Poetry on the Prairie Part 1?

Silphium terebinthinaceum (Prairie Dock) and Antennaria plantaginifolia (Pussytoes) on LAP 1 scrap. Sands pretty cool when you live in ill noiz
Us CLM Interns at Brown circle woods, required to wear hard hats in woodlands lol

Field full of Reed Canary

Should have been a hilltop prairie

The fire waits patiently for the wind to carry

Weary of species, is it glabrous or is it hairy

Tearing through phragmites she sees a sight thats scary 

Sights of prairie view landfill for the insane

Might be merry if we see a few SandHill cranes

Lobelia siphilitica ( Great Blue Lobelia)
Jonah spotted through the Silphium laciniatum (Compass Plant)
Pluteus longistriatus fungus surrounded by fallen blossoms of Agalinis tenuifolia ( Slender False Foxglove) all growing on a old willow stump in the middle of a wetland

Peacefulness On The Prairie: From A California Native

By: Jessica Vick 

While I have lived in Illinois for a while I cannot believe that I haven’t experienced the prairie the way I now have with this position. For school we were tasked to write a large plant inventory project and I chose a small prairie closer to my home. However, this prairie surprises me in new and beautiful ways every single day. We have had some extremely hot days to contend with and that is an adjustment for me as well. Altogether I wouldn’t trade my experience thus far for anything in the world.

First off my co-interns that I am with are so knowledgeable about the plants that we are seed collecting from. Being a Wildlife Conservation major I have experienced and wrote several projects on plants however, wildlife is my wheelhouse. I have had the fortunate opportunity to be around a group of some of the smartest plant people I have ever met. With the use of iNaturalist and their help I am not only learning about all the Native Illinois plants but I am also learning and retaining their names. The conservation field has equally a huge piece in conserving native plant life. I think being from the Redwood forest I am used to those plants, trees, far more than these but this like I stated above has been a great adventure and experience in learning. 

Being a part of this adventure I’ve had the pleasure of spending my days in the field not only collecting seed but experiencing the wildlife on the prairie. In particular it was nice to witness Monarch larvae yesterday

Monarch butterfly larvae (Danaus plexippus Linnaeus)

As a wildlife person this is evidence that we are doing something wonderful. The monarch butterfly as of 2023 was added to the vulnerable to extinction list and we don’t want it to get any further as we need our pollinators. 

Being a part of the group that is planting and helping restore the prairie has been rewarding and educational. Seeing milkweed in the wild, while not ready, is evidence that this program is working. 

Common Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca L.)

Along with seeing the caterpillars and monarch’s the amount of milkweed throughout the prairie, while not ready for picking, is beautiful. Because, we are sustaining the monarch’s life by having this tallgrass prairie.

Another seed collecting experience was met with a hangout session with a viceroy butterfly while seed collecting. Because we could be standing in one place for several minutes the amount of insects we see and that could be all around us varies. 

Viceroy (Limenitis archippus)

One of the other interesting things about this internship is the seed cleaning process and everything that entails. From the collecting, to the combining of our mutually collected seed in one location, to the hand cleaning screen process, then my favorite part so far is weighing and looking at the seed under a microscope. I tried to get a picture of what it looked like through the ocular lens of the microscope, it is something that before this internship I didn’t spend much time doing on my own. While I do have my own microscope at home, I feel like this skill that I have learned will have me wanting to do this more.

Looking through the ocular lens at various Carex

While seed collecting one day with the volunteers that help at Midewin National Tallgrass Prairie not only did I witness a flyover of some of our resident sandhill cranes (Grus canadensis), but I also at the same exact moment captured a picture of another pollinator, the Golden northern bumble bee (Bombus fervidus).

While we are sandwiched between a landfill and an Exxon plant I feel like we are making a difference and it is evident in all the life that is out there. A refuge of sorts in an otherwise flatland that is Illinois. I think at this point in my internship, while I did start late, I have been to almost every site to collect seed. I am learning more every single day from not only our mentors but from my well versed co-interns. I am thankful to be here and I cannot wait to learn more about tallgrass prairies. 

partridge pea (Chamaecrista fasciculata)

dense blazing star (Liatris spicata)
rosinweed sunflower (Lianthus silphiodes)
wild indigo (Baptisia)
smooth ironweed (Vernonia fasciculata)
Seed through the microscope
big bluestem (Andropogon gerardi) with an Exxon backdrop
tall cinquefoil (Drymocallis arguta)
cardinal flower (Lobelia cardinalis)
Seed ready for picking golden alexander (Zizia aurea) black-eyed susan (Rudbeckia hirta) backdrop
View of seedbeds
Views of seedbeds
false sunflower (Heliopsis helianthoides)
great blue lobelia (Lobelia siphilitica)
Seed ready for the microscope
An invasive wild carrot (Daucus carota)
prairie blazing star (Liatris pycnostachya)
Soldier beetle on a rosinweed sunflower (Lianthus silphiodes)
Joe-pye weeds (Eutrochium purpureum)
Eastern bumble bee (Bombus impatiens) feeding on nodding onion (Allium cernuum)
obedient plant (Physostegia virginiana)
dense blazing star (Liatris spicata) ready for seed
smooth ironweed (Vernonia fasciculata)
evening primrose (Oenothera biennis)
tall cinquefoil (Drymocallis arguta)
tall bellflower (Campanulastrum americanum)
coneflower (Ratibida pinnata)
Seed cleaning
Ground Squirrel
Sandhill crane (Grus canadensis)

The original floor Lego

Cirsium arvense (creeping thistle).

In Scotland, the £1 coin is distinctly marked by the country’s national flower, a thistle. It is said that the flower earned its place there in a battle against the Norsemen, who had a bit of a Lego’s moment. In attempting to sneak up on the Scottish army at night, the Norsemen had taken off their shoes. When one unfortunate soldier happened to step on the thorny plant, screaming in agony, he alerted his enemy.

In a variety of other cultures, from Roman to Native American, thistles were used and appreciated for concrete uses (medicine), and even spiritual ones (charms of protection). And ecologically, I’ve noticed the way that bees cling to the flowerheads and seemingly get drunk off the many flowers squished into each cluster. They fight tooth and nail to stay on their little patch, even if you use leaves, twigs, or even other flowers (not from personal experience, of course) to get them to evacuate the area.

Just the other day in fact, I handed a bag of thistle leaves to a local who claimed his goats loved to munch on them. As we watched his truck pull away after he thanked our crew for pulling the invasive (and feeding his goat), we blinked at one another in confusion. Why would any living thing wish to put a thistle in its mouth?

My favorite way to see Cirsium vulgare (bull thistle). We tint our herbicide mix with blue dye, allowing us to see which individuals we have sprayed.

For the past few months, I’ve been spraying and pulling invasive thistles.* And, having seen the way thistle outcompetes and damages native ecosystems, while also being pricked more times than I would like to admit, my distaste for them comes from an understandable place. Which, in turn, makes any tidbit on thistles being found enjoyable…a shock. It is like discovering your mortal enemy fosters puppies in their free time, and is really, annoyingly, good at it. But there is also a morbid curiosity involved in learning of this hidden side to them—can I trust these claims? What else are they good at? Why am I seeing them in my dreams???

All of this to say, this blog post is simply me sharing what I’ve learned. I don’t hate thistle any less. I do not hesitate to pull them out of the ground if given the chance. But the fun facts are just that. Fun. And yes, you can technically eat them. With lots of preparation. But I have pulled up a few roots that look remarkably close to carrots, so do with that information as you will (—a stew. Not that I have given it that much thought).

Anyways! In other news from this past month:

Some salmon-luck and the beginning of stinky season (fish are rotting and bear poop abounds).

Cool funky fantastic plants!

Sobering clear-cuts performed by private timber companies.

Pictures I will be keeping:

That about wraps it up. Until next time!

-Emma

*There are thistle species native to North America, and I am more than happy to leave those alone!

Personalities of the Prairie

Midewin National Tallgrass Prairie is unique among the Forest Service units that CLM interns are dispatched to because here we have a whopping six interns! This blog post is dedicated to capturing a little bit of the individuality of the Midewin Six.

Logan 

Favorite Prairie Plant: Clasping Milkweed (Asclepias amplexicaulis)

Favorite Prairie Animal: Thirteen-lined Ground Squirrel (Ictidomys tridecemlineatus)

Favorite Spot at Midewin: Sand Ridge

Favorite Seed to Collect: Sideoats Grama (Bouteloua curtipendula)

Logan on collecting Bouteloua curtipendula, “It rolls off the tongue and falls off the bone!”

Logan on himself, “I get that I’m a rambunctious little critter…”

Jonah

Favorite Prairie Plant: Water Hemlock (Cicuta maculata)

Favorite Prairie Animal: Eastern Massasauga (Sistrurus catenatus)

Favorite Spot at Midewin: LAP 1

Favorite Plant to Kill: Reed Canary Grass (Phalaris arundinacea)

Jonahcore quotes: “It’s Poa, what you on dude?” and “What?” It is too hard to explain the context of most of our interactions with Jonah, so I won’t really try.

Gabriel

Favorite Prairie Plant: White Wild Indigo (Baptisia alba) or Prairie Dock (Silphium terebinthinaceum) or Midwestern Arrowhead (Sagittaria brevirostra)

Favorite Prairie Animal: Northern Leopard Frog (Lithobates pipiens)

Favorite Spot at Midewin: Sand Ridge

Favorite Seed to Collect: Purple Prairie Clover (Dalea purpurea)

Favorite Plant to Kill: Phrag (Phragmites australis)

Gabriel on protecting remnant prairie from being mowed by the city, “Dude, you should chain yourself to the Silphium out there!

Gabriel on environmental awareness, “People probably know more about the Amazon getting destroyed than the ecosystems around them.”

Vlad

Favorite Prairie Plant: Virginia Mountain Mint (Pycnanthemum virginianum)

Favorite Prairie Animal: Eastern Meadowlark (Sturnella magna)

Favorite Spot at Midewin: Oxbow Wetland

Favorite Seed to Collect: Plains Oval Sedge (Carex brevior)

Vlad on things that are Jonahcore, “That’s so Jonahcore.”

Vlad on choosing his lunch, “I’ll select my fish tomorrow. I mean I know I’m going to bring my eel. I’ve nominated my fish. But I’ll formally select it tomorrow.”

Jessica

Favorite Prairie Plant: Marsh Blazing Star (Liatris spicata)

Favorite Prairie Animal: Greater Prairie-chicken (Tympanuchus cupido) or Bison (Bison bison)

Favorite Spot at Midewin: Lobelia Meadows wetland

Favorite Seed to Collect: Gray-head Coneflower (Ratibida pinnata)

Jessica on going to the bison pasture, “You guys can collect seed, I’m gonna collect a baby bison.”

As of late, I’ve really been enjoying looking at seeds under the microscope to test their viability. It also makes for some interesting photos. 

Logan and I checked out a nearby creek while we were seed collecting and found that we were in the presence of a very industrious beaver. While we didn’t see the creature himself (we assumed he was asleep in his lodge), evidence of his nightly toils could be seen all around us. We observed a series of dams throughout the creek, a network of well-traversed paths on the banks, and many trees that the beaver was currently trying to fell. We think that this might be a particularly ambitious beaver because one of the trees he was working on was a comically large cottonwood. Anyways, he seems like a cool guy and maybe we can have a beer together sometime.

Projects Essential for Watershed Restoration on the Prairie

I’ve been helping the Midewin hydrologist (technically the fish biologist) Len Kring compile the Watershed Restoration Action Plan (WRAP), and in the process, learning many things that my basic (eco)hydrology course at NU had not taught me. Let me begin with an analogy — water is a hungry creature. It eats sediment when it is pure, and only once it becomes satisfied on a good meal of sand, clay, and silt, does it contently meander its way downstream, lazily picking up some sediment in one place and depositing a little in another. When something rudely interrupts the water’s course and forces the water to drop its sediment, it once again becomes hungry and begins eating away at the banks and bed downstream. 

Unfortunately, there are many things that bother the water of Prairie Creek as it flows through Midewin, which encompasses about 80% of the Prairie Creek HUC 12 watershed. There are old bridges with supports in the middle of the creek. I thought at first, what could possibly go wrong with supports in the creek? But one only needs to take one look at the old railroad trestle with at least 3 supports in the river that has accumulated an impressive log jam behind it to see the problem. As debris floats down the stream during high flow, it gets caught in those supports, accumulating and forming a dam. This not only prevents fish and other aquatic organisms from traveling across the barrier, but it also causes the areas downstream of the dam to erode heavily. This is because obstacles cause sediment previously carried by the steam to be deposited, meaning that the water immediately downstream of such obstacles is relatively free of particulate matter and “hungry”, wanting to pick up sediment from the banks and channel bed. Water also tries to go around the dam, widening the channel at both ends, until those alternate paths also get blocked by incoming logs. In the end, the downstream portion becomes both wider and deeper, and the banks keep receding. The solution is to demolish all unneeded legacy bridges, and replace those that are still necessary with bridges having no in-stream supports. 

A similar issue occurs on a smaller scale with poorly designed culverts. These are typically under roads, and often take the form of two or three buried pipes. Typically, they are too narrow, causing water to flow through them at higher velocities than it normally would, causing erosion on the downstream end. While the culvert begins with having the same level relative to the ground on both the upstream and downstream sides, it often ends up being above grade on the DS side, resulting in a waterfall. Additionally, these small culverts also often become blocked with debris, causing water to erode the soil around the culverts as it seeks a new path through. This has resulted in numerous culverts developing large potholes, making the roads above them almost impassable. The solution is creating wider culverts consisting of bottomless arches sitting on bedrock or a concrete slab. 

Downstream side of poorly designed culvert which has turned into a waterfall.

Worst of all, there is a large dam just north of Doyle Rd., which is significantly altering channel shape and function both upstream and downstream, and acts as an impenetrable barrier to fish and other aquatic organisms. Removing the dam might be as simple as dynamiting it and then carting away the debris. However, there is a large amount of sediment trapped behind the dam (reaching almost the top of the dam on the upstream side), which may be contaminated due to army activities. This means that before the dam is removed, the sediment must be tested for contamination. If there is a hazardous level of contaminants, the sediment would need to be dredged out from behind the dam before the dam can be removed (as removing the dam would mobilize all of that sediment). This would significantly complicate the process and drive up costs. 

Doyle Rd. dam.

The Watershed Restoration Action Plan (WRAP) for Prairie Creek includes all of these things and much more. The plan lists all steps (essential projects) that are necessary in order to improve the watershed to the next condition class, the three classes being (3) impaired function, (2) functioning at risk, and (1) functioning properly. In the case of Prairie Creek, the current state is functioning at risk and the desired state is functioning properly. Most importantly, approval of this plan will allow Midewin to acquire funding to address the essential projects, which include both structural improvements like ones listed above as well as invasive species removal and native habitat restoration throughout the watershed. 

End-of-Summer Woes and Early Autumn Wins

I forced myself to stop lamenting about missing this or that about a month ago, choosing instead to fully enjoy the remainder of my time in, arguably, the most beautiful place on Earth (Lake Tahoe).  Then, I knelt down to cut open some seeds. Somehow, when I stood up, August was just about over.

As I swam this past weekend, staring at the light dancing in the water, I couldn’t help but get a bit wistful at how fast its all changing. The chill from the water lingers for a bit longer after drying off now. The aspens are starting to show tinges of yellow, heavier layers have replaced t-shirts on my morning bike ride to work, and believe it or not, I got stuck in a snowstorm on my hike last weekend. For me, there’s always a bit of melancholy that comes along with the waning days of summer. In addition to summer being my favorite season, my heart breaks thinking about my favorite off-work activity (reading on the beach until I get hot, jumping in the lake, drying off, repeat) slipping through my fingers. At the same time, watching the seasons change in an entirely new way is so captivating. Another, admittedly much sillier, upside to this season of my life is that this is the first fall I will be “harvesting” anything, which really makes all the seasonal festivities make much more sense.

Site of my weekend wistfulness
Summer snow!
Ten minutes later…

With autumn now looming over us, Gerardo and I have been very busy, driving around all around the basin in search populations ideal for seed collection. We have shifted into spending all our time scouting in preparation for September, when the whole Forest Service botany crew will begin seed collecting. Suddenly, everything seems to be in seed. Populations we’ve been monitoring all summer are now in fruit, which has been so exciting to watch. Finding more populations after scouting all summer has become challenging, but this makes each new location on our map a bit more rewarding.

Bromus carinatus in fruit
Cirsium andersonii seeds

We got our first taste of seed collecting last week at Spooner Lake; a new parking lot has been approved for construction in a patch of forest, meaning all plant populations (and their seed bank) will be lost from that immediate area. Because of these unique circumstances, we were able to collect all of the seeds from some of our target species rather than the standard 10% or 20%, saving them from an asphalt-covered doom.  We have yet to clean the seeds, but we estimate that we collected roughly 15,000 seeds! I listened to a great audiobook and spent ~10 hours in a forest plucking seeds off plants. I cannot fathom a better workday.

As the end of summer creeps closer, I find myself more at peace with the change than in past years. While the incoming colder weather may spell the end of my dearly-beloved beach days, it also marks the beginning of the most rewarding part of my internship yet, seed collection! Most of all, I’m looking forward to the idiom, “you reap what you sow,” applying to my life in a somewhat literal sense.

Bitter and Sweet

“What do you like about it? Is it the topography, or the wildlife, or something else?” 

It’s a common question when I share with my coworkers how much I love the Tumacacoris and the Atascosas. Coronado National Forest is huge and incredibly diverse, and in the heat of a Sonoran summer most people don’t want to be on these two smaller, lower elevation mountain ranges. They lack the refreshing temperatures of the higher ranges on the Forest. As far as I can tell, the most abundant animals here are cattle. I would advise against swimming in either of the lakes because of heavy metal from mine tailings, waterborne illnesses from grazing, and ample leeches. 

This landscape is hot and humid, winding with canyons, hills, secret swimming holes, and perennial streams. Much of it is not true desert but the Madrean Archipelago, a blend of conifer forest, oak scrub, grassland, and wetland. Humans are everywhere – canyons full of agave scrapers and hand axes, camouflage jackets and plastic bottles from the refugee crisis unfolding on this part of the border, pictographs, abandoned vehicles, and ammo (both modern shell casings and older arrowheads).

It is easy to explain why I love the plants and the animals and the air of this place. It’s harder to explain that love when considered with the heaviness that comes with the task of surveying plants and collecting seeds from these mountains. To a lot of people in Southern Arizona, “Chiricahuas” is a mountain range. To a lot of other people, the Chiricahuas are a nation of Apache people who were forcibly removed as part of a genocide in the mountain ranges who still bear their name. The Huachucas are a mountain range and also the name of a Pima village that was wiped out by settlers. What is considered to be the final battle of the American Indian wars was fought in Bear Valley in the Atascosas. There are trees and lichens alive today who were alive to witness all of this. It is not lost on me that I am harvesting seeds from places with a painful and shameful history. It is not lost on me that this would be true nearly anywhere on the continent.

I don’t have wisdom to offer anyone about this. A land acknowledgement (“I am harvesting seeds on land that traditionally belonged to many different nations, all of whom were treated brutally by the nation we call the United States”) does not seem useful. I thank every plant from whom I harvest seeds (and every plant I collect for herbarium pressing), but I also know every one of these plants is here in these landscapes – landscapes so deeply modified and architected by humans – because of the care of Indigenous people and nations. Indigenous people and nations who are still here, but generally not present at my workplace to provide oversight or input.

On this part of the Coronado, it’s impossible to forget this challenging, painful, complicated history. There is sweet birdsong and beautiful flowers and evident bitterness. Regardless of any land acknowledgement I make, the land asks me every day to acknowledge that my work here is fraught. The pictographs, the arrowheads, the cattle, the border wall – every day I am asked to remember who was here and who is here and who might be here next. I don’t love all of it, but I’m grateful for the opportunity to be here and witness it, and maybe work toward human justice in this place that has been sculpted by so many human hands. To me, that is a type of love.

Mexican Free Tail Bats fly over Ruby Peak in the Coronado National Forest. A population of 400,000 lives seasonally in the old lead mine in Ruby, which was abandoned in the 1940s as the ore veins were spent.

Water

Hatchery Creek near Coffman Cove

I come from haunts of coot and hern,

I make a sudden sally

And sparkle out among the fern,

To bicker down a valley.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s “The Brook” has long been one of my favorite poems, ever since my grandfather taught it to me many years ago. It tells of a quiet country stream as it tumbles endlessly out of the hills and wends its way down to the river, washing over stones and reeds all the while in an eternal turbulence. On the Tongass, our nation’s rainiest forest, water is an ever-present force that drives life in ways quite unlike the lower 48. Dozens of these streams bubble up in abundance from a sponge of karst and filter down through the mountain boulders, wedged apart by rock-brakes. They fan out into huge lakes that are fringed by little wildflowers bearing the names of Victorian-era botanists, Tennyson’s contemporaries: Packer, Tolmie, Lyngbye, Menzies. These are flanked by a sprinkling of wild salmonberries and huckleberries at the forest’s edge, where water has been piped out of the ground into their hundreds of little fruits. Collecting seeds from these shrubs requires several turns of a wash-rinse-repeat cycle; most other plants, their fruits being dry capsules, instead need dried quickly to prevent molding.

The waters slip across the backs of salmon huddled at the lake’s outlet and tumble farther down waterfalls, until they finally become tinged with salt as they near the ocean. The water sedge gives way to Lyngbye sedge and the rocky beaches are strewn with popweed, an edible seaweed that provides an excellent source of iodine.

I wind about, and in and out,

With here a blossom sailing,

And here and there a lusty trout,

And here and there a grayling.

The waters of Alaska are known as one of the most productive fisheries in the world, and for good reason. Trout and salmon, crabs and squid flutter through the streams and bays in titanic numbers, converting flies and algae into suppers for eagles, wolves, and fishermen. It is no wonder that the Tongass is sometimes called the Salmon Forest – in between its hundreds of islands swim countless millions of them. They not only sustain a subsistence lifestyle unique to Alaska, but much of the state’s commerce as well. One in ten residents of Southeast Alaska are in some way employed in the fishing industry. This includes not only commercial fishermen, but processors, shipbuilders, biologists, guides, and a host of other colorful characters.

My career plan is to become an agronomist and work with farmers to improve crops, not fish. This spring, I debated whether to come work in Alaska in a position that I thought to be largely unrelated to agriculture or the food system in general. The longer I have worked here, however, I realize that I was mistaken; Alaskans on Prince of Wales Island live off the land to an extent that I was quite unfamiliar with growing up in Pennsylvania farm country. Wild foods are a critical resource in rural Alaska, and our work in forest restoration creates habitat for the wildlife and edible plants that are the mainstays of everyday life here, and healthy forests ensure high water quality. I have learned an incredible amount about local food systems through this internship and how sustainable, carefully managed forestry will help this traditional part of life in southeast Alaska continue for many more generations.

And out again I curve and flow

To join the brimming river,

For men may come and men may go,

But I go on for ever.

A beautiful rainbow trout from a night of fly-fishing on the Thorne River.

Monardella Smell and Wyethia Hell: A Totally Biased Ranking of the Best Seeds in Plumas County

Another month has gone by here in Plumas National Forest. As the season goes on by and we approach the end of summer, I find myself in awe at how much we’ve accomplished. We’ve fallen into a steady routine by now, with most of our time consisting of checking on plant phenology, collecting mature seeds, and occasionally processing seeds to ensure good storage. That last part is key, we learned: ensuring our collections are stored properly. Following a chaotic end to our week, we showed up one Monday morning to be greeted by hundreds of flies that had taken over our office. There was a moment of confusion before we realized what had happened over the weekend– the rustling paper bags reminded us. The large Wyethia collection we were quite proud of from the week before was not properly looked at before bringing it inside. We definitely didn’t sort through the seed heads, given that we arrived back at the office around 10 pm after getting our truck stuck in the mud. Being too fried from the eventful day and also too used to loose seed collections, the thought of breaking up the seed heads to prevent moisture and loosen up whatever was inside didn’t occur to us that night.

Our plans for the day were pushed back a bit so we could make time to address the issue before it got worse and affected the rest of our collections. This meant we had to take our many bags of Wyethia mollis seeds outside and sort through them, cracking open individual seed heads and sorting out the seeds, removing any infected parts. This process was tedious and frustrating; sharp splinters pierced our skin as we crushed open the seed heads, dusty particles of plant material emitted an unpleasant odor into the air, and plenty of larvae wiggled around us. It felt like we had been defeated. Just a few days before, we had felt so accomplished, having stumbled upon a massive population. This was easily one of the largest collections we made all summer. Now we had a setback, with a ton of seeds to look through during peak collection time.

Wyethia mollis seed heads

But thankfully, not all seeds gave us so much trouble. One of the best parts of this month has been seeing all the variety of collections we have, and the unique experiences each species brings as we collect. There’s little variation in what we do everyday, at the surface level. Each day is the same, yet each day is unique: different plants offer different habitats, collection methods, textures, scents. Having collected from most of our target species by now, I’ve half-consciously created a ranking in my head of the most satisfying plants to collect from. A few of the highlights are:

  1. Veratrum californicum (Cornlily): This water-loving lily is often found in serene wet meadows, growing about 4-5 feet tall at times, creating an almost corn-maze-like effect. The seed pods took forever to reach maturity, but once they did, they easily made the top of the list for most satisfying collection. Thin, papery pods the size of grapes could be easily crushed, making a lovely crinkling sound and releasing several white, papery seeds. And if the seeds were really far into maturity, you could even grab a whole stalk, tilt it over into your bag, and gently shake it, releasing hundreds of seeds effortlessly.
Mature seeds
  1. Asclepias cordifolia (Purple Milkweed): Milkweeds are so fun to collect. Upon reaching maturity, the dried pods crack open to reveal some of the softest material I’ve ever felt. Each seed is accompanied by a large puff of milkweed “silk”, an incredibly lightweight pappus that aids in wind dispersal. This is a plant that makes me look forward to tedious seed cleaning!
Milkweed going to seed
  1. Lupinus arbutus (Lupine): Lupines can really be hit or miss. Our first encounter with Lupine collection was extremely unpleasant: while opening a pod, we had about an 80% chance some gross little larvae would pop out at us. But as we sampled new populations and learned that not all Lupines had this issue, at least not quite as severely as the first one, Lupine collection became one of my favorites. We came across a particularly good population of Lupinus arbutus that had virtually no bugs inside–yay! And then we finally got to experience the joy of having a perfectly mature seed pod pop open right in your hand as you reach to collect, separating all the seeds instantly and offering a nice crunchy feeling.
Lupine seed pods before maturity
  1. Monardella odoratissima (Monardella): Everyone in the building knows when we’ve collected Monardella– the strong minty scent spreads all throughout the hallway, becoming a nice natural air freshener. A few weeks ago it helped to mask the stench of old milk left in the communal fridge, quickly making it an office favorite. It definitely gets a few points for that alone. But the tactile qualities are nice as well. As the seed head dries, you simply walk up to one and crumple it, the seeds gently flaking off into the bag.
Monardella going to seed
  1. Elymus elymoides (Squirreltail): Elymus elymoides gets points just for the name. But also, it’s a funky looking native grass that has brushy seeds that you easily strip off in one sweep.

I could go on and on but I’ll stop there with my top five. And of course, my least favorite should be pretty obvious. (Wyethia mollis…)

In addition to seed collection, here’s some photos of some other fun stuff I saw this month:

Sierra Primrose, Primula suffrutescens
Fritillary butterflies all over this Angelica spp
Full moon rises over the valley

Check back in next month for more updates!

We don’t have much time!

As I’m starting this blog, we have about 30 minutes left before we need to clock out and avoid running into overtime. Today also happens to be the last day of the work week, right before our blog submissions are due. You might wonder why I’m just now starting this, and the answer lies with AT&T and the LIE that is “unlimited” data. This bounty of data does not apply to hotspots, apparently.

We aren’t allowed to use the USFS internet, and although I’d much rather save my hotspot data for downloading the Planet of the Apes movies, I end up using most of it in the office.

AT&T Unlimited Elite plan, you are a liar!!!

Fortunately, my hotspot data reset today, and with the ridiculously hot weather outside, I have the connection (and motivation) to sit in the office and work on this blog right now and only now.

As we pass the midway point of our internship, we’ve been busy collecting lots of seeds, of course. Today, we gathered Penstemon, snowberries, and Oregon Grape. However, I’ve been a bit down lately because thimbleberry is no longer fruiting, and the days feel just a little duller without it.

My mentor has popped into the cubicle to chat, so I’m out of time to write. I know this post isn’t very long or detailed, so I’ll make it up to you with a little something extra:

Ella, Ash, and I have been working on an album (you can find more details in their blog posts), and we all decided to write one song that really spoke to us. My contribution is ‘Ash Song,’ a parody of ‘Fight Song,’ inspired by the powerful being that is Ash Terry. I hope you enjoy.

Ash Terry, for reference.

Ash Song

Like a lichen that is growin’  

Mysterious, I’m not postin’  

Yeah, I went to Clemson  

So I’m well-spoken  

When mosquitos bite me  

I get very swollen  

Sorry I can’t help but slay  

Monkey Island, I’ll liberate  

South Car’lina, it’s on sight  

Can you hear my voice this time?

This is my Ash song (hey)  

My Ooh-ooh ahh-ahh song (hey) [Like monkey sounds] 

I take out the trash song (hey, ha)  

I’ve never been wrong (hey)  

Costa Rica, I’ll belong (hey)  

I’ll play my Ash song (hey)  

You know I’ve got “God’s Plan” by Drake on repeat (ha)  

‘Cause I’ve still got a lot of Ash left in me 

Moved to Oregon, I’m pulling weeds  

On the hunt for serviceberry  

Collecting seeds, I’m collecting seeds (I’m collecting seeds)  

And it’s been so long, I miss my home  

Well, that’s complicated, so I don’t know  

Still believe, yeah, I still believe  

Sorry that I can’t help but slay  

Monkey Island, I’ll liberate  

South Car’lina, it’s on sight  

Can you hear my voice this time?

This is my Ash song (hey)  

My Ooh-ooh ahh-ahh song (hey)  

I take out the trash song (hey, ha)  

I’ve never been wrong (hey)  

Costa Rica, I’ll belong (hey)  

I’ll play my Ash song (hey)  

You know I’ve got “God’s Plan” by Drake on repeat (ha)  

‘Cause I’ve still got a lot of Ash left in me, lotta Ash left in me  

Like a lichen that is growin’  

Mysterious, I’m not postin’  

Yeah, I went to Clemson  

So I am well-spoken  

When mosquitos bite me  

I get very swollen…

This is my Ash song (hey)  

My Ooh-ooh ahh-ahh song (hey)  

Take out the trash song (hey, ha)  

I’ve never been wrong (hey)  

Costa Rica, I’ll belong (hey)  

I’ll play my Ash song (hey)  

You know I’ve got “God’s Plan” by Drake on repeat (ha)  

‘Cause I’ve still got a lot of Ash left in me, I’ve still got a lotta Ash left in me