New England Wild Flower Society—27^th of June 2017

I am not new to fieldwork, but I am new to domestic fieldwork. This summer marks the first time I am muddying my boots, avoiding itch-inducing insects and learning the native flora on the lands of the United States. Previously I have worked in tropical forests, where it is no secret that hundreds of plant species can be found in an area smaller than the size of a football field. The tropical forests are diverse by all measures—it is something I have been hearing my whole life. This is why I didn’t give much thought to the diversity of New England plant life before beginning my internship.

A month in, I must admit that I still have not learned to identify every plant. In fact, a few New England genera include hundreds of species. (As a quick reminder, a genus is the first part of any organism’s scientific name. The species is the second part.) With almost 200 species, Carex takes the top spot as most speciose genus in New England. Since beginning our program on June 1^st, we have only spotted and identified about ten Carex, a mere fraction. Even those I need to study more.

As a hiker we met during one of our field outings exclaimed, It takes an expert to distinguish among the Carex. Fortunately, we always carry a handy book to help us in the field and back at the office with our pressed vouchers; Sedges of Maine: A Guide to Cyperaceae, which is written by experts. Sometimes, we flip through the Sedges of Maine until we find something that looks like the Carex standing in front of us. Sometimes the species is not even listed in the book. Still, we try our best to determine the correct species from the hundreds of possibilities.

Rather than order a copy (though it’s a great resource for anyone interested), read on for a quick introduction to Carex. As the title suggests, Carex are in the sedge family, Cyperaceae. Sedges may be mistaken for grasses by an untrained eye, but sedges often have angled edges and may be triangular. Most grasses are round. Among sedges, Carex have one unique structure that sets them apart. The perigynium (PEAR-ih-GIN-eeyum) is a bottle-shaped structure that sheathes the female flower, which later becomes the Carex fruit. The Carex fruit is like a tiny nut and the perigyium shelters it from wind and animals until it is mature. Several perigynium, or perigynia, stack in a spiral shape along the Carex tip. The variation in species is often best seen by examining the texture or arrangement of the perigynia on the Carex. These are some of the first details we examine, but the width of the leaves, the height of the plant and the orientation of the perigynia are also important. Shown below are some examples of the diversity in Carex. Learn more on Go Botany.

Because the Carex are so diverse, they are found in several different habitats around New England. Our internship aids coastal restoration projects, so we will focus on the coastal Carex, but it is humbling to recognize the diversity in the genera and in New England. As well as the ease of which we can lose ourselves in the search for the right species name.

Until next time,

Elizabeth

P.S. My brother helped me with the title. Thank you, Daniel!

Carex stricta should be one of our first seed collections (Exeter, NH)

The perigynia of Carex comosa are very spiky and sometimes painful (Exeter, NH)

Compare the number of perigynia between Carex intumescens and Carex lupulina (Exeter, NH)

Well, another 3 weeks have flown by! It is hard to imagine that so much time has passed. As the title of this post implies, I have had countless experiences. I will just touch on a few I found most meaningful.

First, attending the CBG Workshop in Chicago was by far one of the greatest learning experiences I’ve had thus far. The knowledge I’ve gained gained on plants was heavily reinforced and jogged many memories from my graduate classes in Nebraska. Also, simply the real-talk on getting jobs after this internship were beyond beneficial. I feel slightly more prepared to apply for and get a job after the CLM Internship.

Second, we began monitoring the riparian systems the allotment we were assigned for the field season and continued monitoring the cattle. Having never worked on a riparian system, I was excited to learn whatever I could from my mentor and the permittee that accompanied us the first day. Just hearing the permittee’s thoughts on the land and management practices was amazing. The plethora of knowledge he had was quite surprising as well. I believe that his accompaniment further enhanced the learning process. He even went so far as to test us on the land formations around us after he taught us the names. That was unexpected pleasure and helped ingrain the names into my mind. My partner and I practiced saying the names of the formations while doing compliance checks for cattle.

Surveying for Cattle Compliance Within a Previously Burned Pasture

Last, the amazing views and critters I have seen while monitoring have been awe-inspiring. The abundance of Pronghorn still surprises me. The young of the year have grown so much in the past few weeks. It is interesting seeing how many are very timid and run at the sight of our truck but others wait until we get fairly close before bounding off with their mother.

Other critters we’ve seen thus far include sage grouse (with young!), Golden Eagle, Lark Sparrows, Lark Buntings, Mule Dear, and horny toads! I thought a horny toad was horny, toad but was surprised to find out it is a lizard (I honestly have not heard of them until coming to Wyoming). The horny toad was super cute and made our day in the field that much more pleasant.

Horny Toad Found While Doing Vegetation Monitoring

Photo from “Above the Rim” Near Our Allotment

I look forward to the weeks ahead in the field. Fingers-crossed we don’t get stuck or have a flat tire anytime soon!

Until next time,

– James Noyama
Bureau of Land Management – Lander Field Office                                                 Lander, Wyoming

A beautiful day on the Gerber Reservoir

Spring has quickly progressed to summer here in the Klamath Basin. Nights are still cool, but the daytime temperatures have gotten to be a very comfortable 75-85. With the warming weather, work is shifting from in the office to in the field, a most welcome change. Although I will admit that Marissa and I recently remodeled our cubicles, and they are both looking mighty cheery these days. Speaking of Marissa, at the time of this writing she is off at a conference in Hawaii, and I’m holding down the fort here in Klamath Falls.

On another note, I would like to point out that cattle love to poop. It must be their favorite hobby. Either that, or standing in the middle of whatever road you find yourself driving down. Biologists are generally less concerned with why the cow failed to make it all the way across the road. We like cow poop. Sometimes cattle poop in unfortunate areas, like in and along streams and ponds. And where there are cattle, there are cattle trails. Cattle can expedite the process of erosion, change the composition of the riparian habitat, and decrease water quality. In the case of streams serving as critical habitat for endangered species, these effects are notably unwelcome. A few weeks ago, a few of us from the office set off on a mission to confirm and/or deny that cattle were accessing certain stretches of a few remote rivers. Ladies and gentleman, enter the enthralling sport of cow-pie hunting. We would leave early in the morning, drive four-wheel drive roads, get lost, encounter snow, hike off trail, and be deterred by dangerous river crossings. All in the pursuit of poop!

Heading off into the Williamson River delta with a boatload of wocus plants ready to be transplanted

Getting ready to sink an array of wocus plants

Poop is fun, and so is underwater gardening! Just this week I donned a dry suit and hopped in a roadside wetland. Submerged up to my neck, I followed the stems of lily pads down to the muddy sediment below. In this rich muck, I felt blindly for the big, hunking tuber of the wocus. With a circumference larger than a coffee mug and a texture resembling a pineapple sans spines, I would scrap, pull, push, chop, wiggle, and heave at the often several-foot long tuber to free it from its benthic home. Once free, the tuber would float on the surface, giving no indication that in fact prefers to be buried several feet down below the surface. These wocus plants will be transplanted to a Nature Conservancy property in an effort to reestablish the natural wetland areas that were once there.

Pulling in a fyke net to sample for suckers!

Whether poop hunting or extreme underwater gardening, the field season here sure is heating up. Other activities have or will soon include electrofishing, zooplankton sampling, larval fish studies, goose banding, and fish netting. I’m glad my work here has offered up plenty of opportunities to explore, learn, gain professional experience, and hone my underwater gardening skills.

The last week of June has been glorious in terms of weather but the rest was very hot and humid.  I had the opportunity to participate in a few non-plant related activities recently.  I assisted with a breeding bird survey and tagged along with the park’s geologist intern to visit some caves and poke around for fossils.  I still got out to do some plant surveying though.

One plant that occasionally gets overlooked by some is Polygonatum pubescens (Hairy Soloman’s Seal).  It grows alongside and appears very similar to another species within this genus, Polygonatum biflorum (Soloman’s Seal).   Fortunately, once you are aware of the two species they are easily distinguished even without flowers.  The leaves of Polygonatum pubescens have lines of hairs on their underside while Polygonatum biflorum’s leaves are glabrous throughout.

Polygonatum pubescens (Hairy Soloman’s Seal)

Polygonatum pubescens (Hairy Soloman’s Seal) A close-up of the leaf underside showing the rows of hairs along the veins. Folding it over the finger like this seems to be the best way to see them. A hand lens is not required to see them.

I feel obligated to mention that distinguishing the genus of Polygonatum in a vegetative state from other similar genera took me several seasons to learn.  Some of the genera that can look similar to Polygonatum in the eastern U.S. are Maianthemum spp., Uvularia spp., Prosartes spp., and Streptopus spp.  It’s also worth mentioning that the synonym for Maianthemum is Smilacina while the synonym for Prosartes is Disporum.   Distinguishing these genera when in flower is a lot simpler.  However, typically Polygonatum spp. can be separated from Maiantheum racemosum by leaf margin characters and these two genera I just mentioned can be separated from Prosartes spp. and Streptopus spp. by whether or not their stalks are forked.  I have never personally seen Streptopus spp. in the field.

I also found Ruellia strepens (Limestone Wild Petunia) in flower this month and realized just how inconspicuous it is when it is not in flower.  The common name of this plant is slightly misleading.  Although it may grow predominately in limestone areas it is not limited to them.  One of the populations I found was around the Potomac Gorge area in a floodplain forest.  This species is listed in Maryland as a S2S3.

Ruellia strepens (Limestone Wild Petunia)

Ruellia strepens (Limestone Wild Petunia) The calyx lobe width is an important character in distinguishing species within this genus.

Not far from where I found the Ruellia I checked out a rocky river outcrop along the Potomac and found two other state listed species.  One of those species was Trachelospermum difforme (Climbing Dogbane) which I discussed in a blog entry last season and is an S1 (Endangered) species.  The other was Hibiscus laevis (Halberdleaf Rosemallow) an S3 (Watchlist) plant.  I guess the interesting thing about the photos I took is that they show each plant in an immature state.

I should note as I stated in my previous entry that leaf shape for climbing dogbane is listed as “variable” in the manuals.  To my eyes the young leaf grow was linear and narrow with more vigorous/older stems showing the orbicular and wider leaf shape I was used to seeing.  With that said I can’t be certain if these young “narrow leaves” will retain their shape as they grow or morph into the orbicular form.  I also can’t be certain whether or not this narrow growth is a result of physical damage to the stems.  The stems are exposed to potential damage from flooding and visitor trampling.  Additionally, in my previous post I neglected to mention that some species descriptions for climbing dogbane state that milky sap is not always detected when its tissue is broken.  As with all populations I have encountered on the Potomac, these plants did have milky sap.

Trachelospermum difforme (Climbing Dogbane)

Trachelospermum difforme (Climbing Dogbane) The population was in fierce competition with Campsis radicans, Toxicodendron radicans, and the non-native shrub, Ulmus pumila.

Halberdleaf Rosemallow is not especially uncommon along the Potomac River.  The pictures I took captured it at about the half way point in terms of its growth height.  The leaf shape is very distinctive.  It could be confused with Hibiscus moscheutos (Crimsoneyed Rosemallow) which can have slight lobing of the basal portions of some leaves.  Typically Halberdleaf Rosemallow holds true to its name and possesses well defined lobes throughout.  One of the interesting observations I noted from this population was the deformities in the leaves as seen in the pictures.

Hibiscus laevis (Halberdleaf Rosemallow)

Hibiscus laevis (Halberdleaf Rosemallow)

Hibiscus laevis (Halberdleaf Rosemallow) This picture shows an example of the leaf deformities I observed. This type of deformity occurred in every clump of plants though varied in abundance on each stem.

I’ve crossed the halfway point of my internship once more.  July will be a busy month because many of the G1-G3 priority species on my list are flowering in that period.   July on the Potomac is particularly exciting for me because the decrease in rainfall that usually occurs opens access to certain islands and scour bars on the river where so many interesting and rare plants grow.

I wouldn’t consider myself an eloquent person, particularly when it comes to reflecting upon experiences I’ve had. This perception of myself has made it difficult for me to sit down and write this blog-post. Thus, I’ll try to keep it concise.

This internship has forced me out of my comfort zone in more ways than one. I find myself stumbling upon new plants and wildlife that, as a native east coaster, seem otherworldly. From a political perspective, I am absolutely a minority as I’ve relocated from New York, possibly the liberal epicenter of the country, to Wyoming.

This internship, although I am just six weeks into it, is exposing me to more than just a potential career with a federal agency or as a botanist. It is introducing me to new people and perspectives I wouldn’t otherwise come across. It is forcing me to change the way I discuss the environment and other issues I feel are important.

I don’t want to spend too much time talking about my workday since many of the other blog posts seem to focus on that, but also because thus far, the most valuable experience for me as a result of this internship has been the culture shock of relocating my life to a completely new place. I’ve adjusted plenty over the last six weeks, and I look forward to finding out what the rest of this internship will introduce me to.

E. Grapstein -–Buffalo Field Office, Buffalo, WY

Hello from my front porch in Somerville, Massachusetts! I am currently enjoying a hot cup of tea, the sounds of the city, the lingering smell of warm afternoon rain on asphalt and cement, and a moment of reflection on the incredible first week I have just had with the internship of my dreams at the New England Wild Flower Society’s Garden in the Woods .

Studying plant ecology at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, I never forgot how privileged I was to grow into my passion for the subject in such a rich botanical area. When I applied to the CLM program I steeled myself to head west and say goodbye to many of my favorite plants. I was excited to learn the botany of a new area but sad to leave the extreme diversity of my eastern home state. Imagine my delight when the offer from NEWFS’s Seeds of Success team came through my inbox carrying the promise of six more months with all that familiar diversity (and then some – our collection list includes over three hundred target species!).

An especially vibrant and somewhat blurry Kalmia about to bloom at NEWFS’s Garden in the Woods. A familiar face from my time working in the Southern Appalachians!

My SOS colleagues in the West are able to collect from huge swaths of BLM property, but the three SOS East teams work within a patchwork landscape that has been extensively occupied and developed on both geographic and temporal scales. Interns here face an additional stage in this early season: the hunt for permission. We are tasked with searching out properties of relevant habitat and adequate size and then directly requesting collection permits from land trusts and other conservation agencies. I have written a lot of emails this week! Fortunately, most conservationists in the area understand the significance of our project and are more than willing to allow us access to their properties. Though the East lacks the great open conservation lands of the West, it is truly amazing how many ecological gems you can still find tucked among historic cities and farmland, lovingly preserved by centuries of botanists, ecologists, and nature enthusiasts at large.

Of course, it wouldn’t be botany job if we didn’t sneak away from the office and hit the field for some flora study! Our awesome mentor Michael Piantedosi very transparently tried to make us all fall in love with New England this week (as if we needed any prompting) by taking us to two of the most gorgeous tracts of land I have ever seen.

First up was the Parker River National Wildlife Refuge, a property of a staggering 4700+ acres of salt marsh and barrier sand dunes. It is truly something to look out over such a great expansive of marsh, broken up only by the alternating shades of Spartina patens, Juncus gerardii, and cuts of blue water. The dunes were equally beautiful and some of the tallest I have ever seen, held together by clumps of lichens and Hudsonia tomentosa and peaked with tufts of dune-building Ammophila breviligulata.

Not a tree in sight! Could this really be Massachusetts?

Hudsonia tomentosa (beach heather) in flower, framed by Ammophila breviligulata (American beachgrass). The guardians of the back dunes!

Yesterday we visited Ponkapoag Bog, a completely new habitat type for me. This location is remarkably just a handful of miles out of Boston in the Blue Hills but it feels like it’s on a different planet. We slipped and slid our way along the partially submerged boardwalk to scout out a number of Ericads and sedges, ooh and aah at the majestic Sarracenia purpurea, and squish a lot of Sphagnum. The next time we visit we’ll be armed with waders!

Michael Piantedosi leading the way through the bog and quietly suffering the loss of feeling in his wet feet.

My field notes are full of misspelled Latin after being introduced to so many new plants, but in just a few weeks I know my co-interns and I will be old hats at recognizing our target species and these feverish days of crowding around floras and cramming field characters will seem silly. I am not sure what stage of familiarizing myself with local botany I like better – meeting new species with fresh, eager eyes, or greeting them later as old friends.

My new favorite plant? Nuttalanthus canadensis, blue toadflax. See(d) you in three weeks when you fruit up!

Every day I have to take a moment to revel in the fact that this is really my life. I have never been so happy to go to work! I am endlessly grateful to the CLM program for this opportunity, and unbelievably excited for what the next six months hold.

Until next time!

-Alex