I am currently 1400 miles away from the place I spent roughly 80% of my life. From northern Minnesota where I was a 3 hour drive to the Canada border to Ruidoso New Mexico, where I’m the same distance to the border of Mexico. It’s been a life changing voyage all packed into such a short time, and one that doesn’t seem to have a specific destination in mind. I’ve stopped for periods of time to work, mostly to gain some skills and knowledge, some to survive, and best of all, for fun. Ultimately I’ve landed on a profession in the great outdoors where the only thing that beats the amazing individuals you’ll meet are the lunch break views.
Sitting Bull Falls, Queen NM
In my mind, I got lucky. I was just following seasonal jobs that seemed like a fun way to be outdoors and learn a few skills. Up till now I’ve spent the last 2 seasons removing invasive plant species with herbicide and chainsaws. It’s been good hard work but I’ve always thought about what happens after? Are the organizations I’m working for come back and do anything with these areas we’ve impacted? Or are they just left for the next crew the next season to come back and repeat the process. That curiosity lead me to apply for a job as a native seed collector, and I could not be more excited to learn everything related to botany and this new landscape I’m in the middle of. With hundreds of random pictures of unidentified plants, insects and birds maybe I can finally start making a dent on figuring out what’s behind the mysteries in my camera roll. It has already been a very unique experience for me! With flying to Chicago to meet all my fellow interns and see the amazing botanic garden and returning home just to immediately retreat due to wildfire, I think this season will be quite exciting. Although, I think I might have had enough excitement for the season and am very much looking forward to being able to return and keep my head down looking for plant species to collect from.
Evacuation due to a wildfire reaching Ruidoso NM city limits.
A ring of mushrooms found in the Karta Wilderness Area.
There’s little in Alaska that feels familiar to a city girl.
Sometime within the whirlwind of this past month, I found myself at the edge of a community bonfire in one of Prince of Wales’ numerous coastal towns, striking up conversation with a local resident, Frank. As we exchanged pleasantries, I disclosed to him that I was from New York, to which a most startled Frank asked frankly:
“—are you lost?”
I can see how that might be the case. The Tongass National Forest, I’m finding, is a place of extremes. In this temperate rainforest, there are trees that tower over you with an ease that demands respect, bracken ferns (Pteridium aquilinum) alongside skunk cabbage (Lysichiton americanum) that inch past your eye-level everywhere you turn, and devil’s club (Oplopanax horridus) with leaves the size of your face—alongside thorns in charitable quantities—undoubtedly ready to catch the next unlucky hiker who uses their sturdy branches to cushion a fall.
For the plants with limited access to resources, they tend to lead smaller lives. Not in the sense that their existence is less rich or impressive, but because typically, they are best appreciated from on your knees, and sometimes with a hand lens. Beds of moss define the spongey floors of muskegs, and are often found side-by-side with lingonberry (Vaccinium vitis-idea), bog cranberry (Vaccinium oxycoccos) and the inconspicuous—yet carnivorous—round-leaved sundew (Drosera rotundifolia).
Bog cranberry (Vaccinium oxycoccos), now in bloom.
All of this to say that the Tongass is nothing like the skyscrapers and subway rats of home, even if both of those things are undeniably extreme in their own respects.
In Alaska, I am constantly asking questions. Simple ones, theoretical ones, stupid ones, and many, many icebreakers. There is no benefit to faking what you don’t know (it really could just kill you out here), especially when you have everything to gain by accepting that you might know nothing at all.
Without a doubt, I am grateful that college academia introduced conservation to me through a variety of principles, models, and research. I used those teachings to build myself a foundation. But now I get to revise it, and that’s worth appreciating as well. Because as a favorite professor of mine would often remind me: things will always be different in the field.
A meadowy stream. The rusty color is characteristic of water filled with tannins.
As efforts into scouting and collecting native seed begin, I have no doubt that my professor will prove right and that I will be challenged by all that I don’t know. I may find myself lost in the most literal sense…once or twice or three times. Ultimately though, what matters is that I focus on emulating the very same qualities pursued after in all conservation and restoration work—adaptability and resilience. I want to grow. So it’s hard to feel lost, because I believe Alaska is exactly the place I need to be to do that.
Yellow pond lily (Nuphar polysepala), creeping out of the moss. An assortment of memories, from left to right: the night sky over a muskeg, a shot of the canopy vaguely in the shape of a bear, and of course, the aforementioned bonfire.
Travelling and moving to a new place can always be daunting, but Pollock Pines has quickly become home. June started off with the CLM training in Chicago, where I got to meet Dean (co-intern) for the first time! We were able to explore the campus of the Chicago Botanic Garden, learn more about the Garden’s goals and how to be a botanist, and meet other interns from across the country! We explored while listening to the cicada’s roar in the forests, during an amazing hatch of the 17-year, 13-year, and brood XIX and XIII co-emerged. It was absolutely fantastic seeing the so many cicadas! Then, some of the interns went to Chicago for our celebratory night after the training! Great food, exploring a new city and amazing new friends made along the way!
Frog that Dean found!CBG Cicada Corpse Flower
Then I had a quick turnaround to move to Pollock Pines for the season! I packed up from Boise, Idaho and drove the quick 9 hours to Pollock Pines! I got to see Lake Tahoe for the first time in the daylight, and I was greeted at home with a gorgeous sunset. Now comes the challenging part, learning a completely new flora! Dean is from the area and is very knowledgeable, which is much appreciated! The Sierras are absolutely breathtaking, the exposed granite and some serious topography. Dean and I did a lot of onboarding while also trying to get into the field when we could!
Then, my friend Iris invited me on a camping trip to Loon Lake! She’s the crew lead for the North Zone botany team of the El Dorado. It was such a fun weekend meeting her crew as well as the wildlife crew! We went on a beautiful hike to Bassi Falls and spend a lot of time swimming. Such a great weekend!
Bassi Falls hikeLoon LakeCapri suns at Bassi FallsBassi Falls
Dean and I got to assist the pollinator team with rare plant pollinator networks. We went out with the Cal State East Bay pollinator team and learned how to do pollinator networks for Lewisia kellogii. I really enjoyed learning about pollinator networks and how plant conservation benefits by supporting pollinator communities.
L to R- Stephanie, Beth, Dean, Diana, PaulinaDean looking for plantsLewisia kellogii hutchersoniiPollinator networksPollinator networksSilver LakeGorgeous view of Silver Lake
Dean and I went out the next day and assisted the California Native Plant Society on mapping Lewisia kellogii hutchisonii (one of the rare plants on the El Dorado). We looked for flowering Lewisia, and then marked them. The Lewisia retracts back into the ground once pollinated to develop the seeds, which is why we needed to mark them for some seed collection! Working with the CNPS team was wonderful to see how professional careers develop in botanical sciences.
Cool FlyGorgeous field filled with swallowtails and monarchsIchneumonid with a giant ovipositorLewisia kellogii hutchersoniiWashington LilySierra Tiger LilyMonarch caterpillar!Swallowtail caterpillar!
I’m looking forward to what comes next! The El Dorado is absolutely amazing!
My name is Kaitlyn Skelton, a recent graduate from Stephen F. Austin State University in Texas, where I earned my degree in Agriculture with a concentration in Horticulture.
Recent Agriculture graduate Kaitlyn Skelton from Stephen F. Austin State University’s Arthur Temple College of Forestry & Agriculture, with experience in gardening and small-scale farming and a focus on regenerative practices.
This summer, I am working as a seasonal botany intern here in the beautiful and resilient landscapes of Oregon. Moving from the warm plains and rolling hills of Texas to the lush, albeit fire-scarred, expanses of the Willamette National Forest has been eye-opening. With a background in agriculture rather than forestry or environmental sciences, there is a definite learning curve. However, I believe that this background allows me to bring a fresh perspective to the field.
The cross-country drive to Oregon was spectacular, showcasing the incredible variety of the American landscape. However, the specific climate of the Pacific Northwest is distinct and strikingly different from any other region I have visited. The shift while driving into this area is burned into my memory. Towering trees envelop the highways and Detroit Lake, with its stunning vistas, is a sight to behold.
Mount Jefferson, the second highest peak in Oregon, standing at 10,495 feet
My new home is on a compound, allowing me to fulfill a long-held dream of walking to work. The view outside my apartment is stunning, making it hard to stay indoors for long. With no air conditioning, lounging outside in a hammock or lawn chair becomes not just a preference but an occasional necessity, anyway. The Detroit Ranger Station, where my office is, is only a short walk from Detroit Lake, and offers impressive views of the forest. From the lake, the impact of the 2020 wildfires is obvious, reminding us of the forest’s vulnerability and the importance of conservation efforts.
Double-decker hammocks that my co-intern and I set up behind our apartment
That’s great, but what are you actually working on out there?
As an intern with the Chicago Botanic Garden’s Conservation and Land Management (CLM) Program and the Seeds of Success program, I am focused on native seed collection. Collecting native seeds supports biodiversity and habitat restoration, crucial in combating climate change. By gathering wildland native seeds for research, driving developmental projects, conserving genetic germplasm, and supporting restoration initiatives, we preserve diverse plant communities. This enhances the resilience of ecosystems to environmental stresses, contributing to a healthier and more sustainable future. The hands-on experience and mentorship I receive make this work deeply rewarding and impactful.
Aquilegia formosa seeds, collected for restoration efforts, are essential for revitalizing native plant communities in the Willamette National Forest
The other half of my work involves collaborating with the US Forest Service to maintain and restore the Willamette National Forest. Spanning over a million acres, this forest is a treasure trove of old-growth trees, pristine lakes, and rugged mountains. However, the wildfires of 2020, including the devastating Lionshead and Beachie Creek Fires, scorched over 400,000 acres, leaving behind charred landscapes and disrupted ecosystems. Many days are spent clearing invasive species that threaten the delicate balance of the ecosystem and scouting native plant populations to ensure their survival and regrowth. With the seeds we are collecting, we can even reseed damaged areas, helping restore these vital habitats.
View of fire damage in the Willamette National Forest from Whitewater Trailhead, which is closed to the public due to unsafe conditions from the Lionshead Fire
Ongoing recovery efforts focus on restoration, habitat rebuilding, and fire prevention. While the scars of the wildfires are still visible, the forest’s resilience is evident as new growth emerges from the ashes.
Although I am only beginning this journey, I find it incredibly rewarding. The opportunity to work with a dedicated team and contribute to the restoration of Willamette National Forest fills me with gratitude and excitement. I look forward to deepening my connection with this remarkable ecosystem and community and playing a part in its recovery and preservation.
I grew up in the Phoenix valley, west side, and never really knew much else until after high school. It was almost overwhelming walking through the Tonto National Forest. I had never seen so much of an area so free of concrete. Not completely, there were still power lines and fencing, but it was there to keep the wildlife wild and away from the tame world of society. Still, is in an incredible experience to be able to walk through the Tonto and its abundant resources. Seeing the parts of a system work together as insects pollinate the plants that feed the larger animals. When nothing happens in the forest, the most magical song plays by an orchestra of songbirds accompanied by the breeze playing through the trees. As a child, playing outside was riding my bike through the cul-de-sac until the asphalt was too hot to ride over. To be able to just walk through tree-shaded trails is such an indescribable feeling. To think the wilderness has always been just out there. To think there used to be so much more. I cannot understand why humans replaced the forest with concrete jungles. I have only grown more passionate about environmental protection, conservation, and education. Being out with nature makes one connect with their environment and understand themselves. It is so fun to think this as I scout for plants.
The image above is of my first time in a meadow. There was so much tall grass to wade through and stomp over, even though this image may not show it. Yes it was incredibly hot and humid and filled with so many fascinating insects, but it was all so new to me and just wonderful. This blog post was more about how this opportunity has strengthened my decision in continuing field biology. Less about the work itself but the environment it brought me to. Outside work is not for everyone. Honestly, my first field assignment was to pull out weeds, and I had so much fun digging into soft dirt. Anytime my family had to do yardwork we needed pickaxes. These were available at that first assignment but were not necessary with how soft the soil was. Working outside in the Arizona Summer is definitely scary and not for everyone. It is intense and the heat risks are very high. Luckily growing up here I am confident in my capabilities to handle it and take action as I recognize signs of heat stress. The summer has started off strong this season and I look forward to continuing exploring the Tonto National Forest.
A thick, heavy layer of clouds hugs the rocky shores and shoals of southeast Alaska, fluttering its thousand whispering notes through the Sitka spruces, soon to be carved into guitar necks and drum frames. Its mistral arms wrap round the eaglets in their nests and embrace the porcupines; it swaddles fjords in fog, entombs ships’ lights in a steely gray and swirls over the icy spires of the Klawock Range. Funneled into the steep sides of the Inside Passage, ocean winds mix and churn into a roiling silver wind of salt spray.
Many days, after gorging itself on the warm Pacific current, this layer of clouds droops with a leaden cargo of water until coalescing into the famous Alaska rain. This rain (of which southeast Alaska receives more than any other place in the country) is the chilling, soaking variety that drives bees to cower under flowers and grizzled old fishermen to sing sea shanties on the docks. It percolates through the sparse, rocky soil to bind together some particles and wedge apart others that finally collapse into enormous landslides. One curious thing I have noticed is that rain here seldom is packaged into hammering thunderstorms – the cumulonimbus clouds that electrify the Midwest require hotter summer air than Alaska receives. It arrives as a lighter, more persistent tap-tap-tap that seems always ready to drop out of the precariously perched clouds at the slightest disturbance. It is a rain that makes excellent weather for sitting on the Thorne Bay Library porch, writing blog posts like this one and drinking convenience store coffee (brewed for sailors, so strong that it has to be beaten back into the cup with a spoon).
Setting sail from Ketchikan Harbor to Prince of Wales Island
On other, less frequent days, the dome of clouds is whisked away to reveal the warm sun that encourages the treetops and teases the mosses and ferns below – even on the brightest days, the dense tangle of conifer needles that roofs the Tongass keep the forest floor cool and shaded. We spent five days in the Karta River Wilderness with this rare Alaska sunshine, where it shimmers off mirror-still lakes and the bald heads of seals in the bay. After long days of backpacking, pulling foxgloves and hacking through heavy brush, returning to our camp in the ever-shady understory felt a sweet relief. There the sun hovers long over the horizon, scattering its fiery rays over the rippling trout streams until ten at night and returning by four o’clock the next morning.
The Klawock Range that spans the middle of our island
I am always fascinated by the sublime beauty that weather can display. Alaska is a land of extremes – to borrow from folk singer Hobo Jim, “this is the country where legends are born.” The Pacific Northwest Coast is the largest temperate rainforest in the world, and I can think of no better place to see weather’s creative forces at work than a land where it raises up colossal trees like mossy pillars from six-inch-deep soil. Where fourteen-foot tides are normal and krummholz pines cling tenuously to life on the windswept mountains. And where cloudberries – of which I am trying my best to find just one good patch – really do grow within clouds in the cold, foggy muskegs. I am greatly looking forward to the rest of our season here in the Great Land – whatever way the wind blows.
The past few weeks have flown by! Since training, Iran and I have been to the Leo Grove, and the Little Green Meadow sites on the Tonto Forest. Both were very different sites- Leo Grove is a covered pine-forest dry woodlands area, whereas the Little Green Meadow was pretty self-explanatory, a wetland full of rushes with winding small streams through the center. My favorite plant right now is the plant Phleum pretense, mostly because I think it’s a dumb name for a plant, it reminded me of the nonsense words in the Rick and Morty Plumbus commercial and the florets look like little Batman helmets. (See the image below for my super detailed and informative drawing of a Phleum floret.) Also at the Little Green Meadow site, we saw little ant mounds everywhere, and I thought wow! Ants! I hope they won’t bite me. I was more worried about stepping on a hornet nest, but after seeing several large cow bones, a coyote skeleton, and bear droppings, I was more concerned about the larger things. There is a point to this I swear! The moral of the story is that no matter where we are, whether it’s in a pine forest or a meadow by a cow pasture or even in an apartment binge-watching Bridgerton season 3 until 2 am, (I highly recommend by the way) you can’t really worry about the large stuff sometimes, and I think that coming to peace with that is a good way to live in the moment and get more out of your present experience. In the wise words of Grand Master Oogway, “Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift- that is why it is called the present.” In other words, I’m looking forward to future adventures on the Tonto and seeing many a green meadow later on, and maybe an eldritch terror or two that reside within them. But today, I’m happy about learning the little things and looking at plants, while enjoying a coffee and working in a city I love. Happy trails!
This first month in Montana has been eventful since the moment I arrived. On my way into the ranger station I ran into a dog that was walking around in the middle of the highway near Monarch and my co-worker Ana and I brought it back so we could call the number on his collar and get him out of harms way. His name was Homie and he was such a lovely dog! He was nothing but sweet the entire time, and even hopped into the truck without any problems! Some other people at the ranger station were heading towards the address on Homie’s collar, so they took him back to his owners.
My first few weeks here was spent doing restoration work in several different locations. It was my first time in Montana so I wasn’t fully prepared for how beautiful the landscape was! Every site had a great view of the mountains, which just seemed to go on and on and it was nice to be able to relax during our lunch breaks and enjoy the view.
Morning in the Castle Mountains
On the third week Sky and I spent a lot of time going over the plant list that we were given and finding the flowering times so we could build a rough plan for how we will be collecting the seeds. We also spent a lot of time going through training, which was a bit of a drag, but meant that we were able to go out on or own and practice our keying to see if there were any target species some areas suggested by our boss Victor.
Penstemon albertinus
Finally, we were able to meet with the Forest Botanist Nate and he helped us with keying out grasses and learning all of the specific terminology that comes with it. We made sure to go out to different sites to gain more experience and I feel much more confident now in my plant id skills than I did before. We were also able to join him and another botany tech searching for some rare orchids in the Rocky Mountain Front!
Amerorchis rotundifolia
So far this season has been filled with many different experiences that I didn’t expect going into it, and I only hope that this season continues to surpass my expectations.
The month of June kicked off our adventures on the prairie! Initially, we began our field season at Midewin doing meander surveys. A lot of the plants were familiar to me, however, I struggled with a few that I would normally brush off mainly due to them not being very showy (looking at you Carex!). During the meandering, we also had an active competition amongst the volunteers and CLM interns who could ID the last plant in the allotted time. Vlad and I were actively competing to find the coolest plant last, which he found a cool native and I found an Ox-Eye Daisy (Chrysanthemum leucanthemum) an invasive species last. So, for the most part, we tied!
The beautifully invasive Ox-Eye Daisy that can be seen at Midewin and practically any disturbed roadside
Regarding seed collection, June was spent collecting Atlantic Camas (Camassia scilloides) and multiple Carex species. I feel more confident in my Carex ID and this group no longer frightens me with its extensive amount of terminology! Of all the sedges we observed, I liked Davis’ Sedge (Carex davisii) the most as the perigynia look similar to popcorn kernels.
Troublesome Sedge (Carex molesta)Eastern Woodland Sedge (Carex blanda)Davis’ Sedge (Carex davisii)Seeds of Wild Hyacinth (Camassia scilloides)Carex sp. and Camassiascilloides
With seed collection, we were also in a wide variety of habitats like tallgrass prairie and sedge meadows. The sedge meadows were one of my favorites as they had unique tussock sedges that looked like waves of green as the wind blew through them.
The winds of the prairie blowing through the tussock sedges at Grant Creek North
Other than camassia and sedges, we also saw other cool critters like insects and many different milkweed species. When I would have down time before work or during lunch, I would take as many photos with my camera as possible. I was definitely more biased to taking pictures of bees and milkweed!
Speaking of the bees, they were in a rush when it came to foraging on the Leadplant (Amorpha canescens). The species of bees ranged from the small Sweat Bees (Augochlora/Augochloropsis sp.) to many Brown-Belted Bumble Bees (Bombus griseocollis). The flowers of the Leadplant were very fragrant, so I do not blame the bees for being in a hurry to get this limited supply of nectar!
The Brown-Belted Bumblebee (Bombus griseocollis)Leadplant (Amorpha canescens)The Brown-belted Bumblebee and Leadplant
As for the Milkweeds, they were also fragrant and of course had many different insect species on them. Common Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca), for example, smelled strongly of perfume and gained a lot of attraction from the red milkweed beetles (Tetraopes tetrophthalmus). As for the pollinators of common milkweed, flies and bees were a common site as were the milkweed’s pollinia attached to their legs! I also managed to see my first monarch caterpillar (Danaus pleixpplus) of the season hopefully there will be more to come!
A fly with a pollinia attached to its leg! The many pollinators of Common MilkweedRed Milkweed Beetle (Tetraopes tetrophthalmus)A Monarch Caterpillar (Danaus plexippus) on Common Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca)Milkweed and its many insect visitors
Overall, June brought great experiences from meandering in the prairie to learning many of the sedges that occur in Illinois. I can’t wait to get lost in the Silphium forests once they bloom in July, so expect a LOT of Silphium and subsequentially their pollinators in next month’s blog!
Moving from Oklahoma to South Dakota, it’s funny how similar yet completely different the two are. Up here it feels like there’s a lot more moisture in the soil (however I’ve been told its been a big year for rain… so that might explain why) and the hills seem steeper and more abundant compared to the southern Great Plains. Most of the plant species are the same thought, however all the grasses/ anything that’s not an aster? Not very familiar with those.
Page from my field notebook. So far have been focusing on ID-ing grasses and other common plants, seen a lot of crested wheatgrass (Agropyron cristatum) and smooth brome (Bromus inermis) that’s for sure, very familiar with those nowGrand River National Grassland + the Grand river
The Dakota Prairie Grassland (DPG) is a national grassland spread through North Dakota and South Dakota divided into three districts- Little Missouri, Grand River/ Cedar River (where I’m at!), and Sheyenne. This is also the first year the DPG is having CLM interns (woot woot!). So far my co-intern Claire and I have spent our first 3 weeks on the job exploring the Grand River district, where we’ve practiced plant ID and done some bumble bee surveying, along with on-boarding protocols and trainings. July 1st was our first day going out and collecting seed up on the southern edge of the Little Missouri district in the Badlands, was super pretty and the weather was great up until we got rained out. So far we have collected seed from needleandthread grass (Hesperostipa comata) and green needlegrass (Stipa viridula); H. comata seeds are very pointy at the base, so collecting them can be quite painful in you aren’t careful.
Morning in the North Dakota Badlands, from one of our seed collection sites where our target species was needleandthread grass (Hesperostipa comata)
The grassland has been absolutely stunning, I feel like whatever pictures I post here won’t do it justice. The sky is huge, there being very few trees means you can see so far ahead of yourself, the dashes of little badland hills, plus the variety in plant species makes the land kinda look like a watercolor painting with all its different shades of green, yellow, and blue (and also brown thanks to kentucky bluegrass going to seed), and don’t get me started on how good the sage smells.
Little Missouri National Grassland near Medora, ND. Took a tour and learned about creeping juniper (Juniperus horizontalis) encroachment in the BadlandsParticipating in the Great Plains Bumble bee Atlas on the grassland, the bumble bees really like yellow sweetclover (Melilotus officinalis)
Working with plants has been really great, because not only do I get to geek out about plants, but also about insects! As I’m learning my plants better, I hope to also grow accustomed to all the insects affiliated with them. Listening and being able to recognize most of the bird calls I heard while out in the field is another exciting perk, it makes for some good background music.
Couple of beetles hanging out in this plains pricklypear (Opuntia polyacantha) flowerWeevil!!!Red cross-bills!!! (Loxia curvirostra) Haven’t had much of an opportunity to do bird watching yet, but hopefully by my next post I’ll have more pictures to show
By the end of this internship, I’m hoping I can accomplish these goals/ have these experiences:
See sharp-tailed grouse and greater prairie chickens
Learn the scientific names for all our target species (we have 16, that’s probably doable in 22 weeks)
Learn some stuff about range land management
Visit all the national parks/monuments/forest within at least 5 hours of me
Explore every inch of this grassland I’m allowed access to!
