Botanizing at Hawn State Park

Pinus echinata (shortleaf pine) woodland at Hawn State Park.

Nestled in the northern foothills of the St. Francois Mountains lies one of Missouri’s most remarkable of places—Hawn State Park. I have written about this place on several occasions and visited even more often, yet I never tire of exploring its sandstone canyons, rhyolite shut-ins, and stately pine forests. As such, I was happy to see it as the selected destination for the WGNSS Botany Group Monday Walk.

A partially frozen Pickle Creek meanders through Hawn State Park.

It was a chilly winter morning when the group met at the picnic area parking lot, and after a bit of discussion to orient ourselves on the plants we might see, we crossed the foot bridge over Pickle Creek to explore the habitats off the Whispering Pines Trail. Almost immediately (in fact, even before completely crossing the bridge), we noticed Alnus serrulata (smooth alder) lining the edges of the creek banks. Unlike many trees, A. serrulata is easy to recognize during winter by virtue of its persistent female cones and newly-formed male catkins. Alnus serrulata is one of five species in Missouri belonging to the family Betulaceae—all five of which occur together here in Hawn State Park (and, in fact, can be found within feet of each other). In the case of this species, the female cones are unique, the male catkins are green and red and occur during winter in clumps, and the winter buds are red with two scales.

Alnus serrulata (smooth alder) – persistent female cones.
Alnus serrulata (smooth alder) – newly-emerged male catkins.
Alnus serrulata (smooth alder) – winter buds.

Immediately after crossing the bridge, we saw the second betulaceous species on slightly higher ground—Corylus americana (American hazelnut). Like A. serrulata, this species is usually a small tree, but it lacks the persistent cones during winter, has more brownish male catkins that may be clumped, especially at the branch tips, but also tend to occur singly along the length of the branch, and has brownish, rounded winter buds and noticeably fuzzy twigs.

Corylus americana (American hazelnut) – male catkins.
Corylus americana (American hazelnut) – winter bud.
Corylus americana (American hazelnut) – male catkins.

Entering the mixed pine-oak forest (and pondering Fr. Sullivan’s oak ID quiz—which turned out to be Quercus coccinea, or scarlet oak), Kathy noticed the persistent fruiting stalks of one of our native terrestrial orchids—Goodyera pubescens (downy rattlesnake plantain). Normally, this orchid is noticed during winter by virtue of its striking white-veined green leaves, but in this case they were completely hidden under leaf litter. Had it not been for the fruiting stalk, we would never have noticed its presence. Hawn State Park has a healthy population of these orchids, and hopefully the fruits of this individual will bear an abundance of its tiny (spore-sized) seeds.

Goodyera pubescens (downy rattlesnake plantain) – last season’s fruiting stalk.

Continuing our off-trail bushwhacking, we eventually reached a series of sandstone canyons that promised not only spectacular ice formations from their constant moisture drip, but the potential for seeing plants that rely on the cool, shaded, moist, acidic nooks and crannies they offer.

Sandstone ledges.

Two fern species were seen. The first was Asplenium platyneuron (ebony spleenwort)—not uncommon and distinguished by the dark, reddish-brown, glossy stipe and rachis (on fertile fronds) with simple pinnate leaves and alternately-arranged leaflets with a basal auricle (ear-lobe). Two columns of elongated sori (spore-bearing structures) oriented diagonally to the central veins can be found on their lower surface of the leaflets. Dryopteris marginalis (marginal wood fern) was also found on the sandstone ledges. This fern is most easily identified by the location of its sori on fertile fronds, which occur along the margins of its subleaflets (some other less common species will have the sori placed more interiorly).

Asplenium platyneuron (ebony spleenwort) – lower leaf surface of fertile frond.
Dryopteris marginalis (marginal wood fern) – lower leaves of fertile frond.
Dryopteris marginalis (marginal wood fern) – lower surface of lower leaves of fertile frond.

The most exciting find on the sandstone ledges was Mitchella repens (partridge berry). This member of the Rubiaceae (same family as coffee) is characteristic of sandstone canyons and ledges and occurs in Missouri only in a few counties in the southeastern part of the state where this habitat exists. The plant is unmistakable and easily identified, especially when in fruit. Interestingly, each of its bright red berries is actually a fusion of two fruits, as evidenced by the pair of minute, persistent calyces at the tip.

Mitchella repens (partridge berry).
Mitchella repens (partridge berry) – fruit showing paired calyces.

Back on-trail, the group focused on identifying the many different tree species along the trail (Quercus coccinea was dominant). One small “tree” had us stumped, however, it’s giant terminal bud with small lateral buds clustered nearby seemingly suggesting oak—until we noted the curious whorl at the branch node and, on a subsequently-seen individual, persistent fruit capsules that immediately identified it as Rhododendron prinophyllum (early azalea). Another lover of acidic pine woodlands, this species is restricted in Missouri to high-quality habitats in the Ozark Plateau, and Hawn State Park has some of the finest populations to be found.

Rhododendron prinophyllum (early azalea) – winter bud.
Rhododendron prinophyllum (early azalea) – branch node.
Rhododendron prinophyllum (early azalea) – last season’s fruiting capsules.

As the group ascended the trail and began pondering whether to turn around, the characteristic leaves of a small saxifrage were seen at the base of an oak tree. Micranthes virginiensis (early saxifrage, Virginia saxifrage) shows a preference for rocky acid soils and reaches the western limit of its distribution in Missouri, where it is limited to a few counties in the Ozarks. A similar but much smaller species, Micranthes texana (Texas saxifrage) can be found in sandstone glades in western Missouri.

Micranthes virginiensis (early saxifrage, Virginia saxifrage).
Micranthes virginiensis (early saxifrage, Virginia saxifrage) – last season’s fruiting stalk.

Returning to Pickle Creek, the group focused on the remaining three species of Betulaceae found in Missouri—and Hawn State Park, all growing in the immediate vicinity of the foot bridge. The three species—Betula nigra (river birch), Carpinus caroliniana (American hornbeam, musclewood, blue beech), and Ostrya virginiana (American hophornbeam), all have numerous subtle characters that distinguish them from the other two members of the family (Alnus and Corylus), but in winter they are most easily recognized by their bark. The flaky, peeling, cinnamon-brown bark of B. nigra is the most distinctive and cannot be mistaken for anything else. This contrasts completely with the smooth, gray, sinuous look of C. caroliniana (which I can’t help but stroke whenever I see it—should I be admitting that!?). In between is the rough, shredded, brownish appearance of O. virginiana (which is further distinguished from C. americana by its pointed rather than rounded buds).

Betula nigra (river birch) – bark.
Carpinus caroliniana (American hornbeam, musclewood, blue beech) – bark.
Ostrya virginiana (American hophornbeam) – bark.

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2022

Botanizing Babler State Park

After missing a week due to inclement weather, the WGNSS Botany Group resumed their weekly Monday walk schedule with a visit to nearby Babler State Park in western St. Louis Co. One of the larger of Missouri’s state parks at nearly 2500 acres, it was initially made possible through the generosity of the family of St. Louis surgeon Edmond A. Babler nearly 100 years ago—barely 20 years after the State Park System was created. For this outing, the group walked the Virginia Day Memorial Nature Trail.

Members of the WGNSS Botany Group (L–R): Rich Thoma, Tom Buescher, Michael Laschober, George Van Brunt, Jennifer Judd, and John Oliver.

The dead of winter in an exurban park can be a challenging situation for seeing unusual plants. In such cases, one is often better served by looking more closely at the familiar to sharpen ID skills and improve ability to identify plants at any stage of growth rather than only when good characters are visible. An example of this with the red oaks. In our area, Quercus shumardii (Shumard’s oak) and Quercus velutina (black oak) are among the most commonly occurring red oaks in our generally dry-mesic upland deciduous forests. They can, however, be difficult to distinguish from one another, as both have highly variable leaves that differ most reliably in subtle characters of pubescence on the lower leaf surface. Without a microscope or strong hand lens, one must often resort to examining many leaves and deciding with which form the preponderance agree.

Quercus shumardii is perhaps the more commonly encountered of the two in our area and exhibits almost no habitat fidelity. It can be found not only in dry, rocky upland woods and borders of glades, but also in valleys and along banks of larger streams and river bottoms. So different in appearance are trees found in the driest situations (e.g., along the margins of glades) from those occurring in moister situations that it is difficult to believe they are the same species. Nevertheless, it can usually be distinguished by the apically flaring leaf lobes. During winter, leaves may be harder to come by, and the small, cone-shaped, brown buds are admittedly nondescript. Basically, in a woods dominated by the two species, Q. shumardii is distinguished by the fact that its buds are anything but the highly distinctive buds of Q. velutina!

Quercus shumardii (Shumard’s oak) – winter buds.

On the other hand, Q. velutina lacks the tolerance for both the very wet and very dry situations that Q. shumardii can handle. In Missouri—at the western limit of its distribution, it is most often found on north or east facing slopes where moisture is adequate but not excessive. Its leaves can be as variable as those of Q. shumardii (although not presenting in distinct forms depending on habitat), but its buds could not be more distinctive—large, distinctly 5-angled, and covered with gray pubescence. In winter, fallen branches are immediately recognizable due to the conspicuousness of the terminal bud clusters.

Quercus velutina (black oak) – winter buds.
Quercus velutina (black oak) – winter buds.

The day was not spent completely focused on winter tree buds—some greenery was seen in the richer, moister low areas along the trail in the form of Aplectrum hyemale (putty root, Adam and Eve orchid). These plants are far more commonly observed during winter than summer due to the appearance then of their distinctive pinstriped, pleated single basal leaf—oftentimes the only green thing present. The leaves disappear in spring, replaced by the much less conspicuous flower stalks.

Aplectrum hyemale (putty root, Adam and Eve orchid).

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2022

Crane flies are insects…

Tipularia discolor (cranefly orchid).

…but craneflies are plants—specifically, orchids, or Tipularia discolor (cranefly orchid).* This past August, the Webster Groves Nature Study Society (WGNSS) Botany Group traveled to the Mississippi Lowlands of southeastern Missouri to look for two species of native orchids, this being one of them. They were not easy to find—even with a location tip, it took a group effort to find them. But persistence paid off, and we found a patch with about 20 individual plants, most in full bloom and a few slightly past.

*One little known “rule” about common names is that the adjective and object (in this case, “crane” being the adjective” and “fly” being the “object”) are separated when the object is true and combined when the object is false or used together as an adjective for another object. Thus, flies in the family Tipulidae are called “crane flies,” because they truly are flies, while orchids of the genus Tipularia are called “cranefly” orchids because they are truly not flies and together form an adjective. Butterfly, dragonfly, and ladybug are examples of straight false objects (thus, for which the common names are compound words), while honey bee, house fly, and assassin bug are further examples of true objects (thus, for which the common names are not compound words).

Tipularia discolor (cranefly orchid).

Everybody who has ever seen this orchid talks about how hard they are to see (despite their relatively tall stature), yet nothing prepares you for just how remarkably difficult they are to see until you encounter them yourself for the first time! I believe this is because of the environment they are in—a dimly-lit forest with dappled light—combined with the lack of contrasting colors on the plants themselves.

Tipularia discolor (cranefly orchid).

This species was not reported from Missouri until 1983, relatively recent, and while for a time it remained known in state only from the southeastern lowlands, it has more recently been reported from several counties across southern Missouri as far northwest as Hickory County. Considering how difficult the plants can be to see, it is tempting to think that this is simply a case of underreporting, but to the contrary the same phenomenon has been observed in Illinois and other states at the edge of its range, leading most botanists to conclude that the species is actually expanding its range. Of course, why this is occurring is anybody’s guess, but it is somewhat satisfying to see at least one native orchid doing well while many others are in decline.

Known distribution of Tipularia discolor (cranefly orchid). Source: BONAP (2014).

I was extremely fortunate in that I did not end up with a bad case of poison ivy as a result of photographing these plants!

Photo by Kathy Bildner.

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2021

Botanizing (again!) at Victoria Glades Conservation Area

By pure coincidence, the WGNSS Botany Group decided to visit Victoria Glades for today’s weekly field trip—just one day after I’d made my own solo visit, so for me a bonus visit! You might think that would result in me seeing the same things that I’d already seen, but unlike yesterday’s solo outing, I had the benefit of multiple pairs of eyes and solid botanical expertise accompanying me and directing my attention to several new-to-me plants.

A clump of sunflowers (Helianthus sp.) caught our attention even before we left the parking lot. Our initial impression was Jerusalem artichoke (H. tuberosus), but it lacked the alternate uppermost leaves usually found in that species. Nevertheless, when we ran it through the key and came to a choice between this species or woodland sunflower (H. hirsutus), we decided that it must be H. tuberosus. As we walked by another clump of the plants, we noticed the first insect of the day—a still-bedded-down helmeted squash bug (Euthochtha galeator), a type of leaffooted bug (family Coreidae)—on one of the older flower heads.

Helmeted squash bug (Euthochtha galeator).

On the glade proper (MDC “west” side), the group was just as excited to immediately see the Great Plains ladies’-tresses orchids (Spiranthes magnicamporum) in bloom as I was yesterday, and I couldn’t resist the urge to take just a few more photos of two of impressively flowering specimens. We also noted the now brilliant red flowering dogwoods (Cornus florida) that anchored the small woody hammocks dotting the glade and were surprised to find a total of eight “tree” species taking refuge in the hammocks, the others being Carolina buckthorn (Rhamnus caroliniana), deciduous holly (Ilex decidua), eastern red-cedar (Juniperus virginiana), dwarf hackberry (Celtis tenuifolia), sugar maple (Acer saccharum), gum bumelia (Sideroxylon lanuginosum), and persimmon (Diospyros virginiana).

Great Plains ladies’-tresses orchid (Spiranthes magnicamporum).
Great Plains ladies’-tresses orchid (Spiranthes magnicamporum).

We made our way to the interface between the glade proper and a large dry post oak woodland hammock, where prairie gentian (Gentiana puberulenta) was found last year. As we walked, we got into a discussion about the pronunciation of the species name for Solidago gattingeri (Gattinger’s goldenrod). While “guh-TIN-jur-eye” may follow general guidelines for pronouncing latinized names, these guidelines do not apply to patronyms—i.e., scientific names derived from the name of a person, and for which the pronunciation of the person’s name is conserved in its latinized form. Since S. gattingeri was named after the German-born botanist Augustin Gattinger (pronounced “GAH-ting-er”) (1825–1903), the latinized form, which has an “i” added to the end of the name, and is thus pronounced “GAH-ting-er-eye.

Reaching the interface and searching for the gentian would prove fruitless, but it was not without its consolations. The first of these was one of the blue asters, which we eventually determined to be azure aster (Symphyotrichum oolentangiense)—distinguished by its rough leaves with the basal ones arrowhead-shaped. This species sparked a further conversation about how to pronounce the double-o at the beginning of the name. In latinized nomenclature, all vowels must be pronounced (except the diphthongs ae and oe, both of which are pronounced “ee”). The specific epithet derives from the Olentangy River in Ohio, but the person who named the species misspelled it, adding an extra “o” at the beginning. Unfortunately, the rules of nomenclature demand that original spellings, even those considered misspellings, be conserved (unless certain special conditions are met), thus, the specific epithet must begin with a double-o, and both of them must be pronounced. Further, since it is derived from a place name, the pronunciation of “Olentangy” also must be preserved. As a result, the species name is pronounced “oh-OH-len-TAN-jee-in-see.”

Azure aster (Symphyotrichum oolentangiense) inflorescences.
Azure aster (Symphyotrichum oolentangiense) inflorescence.
Azure aster (Symphyotrichum oolentangiense) basal leaves.

As we continued searching the glade-woodland interface, we encountered a healthy little patch of rough goldenrod (Solidago radula). Only a few of the plants bore inflorescences in good condition, but the plants were nevertheless recognizable by their small size and numerous rigid, scabrous, serrate leaves. We were pleasantly surprised to find this fairly conservative species (CC = 6), and everybody agreed that the species name is pronounced “RAD-yew-luh.”

Rough goldenrod (Solidago radula) inflorescence.
Rough goldenrod (Solidago radula) leaf.
Rough goldenrod (Solidago radula) stem/leaves.

When we reached the area where we were certain we should find prairie gentian, we instead found silky aster (Symphyotrichum sericeum)—their silvery leaves glistening in the sun and branchy stems mostly devoid of lower leaves making them visible and recognizable even from afar. This highly conservative species (CC = 9) is restricted to only a handful of states in the upper Midwest.

Silky aster (Symphyotrichum sericeum) inflorescence.
Silky aster (Symphyotrichum sericeum) upper leaves.
Silky aster (Symphyotrichum sericeum).

Once satisfied that we’d done our due diligence in our search for prairie gentian, we headed towards the top of the knoll where stiff sunflower (Helianthus pauciflorus) and rough white lettuce (Nabalus asper) have been observed in recent years. The sunflowers were found easily, though all in the apparently expanding patch were past bloom, but it took careful searching and reference to a GPS reading to find what amounted to just two, post-bloom white lettuce individuals. This latter species has a distribution centered roughly across Missouri and Iowa and is fairly conservative (CC = 7).

Rough white lettuce (Nabalus asper) post-bloom inflorescences.

As we headed back towards the parking lot, we passed through a peninsula of dry post oak woodland, giving us the opportunity to see yet another blue aster, this one being prairie aster (Symphyotrichum turbinellum). This is another fairly conservative species (CC = 6) whose distribution centers over Missouri and extends to only a few surrounding states. The elliptic leaves, branched habit, and “vase-shaped” involucre were all clues to its identity.

Prairie aster (Symphyotrichum turbinellum) inflorescence.
Prairie aster (Symphyotrichum turbinellum) involucre.
Prairie aster (Symphyotrichum turbinellum) leaf.

By then, only John and Kathy remained and were ready to call it a day, but I had a hankering to visit the TNC “east” side to check the ninebarks (Physocarpus olulifolius intermedius) that grow along the toeslopes at the interface between the glade proper and the riparian woodland below to look for Dicerca pugionata—a spectacular jewel beetle (family Buprestidae) that breeds in the plant’s woody branches. This beetle is rarely encountered throughout most of its range across the eastern U.S. but seems to be common at this location—perhaps due to the general unthriftiness of the plants growing along the toeslopes, a drier than preferred situation that may compromise their ability to fend off colonization by the beetle. The beetles can be reliably found in spring and fall by examining the stems and leaves. As I searched for the beetles, I encountered “blue aster #4” on the day—aromatic aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium). In the case of this species, the reflexed phyllaries, branched habit, and oblanceolate sessile leaves absent at the base were the first clues to its identity. Crushing one of the leaves and smelling its fragrance left no further doubt.

Aromatic aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium) inflorescences.
Aromatic aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium) involucres.
Aromatic aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium) inflorescences/upper stem.
Aromatic aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium) leaf.

Continuing my search for the beetles, I noticed a garden spider (Argiope sp.) in its web. Something about it did not look right for the species we normally see in Missouri—the black-and-yellow garden spider (A. aurantia), and I eventually determined it to be instead a subadult male banded garden spider (A. trifasciata). The webs of this species tend to be more hidden than those of A. aurantia, and the preferred habitat is said to be drier, which may explain why this species tends not to be seen very often compared to its more commonly encountered cousin.

Banded garden spider (Argiope trifasciata).

Eventually, I found two D. pugionata individuals perched on the outer twigs and leaves of ninebark—just as I expected, and I took comfort knowing that this rarely encountered species continues to thrive in this unique location.

Dicerca pugionata on leaf of ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius intermedius).

Remarkably, I would encounter one more “blue aster,” finding spreading aster (Symphyotrichum patens) as I searched around and through the dry post oak woodland at the top of the slope in hopes that I might still find prairie gentian. This species, found in Missouri only south of the Missouri River, is easy to identify (even by entomologists) by virtue of its purple ray flowers with yellow disks and strongly clasping stem leaves with distinctive rounded basal auricles.

Spreading aster (Symphyotrichum patens) inflorescences.
Spreading aster (Symphyotrichum patens) leaf.
Spreading aster (Symphyotrichum patens) involucres.

Five “blue asters” on the day, however, was enough to make this entomologist’s head spin, and with five hours in the field on a spectacular fall day, I finally headed back to the parking lot to close out the day.

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2021

Orchids blooming at Victoria Glades Conservation Area

Victoria Glades Conservation Area.

The late summer explosion of yellow composites has subsided greatly over the past week—Missouri conflower (Rudbeckia missouriensis) and rosinweed (Silphium integrifolium), and ashy sunflower (Helianthus mollis) have all gone to seed, and only sporadic still-blooming individuals of prairie dock (Silphium terebinthinaceum) and goldenrods—including old field goldenrod (Solidago nemoralis), stiff goldenrod (S. rigida), and Gattinger’s goldenrod (S. gattingeri)—can be found. Gattinger’s goldenrod, in particular, deserved extra attention, as this species has only a few known population centers and comes as close to a true Missouri endemic as any plant species in the state. It can be distinguished by its basally disposed, glaucus leaves which become very small on the upper stem and its pyramidal inflorescences radiating out from the stem in all directions.

Solidago gattingeri (Gattinger’s goldenrod).
Solidago gattingeri (Gattinger’s goldenrod).
Solidago gattingeri (Gattinger’s goldenrod).

The decline of the fall composites does not mean, however, that the glades are now without color, as vibrant purples still dot the glade perimeter in the form of Liatris asperas (rough blazingstar).

Liatris asperas (rough blazingstar).
Liatris asperas (rough blazingstar).
Liatris asperas (rough blazingstar).

Sumacs, as well—both shining (Rhus copallinum) and fragrant (R. aromatica), and flowering dogwood (Cornus florida) have already begun turning rusty to bright red.

Shining shining (Rhus copallinum).
Shining shining (Rhus copallinum).

Nor does it mean that nothing new is coming into flower—Great Plains ladies’-tresses orchid (Spiranthes magnicamporum) are blooming for the first time this week, and I saw numerous individuals still developing their inflorescences to suggest a fantastic October display is around the corner.

Great Plains ladies’-tresses orchid (Spiranthes magnicamporum).
Great Plains ladies’-tresses orchid (Spiranthes magnicamporum).
Great Plains ladies’-tresses orchid (Spiranthes magnicamporum).
Great Plains ladies’-tresses orchid (Spiranthes magnicamporum).
Great Plains ladies’-tresses orchid (Spiranthes magnicamporum).

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2021

Botanizing at Pickle Creek Natural Area

View atop a sandstone hoodoo.

Our destination for this week’s Monday field trip with the Webster Groves Nature Study Society (WGNSS) Botany Group was Pickle Creek Natural Area. This gem of a site has one of the most natural history action-packed 2.5 miles of trail in Missouri, featuring moist sandstone canyons, fascinating sandstone “hoodoos,” and unique sandstone glades. Fr. Sullivan got there early to beat the heat and had a few interesting things to show us in the small sandstone glade (more correctly called a xeric sandstone prairie) near the trailhead. These included two new-to-me glade specialists: Hypericum gentianoides (pineweed), and Trichostema dichotomum (blue curls).

Hypericum gentianoides (pineweed).
Hypericum gentianoides (pineweed).

Beginning along the trail we saw two species of aster still not quite ready to bloom: Symphyotrichum anomalum (many-rayed aster), with its distinctively reflexed phyllaries, and S. patens (spreading aster), distinctive by its strongly clasping leaves with rounded basal auricles. Two species of goldenrod were also present: the very common Solidago nemoralis (old-field goldenrod) in early bloom, and the very conservative (CC value = 8) S. buckleyi (Buckley’s goldenrod), its buds still growing for bloom in early September. Passing through the first of many deep cuts through the sandstone, we saw a small Aralia racemosa (American spikenard)—cousin to the devil’s walking sticks (A. spinosa) that we saw last week in southeastern Missouri. The plant was already past bloom and sporting bright red-purple berries.

Aralia racemosa (American spikenard).
Aralia racemosa (American spikenard).

Further down into one of the moist valleys, we found one of our objectives: Goodyera pubescens (downy rattlesnake plantain). I have seen this native orchid many times, as it’s distinctive white-veined leaves are a prominent winter sight in this area; however, this was the first time that I’ve seen them in bloom. Most of those with flower stalks were a bit past peak bloom, but we found at least a couple of plants still with good flowers for photographs. There were also many more basal leaf rosettes in the area without flower stalks, indicating a good population.

Goodyera pubescens (downy rattlesnake plantain).
Goodyera pubescens (downy rattlesnake plantain).
Goodyera pubescens (downy rattlesnake plantain).

The sandstone hoodoos of the area are among its most unique feature, and John showed us a spot on one of them where all three Missouri species of Vaccinium (a genus of plants in the blueberry family) can be found growing right next to each other: V. arboreum (farkleberry), V. pallidum (lowbush blueberry), and V. stramineum (deerberry).

All three Missouri Vaccinium species can be seen in this photo: V. arboreum (farkleberry) at upper right, V. pallidum (lowbush blueberry) at right-center, and V. stramineum (deerberry) at lower left.

The last mile of the hike was more difficult due to the heat, but the deep, sandstone canyons and moist north-facing bluff still provided visual interest and a bit of cool relief. At the end of the hike, John almost tripped over a Geotrupes splendidus (splendid earth-boring beetle) lumbering across the trail.

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2021

Orchid Valley Natural Area

This month’s destination for the WGNSS Natural History Photography Group was Orchid Valley Natural Area in Hawn State Park. This natural area is south of the main park and not normally open to the public, but we were granted permission to enter by the park administration. Our targets were several species of orchids and other rare plants that are known to occur in the area—showy orchis (Galearis spectabilis) being the one I hoped most to see.

Our group for the day (front to back): me, Lynne, David, Casey, Avery, James, Bill, and Rich (Chris behind tree at back).

There are no trails here—not even a place to park, as we squeezed our cars against the side of the road at a spot that appeared to provide good access. A bit of GPS-guided bushwhacking brought us to increasingly rough and sloping ground that ended up at the edge of a cliff overlooking one of the sandstone box canyons that this area is know for—down below was where we wanted to go. Wild azaleas lined the upper canyon edges with their stunning pink blossoms. We followed the canyon edge and found a way down, then circled back into the canyon to find a stunning waterfall, its sandstone walls dripping with mosses and ferns. We spent quite a bit of time here photographing the waterfall and surrounding area before eventually resuming the search for the orchids that we came to see.

Bill surveys a waterfall at the center of a sandstone box canyon.

The waterfall fell about 25 feet onto the sandstone rocks below, its splash creating perfect conditions for luxurious growth of mosses and ferns.

Mosses sending up their “stems” (actually setae), each holding up a capsule filled with spores.

Sadly, the orchids were not yet in bloom—not even close, another victim of the cold, late spring we’ve been experiencing. Casey, our group leader, did find some very small showy orchis leaves, and we saw some nice clumps of another native orchid, rattlesnake plantain (Goodyera pubescens), an evergreen orchid that blooms during late summer. We hiked up another drainage that led to another box canyon—lacking a waterfall but equally impressive, nonetheless—but found no orchids in bloom there, either. We did, however, see cinnamon ferns sending up their spike-like fertile fronds and aggregations of antlion larvae (a.k.a. “doodlebugs”) in the soil beneath the sandstone ledges.

Leaves of rattlesnake plantain (Goodyera pubescens).

Moss growth is luxuriant in the wet sandstone exposures inside the box canyons.

Sandstone ledge above a box canyon.

Pits of antlions, or “doodlebugs”, clustered in the soil beneath a sandstone ledge. Ants and other insects that fall into the pits are quickly dispatched by the sickle-shaped mandibles of the bug lying buried at the bottom of the pit.

You might think failure to find what we were looking for would result in a disappointing field trip—far from it! Time in the field with like-minded friends in a beautiful spot is always a pleasure, and when it comes to searching for rare plants (or insects, or whatever), failure is the norm—making success, when it does come, that much sweeter. There will be other chances to see showy orchis (perhaps in a couple of weeks).

© Ted C. MacRae 2019

2019 WGNSS Nature Photo Contest

Last night the Webster Groves Nature Study Society (WGNSS) held their 2019 Nature Photo Contest, and I was fortunate to have a 1st place winner in the ‘Plants and Fungi’ category! This photograph of grassleaved lady’s tresses orchid (Spiranthes vernalis) flowers was taken at Taberville Prairie Natural Area in St. Clair Co., Missouri. Like other species of lady’s tresses orchids, their tubular flowers are arranged in a spiral along the inflorescence and cross-pollinated primarily by long-tongued bees (e.g. bumblebees, Bombus spp., and megachilid bees) (van der Cingel 2001).

Spiranthes vernalis (spring lady's tresses)

Grassleaved lady’s tresses orchid (Spiranthes vernalis), Taberville Prairie Natural Area, St. Clair Co., Missouri.

Spiranthes is one of the more complex genera of North American orchids, with seven species known to occur in Missouri (Summers 1985), and like almost all orchids, their pollination biology is fascinating! The flowers are “protandrous”, i.e., they are functionally male when they first open and become functionally female as they age. Since they open sequentially from the base of the inflorescence as it grows, this results in female flowers on the lower portion of the inflorescence and male flowers on the upper portion.  Thus, bee pollinators tend to act as pollen donors when visiting lower flowers and pollen recipients when visiting upper flowers.  Male pollinia are attached to the bee’s proboscis as it tries to access the nectar secreted into the base of the floral tube and then come in contact with the female stigma in the next flower that the bee visits.  Bees generally start at the bottom of an inflorescence when visiting a plant and then spiral up to the top before flying to the next plant.  Such “acropetal movement” is likely a result of the tendency for nectar rewards to be greater in the lower flowers, and it ultimately promotes cross-fertilization between neighboring plants.

This was the 4th edition of the contest, which has been held every other year since the inaugural edition in 2013. I’ve earned 2nd and 3rd place honors in the plants category each time before; however, this was my first win in that category. In addition to plants, I also had entries in the ‘Invertebrates’ (restricted to photos taken in Missouri or one of its contiguous states) and ‘Travel’ (open to photos taken anywhere in the world) categories, with one photo each making it to the final round of judging. You’ve seen them both before—Neotibicen superbus (below left—photographed at Mincy Conservation Area, Taney Co., Missouri) and Agrilus walsinghami (below right—photographed at Davis Creek Park, Washoe Co., Nevada). In the end, however, they both got beat out by the competition, so I only had the one winning photograph this time. Nevertheless, it was a 1st place winner, so I am very satisfied.

The WGNSS Nature Photo Contest has quickly become one of the organization’s marquee events, with the number of entries, caliber of competition, and attendance all exceeding the previous three editions. My thanks to the judges who volunteered their time, the attendees who supported the event, and especially to Bill Duncan, Chair of WGNSS’s Nature Photography Group (and an expert nature photographer in his own right), who worked hard to make this event the success that it was (and took home some well-deserved wins of his own). I look forward to the next competition in 2021!

REFERENCES:

Summers, B.  1981.  Missouri Orchids.  Missouri Department of Conservation, Natural History Series No. 1, 92 pp.

van der Cingel, N. A.  2001.  An Atlas of Orchid Pollination: America, Africa, Asia and Australia. A. A. Balkema, Rotterdam, Netherlands, 296 pp.

© Ted C. MacRae 2019