A synanthrope (syn-anthrope) [from Greek: syn-anthrope: syn=”together with” + anthropos=”man”] is a wild animal or plant that lives near, and benefits from, an association with humans and the somewhat artificial habitats that people create around themselves.
Horseweed (Erigeron canadensis) and pilewort (Erechtites hieraciifolius) are native North American plants that like disturbed soil. We notice them in August when they start to look ugly.
p.s. (*) Merriam-Webster explains that the word was introduced by botanist Theodor von Heldreich at a botanical conference in Paris, 16-24 August 1878, making its first-ever use almost exactly 144 years ago.
Doe in Schenley Park, July 2019 (photo by Kate St. John)
22 August 2022
Back in 2010 the City of Pittsburgh commissioned a deer count in the parks that found the population was too high and not sustainable for the habitat. Nothing has been done since then to reduce the deer population other than accidentally killing them with our cars.
Twelve years have passed. According to deer experts “Urban deer can live for 10 years; the deer population, if unchecked, doubles about every two years.” Schenley Park now has as much as 60 times the number of deer we had in 2010. This is truly unsustainable, even for the deer themselves.
8-point buck in Schenley Park, 21 August 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
Schenley’s deer have completely consumed all the good food plants and are starting to nibble the poisonous ones. The browse line is painfully obvious. In the process deer have eradicated their favorite plants from Schenley Park.
Orange jewelweed and yellow jewelweed provide nectar for hummingbirds and bumblebees and are a favored food of deer.
Orange jewelweed in Schenley Park in 2018 (photo by Kate St. John)Yellow jewelweed in Schenley Park in 2018 (photo by Kate St. John)
Both jewelweeds were prolific in Schenley Park as recently as four years ago.
Orange jewelweed was prolific in 2017 (photo by Kate St. John)
But this year all the accessible plants have been eaten down to bare stems. The only ones that flower are those in spots unreachable by deer — on extremely steep slopes or hidden among thick cattails in Panther Hollow Lake.
Deer ate the jewelweed, no flowers, no leaves (photo by Kate St. John)
Jewelweeds are annuals that must re-seed every year but no seeds are produced in this deer-browsed landscape. Impatiens will disappear from Schenley Park when the seed bank is exhausted.
False Solomon’s seal used to grow throughout Schenley Park and it carpeted the ground in an area near the Bridle Trail. All of it has been eaten to the ground since 2014. Here’s what it looked like eight years ago.
False Solomon’s seal blooming in May 2012 (photo by Kate St. John)False Solomon’s seal in August 2014 (photo by Kate St. John)
White wood asters used to bloom in Schenley’s woods. Not anymore. Here’s what they looked like in 2013.
White wood asters in Schenley Park, August 2013 (photo by Kate St. John)
Eradicated plants are indirect evidence of too many deer in Schenley Park. Direct evidence is their visibility every day.
A sustainably-sized deer herd would hide in the underbrush while sleeping during the day, but the browse line in Schenley is so severe there is no cover for them. The large herd has coped by becoming accustomed to people and leashed dogs.
I stood near this group of three deer on Sunday 21 August using my snapshot camera zoomed to 90mm (approximately 2x). This 8-point buck did not care that I was there.
8-point buck in velvet, Schenley Park, 21 August 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)Young doe and buck browsing in Schenley Park, 21 August 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)Doe watches a husky dog on a leash approach in the distance, Schenley Park, 21 August 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
Long shadows are back again, 12 August 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
20 August 2022
The days are getting shorter and shadows are getting longer. Pittsburgh had one and a half more hours of daylight on the summer solstice, just two months ago, than we do today.
Late summer flowers are attracting bees.
Allium flower with bee, 16 August 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
Ornamental grasses are going to seed.
Ornamental grass at Phipps (photo by Kate St. John)
And the clouds have been interesting.
Puffy clouds over Millers Ponds, Crawford County, 15 August 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
Can you see the face in the cloud below?
Glowing eyes in the face in the cloud, 17 August 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
Yews are popular landscaping shrubs but they don’t last long in the face of deer overpopulation.
All yew species are toxic to some degree, but our native Taxus canadensis is less toxic than others and was used medicinally. Deer don’t read the warning labels. They love yew.
Every night they creep up behind Carnegie Museum and browse the yews along the driveway to the parking garage. They nip off the small branches and eat all the leaves. The shrubs struggle to grow new leaves for photosynthesis before the deer return.
Yew overbrowsed by deer behind Carnegie Museum, 16 August 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
Deer have killed the yews closest to the sidewalk (dead twigs), overbrowsed the middle shrubs (green knobs), and cannot yet reach the tallest branches. But they are eating their way there.
Yews browsed by deer behind Carnegie Museum, 16 Aug 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
Don’t assume their love stops with yew. There are more delectables in Schenley Park that they adore. Soon we’ll explore more.
Closeup #1 of fossil in Schenley Park (photo by Kate St. John)
10 August 2022
Sometime this summer the Department of Public Works placed a large sandstone rock at the base of the stairs behind the Schenley Park Visitors’ Center. The prominent fossil facing the stairs tells a story about life in Pittsburgh 300 to 330 million years ago.
Fossil rock at the base of the WPA stairs, Schenley Park, 6 August 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
The sand became sandstone and in the early 21st century the rock separated from its fellows thereby exposing the fossil. This rock many have fallen at the Bridle Trail rockslide.
Locations of two closeup photos of the fossil in Schenley Park (photo by Kate St. John)Closeup #2 of fossil in Schenley Park (photo by Kate St. John)
I have never seen Lepidodendron’s closest living relative, Lycopodium, in Schenley Park …
Lycopodium (ground pine or club moss), Laurel Ridge State park, 30 May 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
… but I’ll look for it now that I’ve seen its fossil ancestor.
Thank you to Public Works for placing this fossil rock on display in Schenley Park.
p.s. If this Lepidodendron had fallen in a swamp instead of on a sandy beach, it would have become coal. Read about similar fossils at Ferncliff Peninsula in Ohiopyle State Park in this vintage article: Fossils at Ferncliff
(photos by Kate St. John, illustrations from Wikimedia Commons; click on the captions to see the originals)
Wingstem from bud to seed, Schenley Park, 3 August 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
6 August 2022
By early August many flowers have already produced seeds. Wingstem (Verbesina alternifolia) above displays every step in the process: buds, new flowers, fading flowers and seed packets.
The three-flanged seed pods of American wild yamroot (Dioscorea villosa) are as distinctive as its pleated leaves.
American wild yamroot leaves and seeds, Jennings 29 July 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
Greater celandine (Chelidonium majus) now has both seed pods and flowers (seeds in shadow at left). This alien plant is easy to find in Schenley Park because it is toxic to deer.
Greater celandine with seeds in the background, Schenley Park, 3 August 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
Vine on a vine: Dodder on porcelain berry, 26 July 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
4 August 2022
By the end of July in western Pennsylvania, there are patches of orange string draped over plants in moist locations on the edge of the forest. The orange strings are dodder (Cuscata), a native annual parasitic vine that blooms from July to October.
Dodder wraps itself around its host and inserts tiny haustoria to suck out water and nutrients. Last week I found it parasitizing invasive porcelain berry — Go, dodder! — but dodder won’t beat back the grapevine. Dodder doesn’t kill its host.
Orange string on everything: Dodder wrapped on invasive alien plants, 26 July 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
Look very closely and you can the haustoria clinging and dodder’s tiny flowers that are pollinated by wasps.
Dodder in bloom (photo by Esther Allen)
Dodder will die at the end of the growing season yet you may find it in the same spot every year. Find out why this happens and other interesting tidbits in this vintage article.
Teasel in bloom, Schenley Park, 26 July 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
2 August 2022
This flower head is so spiny and eye catching that we rarely look at the leaves though they’ve been studied intensely at least three times since the 1870s.
Teasel’s (Dipsacus fullonum) paired perfoliate leaves collect rainwater in the cup where they clasp the stem and unwary insects drown in the puddle. Notice the water in the leaf cups below. (Click the first photo to see a marked-up version showing the water line.)
In the mid 1870s Francis Darwin, son of Charles Darwin, hypothesized that teasel digests the decaying insects, then studied and published about the digestive mechanism. Not everyone was convinced. Teasels were studied again and again.
Teasels obviously use spines to defend themselves, but do they play offense, too? Are they carnivorous? It would be nice to think so but we don’t know.
Read more in this 2017 article In Defense of Plants, published before the 2019 study.
(photos by Kate St. John and from Wikimedia Commons)
St. John’s wort on the South Side, 17 July 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
30 July 2022
Wrapping up July …
St. John’s wort’s yellow flowers always attract my attention because the plant shares my name. Find out what’s in the name in this vintage article from 2012.
