Who Carex about New England plant diversity?

New England Wild Flower Society—27th 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 1st, 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)

A Myriad of Experiences

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

Boatloads of Fun in Klamath Falls

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.