Top Ten Life Plants of 2014

Ah.  It's good to hear the clack of the keyboard again.  I'd like to apologize for the lack of activity on here the past few months. Lately too many things have come together to steal my attention and free time but rest assured your blogger is alive and well.  I'm still as busy as ever but hope to manage and keep a presence on here until the less burdened summer months return.  Regardless, it's nice to get something fresh out there for those who have anxiously awaited a new post.  In a perfect world I would have had this post written and published around the turn of the new year but better late than never, right?

The 2014 field season was one to remember for your narrator.  There's never enough time to see and do everything on your list during a calendar year but then that's what makes each and every new experience you do have all the more enduring.  For a botanist, or at least this botanist, one of the most rewarding tasks at the conclusion of a growing season is updating the life list.  As time goes on and I become more and more acquainted with my local and regional flora, the frequencies of making new floral friends decreases.  This makes each additional life species marked off the list feel just a bit more gratifying than the last.

With that being said, I'd like to reminisce on my personal top ten favorite "lifers" from 2014's botanical forays. It was not an easy task to achieve, believe me.  Many worthy contenders just couldn't make the last cut.  All ten plants were species I'd never had the pleasure of seeing in the flesh before; many only dreamily through a computer monitor.  Some I specifically set out to see, others I came across by complete chance.  If you're a regular reader of my blog, you might recognize a number of the forthcoming plants; some just deserve their own separate 15 minutes of fame at the time.

#10  -  Long Beech Fern (Phegopteris connectilis)

Number ten takes me back to the Hocking Hills this past June.  As a field botanist for the Ohio Division of Natural Areas and Preserves, my job sees me work with hundreds of our state's rare plant species.  Surveying, monitoring and managing their occurrences is a large component of that work and is what had me finally face to face with the state-rare long beech fern (Phegopteris connectilis).  Typically found further to the north, it manages to persist in a rather disjunct fashion in the Hocking Hill's more secluded cool, moist hollows.  It looks strikingly similar to its close relative (and much more common) broad beech fern (P. hexagonoptera).  Looking at the bottom pair of pinnae helps separate the two: long beech's rachis between the bottom two pairs of pinnae lacks any wings; while broad beech's rachis is winged between every pair of pinnae.  

#9  -  Catesby's Trillium (Trillium catesbaei)

The mountains of northern Georgia produced dozens of new lifers during my visit in mid May, and I don't think much of anything impressed more than the trillium.  If I had to play favorites of the four-five new species I encountered, Catesby's trillium (T. catesbaei) will do nicely.  To see and read more on the other lifers from this trip you can check out this link right here.  There's still more to come on this list from Georgia though.

#8  -  Limestone Adder's Tongue Fern (Ophioglossum engelmannii)

If you didn't already know what you were looking at, number eight might have you thinking little green ogres had been buried up to their ears.  This alien-looking organism is actually a species of fern known as limestone adder's tongue (Ophioglossum engelmannii) and is quite rare in our state.  In fact, it's only known to occur in a handful of limestone barrens and glades in Adams county and that's it.  The spore-containing fertile frond was thought to resemble a snake's tongue, hence the common name of adder's tongue fern for this genus.

#7  -  Rough Boneset (Eupatorium pilosum)

Lifer number seven has the distinction of being a very, very new lifer for any Ohio botanist, well their state list anyway.  Rough boneset (Eupatorium pilosum) was never known from our state until late summer 2013, when exceptional field botanist and good friend, Brian Riley discovered it growing (apparently) wild in Athens county. Come August 2014, Brian led your blogger and a few other distinguished Ohio botanists to the sites to discuss its native status.  After weighing and debating the topic we concluded it was very likely a natural occurrence and not an intentional (or accidental) introduction.  Just another excellent find by Brian!  For a more detailed account on our day with the rough boneset, you can check out Jim McCormac's post here.

#6  -  Bradley's Spleenwort (Asplenium bradleyi)

Here we are halfway through the countdown and we're on fern species number three.  Needless to say, they've recently become a bit of a hot topic for me and one I put more focus into studying during the 2014 field season. Bradley's spleenwort (Asplenium bradleyi) is one I'm quite pleased to finally have a check mark next to as it's arguably one of Ohio's rarest pteridophytes.  Listed as endangered, it's only known to occur in a handful of sites in southeastern Ohio, often on sheer, inaccessible sandstone rock faces.  That type of habitat niche made getting a photo of even a single fertile frond or two difficult and involved a bit of free hand rock climbing.

#5  -  Swamp Valerian (Valeriana uliginosa)

As I  alluded to earlier, some great plant finds come out of nowhere and catch you by complete surprise.  Those are the ones that are even harder to forget.  Enter life plant number five in the absolutely stunning swamp valerian (Valeriana uliginosa).  While wading through a sprawling fen meadow in southeast Michigan last June, my botanical cohorts and I came across a scattering of these snow white-capped flowers and despite never seeing them before it clicked almost instantly what they were.  Swamp valerian was a plant I'd only ever dreamed of seeing and wasn't sure where, if or when I'd ever get to mark it off the list.  It was only known from a single site in northeast Ohio and hasn't been seen since the end of the 19th century.  For more on this species and the other botanical goodies within its remarkable fen, you can check out this link here.

#4  -  Venus Flytrap (Dionaea muscipula)

In terms of new species added to the life list in 2014, nothing came close to my time on the Florida panhandle. I could have just as easily made this entire list out of Florida flora but I did my best to refrain from such a biased approach.  Of the hundreds of lifers I encountered in the swamps and pine lands of the panhandle, the fabled Venus fly trap (Dionaea muscipula) was the most anticipated. The plants were admittedly planted at the site I knew about decades ago and have persisted in the boggy habitat but that did little to take away from the experience.  For more photos of the fly traps and their other bog associate denizens you can check out this link here.

#3  -  Sweet Pinesap (Monotropsis odorata)

Most wildflowers people remember with their sense of vision.  The same could be said for lifer number three but I personally will always recall them most fondly with my olfactories.  Sweet pinesap (Monotropsis odorata) was the target of a late April excursion to the Red River Gorge of Kentucky, with the motto being, "follow your nose!".  Sweet pinesap gets its name from the intoxicating aroma emitted from its perfectly purple flowers.  I've never smelled anything more enchanting than these oddities and in fact smelled their presence before visually locating them.  For more photos and info on this trip and these odorous wonders you can follow this link.

#2  -  Pine Lily (Lilium catesbaei)

We're down to the two biggest plant finds of my 2014 and it's back to the hot and steamy confines of the Florida panhandle.  After my time with the Venus fly traps, I decided to explore the nearby depths of Apalachicola National Forest's longleaf pine savannas. Gazing out across their open expanses of graminoids and pitcher plants invoked feelings of nirvana and utter tranquility.  The cherry on top of the savanna sundae was stumbling across lifer number two dotting the seas of green with their fire orange-red tepals.  I adore lilies but had no idea just how much until the pine lily (Lilium catesbaei).  Much like the aforementioned swamp valerian, I hadn't even considered encountering such a remarkable wildflower but am overjoyed that I did.  There wasn't much else to compare the feeling of their discovery to except for the last species left.

#1  -  Small Whorled Pogonia (Isotria medeoloides)

If you know me and you read this blog, it probably isn't hard to surmise that my number one life plant from 2014 was hands down, no contest, how-could-it-not-be the federally threatened small whorled pogonia (Isotria medeoloides).  I made the 500+ mile trek to Chattahoochee National Forest in the mountains of northern Georgia last May to specifically see this most elusive orchid.  Many might wonder why a small, bland and green "if you can even call it a flower" would illicit such a strong reaction from me, and honestly I might ask myself the same.  Its genuine distribution-wide rarity, sporadic and poorly understood life cycle, and mythic nature all combine to make it an arduous chase.  I could go on and on about this particular experience and plant but I'll leave that up to you. An entire post dedicated to this little green blob can be found here.

I hope you enjoyed this retrospective look at my favorite field finds of 2014.  Perhaps one of these made your life list last year? Maybe one of these will be a target for your 2015?  I look forward to bringing you more botanical forays and treatments in 2015 and know I have a lot of catching up to do from years past.  So stay warm and dream of spring!  The snow trillium and hepaticas will be out before we know it.

~ALG~

Botanizing the Florida Panhandle: Apalachicola National Forest Part 1

*Part I* *Part II* *Part III* *Part IV*

I'm back and ready to move forward with my botanical foray into the wonders of the Florida panhandle!  If you caught my first post in this series on Hosford Bog and its insectivorous denizens, thanks for coming back for more. If you didn't get the chance to read up on one of the most fascinating sites I've ever stepped foot in, please don't hesitate to give it a read by following this link here.

After visiting the bog and spending all morning with the white pitcher plants and Venus fly traps, I hopped back into the car and headed due south into the vast expanse of Apalachicola National Forest.  At over 500,000 acres in size, it's the largest national forest in the entire state of Florida and home to a wide diversity of habitats, flora and fauna.  Being so large and having no prior experience with the region, I went into the foray more or less blind and with little to no expectations on what I might encounter.  Much like my attitude at Hosford Bog, I figured just about anything and everything would have me wide-eyed in wonder and botanical bliss.

*Due to the breadth of items I'd like to share from my time in Apalachicola, I'm breaking this post into two parts to keep things from getting too long and overwhelming.  I figured two shorter posts would be easier to digest than one exceptionally long one; which we all know I'm capable of doing!

Wide open expanse of longleaf pine savanna full of pitcher plants and other oddities

My route initially took me through the heart of some impressive longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) sandhills and woodlands ensconced in a mosaic of bright wildflowers.  Mile after mile passed with the scenery getting more and more impressive before I finally broke out of the pines and into one of the most stunning landscapes I'd ever laid eyes on.  Apalachicola is known for its extensive tracts of longleaf pine savanna and the first one I came upon could not have given a better first impression.

Lovely patch of yellow pitcher plants (Sarracenia flava)

The savannas and their vast openness of grasses and sedges were sparsely dotted with lone longleaf pine saplings or the occasional woody shrub and in exceptional cases littered with large clumps of yellow pitcher plants (Sarracenia flava).  I'd passed countless instances of the pitcher plants on the drive through Apalachicola, but seeing them at 55 miles per hour through the window is apples to the oranges of seeing them in all their glory before you...and in this case oranges are definitely better than apples.

Yellow Pitcher Plant (Sarracenia flava)

The yellow pitcher plant is one of the most frequently encountered of the Southeast's Sarracenia taxa and can come in all sorts of yellow-to-red color schemes and/or naturally-occurring hybrids.  Their tall golden pitchers are conspicuously topped by a lip called an operculum, which acts as an umbrella of sorts and prevents excess rainwater from diluting the pitcher's digestive secretions and enzymes within.

Pine Lily (Lilium catesbaei) on the savanna

I decided to wade deeper into the savanna's sea of grasses and gluttony of beak-sedges (Rhynchospora spp.) to see what other oddities were hidden within.  Before too long my squinted eyes (that Florida sun is bright!) spotted isolated blotches of vivid red-orange peaking above the surrounding vegetation.  I picked up the pace and found my heart stuck in my throat as the mesmerizing pine lily (Lilium catesbaei) materialized before me.  I meant what I said above on not having any sincere expectations of what was waiting inside Apalachicola, and never in a million years did I think these would end up on the menu.

Pine Lily (Lilium catesbaei) in all their glory 

The presence of the pine lilies sealed the fact this savanna was one of exceptional quality and management.  Once a much more common sight throughout the state, pine lilies rapidly disappeared as their habitat niche of open, sunny habitats on wet acidic soil dwindled due to development and habitat maturation/degradation and are currently listed as a threatened species.  Their presence is intimately tied to a landscape's fire regime and its frequency.  These pine sandhills and open savanna ecosystems evolved with fire playing an integral part in its health and structure.  Fire kept excess woody encroachment in the understory at bay and allowed the grasses, sedges and sun-loving forbs like the pine lily to thrive.

What is more lovely than a fire-red pair of the rare pine lily...

The intensity and saturation of the fire-red lilies was unlike anything your blogger can recall seeing before. Perhaps the harsh Florida sun and stifling humidity were playing tricks on me but their glow on the savanna had me speechless and utterly entranced in their beauty.  It's fair to admit these were the highlight find of my foray into the Florida panhandle.

Bartram's Marsh Pink (Sabatia bartramii)

Bartram's Marsh Pink (Sabatia bartramii)

One of the pieces to the aforementioned mosaic of wildflowers along the roadsides was the dazzlingly pink Bartram's marsh-pink (Sabatia bartramii).  Taking a gander at the reproductive parts at the center of the flower, I was immediately reminded of Ohio's own rose pink (S. angularis) but then taken aback by the number of petals on the Florida specimen.  Turns out that despite the difference in flower part numbers both are relatives and reside in the same genus.  It's rewarding to be able to use one's botanical knowledge from home to help unravel the floral mysteries of afar.

More treeless savanna in Apalachicola National Forest

The magnitude of Apalachicola National Forest accompanied with my iPhone saying "no service" really drove home the feeling of seclusion and isolation while in its depths.  If not for the two lanes of asphalt, I'd have sworn I drove through a wormhole to a time in the distant past.  A great deal of my time is sought searching out tiny pieces of the massive puzzle that is the natural world and a great deal of my emotions are tied up in the success and/or failures of that search.  But the most influential and memorable moments and experiences have always been the feeling of complete and unspoiled solitude.  A landscape bereft of the stains and markings of humanity, whether they be sights, sounds, or smells.  Just me, myself, and I and the giant ensemble of Mother Nature.  I don't have that specific feeling of euphoria very often and cherish it when I do, and believe me when I say the longleaf pine savannas of Apalachicola gave me chills and had the hair on my arms and neck standing up in awe.

Parrot Pitcher Plant (Sarracenia psittacina)

The savanna's masses of yellow pitcher plants were certainly the easiest to find and pick out but they weren't the only ones around.  Often nestled right at the yellow's feet were patches of parrot pitcher plant (Sarracenia psittacina).  This species utilizes a rather unique technique of trapping its prey by means of false exits and dead ends rather than simply falling in and drowning.  Its insect prey is attracted to the small opening at the top and lured inside by the smell and promise of nectar.  Once finding out it was gypped, the insect is tricked into crawling further down the pitcher by changes in light intensity, thinking it represents a way out.  Unfortunately, that's not the case and before long the insect enters the base chamber of the pitcher and with the aid of dense, stiff hairs cannot get out and is slowly digested in the enzymes secreted within.

Parrot pitcher plants in bloom

Foxtail Bog Clubmoss (Lycopodiella alopecuroides)

Apart from the related California pitcher plant or cobra lily (Darlingtonia californica), no other Sarracenia exhibits the same kind of entrapment technique of the parrot pitcher plant.  They were still blooming nicely during my visit too, while most other species were all but done.  Nearly as strange as the pitcher plants and almost always growing right alongside it was a lycopod on steroids in the foxtail bog clubmoss (Lycopodiella alopecuroides).  This fern-ally belongs to a division of plants that are among the oldest and most primitive species still around with their first ancestors showing up over 400 million years ago.

Sandswamp White-topped Beak-sedge (Rhynchospora latifolia)

It's not everyday you're driving down the road and see countless conspicuous specks of white that you assuredly assume are a wildflower, only to find out are actually a sedge!  As much as I love sedges, Ohio doesn't exactly have any that even the most novice of nature-goers can easily spot at highway speeds.  The sandswamp white-topped beak-sedge (Rhynchospora latifolia) has taken a card from plants like poinsettias and Indian paintbrushes (Castilleja spp.) with its snow-white foliaceous bracts.  While they appear like petals or flower parts, they are merely specialized leaves and typically play a role in pollinator attraction.  However, beak-sedges are wind pollinated, so it's interesting they would bother with being so showy.

Thistle-leaved Aster (Eurybia eryngiifolia)

Speaking of showy white plants, another one of my favorite finds out on the savannas was the nearly Florida panhandle endemic thistle-leaved aster (Eurybia eryngiifolia).  It's a bit of an odd name considering its epithet of eryngiifolia is in relation to the plant's leaves that look a lot like rattlesnake master (Eryngium yuccifolium).  I found its involucre's spiny phyllaries to be particularly attractive.

Thistle-leaved Aster (Eurybia eryngiifolia)

Thistle-leaved aster has a very narrow geographic distribution and is only found in high-quality open pine savannas in the central panhandle and in only a few select sites in extreme southern Alabama and Georgia.  That makes it a species worth noting and enjoying not only for its physical beauty but its global rarity and vulnerability as well.

Spurred Butterfly Pea (Centrosema virginianum)

Tucked away in the understory was a trailing vine I recognized as the spurred butterfly pea (Centrosema virginianum), a widespread species of the Southeast and quite similar to the Ohio rarity butterfly pea (Clitoria mariana).  A striking species I wish was able to call Ohio home.  I ended up seeing quite a bit of it during my time in Apalachicola and was thankful for each and every one I saw.

Saw palmetto (Serenoa repens) under the longleaf pines (Pinus palustris)

Had I run this post in its entirety we'd barely be at the halfway point, so I think here is as fine a place to pause as any.  I hope you've enjoyed what you've seen so far and are looking forward to more.  Apalachicola National Forest isn't done just yet!

*Part I* *Part II* *Part III* *Part IV*