Adapting to a Life with Fire

Posted on 17 August, 2024 by Emma Landenberger

Wildfires are part of life out west. As a midwesterner this has definitely been a culture shock. The smoke that hangs in the valleys brings this ominous feeling I can’t quite shake. Meanwhile the locals do not seem fazed. As time passes I too have gotten more comfortable living surrounded by fires. Maybe it’s the constant reassurance from my crew lead or the other USFS employees sharing their experiences from years past, but slowly it’s becoming more normal.

Smoke from nearby wildfires turns the sky red in the early evening.

In all honesty, the biggest adjustment has been working while large portions of the forest are closed. Many of our historic seed collection spots are out of reach or even burned. Initially it felt like the rug was ripped from under my feet. Time to start over. Going back out and looking for our target species, but this time without any historic data to rely on.

My co-intern, Hannah, walks a ridge road while we were collecting Blue Wild-rye (*Elymus glaucus*).

Long days of driving down new roads were upon me and my co-intern. Some days were busts. We seemed to find more invasives than natives. Not the best feeling, to be honest. Soon our luck would change. We would come upon patches of meadows, they key to our success. Quickly we found forest scurf pea, western columbine, and blue wild rye. It felt like such a victory!

The start of our seed collection filling the botany office.

As time has passed waivers to enter the closure have been approved. Finally we can hit some of those historic sites! The sheer difference in population size was astounding. I could see why the forest relies on these sites so much. Now as July comes to a close, paper bags of seeds cover the floor and the fridge is full of berries. Despite it all the work is really starting up. Hoping as summer moves along more of the forest opens up, and more seed can be safely collected.

Emma Landenberger

Umpqua National Forest, Oregon

Past Political Predicaments and Pushing Towards Positivity and Peace On The Prairie

Posted on 16 August, 2024 by Gabriel Taylor

Field of *Asclepias incarnata* (Swamp Milkweed) and a freight in our dolomite prairie labeled as our Exxon site due to it being crammed between an Exxon refinery and intermodal train center

Logan and Naomi feeling Politically distraught on the Prairie ( PLANTS IN VIEW: *Monarda fistulosa, Ratibida pinnata, and Silphium terebinthinaceum*)

As I start to write this second blog post while sitting outside the office the Midewin ambience buzzes around me. Surrounding the main office is a cow pasture allotment ( One of the 50 or so lots we graze cattle on, for forest service profit), the cow pasture is an ecological refuge compared to the grotesque development encroaching the land adjacent to us. To the south, not far at all, I can sometimes get a whiff of Prairie View Landfill and the Exxon refinery to the north. Prairie View Landfill gives Illinois’ usually flat landscape some more intriguing topography, although it is probably not a fair trade for the smell of garbage. Surrounding Midewin is a plethora of warehouses, row crops (mostly corn and soy), suburban sprawl, parking lots, and industrial parks. I don’t mean to set the tone for pessimistic attitudes but I wanted to lay out the visual scene for people who are unfamiliar with Illinois and it’s unique approach to biosphere collapse. The prairie is rich with biodiversity and compared to the sterile conservative approach to landscaping and land management here in the Midwest, the prairie feels like a coral reef or an exotic land full of life.

Midwest storm rolling in over Prairie Glacial Plains

*Impatiens canadensis* ( Jewelweed/ Touch-Me-Not)

Exxon views from my daily commute to work, rare dolomite prairie on the other side

Living here all my life for 21 years I am astonished that is has taken me this long to truly experience the prairie, some residents here have never even seen one. The power struggle dynamics and lack of political will within the mission here can be quite saddening. I am glad a small number of people truly do put their heart and soul into the goal of bringing the prairie back. The integrity and strength to keep pushing for what’s right even when it seems like nobody understands what we are loosing and what we have already lost. It surprises me that a lot of people will know more about environmental issues across the world(Amazon rainforest) but they won’t be aware of any habitat loss of local ecosystems. Not to say we shouldn’t advocate for protection of land everywhere ( these things are not mutually exclusive) but I believe all ecosystems are equal in the grand scheme of things. The prairie and it’s hard working plants sequester tons of carbon and helps put organic matter back into the soil. How do we get people to care about native ecosystems if they haven’t even seen one in the first place? What type of incentives can we practice either personally or politically that would engage people in nature and ecology more? That being said I think even the people making insensitive decisions on the top of Exxon may not be complete demons, just confused, very very confused, human beings. I believe educating people, while remaining open and compassionate, is absolutely essential for restoration and native plant efforts. We can only move forward as much as we ALL move forward, and it’s hard not to get angry with the way things are and the lack of care from the general public. But I believe things will get better and people are increasingly more interested in learning when the opportunity presents itself.

I am very grateful for all the fellow CLM interns, it gives me comfort and restores some sanity knowing there are other people that feel passionate about native plants. Each one of the other interns is uniquely clever, intelligent, funny, and warm hearted and I couldn’t have asked for a better team:)

Female Clouded Sulphur (*Colias philodice)* on *Liatris spp.*

“Scrap” full of *Silphium terebinthinaceum* (PRAIRIE DOCK)

*Sagittaria brevirostra* Aka Midwestern Arrowhead

Trailing fuzzy bean (*Strophostyles helvola)*

Posted on 16 August, 2024 by Sky Milstein

Now that I’ve been in Neihart for around a month and a half I am really starting to get in the swing of things! I’ve been really enjoying collecting seeds, it is such a peaceful task. That said, some plants I enjoy collecting from much more than others. Here is my official ranking of all the species I have collected from so far:

Geum triflorum (Prairie Smoke) 10/10

I enjoy collecting from this one for a couple of reasons. The seeds of Prairie Smoke are super easy to pull right off. This makes the process both simple and satisfying. There is no stickiness or plants parts that are easy to cut yourself on (foreshadowing for my later complaints).

Penstemon eriantherus (Fuzzytongue Penstemon) 10/10

Penstemon have dry easy to pull off seed pods. Each pod has a bunch of seeds, which makes it easy to collect large amounts of seed. I also found collecting from this species to be satisfying. We collected this species in a part of the forest I had never been to before, which was a dry, shrubby ecosystem that was cool to see.

Festuca campestris (Rough Fescue) 8/10

Let me start off by saying I was such a grass hater before I started this job. Now the more I have learned about grasses I have started to appreciate their beauty. This species is particularly important to restoration in the area where I am located and seeds early in the season, so we were excited to collect from this. Rough Fescue is also the first species I collected from so it will always hold a special place in my heart. Taking the seeds off this plant was very satisfying because they just pop off as you run your hands up the stem. The only reason Rough Fescue loses points is because as the name implies it is rough. Collecting from this plant really cut up my hands so for that it loses points.

Mertensia paniculata (Tall Bluebells) 8/10

Bluebells are one of my favorite wildflowers, so I was thrilled to be able to collect seeds from this species. My forest has not been able to collect these in previous years, so it was quite exciting to find a population with seeds before the moose got to it. Tall Bluebells are one of few shade tolerant species on our collection list, which is a bonus. My only issue with collecting from this species is that it grows in riparian environments, meaning I was being swarmed by bugs the entire time. The seeds are also very tiny and easy to drop.

Lupinus sericeus (Silky Lupine) 6/10

Silky lupine is one of the most satisfying plants to collect from because you can just pull the pods off. Unfortunately, there are a lot of other downsides for this one. For one they are sticky which is quite unpleasant. They are also loved by aphids which gross me out. Flies also like to lay their maggots inside of the seed pods, which is not something I like to find when I am collecting seeds.

Geranium viscosissimum (Sticky Geranium) 4/10

As the name implies this plant is very sticky. It also grows everywhere, so collecting from it can be exhausting; it is the only plant I get tired of collecting seeds from. The only thing that makes collecting from Sticky Geranium a little better is how pretty it is.

Seeds and Sights in SNF!

Posted on 16 August, 2024 by Elanor Fuller

July introduced me to depths of our forest more beautiful than I could have imagined. At the beginning of the month, my co-intern, Emma, and I embarked on an exclusively seed-collecting trip around Huntington Lake. Before we left, we went to the library to do some research. Using many different sources, we scoped out some of the plants that we have been keen to collect this season, compiling information regarding their identifications, confirmed and probable growing locations, and phenology. Based on our research, we knew that we would utilize this trip to preliminarily assess populations, getting vouchers and initial estimates of population sizes to inform potential future trips for collections and for our records. Our priority populations included Mountain coyote mint, (Monardella odartissima var lechtinii), Western wallflower (Erysimum capitatum), Stickseed (Hackelia mundula), Anderson’s thistle (Cirsium andersonii). We also kept an eye out for some rare plants we knew were in the area (just for fun!) including Hulsea brevifolia, an aster that is abundant around Huntington Lake.

The next week was a departure from our normal activities: chainsaw training. We underwent this training in order to be better prepared to evacuate an area under immediate threat of wildfires. This same week, we were informed of the urgent need to survey an area for Whitebark pine (Pinus albicaulis) in the John Muir Wilderness in our forest. This is a threatened species under the endangered species act is a white pine, containing needle bunches of five, that grows at subalpine and timberline elevations. We were enlisted to help, so we worked a great deal to get some last-minute trip planning done.

We began this following week on Sunday, packing and collecting the materials we needed–cleaning bear canisters, stocking up on batteries/chargers, readying tablets and radios, prepping the field press. We drove over Kaiser Pass to Florence Lake where we camped before taking the ferry across the lake in the morning to begin our trek. We stayed this first night in the backcountry at the Muir Trail Ranch, then completed our hike to the study area the next morning. We surveyed that day and much of the next prior to our hike out. We found a much larger population than anticipated, but we were bummed to see that most of the individuals had been infected with the blister rust, which poses a mortal threat to white pines.

Although we were overjoyed to help out on this survey for this endangered species, Emma and I were, of course, relentlessly occupied with seed collection. We had little time for it, but we still jotted down some population locations and estimated specifications, as well as collected some vouchers in hopes that we will be able to return and collect seeds from those plants. Here, we noted a population of Anderson’s thistle even stronger than that we had seen at Huntington Lake, and got excited about a native Elymus species (yet to be indubitably verified)!

Something that has become beautifully apparent and that I consider rather beautiful about my time working this field job is the intimacy of learning the plants and the opportunity to get to know them on a deeper level. Previously, I would memorize morphological characteristics and ecological for classes or for jobs—often without actually seeing them in real life—and would not form any sort of personal connection with them. Now, I can touch the plants, hold their seeds in my hands, smell them (big shoutout to Jefferey Pine!), better understand their ecological niches… and better understand them overall!

Until next month… hugs from SNF! XOXO

Elanor

Plants of medicine, myth and modernity

Posted on 16 August, 2024 by Grace Davenport

Plants shape our historical and modern worlds

For many of us in the modern age, plants blend into the background. The joy of this internship, and other outdoor work, is the movement of plants to centerstage again as primary shapers of the world. Not long ago in Europe and much more recently in North America, plants were the primary suppliers of medicine and raw materials. Here in and around the Flathead National Forest, plants were imperative for everyday life of the Salish and Kootenai people. An exhaustive list of plants and their traditional uses is not possible here, but important edible plants included Serviceberry, Huckleberry, and Camas (Bear Don’t Walk, 2019). Plants for raw materials included Apocynum cannabinum for rope, Salix (willow) for fish traps, and Holodiscus discolor (oceanspray) for digging stick handles (Ryan, 2024). In the paragraphs to follow, I focus on three medicinal plants, common and widespread across multiple continents, that many cultures used and still use today. The independent use of these plants for similar ailments across different cultures corroborates their effectiveness. The application of these plants goes back thousands of years, with the origin of their medicinal value shrouded in myth and legend but their effectiveness indisputable and tangible with the modern-day scientific isolation of their bioactive compounds.

The view from Doris Mtn, looking west across the Flathead valley

Yarrow: ancient medical hero

Yarrow, the common name for various plant species in the Achillea genus, is widespread throughout Eurasia and North America. Species of Achillea have been used for thousands of years in the treatment of wounds, infections, inflammation and skin conditions (Applequist & Moerman, 2011). Yarrow pollen was unearthed at the 65,000-year-old burial site of several Homo neanderthalensis in a cave near Shanidar, Iran (Applequist & Moerman, 2011). The genus name, Achillea, honors the ancient Greek mythological hero Achilles. Achilles was not just a famed (nearly invincible) warrior; he was also trained in the arts of medicine by his tutor, Chiron the Centaur. The ancient Greeks believed Achilles discovered the astringent properties of Yarrow and carried it with his army to stem bleeding wounds (Chandler et al.,1982). In addition to wound healing, the Salish boiled leaves and stems of Achillea millefolium for colds and made a compress out of the leaves for toothaches (Hart,1979).

Modern-day chemical analysis and assays of the bioactive compounds in Achillea reinforce traditional medicinal uses. Sesquiterpenes isolated from yarrow display anti-inflammatory properties through inhibition of COX-2, an enzyme involved in inflammation and pain (Applequist & Moerman, 2001; Benedek & Kopp, 2007). Extracts of four Achillea species, including the Achillea millefolium species found in the Flathead National Forest, showed a broad spectrum of antimicrobial activity against seven different strains of pathogenic bacteria and fungi (Saeidnia et al., 2011). The aromatic, delicately feathered leaves and cloud-like flower heads of yarrow contain compounds for a familiar and ever-present need: wound-healing.

Yarrow, *Achillea millefolium*, in flower

St. John’s Wort: revered and reviled

St. John’s Wort, Hypericum perforatum, is native to Eurasia and North Africa, but is now so common in North America it is often considered a noxious weed. The showy, yellow flowers and glandular leaves contain numerous bioactive compounds that are harmful to grazing animals but prove useful for human medicine. St. John’s Wort was used in traditional Chinese, Greek, and Islamic medicine for depression, anxiety, nerve pain, wounds, infections, and inflammation (Barnes et al., 2001). The scientific genus name, Hypericum, is ancient Greek for “above” (hyper) and “picture” (eikon). “Above picture” refers to the tradition of hanging the revered and powerful plant over religious icons (Barnes et al., 2001). The common name, St. John’s Wort, originates from the practice of harvesting the plant during the Midsummer festival, later Chirstinaized as St. John’s Feast Day. Harvesting the flowers at such an auspicious time was believed to make the herb’s healing and magical powers even more potent (Trickey-Bapty, 2001). On the festival day, St. John’s Wort was hung over doorways to ward off evil spirits. This practice inspired another common name: “fuge daemonum” (demon-flight).

Fields of the tall yellow flowers, which excrete a rusty red compound when crushed, are a familiar site along disturbed roads, old logging sites, and burns here on the Flathead National Forest. The plant’s bioactive compounds give it both medicinal properties and also invasive advantages, since the plant engages in allelopathy and releases chemicals into the surrounding soil that inhibit other species’ germination and growth (Aziz, 2006). Chemical analysis reveals two significant bioactive compounds, hypericin and hyperforin, that support several of the traditional uses of St. John’s Wort (Barnes et al., 2001). Hyperforin appears to inhibit serotonin uptake, analogous to conventional selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs), as well as inhibit the uptake of other neurotransmitters like dopamine and norepinephrine (Barnes. 2001). These antidepressant activities are substantiated in randomized controlled studies where the herb is more effective than a placebo and as effective as several conventional antidepressants in mild-to-moderate depression (Barnes, 2001). Hyperforin shows significant antimicrobial and antifungal effects as well as increased collagen synthesis which expediates wound healing (Nobakht, 2022).

St John’s Wort, the plant of demon-flight

A family of pungent herbs: the Mints

One of the oldest surviving medical texts in the world, the ancient Egyptian Ebers Papyrus from 1550 BC, recommends mint for stomach pain and flatulence (Pickering, 2020). The Salish and Kootenai as well as the Blackfeet used a local mint family member, Monarda fistulosa (Beebalm), for stomach pain, toothaches, colds, and fevers (Anderson; Hart 1979). Monarda fistulosa contains thymol, a strong antiseptic, with a cooling, strong flavor and odor that is popular today in mouthwashes and toothpaste (Lawson et al., 2021). The Salish rubbed Monarda fistulosa on the body for a mosquito repellant and sprinkled dried leaves on meat and berries to repel flies and preserve food (Bear Don’t Walk, 2009). The antimicrobial activity of the plant is attributed to terpenoids that slow the growth of certain pathogenic bacteria, like Streptococcus aureus (Anwar et al., 2019). Members of the mint family include an array of herbs such as beebalm, self-heal, horsemint and thyme that caught the attention of people as possessing the revered ability to heal.

Many cultures throughout the ancient and indigenous world recognized the medicinal properties of Yarrow, St. John’s Wort, and mint. The long-standing importance of these plants in the human story explains their persistence as daily shapers of our world today.

References

Anderson, M. Kat. “Wild Bergamot.” United States Department of Agriculture. https://plants.usda.gov/DocumentLibrary/plantguide/pdf/pg_mofi.pdf

Anwar F, Abbas A, Mehmood T, Gilani A-H, Rehman N. Mentha: A genus rich in vital nutra-pharmaceuticals—A review. Phytotherapy Research. 2019; 33, 2548–2570. https://doi.org/10.1002/ptr.6423

Applequist, W.L., Moerman, D.E. Yarrow (Achillea millefolium L.): A Neglected Panacea? A Review of Ethnobotany, Bioactivity, and Biomedical Research¹ . Economic Botany 65, 209–225 (2011). https://doi.org/10.1007/s12231-011-9154-3

Azizi, M. and Fuji, Y. (2006). ALLELOPATHIC EFFECT OF SOME MEDICINAL PLANT SUBSTANCES ON SEED GERMINATION OF AMARANTHUS RETROFLEXUS AND PORTULACA OLERACEAE. Acta Hortic. 699, 61-68 DOI: 10.17660/ActaHortic.2006.699.5 https://doi.org/10.17660/ActaHortic.2006.699.5

Barnes, J., Anderson, L.A. and Phillipson, J.D. (2001), St John’s wort (Hypericum perforatum L.): a review of its chemistry, pharmacology and clinical properties. Journal of Pharmacy and Pharmacology, 53: 583-600. https://doi.org/10.1211/0022357011775910

Bear Don’t Walk, Mitchell Rose, “Recovering our Roots: The Importance of Salish Ethnobotanical Knowledge and Traditional Food Systems to Community Wellbeing on the Flathead Indian Reservation in Montana.” (2019). Graduate Student Theses, Dissertations, & Professional Papers. 11494. https://scholarworks.umt.edu/etd/11494

Benedek, B., Kopp, B. Achillea millefolium L. s.l. revisited: Recent findings confirm the traditional use. Wien Med Wochenschr 157, 312–314 (2007). https://doi.org/10.1007/s10354-007-0431-9

Chandler, R.F., Hooper, S.N. & Harvey, M.J. Ethnobotany and phytochemistry of yarrow, Achillea millefolium, compositae. Econ Bot 36, 203–223 (1982). https://doi.org/10.1007/BF02858720

Hart, Jeffrey A. “The ethnobotany of the Flathead Indians of Western Montana.” Botanical Museum Leaflets, Harvard University 27.10 (1979): 261-307.

Lawson SK, Satyal P, Setzer WN. The Volatile Phytochemistry of Monarda Species Growing in South Alabama. Plants. 2021; 10(3):482. https://doi.org/10.3390/plants10030482

Nobakht SZ, Akaberi M, Mohammadpour AH, Tafazoli Moghadam A, Emami SA. Hypericum perforatum: Traditional uses, clinical trials, and drug interactions. Iran J Basic Med Sci. 2022 Sep;25(9):1045-1058. doi: 10.22038/IJBMS.2022.65112.14338. PMID: 36246064; PMCID: PMC9526892.

Pickering, Victoria. “Plant of the Month: Mint.” JSTOR Daily, 1 April 2020, https://daily.jstor.org/plant-of-the-month-mint/.

Ryan, Tim. “Ethnobotany of the Confederated Salish & Kootenai Tribes.” Montana Native Plant Society Annual Meeting, 28 June 2024, Camp Utmost, Greenough MT. Lecture.

Saeidnia S, Gohari A, Mokhber-Dezfuli N, Kiuchi F. A review on phytochemistry and medicinal properties of the genus Achillea. Daru. 2011;19(3):173-86. PMID: 22615655; PMCID: PMC3232110.

Trickey-Bapty C (2001). Martyrs and miracles. New York: Testament Books. p. 132. ISBN 9780517164037.

Pillars of the Prairie

Posted on 15 August, 2024 by Logan Ullrich

June is over and the heat of July is finally here!

July at Midewin started with placing transect flags at various locations on the prairie that had their fair share of hazards! I was in primarily mesic habitats with the botany technician, Anna, where we faced thickets of sandbar willows (Salix interior), horsetails (Equisetum sp.), and of course the disgusting Phragmites (Phragmites australis).

Following setup, we began the transects and gathered data for the Floristic Quality Index (FQI). During data collection, it reminded me of a live auction where people would shout their bets at a person, but instead it was the latin/common names of the plants being shouted at the tablet holder!

Within the middle of transect season, a few of us CLMs assisted the previous CLM interns, Harsha and Veronica, in brush cutting the awful Autumn Olive (Elaeagnus umbellatum). As a whole, we managed to cut down a great amount of the shrubs and also break a sweat which attracted the sweat bees!

*A goofy closeup of me* *taken by Jonah* *after brush cutting!*

Aside from transects and brush cutting, the latter half of July was spent collecting and scouting for sedges, rushes, and wetland species. While collecting on the prairie, we found ourselves to be dwarfed in comparison to the pillaring beasts that are in the genus Silphium. The largest plants tended to be seven feet tall (or taller) and had golden inflorescences that would sometimes had a critter in the bloom! All four species of rosinweeds were also relatively abundant in most habitats, but only 3 of the 4 species tended to grow with each other. How rude of the plants to not include the fourth species!

The Silphium, in my opinion, are like the trees of the prairie, as they pillar over most prairie vegetation aside from some Big Bluestem (Andropogon gerardi). Additionally, they also act as pillars within the prairie as they are workhorse species within restorations. Truly, they act like pillars with other species to support a small part of the prairie’s foundation.

I hope to one day view these pillaring plants, with their immense leaves, tickle the bellies of Bison within the tallgrass prairie once again just as Aldo Leopold wished. With that, I hope other people can appreciate the absolute behemoths that are within the genus Silphium as much as I do!

Hopefully August will bring more fun on the prairie when the season changes and more plants bloom! See y’all soon!

Fuzzy Plants and Squishy ‘Skegs

Posted on 15 August, 2024 by Sam Emery

Like most Alaskan summers, July has been jam-packed with exploration and new experiences. Many things were learned, and many places were visited.

At the beginning of the month, I spent a week getting lost in graminoids and taking deep dives into grass morphology to improve my identification skills. On the first day of my self-guided grass class, I went out to find some grasses to practice keying, and I stumbled upon a grass I had encountered during my first week in this position. Its name was a mystery to me, but he immediately received a loving nickname—fuzzy boi—a name well earned due to its incredibly soft pubescent culm and leaves. Fuzzy Boi feels like velvet but is not velvet grass (Holcus lanatus), so I needed to give him a suitable nickname so as not to confuse the two. I spent quite a bit of my grass intensive attempting to identify this special grass.

The velvety hairs on the culm of Fuzzy boi.

Despite the challenge, the process of identifying grass species was a rewarding experience. After numerous attempts and some hair-pulling, I was overjoyed to correctly identify ‘fuzzy boi’ as Trisetum Spicatum alaskanum, also known as spike trisetum or spike false-oat. (Be on the lookout for my petition to change its name to Fuzzi boi.) This was a significant milestone in my learning journey.

As I did my silent victory dance before the microscope, I knew I needed confirmation to celebrate genuinely. If I was correct, I had found one of our tricky target grass species for seed collection! Later that week, I went over the grasses I had keyed out with my mentor Peter, and much to my astonishment, I had correctly keyed out several of the species, including fuzzy boi. Finally, I was sure of his real name! Developing the ability to use and understand a dichotomous key in the short period since our training in Chicago, I became astounded by how rapidly the skills I am cultivating in this internship are coming to fruition.

A collection of Trisetum spicatum photos.

I have written a series of Haikus in honor of my newfound favorite grass; enjoy.

-An Ode to the Fuzziest of Boys-

Hairy bluish-green,

Silvery sheen to your fuzz,

Culm soft to the touch,

Who are you?

Softer than an otter pelt,

You are most unique,

I am drawn to you,

Named Trisetum spicatum?

No, my Fuzzy boi.

Examining Fuzzy boi (Trisetum spicatum) in the field.

Throughout July, I have realized that I am innately drawn to species of plants that possess some type of fuzz. I have always felt pulled to the fluffy cotton grasses and spikey drosera varieties growing in muskeg habitats. Cotton grasses are especially amusing, as they look like the Truffula trees in the Lorax. The several varieties of cotton grass species belong to the Eriophorum and Trichophorum genera within the Cyperaceae family. A fact that surprised me to learn, as I would have expected them to all fit into the same genus.

Since several cotton grass species grow in muskeg, they are classified as wetland species. Due to the restoration project that most of our seeds will be going to a riparian habitat, we can explore any species in the Army Corps of Engineers list of wetland species as an option for seed collection. My love of Eriophorum angustifolium (tall cotton grass) resulted in my advocating for it to be added to our target species list this month. We have added several of my beloved muskeg species to our list, including Fritillaria camschatcensis (Chocolate lily), Comarum palustris (Marsh cinquefoil), and Mentanthes trifolia (Buckbean).

The same week as my grass intensive, I was lucky enough to tag along with the wildlife ecology and spruce beetle timber crews in search of a rare grass species, Festuca occidentallis, in two units within our forest. On this excursion, I was lucky enough to pick the brains of several incredibly knowledgeable people about local botany. Through that experience, I was able to practice ID with confirmations from more experienced botanists while getting to ask endless questions about the species around us. My favorite answer to my questions was, “You can tell because of the way it is.” This excursion occurred in a unit ripe with dense populations of many of our target species, enabling me to map out several potential collection populations while rapidly gaining knowledge!

Squishing around in a Muskeg with the Wildlife and Timber crews.

Unfortunately, the week following my deep dive into grasses was a week away from the excitement of the Chugach National Forest, as I had to travel across the country for family matters. I was worried I would lose all of the knowledge I had obtained thus far in my time away. I found myself looking for familiar faces (plants) on the east coast and keeping up on my graminoid morphology.

Upon returning to the Chugach, I quickly realized how much information was preserved in my mind and how useful my notes would be for any information I lost to the Atlantic Ocean. The week of my return brought scouting mission after scouting mission. It was one of the most exciting and fun weeks of work in my life! We met several of the last few species on our target list in person, found some juicy pockets full of large populations of several species to monitor for collection, and had some insane views. My co-intern Maggie and I sought to find as many potential seed collection populations as possible. This mission brought us to some gorgeous locations, many of which were full of dense populations of target species such as Menanthes trifoliata, Eriophorum angustifolium, Mertensia paniculata, Polemonium acutiflorum, Rhinanthus minor, and many more. The most fruitful of all locations was beside a rest stop I had visited many times, the Turnagain Pass rest area. It is a common stop for travelers heading south from the Anchorage area to anywhere on the Kenai Peninsula. Although this area holds a slight significance to me, I hadn’t considered the immense biodiversity of the meadows below the mountains before this internship. I had always been focused on the mountains as I passed by. In fact, Turnagain Pass is where I fell in love with mountains in an epiphany at 14 years old.

My field partner, Maggie, and a dog named Moose we met on the trail.

Through this internship, I have often been reminded of how valuable it is to look into the small things. It is easy to overlook the beauty that is right in front of you, whether that beauty is in the form of a biodiverse meadow being overshadowed by towering mountains, the tiny little stigmas within the floret of grass, or the soft and fuzzy culm of a grass you never noticed before. Don’t forget to take a moment to appreciate the little things.

It’s high time for a July blog post

Posted on 15 August, 2024 by Carston Chancellor

Hello again!

I realized that I didn’t include any pictures in my last post, so I will try better this time to boast some cool photos I’ve taken around the block.

I began my July in Denver, driving down to spend the 4th with some family: we danced, we watched fireworks, we hiked, we ate good food, and we also got stranded on the side of the road…

Me, my two cousins and my sister started the day with a beautiful hike in the Rockies and then waded in a nearby creek. The views were spectacular and the water refreshingly cool. This carefree and peaceful energy was abruptly stifled when my cousin realized that her roommate had forgotten to return the keys of the car before taking off for a different part of the Rockies with her own family. With zero cell service, we had no immediate way of contacting the roommate and asking her to come drop off the keys. So, cooking in the sun on the side of the road, we hailed cars asking them to call the roommate’s number and let them know that her friends are stranded without keys. After a few hours of slaphappiness and desperation, we finally saw her car turn the corner to return us the keys. Yay!

**In the creek, moments before realization hit.**

On another note, work with the RMRS is going smoothly! We are on schedule and collecting a bunch of important data. We are continuing to discover cool bugs, birds, and plants.

Some cool bugs on a thistle (*Cirsium sp.*)

Yesterday was my last day at our Badlands site, and I’m so grateful I was able to work in such a stunning and characteristic region, connecting with history and the past. The Badlands are ancient remnants of life gone by; once the bottom of a former ocean covering the plains, these otherworldly structures of chalky orange, yellow, and cream have been eroding away ever since, leaving streaming striations of colors representing different eons of life. These picturesque towers of old have opened me to more ways to conceptualize our world. They have opened me to the understanding that many facets of our lives are simply consequences of history. We are often in conditions that are the results of decisions and events that have happened before us. That’s why, sitting atop a Badland staring past the blazing sun setting on the prairie, I had the realization that we, this generation, need to do our best to make the right decisions so that others living generations from now will be able to live happily in places diligently conserved by their predecessors. Conservation is so important! Here are some pics I took on a recent trip, enjoy:

I have now only a few more weeks to soak in as much as I can of this experience before having to head home and get ready for grad school in France. Time has moved so quickly, and it will only continue to move faster. Each moment spent here has been so formative and energizing, and I will continue to open myself to the present and absorb as much as I can before leaving this enchanting place.

See you in August, for the last time…

Carston

Battle of the Bull Thistle

Posted on 14 August, 2024 by Anthony Rondon

Another month has passed working with the folks here at the San Bernardino National Forest (SBNF). Time has flown, a testament to the fun I have had working in partnership with the Restoration team here. Despite the laughs shared in the field not every day has been a walk in the park, and this month was witness to a battle between us ecologists/botanists and the most angry non-native perennial herb one could imagine, Bull Thistle (Circium vulagre).

Stare down between myself (right) and some bull thistle (*C. vulgare)* (left) at Johnson’s Meadow.

We ventured out into the San Jacinto Mountains near Idyllwild, California arriving at a site known as Johnson’s Meadow. Equipped with serrated shovels, leather gloves, trash bags, and clippers in hand to go up against the large spikes of the thistles which are non-native to this riparian meadow nestled into the Southern California mountains. This area was identified as ecologically important due to the presence of a threatened species Scutellaria bolanderi ssp, austromontana a perennial herb native to California and found most commonly in wetland areas such as in the ephemeral stream that runs through this meadow.

Flowers of Southern skullcap (*S. bolanderi ssp. austromontana)* Source:Calflora: Information on California plants for education, research and conservation. [web application]. Berkeley, California: The Calflora Database [a non-profit organization]. Available: https://www.calflora.org/ (Accessed: July 30, 2024).

Johnson’s Meadow also happens to be a grazing pasture for a local farmer’s cows, and therefore exclusion fences were put up around the identified population of southern skullcap (S. bolanderi) in order to prevent the cows from consuming this threatened species as a tasty snack. There are additionally milk weed populations (Asclepias eriocarpa) at the meadow that rely on native pollinators which are often just as enamored with the thistles as they are with the milk weed.

A female monarch butterfly *(Danaus plexippus)* decides a prickly bull thistle flower head makes for the perfect landing pad.

In order to combat the threat to local biodiversity that bull thistle poses, a group of forest service field techs, myself and Arturo with the CLM internship program, and Lance Woolley the district botanist for the San Jacinto side of the SBNF joined forces on a 3-day weeding spree. The meadow was full of tall, spiky thistle plants peeking up above the dense grasses and native California wild rose (Rosa californica) that filled much of the area. When we came up upon a thistle plant we first had to check if any of the flower heads had bloomed or gone to seed. If they had even bloomed (the purple puff sitting on top of that green spiky ball at the end of each stalk) we had to clip the flower head and place it into a trash bag for removal from the area. If the flower head had already gone to seed we did our best to remove these carefully without releasing the wind dispersed seeds into the surrounding areas. This process was difficult on its own due to the large spikes that cover every inch of a bull thistle from the stem, to the leaves, to the flower head. These spikes were often large enough to pierce straight through our pig-skin leather gloves. The only safe spot to grab a bull thistle is from the underground root once you’ve wrenched the sucker out of the ground. The process was made even more difficult due to bull thistles seeming preference of growing either next to huge patches of California wild rose (R. californica), stinging nettle (Urtica dioica), or if you are really lucky you can get the trifecta of all 3 pressed up next to each other!

An example of a bull thistle plant with both the purple flower head (front) as well as the brown/beige seed head (back) spotted in Johnson’s Meadow.

In total after 3 days of work and a crew of forest service employees, interns, and a crew from the Urban Conservation Corps, we were able to remove the vast majority of the bull thistle biomass from Johnson’s Meadow. The population there had to have exceeded 500 and I wish we had kept an accurate count day to day of how many plants we removed but pulling thistle in the middle of July in Southern California is no joke, and we were lucky to remember our names at the end of the day let alone an accurate count. Regardless the district botanists Lance seemed to be pleased with our final result. The battle of the bull thistle ended with victory siding with California natives in Johnson’s Meadow primarily due to the intervention of people who care about conserving and protecting the diversity of our public lands! It was inspiring to look out and see how much we were able to make an impact, yet simultaneously it was daunting considering how many meadows just like this one exist that cannot be managed through human intervention. The battle of the bull thistle may have ended for this growing season in Johnson’s meadow, but something tells me the race for dominance between native and non-native species is just heating up.

Images of Johnson’s Meadow before (top) and after (bottom) removal of invasive bull thistle *(C. vulgare)*.

New friends and Newts!

Posted on 14 August, 2024 by Beth Haney

This month has been full of new plants, insects, and adventures! Seed collection has started to pick up in early July, so we began trying to scout as many populations as possible before they started to disperse. Dean and I found a gorgeous site for one of our target species, Penstemon newberryi, as well as a neat wetland with native pond lilies. I had to go take a look at the blooms!

We began exploring further away from the office and came across Pyramid Creek Trailhead, which happened to have a significant amount of our target species there, as well as gorgeous views of Horsetail Falls and the Desolation Wilderness. We have spent a few days going back there for phenology checks as well as seed collections! So far, we have collected Penstemon newberryi, Chlorogalum pomeridianum, Hosackia oblongifolia, and more to come soon!

My family came and visited me to see my new home! we explored the area and went to Lake Tahoe. They were so excited to see California again after moving to Idaho! We also went to see the Rubicon Trail, which is an off-roading trail that is some serious business. I don’t think my little Jeep is up to the task!

Dean and I have had the amazing privilege of assisting the Pollinator Team from Cal State East Bay. We collected data for a pollinator network for Lewisia kellogii and Calochortus clavatus var. avius. Learning more about pollinator work is fascinating, and I’m feel so lucky that we made some amazing new friends!

Yosemite!! I have been waiting for this for a while, and I finally got to go with Iris and Matt! We explored the park for a weekend, and it was absolutely fantastic. This park is very special and definitely worth the visit! We were there during a stormy weekend which was fantastic to see so much water and lightning!

Then, it finally happened. Dean and I drove to the north zone of the forest in search of some target species and stopped by a creek to eat lunch. There it was, sitting on a rock in the shallows… a NEWT! I have never seen a newt before, and it was magical. Best day yet!

On my free time, I went to Grass Lake with Matt, which is California’s largest fen. I have never been in a fen before, which the feeling is like a waterbed. Matt and I explored, finding some neat, rare Carex species, some little friends, and a rare mushroom that Dean collected for sequencing!

Dean and I went to go check on an Anderson’s Thistle site to see if seeds were ready to be collected, and Dean spotted something amazing! There was a large bright yellow bumble bee, that turned out to be Morrisons Bumble Bee which is a threatened species. So wonderful to see two of them in one day!

Finally, to end this month, we assisted in a training for Botrychium surveying. Seeing these in real life was pretty insane, they are smaller than I imagined! I am excited to now know what habitats they like to go look for them on my free time! We then finished off the day by watching a baby Saw-whet owl up in a tree.