enough of that precious commodity called time to see and do everything the heart desires each season.  So here I am playing catch up but I figured better late than never, right?  I originally planned to get this published about a month ago so please excuse its tardiness.  With that being said let's travel a few weeks back in time for some early bloomers that have already come and gone.

Ohio Brush Creek valley near its confluence with the Ohio River

Sunny southern Ohio.  There's few places I prefer to ring in the new growing season more than the river counties of Adams and Scioto. It's no coincidence they are featured and/or mentioned time and time again on this blog.  The enormous blocks of contiguous forest and thousands of acres of preserved land make them a prime region to explore.

Exposed limestone bedrock along a small waterway in Adams county

I make many annual pilgrimages to see a bevy of different wildflowers but none carry the same anticipation as the year's first.  The dolomite limestone exposures and rocky bluffs pictured above may seem stuck in their lifeless winter state but looks can be deceiving.

Snow Trillium (Trillium nivale)

Snow Trillium (Trillium nivale)
Snow Trillium (Trillium nivale)


































Freshly emerged snow trillium (Trillium nivale)!  Spring could wake up in any number of ways but its choice of these beauties in select calcareous areas of the state is perfect to me.  Their appearance may seem delicate but snow trillium are tough plants.  It's not uncommon for a late snowfall to coincide with their blooming yet they shrug it off as if it were nothing.

Rare white cedar trees clinging to the limestone rock faces along Scioto Brush Creek

The evergreen glow of the rare northern white cedars (Thuja occidentalis) that line the limestone rock faces are not to be lost in the excitement of the site's snow trillium.  Speaking of tough plants, it's hard to find something with more gravitas or tenacity than these trees.  They can live for centuries in these situations, growing millimeter by millimeter and attaining gnarled, bonsai-like forms.

Harbinger-of-Spring (Erigenia bulbosa)

Harbinger-of-spring (Erigena bulbosa) may be in fruit and disappearing until next spring as I type this but they were in their prime during this particular foray.

Sharp-lobed Hepatica (Anenome acutiloba)

As were the sharp-lobed hepatica (Anenome acutiloba) in their various shades of whites, creams, lavenders and blue.  I'm curious to know what causes such a wide range of expressed phenotypes in this species.  Genetics, soil/nutrients, age or perhaps a combination of the three?

Little Whitlow-grass (Draba brachycarpa)

Little Whitlow-grass (Draba brachycarpa)
Little Whitlow-grass (Draba brachycarpa)


































The rare and unusual is always of interest to me.  I can and do appreciate the common day-to-day things but the out of the ordinary is a spice I crave.  The little whitlow-grass (Draba brachycarpa) is as rare as it is unusual here in Ohio. It only grows in a couple sites along the Ohio River; both old cemeteries on perched sand ridges.  It's a charming little flower when viewed at high magnification; many plants only end up measuring an inch or two tall.

Prickly Pear Cactus (Opuntia humifusa)

Growing in the same sandy soil as the little whitlow-grass is Ohio's very own native cactus, the eastern prickly pear (Opuntia humifusa). Their pads were looking a bit beat up from the harsh winter but come June they'll dazzle the eyes with large, honey yellow flowers.  The reaction of folks  hearing for the first time we do indeed have an indigenous species of cactus is one of my favorites.

White Trout-lily (Erythronium albidum)
White Trout-lily (Erythronium albidum)


































Trout-lilies were one of the first wildflowers I fell for during my early years.  They always seem to need a self-esteem boost with their shy, drooping flowers.

Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis)

Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis)
Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis)


































The beauty of spring is one fleeting moment after another and few moments seem to pass faster than the bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis).  Each flower's whorl of snow-white petals only last for a day or two before dropping at the slightest touch or breeze. Their underground rhizomes can spread in favorable conditions, creating impressive colonies of delicate flowers and their unique leaves.

Goldenstar-lily (Erythronium rostratum)
Goldenstar-lily (Erythronium rostratum)


































It's not just the white trout-lilies from earlier on that have such demure personalities but just about every other North American Erythronium species too.  Only the goldenstar-lily (E. rostratum) exhibits unwavering confidence and shows off their flowers for all the world to see.  Their golden blooms are held erect on the stem and only unfurl their stunning tepals in the sunniest of conditions.


Goldenstar-lily (Erythronium rostratum) with eight tepals instead of six
Goldenstar-lily (Erythronium rostratum) just about to wake up





Goldenstar-lilies also happen to be one of our most rare wildflowers in Ohio and are currently listed as endangered within the state. They are only known to occur in select areas of Adams and Scioto counties; all within the watershed of Rocky Fork Creek too.

Deer Tick

While photographing the goldenstar-lilies under a brilliant sapphire sky, I happened to notice a small black speck slowly making its way up my pant's leg.  I knew it was a tick but which of the three species one can find in southern Ohio would it be?  Unfortunately, the orange "butt" of this particular one gave it away as the dreaded deer tick or black-legged tick (Ixodes scapularis).  Unlike the dog tick (Dermacentor variabilis) or the lone star tick (Amblyomma americanum), deer ticks are a carrier/transmitter of Lyme disease among a host of other nasty diseases.  Just a few years ago I almost never picked deer ticks off me but nowadays them seem to be outnumbering dog and lone stars more and more.  All the more reason to keep an eye out and be ever-vigilant!

A trio of goldenstar-lilies in all their early spring glory

It's hard to believe these wonderful wildflowers have already done their duties and been replaced with maturing seed pods.  Another spring already well underway with many aspects left to wait nearly another year to see once again.  I hope to catch up on more of spring's activity as I find the time but even so I could never adequately represent what spring coming to southern Ohio entails.  Some things are best left to speak for themselves and Mother Nature is definitively that.

- ALG - 

Monday, April 15, 2013

Ohio's Spring Gold Rush


Rich wooded slopes of a diverse mixed mesophytic woodland

Each and every spring around this time of year a particular brand of anxiousness and excitement invades the mind of this blogger in anticipation for Ohio's very own gold rush.  Only the reward isn't the increasingly rare natural element we humans have placed so much curious value in, but rather the presence of one of our state's most rare and absolutely spectacular of spring ephemerals: the goldenstar-lily (Erythronium rostratum).


Goldenstar-lily (Erythronium rostratum)

With the warmth of spring finally settling into the Ohio river valley and sunny skies on the docket, I decided it was now or never to head down south into Scioto county to see if luck and timing was to be in my favor.  The luminous goldenstars only grace the re-awakening woodland landscape for a very short time and once that window of opportunity slams shut it's a long wait for their reappearance the following spring.


Goldenstar-lily (Erythronium rostratum)
Goldenstar-lily (Erythronium rostratum)






















My stomach knotted a bit as my car turned onto the secluded back road that winded along the stretch of Rocky Fork Creek that had long been known to harbor these great rarities.  After famed and brilliant Ohio botanist/ecologist Lucy Braun's chance discovery of these delicate beauties back in 1963, it would be nearly 50 years before a new population outside this specific watershed would be discovered.  As fate would have it, I happened to be along for the ride the day this serendipitous uncovering was made and I documented it HERE back in the spring of 2011.


Goldenstar-lily (Erythronium rostratum)

With my car slowed to a crawl and nervous eyes fixated on the forested roadside and lower slopes of the mixed-mesophytic woodland, I waited for any flash of unmistakable golden yellow to catch my attention.  Suddenly one appeared, then two and three, and like the flood waters of a compromised levee, dozens and dozens began to spill into view.  Their dazzling tepals were spread wide open, attempting to catch every ray of sunlight radiating down from the naked canopy above.  While our other species of Erythronium droop and nod during antithesis like a shy introvert, the same cannot be said of the goldenstar.  It seems to know its beauty and authority is second to none. In a show of strength, its peduncles hold the flowers aloft to proudly gaze at the heavens above.


Distribution map of Erythronium rostratum (courtesy BONAP)

Taking a glance at the range map of the goldenstar it becomes noticeable that this peculiar plant is not only interesting for its looks but its natural range(s) as well.  Here in Ohio, the species is at the northernmost fringe of its predominately southern distribution and a part of one of three distinct population clusters.  I wonder what caused the goldenstar-lily to occur in three divergent, different sized zones?


Mixed-mesophytic forest home of the goldenstar-lilies

Even without the hundreds of vibrant yellow faces of the goldenstars it wouldn't have been too hard to conclude spring had arrived under the beech, tuliptrees, and oak.  A number of other spring wildflowers were beginning to glance out from under the decaying leaf litter as the evergreen fronds of Christmas fern (Polystichum acrostichoides) relinquished their monopoly of the color green.


Harbinger-of-spring (Erigenia bulbosa)
Awakening bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis)






















Other associate plant species were in bloom or bud throughout the mesic slopes such as: slender toothwort (Cardamine angustata), spring beauties (Claytonia virginica), harbinger-of-spring (Erigenia bulbosa), bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis), early bluegrass (Poa cuspidata), and wood rush (Luzula echinata).


Wild Leeks (Allium tricoccum)
Hillside full of emerging wild leeks






















Easily the most noticeable part of the greening landscape was the mass emergence of thousands of wild leeks (Allium tricoccum) from their subterranean homes.  Their bulbs have long been a popular spring vegetable and onion substitute for foragers and go amazing with the soon-to-arrive morel mushrooms!  Their leaves soon wither away and disappear completely before the plant flowers in the deep shade of the summer woods.


Goldenstar-lily (Erythronium rostratum)

While I typically prefer overcast days for wildflower photography to best balance out the shadows and contrast, one really must catch the goldenstar-lilies on days of full sun.  Their sensitive flowers quickly close under cloud cover and are a far cry from the full potential these specimens photographed are boasting.


Goldenstar-lily (Erythronium rostratum)
Just waking up






















There's been many occasions where timing has provided your blogger with moments of fleeting to severe frustration.  There are few things worse than driving long distances to find wildflowers just about to bloom or just past peak and beginning to set seed.  Fortunately, that was hardly the case this time around and I was able to enjoy a full afternoon pleasantly spent in the company of one of Ohio's most remarkable and fervent of spring ephemerals.  I image as I sit down and write this all the flowers shown in these pictures have done their job and are now featuring their characteristic beaked fruit capsule.  With any luck the seeds within will be viable and help to ensure these wonderful plants are around for years and generations to come.  I'm already looking forward to next year's gold rush and the bounty of goldenstars that await!

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Early Bloomers at Clifton Gorge State Nature Preserve

I think it's safe to say spring has finally arrived after thoroughly taking its sweet time all through the month of March.  It's quite a breath of fresh air to read the expanded weather forecast and see highs in the upper 50's and 60's for the foreseeable future.  Those seemingly endless weeks of chilled temperatures and spotty snow showers have finally come to an end.

This past weekend saw your blogger return home to west-central Ohio from the hills and hollers of the southeast to spend the Easter holiday with family.  In typical fashion I spent some of my free time taking advantage of the nearby botanical attractions.  I knew with the newly minted warmer temperatures and weather the flora was sure to still be a bit lethargic in waking up but some early bloomers could still be expected breaking through the thawed soil.

Little Miami River flowing through the deep limestone gorges at Clifton Gorge

One of the best stations for early wildflower viewing accompanied with a healthy dose of impressive geologic formations is Clifton Gorge state nature preserve just outside Yellow Springs.  The state and national scenic Little Miami River flows through a stunning stretch of deep dolomite limestone gorge cut during the waning periods of the last glacial epoch and creates some spectacular views.

White cedars growing directly out of the gorge's limestone cliff walls

The resulting geologic features have created a microclimate able to sustain the cool, moist conditons needed for many of the rare and unusual disjunct northern plant species that still reside within the canyon walls.  A walk along the river during the winter and early spring months easily shows off the many evergreen eastern hemlocks (Tsuga canadensis) and northern white cedars (Thuja occidentalis) that grace the limestone cliff faces and lower slopes.  Other interesting northern species such as red baneberry (Actaea rubra), Canada yew (Taxus canadensis), and mountain maple (Acer spicatum) persist in the unique climate as well.

Maidenhair spleenwort fern
Carex plantaginea sending up flowering culms






















The tiny, delicate fronds of the maidenhair spleenwort (Asplenium trichomanes) is rather out of place in this area of the state but is right at home on its favored habitat of moss-covered limestone boulders and rock slumps in the shadows of the gorge.  Another 'evergreen' plant not typical of west-central Ohio is the conspicuous clumps of plantain-leaved sedge (Carex plantaginea) persisting alongside the maidenhair spleenwort fern on the cool, moist, soil-covered rocks.  Many of them were welcoming the more spring-like temperatures by sending up their flowering culms; ensuring their presence in the limestone chasm would continue on in the next generation.

Harbinger-of-spring (Erigenia bulbosa) in full, albeit tiny bloom

One of the surest signs of spring's arrival is the diminutive appearance of the aptly-named harbinger-of-spring (Erigenia bulbosa).  Bravely facing the frost-prone mornings, this dainty wonder proudly displays its charming flowers for the season's first insects.  It can also go by the common name of salt-and-pepper for its contrasting white petals and purple-turning black anthers.  It's certainly an easy wildflower to pass over but those with a keen eye can take pleasure in its early-spring charisma.

Sessile trillium just about to break bud
Sharp-lobed hepatica (Anenome americana)






















It wouldn't truly be spring here in the Midwest without the abundance of sharp-lobed hepatica (Anenome americana) breaking bud and painting over winter's browns and greys with their endless shades of white, pink, purple, and blue.  The attractive mottled leaves of the sessile trillium (Trillium sessile) accompanied the surrounding hepaticas but were still a few days away from breaking bud.  I've always admired them more for their leaves than flowers anyway; which is not something that can really be said for any other species of Ohio trillium.

Red and white cedars precariously clinging to the cliff's edges

Much like the white and red cedars of Adams county fame, Clifton gorge has its own accompaniment of trees clinging precariously to the limestone cliff's edges and sheer walls.  Growing right out of crevices and gaps in the rock, the white (Thuja occidentalis) and red cedars (Juniperus virginiana) grow excruciatingly slow and are much older than their size would suggest.  This nearly-stagnant growth pattern also allows them to attain unique, gnarled forms of a strangely artistic appearance.

Snow trillium (Trillium nivale)

One of the gorge's most hallowed and anticipated of wildflower denizens are those ever-so-popular and beloved snow trillium (Trillium nivale).  The shallow, limestone gravel-derived soils at the base of the cliff faces are the perfect set up for this early bloomer to thrive in.

How many trillium can you see?
Snow trillium (Trillium nivale)






















I shared their awakening in the similarly-situated limestone gorge of Fort Hill in my last post but I don't think anyone could ever truly tire of seeing these floral wonders.  There's just something to be admired and said about the year's first showy and magnificent wildflower.  All those chills and long months of winter instantly melt away from your heart and soul at the very sight of these as they peak out their heads from the decaying leaf litter.

Snow trillium (Trillium nivale)

It's a bit bittersweet for me to have one of my absolute favorite wildflowers be one of the very first out the gate each season.  I can't think of a more anticipated and welcoming sign that spring is here once again and the avalanche of blooming wildflowers has only just begun, but at the same time it's sad to know it will be another year before I get to sit down and catch up with these close acquaintances.  In a weird way it makes me question and ponder my own mortality.  How many more chances will I have to spend time in their presence before its time to return my bones back to the earth?  It certainly gives every waking moment with them and in the great outdoors in general a great deal of value.  Why I always encourage everyone to get outside and breath in the fresh air as much as they can.  Sure, the natural world will always be there to enjoy but unfortunately the same cannot be said for our mortal selves.

White cedars lining a long-fallen limestone boulder along the banks of the Little Miami River

Once through the narrow limestone gauntlet of the gorge, the water slows itself to a much more calm pace and slowly meanders its way downstream.  Without the protection of the precipitous canyon walls the microclimate quickly dissipates and with it goes the unusual plant species/communities.  I'm very thankful for the souls who had the wisdom and mind for conservation to protect this incredible place early on from the stain and reckless behavior of mankind.  It's a great deal of comfort to me knowing that whenever I want to experience arguably the finest inter/post-glacial limestone gorge in the entire state it's always there with open arms.