The Buckeye Botanist

Thursday, February 1, 2018

Top Ten Life Plants of 2017

Better late than never! That's become the theme of this blog the last few years. I always pondered why some of my favorite nature blogger's work waned so much years ago and I've come to find out for myself just how quickly and easily it happens. Life gets busy...and busier, and busier! However, it doesn't get so busy that I can't manage to sit down and write up what's come to be a yearly favorite of mine. My annual look back on the past year's top ten life plants! Additionally, it's a superb way to reminisce on a growing season's worth of adventure and discovery.

2017 was an eventful year with exciting happenings both in my home state of Ohio and outside her borders. My work as a field botanist with the Ohio Division of Natural Areas & Preserves kept me busier than ever with some noteworthy discoveries. I also made treks out to southern Illinois and eastern Missouri to visit a close botany buddy of mine; as well as up to Michigan and the Upper Peninsula. Both trips provided some unforgettable botanical moments and finds, some of which will be proudly featured here. It is especially nice to see Ohio represented on my top ten life plants list again, as over the last couple years substantial lifers in my home region have been hard to come by.

I will say that I've become a bit of a lazy botanical photographer these days and rely heavily, really almost solely on my iPhone as a camera. It takes wonderful photos and just about every single one featured in this post was shot with it. However, when viewed so large and in closer detail the images are a bit lackluster to my nitpicky self. So for those with as high a standards as me, I apologize for some photos not being as up to snuff.

All that being said, let's begin the countdown of my favorite life plants from a memorable spring, summer, and fall of botanizing throughout the Midwest.

My botanical cohort and good friend/mentor, Dan Boone at the site of life plant #10

Starting things off is a look back to late June and an especially gorgeous summer day spent within one of Ohio's most spectacular remnant grasslands. It was at this location that I finally made acquaintances with an uncommon Asteraceae member that had evaded my life list for quite some time and comes in at #10.

#10 - Pasture Thistle (Cirsium pumilum)

Pasture thistle (Cirsium pumilum) isn't what I would call rare in Ohio, but it certainly isn't common either. With most of its occurrences residing up in the northeast and eastern portions of the state, I wasn't likely to see any of it in my normal haunts in the southeast and southern reaches. It's curious it occurs at all at this particular site in south-central Ohio, but I'm forever thankful it does. Pasture thistle never gets very tall and can be a pain to see but for its stunning purple composite flowerhead. Sadly, each individual plant only gets one opportunity to show off its thistle-licious (yes, I just made that word up) flowers. Like some of its other thistle kin, this species is monocarpic, meaning it only flowers once and subsequently dies. My visit to this site was at the tail end of its blooming cycle and many plants were already dispersing their seeds on the wind. Thankfully, a lucky few were still in photogenic shape and allowed them to just make the cut!

#9 - Cut-leaved Water Parsnip (Berula erecta)

The criteria for how a plant makes this most esteemed of lists is much more than physical beauty. Some plants I find too curious, unique, and/or rare to not feel extra special about finding them. Life plant #9 fits that mold just right! The cut-leaved water parsnip (Berula erecta) is a small member of the carrot family (Apiaceae) I was lucky enough to spot while up in Michigan back in mid-July. It's much more common out West but quite rare east of the Mississippi River. It's at its easternmost and disjunct stations in Michigan and subsequently listed as a state-threatened species [S2]. It is only known to occur in about a dozen counties along Lake Michigan, where it grows in the specific habitats of cold headwater streams and seeps. This particular population was just beginning to flower in a tiny, freezing-cold spring-fed brook flowing through a white cedar swamp.

The incredible surroundings of a secluded kettle lake with surrounding bog mat in the eastern UP of Michigan

For life plant #8 let's hang around in Michigan but move further north into the Upper Peninsula. While there's not much going on in many people's eyes, the UP is heaven of earth for a botanist like me. I sincerely hope to deliver a post or three about my experiences up there and the insanity of treasures that came with it, but for now let's focus on one specific plant. A secluded and rarely visited kettle lake my friends and I visited contained the most intact and diverse floating bog mat I've ever stepped foot on. Orchids and sedges galore but the plant I was most honored to see was a teeny, tiny little rush...

#8 - Moor Rush (Juncus stygius)

What the moor rush (Juncus stygius) may lack in beauty, size, and well, interest for many folks it more than makes up for in rarity and peculiarity. This cute little graminoid is one of Michigan's more endangered plant species and currently known from less than ten extant sites. It also happens to be an overall rarity within the United States. Also known as bog rush, it's a circumboreal species found throughout the northern hemisphere but scarcely makes it south of boreal Canada in North America. Michigan's UP, Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Maine are the only extant states for it and it's damn rare in all them, too. This rush's white flower, poorly photographed in the left photo above, is actually quite showy for a Juncus when seen perfectly opened. Its capsules have a pleasing aesthetic to them as well. Sure, it's not much to look for you but to a rare plant junkie and grami-nerd like myself it's botanical royalty!

#7a - Broad-lipped Twayblade (Neottia convallarioides)

#7b - Blunt-leaved Orchid (Platanthera obtusata)

I love the UP so much that I've decided to stay put a little longer with life plant #7. Well, to be honest there's two species for number seven because I just couldn't decide between the two and declared things a tie. During my single day on the UP my botanical cohorts and I saw 30, yes 30 species of wild orchid! A majority were in flower, too, including the two lifers featured here. On the left in the above photo is the broad-lipped twayblade (Neottia convallarioides), a painfully small orchid that we found in great numbers growing in pure sand in a forested dune along Lake Superior. Above right is the blunt-leaved orchid (Platanthera obtusata), a taxon I'd seen vegetatively a few times before but never in flower. Finding it in a dense white cedar swamp was a needle-in-a-haystack situation but fortunately one peatmoss-covered hummock had a plant or two still in bloom. The UP was kind enough to proffer me a third life orchid on this most sacred of days but we'll get to that later.

#6 - Large-flowered Fameflower (Phemeranthus calycinus)

2017's life plant #6 takes us out to eastern Missouri and a wildflower I'd long wanted to meet face-to-face. My botany buddy, Roger Beadles (Hi, Roger! I know you'll read this as one of my few remaining faithful readers!) treated me to an unusual and globally-significant habitat I'd never experienced before known as an igneous glade. There, in the sun-baked and dessicated landscape grew the large-flowered fameflower (Phemeranthus calycinus), a fascinating little succulent that couldn't be happier in such a harsh environment. It was 90+ degrees that late afternoon without a cloud in the sky and the vivid, deep-pink fameflowers polka-dotted the exposed bedrock with their intense color. Which made perfect sense, as they only open in the latter half of the day and in full-sun conditions. Even had they not been flowering, I'd still been plenty pleased to see their charming fleshy, finger-like leaves. I wasn't expecting on seeing any during my trip and it made for a most excellent botanical surprise and easy inclusion on my countdown of best life plants.

#5 - Glade Spurge (Euphorbia purpurea)

Hitting the halfway point on my countdown of 2017's top ten life plants is #5. It also has the distinction of being one of Ohio's rarest of the rare. Featured here is the odd and unusual glade spurge (Euphorbia purpurea). It's not only rare in Ohio, where it's an endangered species [S1], but globally as well [G3]. Glade spurge is currently only known to occur sparingly at about 50 sites in eight mid-Atlantic states, with Ohio being an intriguing westernmost disjunct. It grows at only two spots at one site in south-central Ohio, both on rich-mesic limestone bluffs above a small dolomite-bottomed stream. The two dozen or so plants in total rarely flower but a few appeared to have tried this season, as evidenced by the orbicular bracts produced at the apex of the stem in the above right photo. Despite being a toxic spurge, deer browse is a real and present threat to this plant. So it's no surprise our only known remnants of it are in such an inaccessible situation. The photos may not be much to look at, especially of vegetative-only material but for a botanist, at least this botanists it's a most precious member of Ohio's diverse flora. Long may it reign...or at least persist!

#4 - Triangle Grape Fern (Botrychium lanceolatum)

The final four plants on this countdown all had a big impact on my botanical year no matter their size, and believe me when I say #4 is about as small as it gets! This past late May I had the pleasure of checking a rare fern off my life list while working in the Hocking Hills region. It's the tiniest, daintiest thing you ever saw, too! The triangle grape fern (Botrychium lanceolatum) is a state-threatened [S2] species in Ohio, and something you'd better have luck on your side to find. I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw the first plant and how miniscule it was: it makes my pencil look gargantuan in the photo above right. This particular grape fern grows on rich, moist stream terraces in more mature woodlands and should hypothetically be more commonly known since that habitat type isn't exactly rare. I'd imagine its impossibly small size keeps most, even those looking specifically from ever noticing it. Triangle grape fern is an expert hider under taller vegetation, especially stinging nettle (Urtica dioica). Ouch!

#3 - Greater Round-leaved Orchid (Platanthera macrophylla)

I've whittled down my top ten list of 2017's best life plants to the last three. This is where the fun really begins if you ask me. I don't think I've ever had an orchid not take at least one of these last three spots in the four years or so I've done this and 2017 is no different. #3 is my favorite of the 30 UP orchids I saw this past July and was a long-awaited lifer I'd daydreamed of seeing for many years, too!

#3 - Greater Round-leaved Orchid (Platanthera macrophylla)

The greater round-leaved orchid (Platanthera macrophylla) looks nearly identical to its close kin, the lesser round-leaved orchid (P. orbiculata) when viewing it in a book or online. However, seeing it in the flesh and it's instantly clear you're not dealing with the same species at all. The greater round-leaved orchid looks like it raided a less-than-honest weight lifter's gym locker and stole every steroid it could find. This behemoth of an orchid is larger in every regard from its brethren with nectar spurs twice as long (40+ mm) and basal leaves sometimes as large as dinner plates (my sunglasses served for scale in the one photo). Unlike the wide-ranging lesser round-leaved species, the greater is restricted to the northern Great Lakes region and NE US/Canada. My group and I found a dozen or so in bloom in dry wooded dunes of the Grand Sable Dunes near Lake Superior. One especially monstrous specimen was just shy of two feet tall and had 50-60 flowers on its raceme. Due to the harsh lighting and its awkward color, I had a tough time photographing it with satisfactory results in situ. I guess I'll just have to go back, eh?

#2 - Mead's Milkweed (Asclepias meadii)

I hope people have enjoyed this countdown thus far as it comes down to the final reveal. I love reminiscing on yet another great field season with the wildflowers and plants that caused the most memorable emotion and joy! This global rarity that comes in at #2 has us travel back out to Missouri and its stunning igneous glade ecosystem.

#2 - Mead's Milkweed (Asclepias meadii)

On top of a very special Missouri mountain glade lives the federally threatened Mead's milkweed (Asclpeias meadii). It's a rarity I'd wanted to see since I first got into botany nigh on a decade ago and bless Roger, he knew right where to look. This particular milkweed has all the right parts and physically looks like a milkweed but its jumbo flowers and lime-green coloration has it stand apart from much of its kin. We only were able to find a total of seven plants, only two of which flowered and even then a sole specimen with perfect blossoms. Beggars certainly cannot be choosers. The surrounding scenery was stunning, too with phenomenal vista views across the rolling forested mountains from the milkweed's glade home. This precious rarity is only known from few extant sites in five Midwestern states and was an absolute honor to witness. It interestingly seems to prefer both dry glade/barren habitats and mesic upland tall grass prairie. It's an extremely conservative and fickle species that is indicative of a stable and old prairie ecosystem. Mead's milkweed would have been an easy #1 life plant had I not been so lucky to have seen this next plant....

#1 - Featherfoil (Hottonia inflata)

It's time to reveal the best and #1 life plant I had the pleasure of seeing during the 2017 botany season. It was an instant and easy decision to have this wildflower be my ultimate lifer as it was one of the most exciting and meaningful of rare plant discoveries of my career thus far.

#1 - Featherfoil (Hottonia inflata)

The featherfoil (Hottonia inflata) has been considered extirpated and unseen in Ohio for over 30 years and thought long-lost for our flora. It's a winter annual that is very fickle and finicky about blooming, which makes finding/tracking it even more difficult. Many have looked for it over the decades with zero luck. As the botanical fates would have it, I managed to rediscover a lovely population of it back in late May in a pond in extreme southern Ohio doing its thing and looking great! I can't recall the last time my heart about leaped out of my chest in such a manner as it did: I couldn't believe my eyes! It's such an odd and goofy plant that nothing, and I mean nothing else comes close to looking like. It also happens to be rather rare across its range in the eastern US, too. The feather-like submerged leaves are topped with hollow inflated stems adorned with tiny and inconspicuous white flowers. The cherry on top was the presence of the state-endangered low spearwort (Ranunculus pusillus) occurring at the site as well! Days and discoveries like this are an easy part of why I became a field botanist and do what I love, and love what I do. It's definitely a plant few would find attractive but it's the most beautiful thing I saw in 2017! I plan to do a post dedicated to this plant and discovery in the near future; I meant to back in May when I found it, but we know how that goes.

I hope you've enjoyed this look back on my favorite finds and life plants of 2017. I'll be curious to hear from you, my readers if any of these are on your life lists or plants you've had the pleasure of coming into contact with before. If anything, I hope I've warmed your spirits and computer screens even a little bit as Ohio's winter and wildflower-less season trudges on. Spring is on the horizon, though, and I expect to be staring some skunk cabbage, snow trillium, harbinger-of-spring etc. in the face in the next couple months. Thanks for tuning in and reading!

- ALG -

Sunday, May 28, 2017

The Bruce Peninsula Part VII: Majestic Flowerpot Island

*Part I* *Part II* *Part III* *Part IV* *Part V* *Part VI* *Part VII*

The time has finally come to bring my whirlwind tour of the fabulous Bruce peninsula to a close. It's nearly two years in the making and long over due for completion but better late than never. I have a handful of friends heading up to the Bruce over the next few weeks and I'm green with envy of their trips. What I wouldn't do to sneak away and re-immerse myself in the spring perfection that is one of Ontario's best kept secrets. I'm of the opinion that I saved the best for last and hope you'll agree with that once you've dug into this final installment...

The large flowerpot on aptly named Flowerpot Island

Flowerpot Island. Easily one of the biggest draws for the Bruce peninsula and adjacent Fathom Five National Marine Park. It's a short ferry ride off the northern shores of the peninsula and within this rocky 500 acre crag of exposed limestone lives a plethora of incredible plants, including one very elusive orchid I'd chased for many years.

Flowerpot Island on the horizon with a smaller unnamed island in the foreground

The aqua jeweled waters of the Georgian Bay are dotted with an assortment of rocky islands of varying sizes and interests. Many are very small, uninhabited and seldom, if ever visited but still very aesthetic in their own rights. I'd love to explore these forgotten specks of bedrock and see what plants have managed to colonize and persist. Many of the island's rocks exhibit huge patches of a bright orange-yellow species of lichen that had to have taken centuries to accumulate.

Approaching Flowerpot Island through the morning mist and fog

Our visit to Flowerpot Island coincided with a thick layering of morning fog and mist that made the island seem even more primordial and mysterious than it already is. The sheer rock cliffs and thick emerald vegetation gave me visions of Jurassic Park for one reason or another and I almost expected to hear the roar of a T-Rex from the depths of the island.

Sheer limestone cliff faces and bluffs of Flowerpot Island

Some of the white cedars (Thuja occidentalis) growing out of the limestone cliff faces on the surrounding islands have been studied and their ages taken by core samples. It's almost impossible to believe but some trees not even a foot in diameter have been determined to be over a millennia old! What tenacious and incredibly hardy organisms they are to have weathered countless bitter winters, horrendous storms, and hot, dry summers.

The famed flowerpots of Flowerpot Island

On the ferry's approach you'll pass right by the island's namesake flowerpots in all their geological glory. Here in this photo the larger of the two sits in the foreground with the smaller one nestled further back. A third flowerpot once occurred but tumbled down back in 1903. I'll dive deeper into these wonderful sea stacks further on in this post.

Bunchberry (Cornus candensis)

Once you dock on the island and exit the ferry you are immediately thrown into a botanical paradise unlike most any place you've been before. The lushness and biodiversity from the start is dizzying and you're left almost numb from a bombardment of pleasures on the senses. We spent as much time on the island as possible but even then time went by far too fast and I felt a bit rushed.

Two trails occur on the island: one is a one-way walk to a sensational wetland known as a marl bed; the other a loop trail that takes you around the eastern half of the island. Both are well worth every step and take you to some fascinating sites, both botanical and geological. However, there is one spot on the island that is ground most hallow and was an instant visit for myself once I set foot on solid ground.

Calypso Orchid (Calypso bulbosa)

In the shaded haunts of one corner of Flowerpot Island's coniferous forests lives a mystical being that I had waited many years to make acquaintances with: the calypso (Calypso bulbosa). This ever more rare denizen of the northern woods is also known as fairy slipper and at first look doesn't appear to belong anywhere else but the equatorial jungle with its countless other bizarre orchid kin. I nearly melted when I first laid eyes on this incredible wildflower and could have spent my entire time on the island staring at its ineffable beauty.

Calypso Orchid (Calypso bulbosa)

There were about a dozen calypsos in picture perfect flower with maybe another dozen in their vegetative leaf-only phase. Much like the ram's head lady's slippers (Cypripedium arietinum), I knew this wildflower would be miniscule in size but I was still caught off guard by just how damn dainty they were. The entire flower was perhaps the size of the end of your thumb.

Calypso Orchid (Calypso bulbosa)

I can't recall the last time I sat and intensely photographed a wildflower as much as I did the calypsos. I'd unsuccessfully hunted them for years and even visited this very spot during my first Bruce trip back in mid June 2011. Alas, that visit was too late and I found only leaves and brown husks that were once their otherworldly flowers. The etymology of Calypso's name, which hails from a nymph in Greek mythology, comes from the meaning "to conceal" or "to hide". This makes perfect sense considering this orchid's affinity for dark, secluded boreal forests. And despite its colorful appearance believe me when I say it's an apt hider.

Calypso Orchid (Calypso bulbosa)

After finding the calypsos in spectacular shape and finally marking such an anticipated "life" orchid off my list, I don't think my feet touched the ground the rest of the day. I merely floated about the island on wings of pure bliss and botanical joy that only something like this orchid could produce. But as memorable as the calypso is, Flowerpot Island has so many more wildflower treasures to share!

Gaywings (Polygala paucifolia)

With every step down the island's trails more and more wildflowers appear from behind their emerald curtain. With no deer or other major herbivores on the island, the flora has a chance to largely grow unimpeded with some amazing results. Not only is the diversity of species eye-popping but the density at which many occur is, too. Huge swathes of gaywings (Polygala paucifolia) covered the ground in many spots, including all over the calypso site with the orchids often growing right out of the middle of it.

Dwarf Rattlesnake Plantain (Goodyera repens)

Western Rattlesnake Plantain (Goodyera oblongifolia)

The calypso is hardly the only orchid to call this island home either. Well over a dozen species occur throughout the variable landscape and bring their own charm to the party. While not blooming until a month or so later, two species of rattlesnake plantain orchid's artistic basal rosettes could often be seen in the forest understory. The western or giant rattlesnake plantain (Goodyera oblongifolia) may be the blandest of North America's four Goodyera taxa but make up for it by being yet another odd example of a western disjunct that's right at home in this region of the Great Lakes. It's much more common in the Mountain West and PNW and skips the entire middle of the continent before showing up in a very local fashion here on the Bruce.

Naked Miterwort (Mitella nuda)

Delicate. That's the best word to describe the impossibly adorable flowers of the naked miterwort (Mitella nuda). Each flower appears like a snowflake with its deeply fringed sepals adorning the less impressive petals. Not far from this small colony of the naked miterwort was the two-leaved miterwort (M. diphylla), a species common in Ohio but a scarcity for my friend and botanical companion, Rob. It made me chuckle to have both species nigh on side-by-side with one miterwort common to me but rare to Rob and vice-versa.

Early Coral-root (Corallorhiza trifida)

Yet another orchid to grace us with its presence was the limey green stalks of early coralroot (Corallorhiza trifida). While a critically endangered species back home in Ohio, this early bloomer is quite common on the Bruce and occurred all over the more shaded, moist areas of Flowerpot Island. It almost has a ghostly glow to it in the damp, dark understory and makes it rather easy to pick out.

Striped Coral-root (Corallorhiza striata)

Not to be upstaged by its orchid brethren was plenty of striped coral-root (C. striata) looking dapper in the drier, sunnier forested sections. The overnight soaking rain hadn't fully evaporated off its red and white flowers and gave it a jeweled appearance. While 'striped' is an accurate name for this particular myco-heterotroph, I much prefer the common name of peppermint stick orchid.

Heart-leaved Twayblade (Neottia cordata)

The calypso can definitely take home the title for most gorgeous of orchids I saw, and despite being genuinely small it cannot also hold the belt for tiniest orchid. That honor goes to the absolutely, positively dainty heart-leaved twayblade (Neottia cordata). It's an easy one to miss if you don't get one shining in a beam of sunlight on the needle-strewn forest floor. Each flower is the size of a BB at best and requires a hand lens or a camera's macro lens to fully appreciate. I had a terrible time getting a good photo due to the deep shade calling for a slooow shutter speed combined with a slight breeze ever-so-slightly pushing the twayblade around. It was miraculously rediscovered in extreme NE Ohio a few years ago after being thought long lost and extirpated for nearly 80 years! I still need to get up to that site and get this tiny wonder on my Ohio list one of these days.

John exploring the mucky margins of the island's marl bed

Earlier in the post I mentioned a unique wetland on the island known as the marl bed. It's hard to miss when walking by as it appears as an extremely shallow, mucky pond of sorts but don't write it off too quickly! One can, and should spend plenty of time exploring its area for a wealth of quality plants. From orchids like the showy lady's slipper (Cypripedium reginae), which wouldn't bloom until later in June, to dozens of sedge species: the marl bed is a real treat.

Starry False Solomon's Seal (Maianthemum stellatum)

Along the not-as-wet margins of the marl bed was a dense colony of the ever-stunning starry false solomon's seal (Maianthemum stellatum) in full, spectacular bloom. It's by no stretch a rarity in Ohio and I see it frequently in the right spots but it's never one I'd ignore and not give some attention to with my camera.

Bird's-eye Primrose (Primula mistassinica)

Undoubtedly the marl bed's most exciting bloomer during our visit was scads of the bird's-eye primrose (Primula mistassinica) flowering throughout its mucky margins. It was a species I'd been too late for on my first Bruce trip and was elated to find looking so fine in its alkaline wetland home.

The picturesque shorelines of Flowerpot Island

After spending plenty of time in the damp, dark, close quarter conditions of the island's interior it's blissful perfection to finally breakout onto the sun-drenched, boulder-strewn, limestone pavement shorelines. The water is as pristine an aqua blue as exists in the northern hemisphere and makes you think you'd found a wormhole to the Caribbean.

The unmistakable blue perfection of the Georgian Bay

Flowerpot Island is literally nothing more than a giant exposed crag of limestone bedrock and its shorelines show that splendidly. The huge bedrock pavement pieces almost immediately give way to deeper water right off the coast and make for a gorgeous transition of water colors from aqua to deep sapphire blue.

Wall-rue (Asplenium ruta-muraria)

Don't let the scenery of the island's shorelines distract you from botanizing, though! There's plenty more to be had among the boulders and limestone cobble. Some careful searching of the larger moss and lichen covered rocks can reward the patient with patches of the very rare and disjunct wall-rue (Asplenium ruta-muraria). This fern is predominately an Appalachian species found from New England down to Alabama, but fascinatingly occurs hundreds of miles north of any other sites on the Bruce and nearby Manitoulin Island and the Straits of Mackinac area. I don't know what it is about the Bruce that makes it act like such a plant magnet for oddities like this but I freakin' love it!

The large flowerpot

As promised it's time to show off the most prominent feature of Flowerpot Island and its namesake: the flowerpots! These sea stacks were formed over the millennia by water, waves, ice and wind all hammering away at the cliffs along the island's shoreline. Softer rock layers slowly eroded and as the water levels waxed and waned post glaciation it finally left these two unique pillars that we see today. It's hard to believe that man had nothing to do with their formation and all it took was time and opportunity for nature and its power of erosion to do its thing.

Your blogger posing with the larger flowerpot

The smaller, but still awesome flowerpot

Judging just how big the larger of the two flowerpots is is a hard task without something for scale. So what better than your blogger to provide such a service! It's a lot bigger when you get up close to it and you kind of just have to stare in awe and wonder at the odds this thing beats to continue standing year and year, decade after decade. The smaller one is only a third the height but both contain some genuine bonsai white cedar trees that somehow, someway manage to survive growing out of nothing more than a crack in the limestone. I compared photos with extremely similar angles of both flowerpots from my 2011 and 2015 trips and could not notice any bit of growth from any of the cedars. They're seemingly frozen in time, at least from a human being's lifespan's viewpoint.

Slender Cliff Brake (Cryptogramma stelleri)

Another limestone-loving fern you might be lucky enough to see while on Flowerpot Island, and other select areas of the mainland peninsula is the slender cliff brake (Cryptogramma stelleri). It prefers cool, shaded, moist fissures and cracks in the bedrock and exhibits dimorphic fronds, or fronds that differ in their appearance based on whether they're fertile or sterile. The fertile fronds have a lacier, skinnier look to them, while the sterile ones have a more blunt, stubby shape.

Wild Columbine (Aquilegia canadensis)

The rocky shorelines and small flowerpot

The alvar-like shorelines are full of other fascinating plant life and a diversity of wildflowers for those that can peel their eyes away from the water and flowerpots. Species like wild columbine (Aquilegia canadensis), upland white goldenrod (Solidago ptarmicoides), bearberry (Arctostaphylops uva-ursi), northern bog violet (Viola nephrophylla), harebell (Campanula rotundifolia) and ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius) are but a handful of wildflowers that grow all over the place.

Flowerpot Island sitting in the jeweled waters of the Georgian Bay as you head back for the mainland

I've really only scratched the surface of Flowerpot Island but hope it was enough to show just how amazing a place it is. It's well worth a day of your time up there to head out and explore its forested depths, limestone bluffs, and incredible shorelines.

Well, all good times must come to an end and this long look back on my unforgettable spring 2015 trip back up to the Bruce has finally come full circle. I really hope you've enjoyed this detailed look at what all this gem of a location has to offer and it has inspired you to take a trip up there one of these years. Or maybe it has rekindled your love for it and caused a deep-rooted passion to return to its beauty once more. I really want to make a return trip later in the summer sometime and re-experience it all over again with different plants. The Bruce is one of eastern North America's most incredible of botanical, geological, bird-rich, and scenic of landscapes and I wish I could do her better justice than I have. The Bruce will always be near and dear to my heart for the rest of my days no matter how many times I return. Thanks so much for following along and I hope to see you back for more botanical adventures soon.

- ALG -