Turtleheads at Westinghouse Memorial, Schenley Park, 4 Oct 2021 (photo by Kate St. John)
9 October 2021
White turtleheads (Chelone glabra) are widely distributed in eastern North America while pink ones (Chelone lyoni) have a narrow range in the Blue Ridge Mountains. These showy flowers were planted at the Westinghouse Memorial in Schenley Park.
Arrow-leaved tearthumb (Persicaria sagittata) has very tiny white flowers enclosed in a pink bud. I used to think the flowers were pink until I examined this one.
Arrow-head leaved tearthumb, Moraine State Park, 6 Oct 2021 (photo by Kate St. John)
Purple passionflower (Passiflora incarnata) is so fancy that it must be tropical, right? Actually, it’s native to the southern U.S. This vine was blooming on 3 October on Phipps Conservatory’s garden fence. Wow!
Passion flower blooming along the fence at Phipps Conservatory, Schenley Park, 3 Oct 2021 (photo by Kate St. John)
Did you know these asters close at night? I didn’t until I saw them opening in after dawn on Friday.
Asters opening when morning light reaches them, Schenley Park, 8 October 2021 (photo by Kate St. John)
And here’s a curiosity that looks like a pinecone, but it’s not. Willow pinecone galls are made by the willow to protect itself from an insect. Inside each gall is the larva of a midge whose mother laid eggs at the tip of the branch. The larva will overwinter here and emerge as an adult in the spring … unless a bird hammers the gall and eats the insect.
Willow pinecone galls, Moraine State Park, 6 Oct 2021 (photo by Kate St. John)
Tiny purple and white flowers are blooming this month on stems that stand a foot tall in the woods. Unless you know where to look for them, though, you’ll probably never see them. These brown plants match the ground.
Beechdrops (Epifagus virginiana) have no chlorophyll because they are parasitic on the roots of beech trees (Fagus grandifolia). To find the flowers, I find a beech tree(*) then put my head close to the ground and look sideways near the roots.
Beechdrops (Epifagus virginiana) bloom from July to December, producing self-pollinating flowers at the base of the plant and cross-pollinating flowers at the top, though some of the top flowers are sterile.
The top flowers are pollinated by the winter ant (Prenolepis imparis) that aestivates underground when its hot and only comes out in cold weather. I imagine that’s why the July-blooming flowers are self-pollinating.
Beechdrops are so dependent on the American beech that their seeds don’t germinate until they detect a chemical signal from the tree.
Beech is really in their name. The genus Epifagus is Greek for epi = On + fagus = Beech.
Literally, on the beech.
p.s. (*)Find a beech tree: American beeches have very smooth pale bark. See this blog post for tips on how to identify them: Winter Trees: American Beech.
(photos from Wikimedia Commons and Flickr Creative Commons license; click on the captions to see the originals)
Oriental lady’s thumb is an Asiatic smartweed, Schenley Park, 10 Sep 2021 (photo by Kate St. John)
13 September 2021
Today’s article began with a question asked three times: What is that weed? I couldn’t remember the name even though I knew each was in the knotweed family (Polygonaceae) and that a similar native species was named for Pennsylvania.
On the first question I took a picture in Schenley Park, above. On the second question, Claire Bauerle took a picture at Duff Park, below. My plant and Claire’s plant are both alien but not the same species.
Lady’s thumb (photo by Claire Bauerle)
Claire’s plant shows its name on its leaves, a shadowy thumbprint in the center of the leaf.
Lady’s thumb (Persicaria maculosa) is a Eurasian smartweed that first appeared in the Great Lakes region in 1843, has spread across the continent, and is sometimes invasive. The dark thumbprint is a simple way to identify the plant.
My plant is similar but lacks the thumbprint. Not the same species but my photo is not detailed enough for a complete identification. My guess is Oriental lady’s thumb (Persicaria longiseta) a common weed in Asian rice paddies introduced to North America near Philadelphia in 1910 and now found across eastern North America.
The third question was answered on Sunday’s Botanical Society walk on the South Side where we found the smartweed named for Pennsylvania.
Pinkweed or Pennsylvania smartweed (Persicaria pensylvanica) now grows in waste places around the world. Gangly-looking compared to the lady’s thumbs, it has longer stalks, thinner leaves, and fatter, shorter, paler flower heads.
Pinkweed or Pennsylvania smartweed mixed in with other weeds, 12 Sep 2021 (photo by Kate St. John)
Here’s a single stalk.
Pinkweed or Pennsylvania smartweed, 12 Sep 2021 (photo by Kate St. John)
It has no flower bristles like those found on Oriental lady’s thumb P. maculata.
Flower heads of pinkweed (photo by Kate St. John)
All three smartweeds have stems that connect to the stalks at knot-like ochreas. Two of them, P. longiseta and P. pensylvanicum have bristly ochreas, shown below.
Bristly ochrea on pinkweed, P. pensylvanicum (photo by Kate St. John)
Identifying smartweeds is much trickier than I’ve described so I may have misidentified the first two plants.
If I was smart I’d know what to look for and take better pictures to key them out.
(photo taken at Moraine State Park 2 Sep 2021, by Kate St. John)
3 September 2021
Seven of us retired ladies went birding yesterday morning at Moraine State Park. After a flurry of warblers we found this pink fleshy thing on the ground, the size an index finger.
As we tried to identify it someone suggested a fungus called devil’s fingers. Linda uploaded a photo to iNaturalist and the answer came back right away: the devil’s dipstick.
Umm, yah. “Small devil.” We dissolved in laughter.
After we’d wiped the laughing tears from our eyes we googled for more.
Mutinus elegans, a member of the Phallaceae family, is also known as elegant stinkhorn or headless stinkhorn.
As the egg-shaped fruiting body matures it ruptures and the spongy spore-bearing stalk emerges; fully grown, it may be from 0.4 to 5.9 inches long and 0.6 to 0.8 inches thick. The stalk is hollow and strongly wrinkled overall; its shape is cylindrical below, but it gradually tapers to a narrow apex with a small opening at the tip.
The one we found was an old specimen. When new, the stalk stands up and the upper third is coated with a stinky greenish-brown spore-containing slime that attracts flies to bear away the spores. Here’s a newer specimen, photographed in Florida.
Schenley Park outing, 29 August 2021 (photos by Kate St. John)
29 August 2021
This morning’s outing in Schenley Park was very well attended — 28 people! — so I had to paste two photos together to get (almost) everyone in.
The weather was clammy-hot and the birds were not active but bugs were easy to find. Can you see the green stink bug (Chinavia hilaris) in this picture?
Green stink bug, Schenley Park, 29 Aug 2021 (photo by Kate St. John)
Yellow nutsedge, Schenley Park at Panther Hollow Lake, 29 Aug 2021 (photo by Kate St. John)
Our Best Bird was a lucky find. As we stood next to Panther Hollow Lake a peregrine falcon zoomed overhead, went into a stoop, and disappeared beyond Phipps Conservatory on his way to the Cathedral of Learning.
What is growing in the Pitt peregrine nestbox? (photo from the National Aviary snapshot camera at Univ of Pittsburgh)
29 August 2021
Something big and green is growing in the Pitt peregrines’ nestbox. What is it?
It first appeared as a small green smudge in late July. You can barely see it in this photo of Morela.
By 2 August the smudge matched the green perch. Ecco ignored it.
By 27 August it was hard to ignore. Ecco gave it more space.
The leaves remind me of black locust but trees usually don’t have a growth spurt in late summer. Weeds do.
It’s probably a weed. Can you identify it?
Meanwhile, don’t worry that the weed will be a lasting problem. We plan to remove it during annual nestbox maintenance this winter. Even if we didn’t it won’t interrupt nesting. Young peregrines are fine with weeds as shown in this 5 June 2010 snapshot from the Gulf Tower.
Click here and scroll to the bottom for an up-to-date look at the Pitt snapshot camera. What do you think it is? Is it wild senna?
(photos from the National Aviary falconcams at Univ of Pittsburgh in 2021 and Gulf Tower in 2010)
If you’re looking for a sign of the End Times, here’s one: Las Vegas, the city where seemingly anything and everything is condoned, has made grass — the ornamental kind — illegal.
Much of the West is experiencing the worst drought in decades, a “megadrought” that has kindled early wildfires and severe water shortages. … Enter aridification, exit grass. Gov. Steve Sisolak of Nevada just signed into law bill AB356, which requires the removal of all “nonfunctional turf” from the Las Vegas Valley by the year 2027.
The law was prompted by a crisis in June when Lake Mead, which supplies 90% of the Las Vegas Valley’s water, fell to the critically low point that triggers federally mandated water cuts. (See photos here.) Nevada knew it was coming and was ready with an easy way to save water — they banned non-functional grass.
In Pittsburgh where it rains regularly and sometimes too much we don’t have the term “non-functional grass,” but like the rest of America we have plenty of grass that no one walks on in office parks, street medians, parking lots, and even front yards. For example, here is the ultimate in non-functional grass (not in Pittsburgh; photo from Wikimedia Commons).
In Las Vegas all turf has to be irrigated and 31% of it is non functional. Golf courses, parks and single-family backyards are allowed because their grass is used. The big green swatch, below, will be irrigated. Even so, the non-functional turf ban will save 10% of the water supply.
So what will fill the gaps when the grass is gone?
Many places in Las Vegas have already solved the problem with xeric (desert) landscaping or “xeriscaping.” Again, these photos are 7 to 15 years old so the sites may look different now.
In Pittsburgh we have so much water that we never think about useless grass. Sometimes we irrigate it. Sometimes the sprinklers run in the rain! Bob Donnan has tips for watering in southwestern Pennsylvania to avoid fungus in your grass or garden.
Meanwhile, for those of us who hate to cut, weed, and fertilize grass in the rainy eastern U.S. a ban on non-functional grass would a blessing in disguise.
Wingstem in bloom shows double-looped pistils, 1 August 2021 (photo by Kate St. John)
7 August 2021
When wingstem (Verbesina alternifolia) blooms in August, its mop-like flowers reach as high as 8 feet tall. Wingstem often grows in clumps because it spreads by seeds and rhizomes. From a distance it looks ragged (below) but its double-looped pistils and insect pollinators (at top) are worth a closer look.
The flower disc resembles a pin cushion topped with brown anthers and yellow double-loop pistils. So far I have not found a floret whose anthers and pistils are protruding simultaneously, but I’ll have to look again.
Wingstem pistils and anthers on central disc flowers (photo by Kate St. John)
The disc florets are so deep that long-tongued insects such as bees, wasps and butterflies sip the nectar.
Wingstem is attractive to bees and other long-tongued insects (photo by Kate St. John)
Aphids feasting on wingstem stems (photo by Kate St. John)
Wingstem is easy to find in southwestern Pennsylvania because its leaves are bitter — deer don’t eat it. There are lots of opportunities this month to give wingstem a closer look.
Philadelphia fleabane, 17 May 2021 (photo by Kate St. John)
5 August 2021
Fleabane has a daily exercise regimen that responds to light.
Daisy fleabane, 30 June 2021 (photo by Kate St. John)
At sunset Philadelphia fleabane (Erigeron philadelphicus) and daisy fleabane (Erigeron annuus) close their ray petals and bow their heads. In the morning they raise their heads and open their petals, ready for insect pollination.
The process is called nyctinasty and is controlled by their circadian clocks.
Daisy fleabane opening in the morning (photo by Kate St. John)
Learn more about their exercise program and how to identify daisy and Philadelphia fleabane in this vintage article: The Bane of Fleas.
