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Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
The Beauty of Botany
With the environmental tidal wave in full force, carrying
droves of people to the wilderness, leaving some to recreate within and bask in
the inherent beauty, others to preserve the dwindling segments that remain, and
a handful to study its importance in relation to ecology or perhaps human
benefit, it’s generally seen and handled in broad terms, which when we think of
nature, more often brings to mind a flowing landscape, with the individual
parts escaping us. While we are frequently told to “think of the larger
picture” in dealing with most things, this cliché colloquialism has become so
ingrained as to impede us from recognizing the true depth of what surrounds. We
see a forest comprised of trees, picking up that some are large and some small,
some evergreen and others deciduous, and that is about the extent that we delve
into it. Our vision is black and white. We either fail to notice, or if we do
possess a moderately observant eye, fail to truly absorb what was witnessed,
quickly acknowledging its beauty and then moving on to the next sight, lumping
everything together with a low curiosity, curbed by modern distractions. That
so few can correctly pin a species name onto a tree or wildflower proves my
point.
While it’s somewhat
understandable that those from the congested cities and other major
metropolitan areas are rusty when it comes plant identification, I find it
perplexing that those who live in wooded areas or devote large chunks of their
free time to rambling in the outdoors, be it a hike or camping expedition, fail
to be acquainted with what surrounds on more than the most superficial basis. Most
can discern the well known and expansive genera when it comes to trees, such as
the oaks and maples—but point to a birch, beech, ash, aspen, hornbeam,
sassafras, or hemlock, and the identity and all other pertinent information on
the species escapes them. Ask what they are individually useful for when it
comes to the ecological health of the forest, or what value man has in them in
terms of lumber, medicinal, or consumptive purposes, after a short head scratch
the generic “they produce oxygen and wood” is all that can be said on the
matter. This aloofness is comparable with being ignorant of the names of
neighbors that have resided in the same spot for years—knowing their faces and
nothing else, no knowledge of occupation, interests, or life history. Essentially,
it equates to an impersonal interaction that barely acknowledges their
existence and could easily be mistaken for contempt or hatred. Where has the
spark of curiosity and interest departed to?
We’re so immersed in artificiality that the splendor of the
natural world no longer draws crowds as it once did. Nevertheless, botany is
one field which is still as exciting as ever for those willing to drop the
digital distractions, roll up their sleeves, and make a true uninhibited return
to nature.
Knowing even the smallest or barest of details about a plant
can easily increase the awe of an interaction tenfold. Knowing for example that
a specimen is exceedingly rare will boost attention and respect, even if it
lacks remarkable attributes when it comes to form or figure. Before this small
snippet of knowledge was imparted the plant would probably be passed by without
even a modicum of recognition, lacking any striking physical traits that
capture the attention of the eye, but now it’s elevated to a level with a
vibrant and showy rose. Beauty takes on more than one form.
Likewise, understanding the complexities of certain plants’
life cycles can make their presence appear no less than the work of a miracle.
Take, for example, the finicky orchids, a primitive class of plants that rely
on the presence on fungi for germination, and in many cases, continued lifetime
survival. The miniscule dust-like orchid seeds, unlike those of most plants,
lack the necessary nourishment to help a plant begin growing and sustain it
until it’s capable of producing its own food. Orchids rely on special fungi, or
in certain instances, a very specific species of fungus, to initiate and
provide sustenance to the young plant. If the correct fungi is absent in the
soil the plants will simply not sprout. Similarly, removing the orchid from
their habitat in hopes of transplanting elsewhere will break the mutual bond
between the two and the orchid will almost certainly wither and die,
immediately or in the long run. Moreover, the soil conditions have to be just
right. Any small variation in conditions will prevent the plants from gaining
traction in the environment.
A majority of plants, except the hardiest of them, usually
species regarded as weeds, have similar, though often less strict guidelines
that must be adhered to if the plant is to survive and make it to maturation.
The habitats that they reside in must have the proper climate, sunlight, soil moisture
content, nutrient levels and pH. Many have narrow tolerance ranges that
restrict them to a specific part of a habitat that they are fine tuned to
exploit and thrive in. In ecology this is known as a niche. One plant may be
suited to hydric environments, perpetually damp and nutrient rich areas along
lakes, streams, or other wetlands, while another may do best atop craggy
mountain summits with thin soil that quickly desiccates and is subjected to
extremes in temperature and other harsh weather conditions, such as forceful winds.
It’s incredibly empowering to take a walk through the woods
and understand the facts and functions of each part of nature, being able to
give a detailed account, as a mechanic would to someone trying to understand
the workings of a car. Such knowledge raises your spirits and confidence. And when
something is encountered that does evade you, it piques the mind, setting the
gears in motion to unravel the mystery. Once a puzzle has been started, any
missing piece forces the individual into a mad dash to locate it to ensure a
tidy and pleasing picture, free of irksome gaps—so it is with botany.
Additionally, rambling the woods and stumbling upon
unexpected wonders that you’ve only heard or read about, or perhaps purposely
seeking out a particular plant, is not only exciting, but soothingly relaxing
as well. Prior to the 20th century recreational botany was a wide
reaching hobby that all ages partook in, unlike today where it’s an arena
mostly reserved for professional botanists and horticulturalists—those making a
living off the study or propagation of plants. Up until the end of the
Victorian era it was a well respected pastime that could be equated today, at
least in terms of popularity, with the level of interest that’s shown when it
comes to trendy sports. The thrill of discovery kept people enamored and
constantly journeying back into the wild in search of more.
Though it’s substantially less likely to discover a new
species of plant nowadays, especially in this well trodden country, there are
still rare finds to be found that make botanical excursions worthwhile. There
are multitudes of species which have “disappeared” from an area over the years
for whatever reason—urbanization, habitat destruction, invasive species
introduction, and have become seemingly extirpated (regionally eradicated).
Many of these do in fact still persist despite a lack of documentation, having
remained well hidden as a result of precipitously dwindling populations. It’s comparable
to losing a needle in a haystack. It can be found, but it’s going to take
considerable effort. Rediscovering a lost species that has escaped notice for
decades, or even centuries, is extremely satisfying and demonstrates adroitness
in ID skills and perseverance, and as always, a bit of good luck. The same goes
for coming across a rare plant which has never been recorded before in a
particular locale.
Even if you’re not on the hunt for rare varieties, the search
for a plant no matter the type is an exhilarating experience that often leads
to much more than ever could be expected or hoped for. Countless times when I’ve
been threading the woods looking for something, without even the slightest bit
of luck or encouragement, and my spirits began to plummet, I fortuitously came
across some intriguing plant, animal, or other remarkable natural feature that caused
me to forget everything—even if I had been searching in vain for hours— and led
me to divert my entire attention to this object which now superseded all else.
I was again propelled forward, fueled by the beneficence and novelty of nature.
Coming across a grove of spring ephemeral wildflowers
consisting of the hundreds or thousands—perhaps of the quirky Dutchman’s
breeches, or maybe the riparian trout lilies, thriving contentedly in some
dark, dank recess of a forest still mostly bleached from the harshness of
winter, putting forth a lively display of vibrant and showy colors exhibited
seemingly for your sole enjoyment, demonstrates better than any musty fairy tale
or parable how all things can be overcome. The flowers’ unbridled exuberance quietly
expresses the fact that not even the coldest weather or deepest of snows can
kill its determination to renew itself. It’s inspiring, elegant, beautiful.
In a similar vein,
the discovery of wild fruit, be it plump grapes, blueberries, raspberries, or the
autumnal ruby cranberries after tramping through the woods for hours on end appears
to be Nature handing you a plate with permission to imbibe whatever catches
your fancy. With the level of hunger usually possessed after a long day of
physical exertion the choices appear to be grander than any of the platters a partied
banquet can offer. Where else can generosity of such an unreciprocal nature be
found?
While many impressive experiences are to be had even if one
jumps into the outdoors for nothing more than an idle hike, it helps to be
acquainted with botany to fully enjoy what’s seen and to ensure painful
mistakes don’t crop up along the way. For example, what good would wild berries
be to us if we didn’t know which were edible and which poisonous? Certainly we
would leave every one we encountered alone and would never know the unique
taste of nature’s varied candy. What about poison ivy, poison oak, and poison
sumac—can you identify them to avoid an itchy and painful rash which otherwise
might crop up after a day in the woods? But most importantly, after stumbling
upon a stunning and eye catching beauty of a flower, will you have knowledge
enough to leave it alone, or will you pick or dig up that plant—never knowing
its rarity and expunging it from existence.
Monday, January 12, 2015
Fringed Gentian (Gentianopsis crinita)
While the spring holds the distinction of hosting the
largest bloom of wildflowers of any season, it’s in the early fall that one of
the showiest and loveliest flowers of the year makes a vibrant and elegant
appearance that puts other many well known species to shame. Fringed gentian, an
ethereal blue to light amethyst flower, standing 2-3 feet tall, capable of
producing up to 100 2-inch long flowers, typically blossoms from mid-September to
early October. Its level of admiration and praise by poets and naturalists
alike is uncanny.
William Cullen Bryant penned a stirring poem solely
dedicated to this species which he described as “Blue—blue—as if the sky let
fall/A flower from its cerulean wall.” “It is too remarkable a flower,” Thoreau
once mused, “not to be sought out and admired each year, however rare.” The
Catskills naturalist, John Burroughs, shared similar thoughts, believing it to
be “the most beautiful of our fall flowers,” adding further, “it lures and
holds every passing human eye.”
Growing from Canada to northern Georgia and west to North
Dakota, this species has a wide range over eastern North America, with
population densities the highest in the northeast, and lowest in the south.
Despite this encompassing distribution, fringed gentian can be notoriously
difficult to find, possessing a strict and narrow set of acceptable growing
conditions. Preferring moderately damp environments, plants are often found
rooted around fens, swamps, and other moist locales that are relatively open
and offer abundant light. Moreover, these locations must be neutral to slightly
alkaline in nature, usually being underpinned with limestone, serpentine, or
rock rich in magnesium. Alkaline habitats are sparse within the plant’s natural
range. Over the years wetland destruction has substantially dwindled the number
of these previously uncommon refuges. Many states now have gentians listed as
protected species due to their increasing rarity.
Plants are biennial, vegetating their first year as low
basal rosettes, and the next finally sprouting vertically to produce the enticing
azure blossoms that emulate the sky. A successful pollination will result in
each flower producing hundreds of seeds. Once seeds have matured the plant will
die off. Since individual gentians are short-lived, populations therefore may
widely fluctuate on a yearly basis and are fully dependant on a strong seed
base. With tempting blossoms readily picked and seeds frequently flushed out of
their choice habitat by seasonal freshets, a result of their low lying
dwelling, populations can be vigorously abundant one year and completely absent
the next. Fringed gentian’s fussiness and fleeting nature can make locating a
specimen a tricky challenge.
It’s definitely worth the time and effort to find these
dazzling autumnal plants. Poking their graceful blossoms above the rapidly
withering grasses and falling leaves, they’re the lively gems of the autumnal
season that seem to ignore the impending cold and darkness, heroically running into battle with winter,
while their compatriots have beat a hasty retreat until more favorable times
appear.
If you’re lucky enough to find a flower, hold onto some of
the patience that’s gotten you this far. Unlike most other plants which are apt
to display their flowers gaudily, fringed gentian is slow to reveal its
secrets. It’s in no rush to vulgarly or conceitedly show its beauty, and does
so in only the most refined manner. Flowers close each night and not until the
day warms and brightens sufficiently will they slowly unfurl again. During damp
and cloudy weather the flowers will remain tightly twisted shut, sometimes for
the whole day, undoubtedly a mechanism to protect the precious nectar and
pollen within.
I’ve often visited these sites on cool fall mornings and
found the plants seamlessly sealed like oysters or clams, yet draped in a
sparkling pearly dew, and was not disappointed with I saw. Nothing about this
plant is mundane. The unopened buds and shut flowers still dazzle and impress
like no other. And if you have time enough to wait for the day to advance, it’s
well worthwhile to stay and witness these fragile plants open to reveal their four
delicately fringed petals, each endowed with the texture and softness of silk.
The elegant sophistication and superiority of these flowers, along with its
regal hues, makes fringed gentian the undisputed ruler of the fall
wildflowers—and perhaps of the entire year’s.
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