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Working opposite ends of a meadow, my teammate and I were seeking out the long slender culms of Columbia needlegrass for collection. Searching for the nearly imperceptible needle grass in the haystack requires slow, methodical, combing while looking for a … Continue reading
By and large, seed collecting here in central Idaho has been going quite well. We’ve picked bags and bags of fleabanes, needlegrass, wheatgrass, and fiddlenecks. The season has been a bit behind so far, but the last few weeks, our plants must have finally heard the wake-up call of summer and decided to finally get in motion. All of a sudden, we went from having no seeds to gather to running all over the forest, trying to keep up with everything!
There are a handful of plants that are still evading us, of course. One of those is Lathyrus lanszwertii, the Nevada pea. We’ve followed a handful of leads for it, all of which turned out to be dead ends – including a half-hour drive on a very bumpy mountain road to be taunted by a patch of Lathyrus pauciflorus, the few-flowered pea. (Guess how much luck we’d have trying to collect 30,000 seeds from that?) And when all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail, so Dan and I have been on high alert for anything that vaguely resembles this enigmatic legume. Our curiosity (read: desperation) led us last week into a decent bit of misadventure.
Early Wednesday morning, while scouting for wild mint (Agastache urticifolia), I followed the trail a little farther up the streambank to find a string of brilliant purple flowers growing among the alders. Could this finally be our pea? I hopped over the rocks to pick a flower off and scour our field guide. It had five petals, reflexed backwards, pinnate leaves, a vining growth form – this had to be it. But the stamens grew in a dense, tangled knot around the center of the flower. That’s strange, I thought. Fabaceae has just a handful of stamens and they’re fused to each other.
We started searching the guide for any kind of purple flowers. Suddenly, Dan insisted, “Drop that thing on the ground right now.”
“What?” I said.
“Get rid of it! That’s called monkshood. Haven’t you ever heard of it?”
“No…?”
“It’s, like, the most poisonous plant in the West. Eating one flower is enough to knock you dead. It’ll absorb through skin, too.”
Holy moly! This stuff is no joke. I did some digging on the internet, and sure enough, the lethal dose of monkshood is about a gram. It turns out its Latin name, Aconitum, means “without suffering” because its symptoms appear within minutes, and you die within a few hours. People have actually died from just skin contact with it, although all the reports seemed to be from gardeners who planted it (!?) and were working amidst it for hours on end. We hopped in the jeep and quickly drove back to our house to shower off. After scrubbing our hands with every kind of soap we owned and satisfying ourselves that we weren’t likely to die, we headed back out to cautiously get back to work – and, as any good botanist would do, to get a picture of it for our own plant photo album.
As they say, an adventure is a story that is miserable while you’re creating it and fun to tell in comfort later. And this sure was one of those! Make sure you know the poisonous plants that grow where you’re working and how to avoid them – and definitely don’t eat things you don’t recognize!
😉
It was a hot summer day when I first met Collin. The sun was high, searing my back with radiation, meadowlarks sang on fenceposts, cows mooed cordial greetings. I’m working hard collecting biomass clippings at our Cedar Pass field cite, making sure to properly sort my species. Cool season grass in one bag, warm season in another, work which would otherwise be tedious if not for the sweet sweet strummings of Masayoshi Takanaka massaging my brain through pale earbuds.
I clip the final blade in my rectangular quadrat and grasp at my canteen. Out on the prairie it’s essential to remain hydrated, especially on certified steamers such as this. “Alass! ‘Tis empty! Whatever shall I do?” I announce to the world. A nearby cow responds with a sympathetic, “Moo”. I reel back, shaking a clenched fist at the sun, cursing the infernal radiator which sears my skin. I quickly come to my senses and remember the large cooler filled with ice cold water residing within our vehicle. With a newfound purpose I stagger towards the truck, trudging slowly through the brush. After what feels like 30 seconds I’m no more than 50 meters from the truck, and that’s when I see him.
A small creature dressed in an olive green burlap sack, hunched over like a gargoyle on the tailgate of our truck. “Must be the accursed sun playing tricks on mine eyes, a mirage of sorts, says I,” but as I continue my approach, the creature remains. I reach the truck and the creature stands to greet me. Assessing its features: pointed ears, knobby knees, and a long hooked nose, I conclude the nature of this odd organism; I have come face to face… with a goblin.
“Greetings friend,” the goblin croons, “I have been waiting for you.”
I respond calmly (for I am used to such things), “Salutations, what brings you round these here parts?”
“You, brave mage, I am here for you. My people have lived here for generations, supping from the earth its bountiful gifts. We have flourished by living in balance with the ecosystem which supports us. However, I am afraid our times of peace and prosper are nearing their end. For you see these lands are suffering; plagued by the industry of man, unable to sustain natural equilibrium. Our village seer foretells a great warming of the globe, which spells the eventual destruction of not just our people and our home, but of yours as well. I am but one herald of thousands, sent to seek people such as yourself and forewarn them of this forthcoming doom”.
“Tell me, wise one, what role do I have to play in this epic? What shall I do?”
“What you can, young one, what you can. My goblin intuition tells me the work you are doing here could potentially aid in maintaining the balance of these lands. Apocalyptic weather conditions await us, and the data you are collecting now will serve as a roadmap, or foundation for future generations to survive the storm. You must continue collecting and surveying, for knowledge and science are a powerful magic, human.”
“I will try my best,” I state, looking out at the beautiful landscape surrounding me.
I fill my flagon, and begin to return to my work. Just as I cross the barbed wire fence, I realize, I never asked the name of this brave messenger. “Wait! What is your name wise goblin?” I shout before even turning around, but as I do, a powerful gust of wind rips at my clothes, blowing off my hat. A cloud of dust bellows, swallowing the goblin. When the dust settles, he is gone.
Forlorn, I stare at a lone cloud in the sky. “Collin…” a voice calls out to me as the cloud slowly starts to form the shape of the creature, “my name is Collin, and child…”
“Yes?” I ask the sky.
“Tell my story.”
As I hear these final words, the Collin cloud slowly forms a thumbs up and smiles, revealing the sun hidden behind. I wince, raising my arm to shade my eyes. Once my vision refocuses, the cloud is gone, and Collin with it. For a second I doubt he was ever there to begin with; just the heat playing tricks on my mind. My heart, however, knows the truth.
“I will Collin… I will.”
Kneeling over to pick up my hat, I soak in the beauty of the earth for a brief moment before returning to my work, to save the world.
The tides of fashion and style are fast-moving and ever changing. We have moved on from the passé world of aerial cover and stem counts. The new, hip trends are biomass clipping and stem demography. An untrained eye might be wondering how these new styles differ from last season’s, but never fear, for I will spend the next 500 words explaining exactly why biomass clipping and stem demography are all the rage.
In my journeys for the highest echelons of sophistication, I spent several weeks fully immersed in the world of biomass clipping. The process is quite simple. All you need is a pair of gardening shears, a quadrat elevated 15 cm above the ground, and bags to sort the clippings into. And also chaining pins to hold the quadrat in place as well as tape measures to ensure you’re clipping in the right place. And you can’t forget about a ruler to keep the shears level, a pencil, datasheets, and a box to hold everything in. Like I said, simple.
It is vitally important to make sure you correctly sort the clippings because, as any amateure would tell you, pattern mixing is an immediate faux-pas. My boss claims that we have to sort correctly because it is important to know exactly how much of the different plant functional groups there are in order to answer our research questions about drought and grazing, but I think we all know the main reason is because of fashion.
Once we have biomass clippings from all 162 plots, we take them back to the lab and put them in a drying oven, so that we can get their dry-weight. As someone who spends hours a day in a tanning bed, I can vouch for this method. It’s so important to dry yourself out, and it makes your skin look incredible. Now any street savvy fashionista may be thinking “plants don’t have skin, silly! How can you even make that comparison?” Well, darlings, the results speak for themselves. After spending 72 hours in a drying oven, the plants aren’t sagging anymore. They’re stiff and hold their shape beautifully.
Now we simply must move on to the wonderful world of stem demography and leaf stage development. The process of collecting this data involves measuring the culm and longest leaf height of specific blades of grass as well as counting stems in a very small quadrat. As a purveyor of style, there is nothing more in vogue than self care, and there is no better mode of self care than collecting stem demography and leaf stage development data.
Gone are the days of stem counting where you have to collect the data and write it down. When collecting stem demography data, you need only speak aloud the data you have collected and your partner writes it on the data sheet. One feels like a queen, speaking a completed data sheet into existence since when you went down to examine the grass, the data sheet was empty and upon coming up, it is full. Treating yourself luxuriously is one of the cornerstones of self care, and luxury is at its peak when you are face first in the dirt with sweat dripping straight onto the ground instead of down your body. I will be recommending this method to my spin class immediately, and I advise all of my dear readers to do the same.
Would you look at the time! I hate to leave you, my loves, but I must away. Keep an eye out for next week’s article about another trend Treans (Tree jeans)
Don’t forget to walk the runway of life with purpose and panache 💋
Since last month, things have been moving along quite well, and quite as expected. We’ve started a handful of collections, and we’ve been keeping a close eye on scouted populations as we continue to keep eyes out for any new populations that may be coming up as summer hits us full force. As with any new job, there is a lot of information to take in and a lot of discrepancies in the small details as compared to other places. These small differences are easy to become acquainted with once you’ve become acquainted with them, and especially when you have kind and patient coworkers to help you along.
The same can be said for the plants. They are similar everywhere you go. You can see in most of them some familial resemblance that ques you into their relation. You remember the general trends and fashions of things, but it is the tiny details that can trip you up. Each key has different breaks that can cause trouble for us botanists. Of course each plant presents it’s own set of genetics that may or may not allow it to hybridize within its community and so on and so forth. The troubles you can run into are endless and all part of the “art” and the FUN of keying as many botanists, including myself, would tell you.
It turns out that much like becoming acquainted with coworkers, one can quite quickly become acquainted with the surrounding plant life. Running through the key each time we see someone on our list is incredibly fun. What is even more entertaining, and confidence-boosting is being so familiar with these individuals that we know which features to look for which set them apart from others. This also allows us to be more efficient with our time spent in the field, if we can pinpoint those key features. Many plants on the Helena-Lewis and Clark National Forests so far have been kind “coworkers,” if you will. Geum triflorum has three pronged leaves that make it obviously “triflorum.” Green gentian has green flowers as opposed to the white flowers of the other Frasera in our area. And Geranium viscossissimum is quite sticky and the only pink-flowered perennial geranium around, and G. richardsonii is the only white-flowered perennial geranium, so those are both simple enough to get to know.
I cannot say the same for Penstemon albertinus. Penstemon albertinus is like that person in the office who is incredibly shy and reserved, yet you know they’re REALLY cool, so you invite them to every party, but they are always busy doing other things and so you never get the chance to actually know them. Oh, and they have a twin named Penstemon attenuatus who often shows up to your parties, but you think upon first seeing them that maybe, just this once, it could be albertinus. The anthers are glaborus, the verticillasters are open. You note the acute tips on the stem leaves and hope it’s just a morphological difference. But as you get closer, you find the basal leaves to be quite thinner than Albert’s and you know you’ve again been fooled by Attenuatus.
When this occurs over and over, it can be quite frustrating, and makes you question your abilities as a budding botanist. In this case, we asked the botany techs based out of Helena. They so kindly invited us out for a couple days together in the field so they could share some of their experience and knowledge from four years on the forest. During this time, we did spend some time with Penstemon. Both Dayna and I were relieved to find that we are not the only ones Penstemon rejects. In fact, Nate mentioned there are many conversations had over the exact differences between the two species, and even with his four years of experience in the area, he still has to return to the details each year to refamiliarize himself with the need-to-knows. So we’ve begun to accept that we may just never be on very good terms with Albertinus. We may just have to take a key to this particular individual each and every time we meet in order to truly ensure we’re accurately identifying. Which is great practice and it makes you appreciate the more “firiendly” and straightforward plants all that much more, and forces you to really hone in on those botancial skills and instincts. I’m looking forward to finding more challenging individuals throughout the season, and hope to learn a lot from them!
This season our Seeds of Success squad has been tasked with piloting a new Midwest Seed collection group, based out of the Chicago Botanic Garden. As this is a new agreement between the CBG and the USFWS, we have been tasked with navigating the territory that comes with a brand new project. Initially, we spent time reaching out to refuge managers, explaining the goals of the program and acquiring a target species list of around 150 species (and still growing :)), before meeting with many land managers and scheduling field work for later in the summer.
Over the first half of the season, we traveled throughout Illinois, Iowa, Minnesota, and Wisconsin visiting many federal parcels, as well as private and public partner lands, surveying target populations. We have seen Wet, Mesic, Dry, and Sand Praries, Oak Savannas, Woodlands, Wetlands and little bit of everything in between (Yay transition zones!). It has been a little challenging at times to find populations that are both remnant and large enough to sustainably collect from, but we have been successful in making 10 collections at this point in time. Some of my favorite plants that we have seen so far include those in the Orobanchaceae family, including the Wood Betony (Pedicularis canadensis), Downy Cup Paintbrush (Castilleja sessiflora), and Scarlet Paintbrush (Castilleja coccinea). We have even been able to return and collect from a few of these populations since these photos were taken!
With great regional travel, comes a great deal of meals on the road. This has led our “All Midwestern Crew” to branch out and try some of the most local delicacies as possible, some of which have been uncommon even to the most ope-ing, pop drinking, ranch devouring, over “thank you”-ing crew around. While slightly smaller than our target species list, it has been enjoyable growing our Midwest Regional Food List, regularly adding new, rare (and generally high caloric) Mid-American cuisine. Iowa has been special to me in particular, allowing me to try to find the top tenderloin in the region. While there may be many, some are better than others, and my go to for a top quality tenderloin is Goldies Ice Cream Shop in Prairie City. Not too far from the entrance to Neal Smith NWR, you head in for the Ice Cream, but will return for the Magg Special, a sandwich that combines a cheeseburger on top of the standard (extra crispy) tenderloin. Great food and also the best restaurant service that I have been offered since early 2020.
What would a Midwest food list be without food from the heart, good Ol Chicago. Our crew has been fortunate enough to have many Portillo’s and Museums within the general vicinity, allowing us to enrich both our bodies and minds with Italian Beefs, Hot Dogs and Art to our hearts content. There has also been a lot of talk about Chicago Style Deep Dish Pizza, which we are yet to sample as a crew, but true fans of Chicago Style Pizza know Tavern style is really where its at. Also hearing that some people do not consider Deep Dish a Pizza?! What is it then people! I will follow up on the CSP if we end up at the famed Pequods or somewhere off the radar.
Our next stop on our food tour of the Midwest was Minnesota. Land of many lakes, even more fish, and Minneapolis’ gift to human kind-Juicy Lucys! What a saucy stop we did indeed have over at the 5-8 Club just outside of Minneapolis. After a long day of replacing a stuck truck tire, changing out a rental car at the airport and 8 hours of interstate travel, we were quite content at the wonderfully delicious nature of the delightfully cheese filled Juicy Lucys and Saucy Sallys. Sometimes field meals hit harder than others, and this was definitely was one of those occasions. Another meal that swam above the rest was Deep Fried Walleye. There is nothing like some fresh fish out of the lake, and the Cormorant Pub in Pelican Rapids knows how to serve it up, no sauce needed! Minnesota was also gracious in providing us with the opportunity to witness the Showy Ladies Slipper (Cypripedium reginae), Greater Yellow Lady Slipper (Cypripedium parviflorum var. pubescens) and White Lady Slipper (Cypripedium candidum).
This past week we ended up visiting Wisconsin- the true land of American Style Cheese. While we opted for lighter faire during the first half of the trip (Chipotle), we indulged in true Wisconsinite fashion for the second, enjoying Curds that could stretch around your head three times, Mac and Cheese so rich it could pay back your student loans, and Potatoes au Gratin that made me question my allegiance to France.
Over the next few weeks we are slotted for trips to Northern Michigan and Southern Illinois. While there are plenty of new plants to survey, miles to drive, and tenderloins to taste, as a born and raised Michigander, I look forward to sampling the Pasties of the UP, debatably the original field food. Until next time, a l’aise Breizh!
Apparently it’s berga-MOT, not berga-MONT as I always have thought, and it’s not the source of the well-known essential oil of bergamot, which comes from the fruit native to Italy. However, this aromatic, herbaceous perennial of the mint family (Lamiaceae), has a scent similar to that of Citrus bergamia, and has many edible and medicinal properties.
I first saw M. fistulosa in the prairies of Wisconsin, Iowa, and Minnesota. I love the pale magenta tubular flowers, sticking up like a tuft of troll hair, and the buds that look like little presents, all folded up. White flowers were also found among the magenta, which in some cases may actually be M. clinopodia, but I’m not sure.
There are about 18 Monarda species in the world (Elpel), and about 7 native to Illinois including M. bradburiana; M. clinopodia or white bergamont; M. didyma or scarlet beebalm; M. fistulosa of which 3 varieties have been found in IL, including M. fistulosa var. rubra which is deep purple to crimson; 2 varieties of M. punctata, spotted beebalm; and M. media, a rare reputed hybrid between M. fistulosa and M. clinopodia (Mohlenbrock). The differences are minute, and I will have to practice my keying skills!
Monarda is one of the few native herbaceous plants I’ve seen in the urban neighborhoods of Chicago where I live. The other week I spotted a somewhat rare strip of prairie plants in a park strip in Wicker Park neighborhood (Hoyne Ave and North Ave).
At Chicago Botanic Garden, you can find a cultivated hybrid varieties developed by Proven Winners named Upscale TM in the Lavin Evaluation Garden. Pictured below are the ‘Red Velvet’ variety. They are much taller than the ones I’ve seen in the wild thus far.
Suggested Reading:
https://www.fs.usda.gov/wildflowers/plant-of-the-week/monarda_didyma.shtml
https://plants.usda.gov/DocumentLibrary/plantguide/pdf/pg_mofi.pdf
Elpel, Thomas J. (2021). Botany in a Day: The Patterns Method of Plant Identification, An Herbal Field Guide to Plant Families of North America (6th ed.). Hops Press.
Mohlenbrock, Robert H. (2002). Vascular Flora of Illinois. Southern Illinois University Press.
What’s my favorite part of seed collecting and weed treating?
The berry picking.
During my time here in the Umpqua, I have successfully established myself as “the berry girl” to those that I work with most frequently.
Wild strawberries, thimbleberries, and blackberries have become a part of my daily diet. Not intentionally or by planning. They just so happen to be growing wherever we are in the Forest – like little presents presented to me throughout the workday.
Collect a seed, eat a berry. Pull a weed, eat a berry.
Whenever I first arrived in Oregon in late May, the berries were not ripe enough to eat, perhaps just barely formed or not at all. To my delight, however, June brought growth and development – for the plants and myself.
Like the briars of the wild, native blackberry, moving away from home can sting – bringing about uncomfortable, newfound independence and solitude. The only way to avoid getting scratched is by not picking the berries.
But also like the berry, moving has been and can be incredibly sweet and satisfying. So I say, pick the berries! experience life. move to a new place. start a new job. meet new people.
Berry picking is a toss-up. Regardless of how well you think you’ve selected your seemingly ripe fruit, sometimes you still end up with a rather tart or bland taste or even a few bugs … Thankfully, I can say that the Umpqua has been exactly what I wanted and so far, the sweetest of picks.
I do think that I will be quite sad when berry season is over. Maybe that is why I have an ode to blueberries on my arm – a tattoo to commiserate my time in Maine last summer where wild blueberries grew like grass in fields around Acadia National Park.
Thinking back, I do suppose that I find berries wherever I go, like hallmarks of my summers and travels.
So I make the time to find the best berry patches after work and on the weekends. I enjoy their existence while there is still time because seasons don’t wait for us. We live according to the seasons and whether or not we experience them to the fullest is on us.
So I pick while I can and I live while I can – enjoying the briars and the berries that I find along the way.
-CM
My first month working at the San Bernardino National Forest has been so much fun! After participating in a lot of amazing projects, we were finally able to start making some seed collections at the end of the month.
Interior goldenbush (Ericameria linearfolia) was one of our first contenders for seed collection. Big Bear has had an especially wet year, so even though these guys were among the first on our list for collection, they actually went to seed a bit later in the season than usual.
On the day we showed up for collection, there were seeding Ericameria linearifolia as far as the eye could see. It was any new seed collector’s dream! I set out with my labeled bag and started collecting. After about half an hour of collecting from various smaller plants, I saw the perfect goldenbush. It was huge and every flower was seeding with very little seed dispersed! I knew I was going to be at this one for a while, so I crouched down beside it and then…
I literally sat on a yucca! It hurt so bad and started bleeding a bit immediately, but luckily the pain went away pretty quickly and I continued seed collecting. Regardless, contrary to what the sticker at our Regional Botanist’s desk might say, fellow seed collectors, don’t “Hug a Yucca”!
At the same site, I helped Koby, a Biological Restoration Technician, with the collection of some native cobweb thistle (Cirsium occidentale). This plant species isn’t on our CLM seed collection list, but it’s on the general SBNF seed collection list and its elusive nature intrigued me.
See this thistle has what I’d refer to as a close evil invasive twin… Cirsium vulgare. Even the name sounds like bad news! Seeing them side by side in the pictures above, the differences are pretty clear. But in the field, when you’re worried about accidentally collecting from an invasive and looking at just one of the species on their own, the differences seem less apparent. During my first week on the job, I learned that several forestry techs at our office were wary of collecting from our native cobweb thistle and reluctant to pull bull thistle for fear of choosing the wrong Cirsium.
Since then, I took a special interest in telling these twins apart. I learned that bull thistle tends to look meaner, greener, and the leaf tips extend in a way that looks like it’s giving you the finger for just looking at it. Vulgare indeed… I also learned that bull thistle tends to like moister soils near water while cobweb thistle prefers well drained soils. Our native cobweb thistle also has dark seeds and the leaves are generally more narrow, sage green, and overall just look like they’re adapted to a drier climate. Having conversations about the differences between these two thistle has given a lot of us at the office more confidence around telling these two apart. I was so pleased to hear one of my coworkers come up to me the other day with a HUGE bag of thistle seed and proudly say “I’m not afraid of thistle anymore!”. Ana Karina and I are hoping to collect vouchers of these two thistles so they can be displayed side by side and help future SBNF employees and interns!
Finally, we also collected Stipa speciosa (Desert needle grass). We learned that the tail on Stipa seeds bend to a right angle when the seeds are fully matured. What I was truly fascinated by, though, was finding this grass bunch where ants were harvesting seed! They were slowly pulling the seeds out and we saw a trail of ants hauling seeds back to the ant hill. I recently learned that some plants have a special relationship with ants in which ants will take the seeds with them underground effectively planting the seeds and allowing the plants to grow. Who knew ants were seed collectors and gardeners too!
I’m so excited to continue learning about our California natives and being a part of some great projects in the month of July. Also, we will finally be getting our own tablets!! I hope everyone is having as much fun as I’ve been having and I’m so glad to be a part of such a great program!
The first month of this internship has been adventure at every turn. We started with helping the forest service technicians with common garden experiments. We have been studying how certain plants are growing, and the amount of herbivory that is present on them. We have taken breaks to look for Lomatium dissectum and Eriogonum umbellatum.
LODI
ERUM
It has been fun hunting for our target species, and we were able to find some LODI and ERUM up at Bogus Basin, but there were not enough seeds to harvest. All life was going well until things got a bit crazy. We went to Modoc Plateau to get tissue samples of various target species from a range of different wetland sites. We were cruising along, making good progress and driving through some pretty intense backcountry roads. It was day 3 of our trip, when we were not careful enough and ended up getting stuck in a huge mud bog! It took us a day to be rescued, and even then we had to work together to pull the truck out of the mud. It took a ford F-250 to help pull a ford F-150 (Mountain goat).
All in all it was a great bonding experience, and a memory I will never forget. You live and you learn!