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).
The Salix interior ”swamp” at Midewin
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 Jonahafter brush cutting!A very happy Orange-legged Furrow Bee (Halictus rubicundus)!The adventure during the Autumn Olive 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!
Prairie Rosinweed (S.integrifolium)Cup Plant (S. perfoliatum)Compass Plant (S. laciniatum)Prairie Dock (S. terebinthinaceum)The Silphium of Illinois
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!
A “forest” of Compass plantA Gray Treefrog (Hyla versicolor) on the leaf of Prairie Dock The Silphium “forest” and one of its many residents
Hopefully August will bring more fun on the prairie when the season changes and more plants bloom! See y’all soon!
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).
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!
Mountain Pride (Penstemon newberryi)Yellow pond lilyYellow pond lilyWater Lily Pond
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!
Lover”s LeapPenstemon newberryiFireweedPyramid CreekPyramid Creek
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!
My familyMom and Dad!Rubicon Jeep TrailI love you both so much!
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!
Calochortus clavatus var. aviusMajestic DeanPollinator surveying! (no bumble bees harmed)Dean with a rare bumblebee he found!
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!
Matt, Iris and I in yosemite!Matt and Iris botanizingTuolumne MeadowsTuolumne MeadowsTuolumne MeadowsIris and I in Yosemite ValleyHalf Dome at sunset
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!
Newt swimmingNEWTNewt
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.
Botrychium!!!!!Botrychium!!!!!Botrychium!!!!!Botrychium!!!!!Baby Saw Whet OwlDaddy long legCaterpillarDean kissing a mushroom
And a little bug appreciation section!
Really cool and large spiderMonarch in YosemiteCool crab spiderMilkweed beetle in YosemiteCaterpillarPainted Lady ButterflyMillipedeNeat beetleNeat beetleCicadaRare bumble! Bombus morrisoniNeat bee
July was amazing, I’m looking forward to what comes next!
One of the most enjoyable activities so far at Midewin has been vegetation monitoring. We are collecting data to be used for floristic quality assessment, to monitor the quality and progress of our restorations. Each site that we monitor has several (4-5) 100 meter transects running north-south, each containing 25 points (spaced 4m apart). 1m*1m quadrats are placed at each point a random distance away from the transect (0-10m). At the start, a coin is flipped to determine whether the even random numbers will be east or west. Within the quadrat, every plant species is recorded, beginning with a .25m*.25m corner. After all species in the corner are recorded, all species present in the rest of the quadrat outside of the corner are recorded. Dead biomass (fuel) thickness is recorded at three points along the edge of the quadrat. Also, the species comprising 70%, 20%, and 10% of the dry weight in each quadrat are recorded.
Left: bluish stems and short, hairy ligule of Andropogon gerardii (big bluestem). Right: “bunny ear” ligule of Sorgastrum nutans (indiangrass).
Conducting vegetation monitoring requires plant identification knowledge beyond what I’d ever employed before in everyday botany. You must not only be able to identify mature plants in flower or in seed (which can be keyed out even if you have never seen the species before), but you must be able to identify every seedling in the understory, which is a daunting task. They will lack the floral parts often necessary to be keyable, and are best identified by someone who has grown the plants from seed, seeing them at every stage of their life. Luckily, I have grown many prairie species from seed at my native plant garden at Northwestern, taking special care to document the species in their seedling phase and putting the pictures in a native plant guide for the future generations of my Prairie Cats Ecological Restoration Club.
Dianthus armeria (Deptford pink) basal rosette. This one stumped us for a long time until we saw a fruiting stem coming from such a rosette.
Still, many of the specimens I encountered in the field were completely enigmatic. The wetland plots were difficult, containing many wetland plants I had little to no experience with (all those silly little Lamiaceae). Grasses also presented a challenge — I had only ever paid attention to the floral characteristics of grasses (I have attempted to key numerous grasses from family, but the keys usually rely on floral characters). Foolishly, I had paid essentially no attention grass vegetative characters. However, thanks to Anna, our great botany technician, I was able to quickly learn how to distinguish some of the more common grasses. Also, the previous horticulturist at Midewin, Eric Ulaszek, is somewhat of a graminoid connoisseur and a great field botanist, and he created a vegetative key for the grasses of Midewin.
One of those annoying little opposite wetland plants that feel impossible to identify. Our best guess is Laportea canadensis (wood nettle).
Every time I did quadrats, I derived a great amount of joy from finding the small, unobtrusive little things that you can expect to find in nearly every quadrat. For something like Poa pratensis (Kentucky bluegrass), finding it is almost a formality (it was in almost every single upland plot). However, they are small and often don’t show their inflorescences at the top, so finding them requires digging through all the small grass-like foliage at the bottom of the plot. I’d keep pulling little tufts of grass and looking for the Poas (also Poa compressa). And then all of a sudden… success! Poa on the Prairie! (This message is brought to you by the Don’t Kill Your Lawn Foundation).
Poa compressa tiller. Note how flat the leaves are (Poa compressa is even flatter).
Month two in Plumas! Andrea and I are really starting to get into the swing of things now. We’ve spent the majority of our time this month working on seed collection which has been very satisfying. After learning the ropes for the first couple weeks, we’ve grown more confident and competent out in the field on our own. Scouting is still the bulk of our work but many of our populations are now ready for harvest. This may go without saying, but when monitoring populations for future collection, we want to be 100% sure on our species ID. With some plants like Veratrum californicum or Elymus elymoides, correct identification only requires a quick glance. However, with some other genera and species we really have to get into the weeds – if you will – to lock down that latin binomial. One genus in particular that is a priority for collection and a challenge to ID has been haunting our dreams and sometimes nightmares for all of July.
The Lupinus genus or Lupines are fairly ubiquitous across the Sierras and much of the American West. They come in all shapes and sizes, most often with obvious palmate leaves and whorled, long inflorescences of white, lilac, purple, blue and sometimes yellow flowers. They grow well in open areas and are nitrogen fixers like many other genera in the Fabaceae family, making them a great candidate for restoration projects in burn scars. Their fruit are pea-looking pods that are seemingly easy to collect and they grow in thick patches all across Plumas National Forest. All this makes the perfect recipe for seed collection. However, there are so many different species and identification has proven to be quite tricky. In the Jepson, the list of lupine species in California takes up seven whole pages and in our local flora, the Oswald Guide, they take up four. A search on Calflora yields 39 different species and varieties in Plumas County. All this means that we had a lot of learning to do when it came to differentiating between all these lupines.
Starting with the basics, we learned relevant lupine morphology and the various terms that would be relevant for identification. The aspects of the flower that are typically of note are: how glabrous or ciliate the keel is, whether or not the keel is covered by the wings, the width of the banner petal, how pubescent the banner backing is, the prominence of the calyx spur, the color of the petal, the length of the corolla, and I’m sure several other features. For the rest of the plant, we learned its important to look at, the height, the growth habit, how woody the stem is, the length or presence of stipules, whether or not the leaves are adaxially or abaxially hairy, the pattern and openness of the inflorescence, and the habitat its found in. Even when we figure out all of these features – to the best of our ever improving ability – some species are still unclear. For example, only a couple millimeters of stipule length might separate the decision to call population Lupinus andersonii or Lupinus albicaulis – two species which the Jepson describes as “morphologically indistinct”. The presence of an almost invisible patch of hairs on the inside of the wing petals could be the only signifier between L. argenteus var. heteranthus and L. arbustus. Without a doubt, there was a strong learning curve. Several weeks of non-stop lupine action did wonders for our identification skills. We went from a half an hour of keying only yielding more questions to fairly confident species IDs in a matter of minutes. The trick seemed to be constant exposure to different species and that repetition of the ID process. At this point, it feels like we have many of the Lupine key breaks memorized.
The tiny annual Lupinus bicolorA shriveled Lupinus argenteusvar ???A robust Lupinus andersonii populationLupinus latifolius var columbianus – our first collection!
Unfortunately the satisfaction of gaining a new skill came with other unforeseen complications. Correct ID often meant that we could start collecting as soon as the seeds were ready. Throughout July, we watched as flowers shriveled and green pods emerged. The pods slowly turned brown and were ready for harvest. After putting so much work into these populations, we were very excited to finally do some collections. The first lupine collection for the year was a population of Lupinus latifolius var. columbianus that was growing along a remote mountain road. The pods were hard and brown, ready to pop. I cracked open the first pod looking forward to seeing those little pea-like seeds and was greeted with a large grub. Cracked another one, another squirming grub. The day went on and the pattern stayed pretty consistent – it felt like 80-90% of the pods had some fly larvae inside which had already consumed many of the seeds. Lupine tribulations just seemed endless. Fortunately, after collecting a few more populations of different species in a variety of habitats, we learned that not all lupines are that infected. I’ve come to accept that worms are simply a part of the lupine collection process and so many have popped out of pods into my face that I don’t even mind them anymore, maybe they are kind of cute.
Long story short, lupines are hard and will most likely remain hard but it was a satisfying challenge to throw ourselves at. Check out some other highlights from the month:
California tortoiseshell Nymphalis californicaNorthern Pacific Rattlesnake – Crotalus oreganus oreganusCrazy skies from the Park FireSo very stuck in the mud
This July has been full of bees! In between seed collecting, we’ve been keeping busy doing more bumble bee atlasing. I mentioned it briefly in my last blog post, but to go into a little more detail the Great Plains Bumble bee Atlas is a citizen science project organized by the Xerces society to gather data on the species distribution of bumble bees (genus Bombus) to identify conservation needs. The Xerces society has bumble bee atlases active all across the country (minus the south central and southeastern US (for now!)), however the Great Plains atlas specifically includes North Dakota, South Dakota, and Kansas. To conduct the survey, you catch bees making note of the flower they were on, chill them in a cooler to slow them down, then photograph and re-release them when you found them. It’s pretty fun, sometimes finding bumble bees is the hardest part, especially in areas where they have to compete with honeybees over nectar resources.
Example of a photo taken for the Great Plains Bumble bee Atlas. Pattern and coloration of the thorax and abdomen are very helpful for identifying bees. This bee here is a Yellow bumblebee (Bombus fervidas).Orange-legged furrow bee (Halictus rubicundus) licking sweat off my hand while seed collecting. Got stung by these bees twice in the same day, but good news I’m not allergic!
Mid July we traveled northeast to the Sheyenne district of DPG to get a look at the Western prairie fringed orchid (Platanthera praeclara). These orchids are found in tallgrass prairies in wet, disturbed areas such as ditches, and are pollinated by hawk months. However, this species is threatened mainly due to habitat loss from agriculture or from competition with the noxious weed Leafy spurge (Euphorbia virgata). While spurge is a problem down on the Grand River district, it’s quite abundant in the Sheyenne district and down-right HORRIBLE.
Pictures of Platanthera praeclara found in a ditch; by the time we got out there most of the flowers had stopped blooming, but we managed to find a ditch that had a couple of small clusers.While on the Sheyenne we also conducted more bumble bee atlas surveys, and were even featured in an article on the DPG facebook! You can read it here: https://www.facebook.com/share/p/EJhjV1oTiFpxCDVN/
Plants and bees aren’t the only things we’re working with, we are also getting to help with a swift fox survey. Swift fox (Vulpes velox) are considered threatened in the state of South Dakota, so we are setting up trail cams until deer hunting season starts to see if these fox occur on the grassland. They prefer short grasses i.e. grazed pastures, and while none have shown up yet, we’ve caught photos of raccoons, badgers, and even some songbirds.
Chestnut-collared longspur (Calcarius ornatus) spotted on the trail cams.Weevil!!!
It is HOT, it is SMOKY, it is NOT a delicious barbecue chicken sandwich, but it IS the weather of Montana in July! We are reaching the end of our survey season, because the heat is drying up the plants to the point of being unidentifiable (hence the title – our Castilleja is crunchy now).
Can you find the senesced Allium parvum?
It’s been amazing seeing an almost full life cycle for several of our species already during the season. Plants that weren’t anywhere near bloom when we arrived have now gone to seed. I feel quite lucky to be here long enough to see the forest change over time, and if fall is anything like our bosses/botanists Lea and Laura are hyping it up to be, I haven’t see the half of it yet. But that comes later; right now is fire season! This is important for the vegetation since many plants are pyrophytic (adapted to fire), such as lodgepole pine, whose seeds won’t germinate until the layer of resin coating them has been burned off. People tend to view fire as a destructive force – and it can be – but it often also creates, makes room for new and wonderful things to grow in its wake. In Hamilton, the smoke from the wildfires has caused a fair amount of haze, but has also given way to some pretty spectacular sunrises and sunsets.
View from the bunkhouse
As for the Botshots, we surveyed for pollinators with the Montana Bumble Bee Atlas! I highly suggest clicking the link because they have some neat citizen science opportunities that anybody can participate in. We trudged out into fields of beebalm and fireweed, prepared with bug-catching, bee-snatching goals. Sometimes of these arthropods are escape artists, trying to wriggle out of the bug nets and vials, but with the help of some folks from the Wildlife Department in Stevensville, Hannah and I still managed to catch 12 bees in one survey! There is a lack of data on pollinator populations, especially in the American West, so helping out in areas that had never been officially surveyed before felt really rewarding.
From left to right: Li, me, Laura, Cicely, and Hannah
That’s mostly been July! I’m excited to move into monitoring and seed collection. This month has shown me so clearly how bees depend on plants which depend on seeds which depend on fire and, right now, depend on us for their collection and future propagation. It is a good reminder of the web we live in. And, speaking of the interconnection of all things…
“Bees are crucial for maintaining biodiversity and, by supporting healthy plant communities, a long list of ecosystem functions”
– Of Bees and Blooms, 2023
Queen bee Bombus rufocinctus pollinating Agastache utricifolia, one of our seed collection species in the Swan Valley of the Flathead National Forest
This field season (May through October) I was hired as a Seed Collection Intern by the Chicago Botanical Garden for the U.S Forest Service. I am stationed far North in the Flathead National Forest of Montana, and as late summer approaches for most of the continental United States, the species that we will be collecting seed from have just begun to flower.
Target species (from left to right) Symphyotrichum laeve, Heuchera cylindrica and Monarda fistulosa blooming in late July in Flathead Nation Forest
While waiting for our target species to bloom (and seed) we assisted with many other projects. Mostly, we helped out on Timber Unit Vegetation Surveys. This is where botanists go into a section of the National Forest known as a Timber Unit, a section of the forest that will be logged in the next few years, and conduct a vegetation survey. This vegetation survey involves recording every plant species in the unit and GPS marking areas of water (water=high biodiversity) and flagging rare and endangered species that we come across so that the area around them doesn’t get logged and they don’t get ran over/disturbed.
For us interns (Grace and myself) this mostly served as a way for us to familiarize ourselves with the plant species and habitats of Flathead National Forest so that we could properly identify our target species we are collecting seed from and be able to scout out the habitats they are found in. Two months later we are confident in our plant and habitat identification skills, and are now able to scout of populations of our seed collection species ourselves.
Subalpine Heuchera cylindrica population and wildflower meadow containing a Monardafistulosa
Another project we helped on was the Bumble Bee Atlas project. This research project was started by The Xerces Society with the goal of gathering data needed to track and conserve bumble bees (bumblebeeatlas.org). Many bumble bee species are in decline, the exact causes have yet to be determined but it as been surmised that it is due to a combination of climate change, habitat lost, pesticides and herbicides, and lack of conservation efforts.
Bumble bees are strong, hearty and efficient pollinators that have coevolved with flowering plants. It has been estimated that 60 to 80 percent of all flowering plant species require bees for pollination and that more than a third of the food consumed by humans is pollinated by bees (Glenny, Will Et al., 2022). Due to these factors, the Forest Service and multiple other entities are collaborating to collect data in order to develop a conservation plan so that we don’t continue to loose these valuable pollinators.
The data that needed to be collected was; What species of bumble bees are on the landscape? What plant species are the pollinating? What plant species do they prefer? What disturbances are in the area if any? If we can answer these questions than we can move forward with developing a conservation plan for native bumble be species (bumblebeeatlas.org)!
We assisted with this project by conducting a few bumble bee surveys. We did this by going out to lovely montane meadows full of wildflowers and catching bumble bees! We used big bug catching nets and put them in little tubes so that we could put them on ice in order to put them to sleep and take pictures so that they could be identified to species later. Putting the bees on ice does not hurt the bees! It’s simply puts them to sleep, like the freezing cold air of an early spring night in the mountains.
Within a few minutes of removing them from the cooler, they were waking up, stretching and flying off (often before we could even get all of the photos that we needed!)
Photos of native bee species from conducting Bumble Bee Atlas surveys outside Glacier National Park in the Flathead National Forest
Little did I know that this cute week with bumble bees would go on to play a roll in the rest of my field season.
As it turns out, the plant species that we are collecting seed from this year were chosen because the have a high pollinator friendliness score. What does pollinator-friendliness mean? and how does a plant get a high ranking? Plants with high pollinator friendliness is defined by the paper Assessing Pollinator Friendliness of Plants and Designing Mixes to Restore Habitats for Bees in 2022 as follows: plants with high pollinator friendliness were plants that had the highest bee visitation rates, attracted the most bee species, supported specialist bee species, and bloomed for extended periods of time (Glenny, Will Et al., 2022). In addition, the target species that were chosen to collect seed from also had to a line with the conservation needs of Flathead National Forest specifically.
The seeds the we care collecting will be added to a seed mix that will be used for roadside restoration. The open areas created by road construction and logging are great areas for grass and wildflower filled meadows and, additionally, great habitat for bumble bees.
Bumble bees photographed pollinating native plant species: Chamaenerion angustifolium, Cirsium scariosum and Lupinus argenteus on gravel road sides
Previously, the only plant species used for these road side restoration projects were grasses. Grasses are great at recolonizing gravel areas, but, being that they are mostly wind pollinated, not so great for native pollinator species. By adding native wildflowers to these seed mixes, roadsides, gravel pits and old gated off forest service roads can become great habitats for declining native bumble bee species (Glenny, Will Et al., 2022).
So, with all this in mind, the parameters that a plant species must meet is as follows
– Must be a native species – Must have a high pollinator friendliness score – Must prefer disturbed, gravely habitat
With these parameters in mind, the species that were selected were
Monarda fistulosa (bee balm)
Grindelia howellii (Howell’s gumweed)
Heuchera cylindrica (roundlead alumroot)
Agastache urticifolia (nettle-leaf horsemint)
(1)(2)(3)(4)Target Seed Collection Species in flower
5. Erigeron speciosus (showy aster) (not pictured because it’s not in flower yet) 6. Chamaenerion angustifolium (fireweed) 7. Symphyotrichum laeve (smooth blue aster)
(6)(7)Native Bumble Bee Species on Target Seed Collection Species!
Identifying and collecting seed from native flowering plant species that thrive in disturbed and are preferred by native pollinators is a crucial for restoration project because “bees are crucial for maintaining biodiversity and, by supporting healthy plant communities, a long list of ecosystem functions including but not limited to- food and habitat for animals, soil stability, and water quality” (Of Bees and Blooms, 2023). I feel incredible grateful to be working to restore biodiversity of our native forests and working to build habitat for threated native pollinator species. The seed that we are collecting this summer and fall will be sent to the Forest Service Nursery in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho were it will be grown out, the seed collected from those plant, and then CBG interns next year will spread that seed in restoration areas.
Filled with excitement and nerves, embarking on this journey had me filled with a concoction of feelings. I was to return to my home state and have my first taste of my desired career. Although I had made many amazing new friends during the CLM training at the Chicago Botanic Garden, I quickly realized how much I would be learning this season. I encountered feelings of doubt and imposter syndrome as we attempted to key out dried flowers. With no formal botany experience or education, I began questioning whether I knew enough about botany to be a successful seed collector. In the few weeks between the training in Chicago and my arrival in the Chugach National Forest, I prepared myself to acquire a plethora of new knowledge. Foraging throughout my life had nurtured a connection with many native plant species, but I only knew them by their nicknames (common names). These first two weeks back in Alaska have been a whirlwind of learning and reconnection. After being away from Alaska, returning to the land and the landscape I love has been grounding and exciting. It’s like reuniting with an old friend.
Week One
During my first week, I spent a lot of time completing online training for the Forest Service, much of which was your typical large agency type stuff. A few Alaska-specific pieces of training rang of nostalgia: the bear safety training and boating training. Not a single day was spent exclusively chugging away at required training, though. On day one, my field partner, Maggie, and I visited a potential collection site for scouting. I quickly learned how niche much of my plant knowledge was and how little I knew about the plants that occur on this side of Cook Inlet. I spent several summers studying species that occur in muskeg land as a guide in my little free time, but this was a new ball game. She was kind enough to guide me through the resources she had been using and patiently guided me through much of the jargon.
Aquilegia formosa littered the sides of the Ptarmigan Creek trail on day one.
The next day, we spent a few hours IDing some plants in the field with our Forest Service mentor. On our journey, we stumbled upon an old friend – drosera rotundifolia in a muskeg surrounded by peat moss, a few patches of cotton grass, and a few orchids. Finally- I am home.
Drosera rotundifolia, my favorite plant that is often found in a muskeg.
Wednesday was an inspiring day. I spent half the day shadowing my mentor and learning about the processes the Forest Service goes through to start a new project. So many experts are involved: archeologists, botanists, wildlife ecologists, parks and recreation specialists, engineers, and hydrologists! (I am sure I am missing a few as well.) Witnessing their conversation and collaboration drew me in.
The second half of the day was spent meeting the restoration site, to which much of the seeds we collect this season will contribute. I enjoyed witnessing the conversations between experts and how many people are involved in a project of that magnitude. The Resurrection Creek restoration project is in its second phase, and WOW, is it a big one. Seventy-four acres of riparian habitat are being restored in this project as they return the creek to a meandering, salmon-bearing system. I was privileged to meet and witness the SCA interns watering and maintaining the willows and sedges that have already been planted as part of the restoration project.
Several species waiting for their turn to find their new homes at the Resurrection Creek restoration site. Many of these were grown from seeds collected by last year’s CLM interns.
We dedicated much of Thursday to intimately getting to know the Chugach National Forest Herbarium as Maggie and I filed away vouchers from last year’s interns. Filing the vouchers allowed me to learn more about the taxonomy of many plants that I had previously only known the common names of and an opportunity to practice saying some whacky Latin names.
Herbarium voucher of Lupinus nootkatensis, one of our priority species for seed collection, collected by last year’s CLM interns.
We dove deeply into new references and keys with our mentor on Friday. We had more sources than I could have dreamed of!
Week one was a whirlwind of learning, excitement, and reconnections with my roots. While a significant portion of my time was spent in front of a computer, the other half was a thrilling journey of learning new plants, receiving invaluable advice from my mentor, and establishing a harmonious working relationship with my field partner. The excitement of learning was palpable and inspiring. I savored my free time visiting harbors full of nostalgia and hiking new trails, each step reinforcing my connection to the environment.
Week Two
Week two was full of adventure and connection. The work days were primarily spent in the field, scouting and practicing keying plants (mostly sedges). The evenings were spent connecting with new friends and bonding with my co-intern. We learned about all the exciting gadgets and tools we will use for collection, such as a seed sorting machine, which will help us efficiently clean the seeds we collect, and a funky seed collection tool, essentially a modified weed whacker designed to collect seeds rapidly. I can not wait to dive deeper and play with those later in the season!
So far, my favorite day of the season occurred that Tuesday and was full of spontaneous experiences. We were invited along on a Dall Sheep survey that morning, and again, I experienced nostalgia as we ventured out by boat on Kenai Lake- one of my favorite water systems to go out in. We were greeted by beautiful weather and several sheep on the cliffside. We witnessed the incredible blue glacial waters of Kenai Lake shine in the sunlight from shore while practicing plant ID and looking for Rams along the mountainside. We were out in the field for the second half of the workday, where we successfully keyed out a tricky sedge!! What a gratifying experience that was! That evening, after clocking out, we were invited to kayak and cold plunge on the other end of Kenai Lake with some new friends, and yet again, I felt at home on the water. These spontaneous experiences, from the unexpected sheep survey to the impromptu kayaking trip, not only added excitement to my days but also deepened my connection to the environment and the people around me.
Spotting dall sheep.Kayaking on Kenai Lake.Finding one of my old friends, cotton grass, out in the field.
Each day has been a new experience filled with new knowledge, a deeper connection to my home state, and new connections with people who make me feel more at home than I ever have in Alaska. The imposter syndrome I felt at the beginning of this journey has been soothed by a profound sense of belonging and a yearning to learn and experience more. I can’t wait to see what else is in store this season, and I’m excited to share this journey with you.
“The vastness of the grasslands inspires the openness of spirit”…
This seductive, ecophilic line echoes through my mind every time I lift my head from my work. Laying on my tummy, eyes immersed in the damp understory of the prairie, the sudden panorama of the grasslands stretching for miles around me keeps catching me off guard. At the horizon, Paha Sapa (the Black Hills) border our Hay Canyon research site, and the sedimentary formations of Mako Sica (the Badlands) border Cedar Pass. The effect of this setting on the nervous system is immense- I remember to breathe, I’m filled with gratitude, I feel myself smile. My coworkers and I echo to one another, “it is so beautiful here….”
Paha Sapa (the Black Hills) border the horizon of the Hay Canyon research site in Buffalo Gap National Grasslands. The mixed-short-grass prairie is dominated by yellow sweet clover (Melilotus officinalis).
I’ve thought a lot about the experience of wonder in everyday life while working here. Wonder in the everyday has been a growing theme for me over the last five years exploring the shores of Gitchi Gami (Lake Superior), and now living in Paha Sapa. Growing up, before I realized I could make a career in the outdoors, such experiences of wonder were novel. Visiting Paha Sapa and Mako Sica as a pre-teen with my family came in the form of a packaged vacation experience, complete with Mt. Rushmore and Devil’s Tower voyeurism and starkly colonial narratives. These trips of course contained stunning views and showcased feats of human and nature’s ingenuity, but always ended with a return to the ugly, concrete smothered suburbs of home, and the immersive wonders of nature would soon fall from my mind.
This last week, working solo in the field for 7 hours a day snipping and sorting grass culms, I listened to the audiobook of “The Body Keeps the Score” by B. van der Kolk, M.D. This book is about how trauma shapes our brains and bodies. Van der Kolk explains the disassociation that defines trauma; how our brain’s alarm systems become overwhelmed by incomprehensible stress, beyond our range of biological tolerance, resulting in permanent changes to our physiological functions. The experience of wonder is fascinating to compare- Similarly to trauma, wonder occurs when our experience is beyond what our brains can tolerate and what our minds have frameworks for. Both trauma and wonder occur as an involuntary surrender to incomprehensible experience. Neuroscience explains how both states stimulate the vagus nerve and the same areas of the brain, but in different ways; the effects on the body and spirit seem to be opposite.
Trauma creates a constant sense of danger and helplessness, trapping us in an over-active self-preservation mode that weakens our immune systems and internal functioning. It transforms our worlds into small, self-centered ones where we are in opposition to all. Wonder also transforms the way we see ourselves, making us small, but this occurs in a quiet, humble way. We feel small because the world around us is so grand, mysterious, and deliciously incomprehensible. We are struck by the sense that we are a tiny yet integral part of a greater whole. This connection to the Other and the All fosters peace within our minds and bodies, makes connection to others not only possible, but a driving and undeniable force of life. I see myself reflected in each flower, insect, lichen, cloud, and breeze.
Working outdoors and in ecological fields gifts me with wonder daily, though this is something I’ve had to work hard to access. Studies show that one of the prime ways humans experience wonder is in the moral beauty of others. Growing up, the philosophy of life on earth was presented to me in a “man vs. nature” way, the moral ugliness of which fostered misanthropy. I saw all the ways we interacted with nature as destructive and extractive, as if our role on this planet was antagonistic and hopeless. But education and commitment to ecological study requires in-depth understandings of land-management policy and guiding moral philosophies across time and different cultures. It reveals the multitudes of ways humans have co-existed with and stewarded this planet and our fundamental connection and roles in our home ecosystems.
We work with two Doctors of plant science. I collect such mentors gratefully, learning about how to exist sustainably in this work and taking note of the inspirations and drive of different personalities committed to land stewardship. The quiet confidence and gratitude in one another’s work is reassuring. Working along these professionals is an important reminder that as individuals and as a species, humans have always found life-sustaining meaning and relation to the plants around us. We are no less dependent on them physically and spiritually today than our ancestors were. The moral beauty of these understandings, guided largely by Indigenous wisdom, yet present in all humans, guides my daily experience and often leaves me at a loss for words- pure awe in the wonder of it all.
