This may look like an aspen forest but it’s a single tree, 14,000 years old … maybe 80,000 years. The age is in dispute.
At the Botanical Society of Western Pennsylvania we were wowed by the news that this stand of quaking aspen, covering 106 acres near Utah’s Fish Lake, is a single “tree.” All the trunks are shoots from a single clonal root.
Discovered by Burton V. Barnes in 1968 and nicknamed The Trembling Giant, Barnes used morphological clues to determine this Populus tremuloides was from one clonal root. In the 1990s Michael Grant studied it further and named it Pando. DNA proves it to be one plant hosting 40,000 stems and weighing 13.2 million pounds.
Quaking aspen is excellent at regenerating from its root system, coming back stronger than ever with more shoots from the same root after it’s cut or burned. Wildfire and low rainfall are probably why this huge aspen is doing so well in Utah.
Pando’s given age on the NPS website is 80,000 years old but there are many theories. No one knows for sure.
p.s. If you want to visit Pando in central Utah, here’s where it is –> Pando tree location.
(photo in the public domain via Wikimedia Commons. Click on the image to see the original)
Though shaped like a green rose this knob is not a flower. It’s a goldenrod bunch gall.
A search at BugGuide.net(*) indicates:
The gall was made by a midge, Rhopalomyia solidaginis, that lays its egg at the tip of the goldenrod stem. “Its larva secretes a chemical that prevents the goldenrod stem from growing although it continues to produce leaves, thus a shortened bunch of leaves is formed.”(*)
The resulting rosette provides shelter for many insects as well as the midge.
This fall I’ve seen many bunch galls in goldenrod fields. This one was at Wingfield Pines in southern Allegheny County.
Click here to read more about the midge at BugGuide.net.
Stinging nettle captured my imagination at the age of seven.
In Now We Are Six, Christopher Robin offers the Little Black Hen three things if she’ll lay him an egg for Easter Day. Of the three, the only thing she cares to see is the nettle-place on his leg which she touches gently with her wing. “Nettles don’t hurt if you count to ten.” This left a lasting impression on me.
For decades I thought nettles were foreign, exotic and only grew in England so I was awed when shown a huge patch in Pennsylvania. It was spring. The patch smelled like cat pee. I kept a wide berth and vowed to always wear long pants while hiking (which I do to this day).
The nettle Christopher Robin encountered was Urtica dioica. Originally native to Europe, Asia, and northern Africa it was introduced here plus we have a similar native — wood nettle (Laportea canadensis).
Both species are one to six feet tall and coated with hollow stinging hairs loaded with histamines and painful chemicals. A gentle brush against the plant causes the hairs to detach and become needles in your skin. The sting is memorable. For those desperate to hold the plant a firm grasp flattens the hairs so that fewer penetrate. This is counter-intuitive and not for the faint of heart.
At very close quarters nettles look bristly. The close-up above is of the crown at the top of wood nettle.
Wood nettle’s stinging crown (photo by Kate St. John)
Even the tiny leaf-like structures have stinging hairs.
Closeup of wood nettle crown (photo by Kate St. John)
Because of my cautionary introduction to nettles, it took me a long time to believe the plant is good to eat and has a wide variety of medicinal uses. I was skeptical about the Nettle Soup recipe in my Joy of Cooking cookbook. “Using rubber gloves to protect you from the stinging nettles, remove the central stem from 1 Quart young nettle tops.” (Sure! I’m going to eat that??) But it’s true. Nettles are eaten around the world. Young leaves are best. Click these links for food and medicinal uses.
Some people take nettle eating to an extreme. There’s an annual World Nettle Eating Championship in Dorset England which began on a dare in 1986. Beer is involved.
In September stinging nettles still have a frizz of whitish flowers dangling from their stems — or perhaps seeds, I did not get close! — as seen in the whole-plant photo below. I’ve circled the crown area of the close-ups in red.
Wood nettle with crown circled in red (photo by Kate St. John)
So now you know what it looks like … in case you want to try. 😉
When I snapped this photo I was so intent on the flower that I forgot to examine the leaves.
New England (Aster novae angliae) and New York (Aster novi belgii) asters are so similar that the deciding field mark is their hairy or smooth clasping leaves. My photo doesn’t show that.
However, the flower is in Maine at Acadia National Park (and so am I) so it’s safe to say, “In New England. An aster.”
It sounds really exotic to say that there are orchids at Moraine State Park, but yes there are. Last weekend Dianne and Bob Machesney found late coralroot (Corallorhiza odontorhiza) including this very unusual pink one.
Late coralroot’s 1/4 inch flowers bloom from August to October so now’s the time to look for them. Unfortunately the plant is often hard to see because it’s only 4-7 inches tall and a brownish-purple color that matches the forest floor. But not this one. I have no idea why it’s pink but it’s certainly pretty. Click here to see what it looks like when it blooms in normal color.
Coralroots are very picky about habitat because they’re twice-dependent. They are saprophytes that get their nutrients from fungi which are getting their nutrients from dead and decomposing plant material. Coralroots are particular about the species of fungi they parasitize so you can’t find these orchids just anywhere. Your best bet may be to look where there are pine needles on the ground.
Thanks to Dianne for this unusual photo and her description of the plant. Now I know what to look for.
p.s. It should go without saying that you should not collect these plants. They are endangered in many northeastern states and in Florida.
(photo of unusual Late Coralroot by Dianne Machesney)
Swamp thistle (Cirsium muticum) is practically smooth. Its hollow 6-foot stem has no spines and its deeply cut leaves look pointy but aren’t very sharp. It is very beautiful with big purple flowers that attract bees, butterflies and hummingbird clearwing moths.
Compare this native biennial to other big thistles and this is the one you’ll prefer to touch. Pasture thistle (Cirsium pumilum) is more prickly though it smells very sweet. Field thistle (Cirsium discolor) and non-native Bull thistle (Cirsium vulgare) are so spiny they’re absolutely scary. Wear stout gloves!
The easiest way to identify Swamp thistle is by its bud which looks cob-webby with fine white hairs. Here’s a closeup.
Swamp thistle is native to eastern North America from Labrador to Louisiana (and Texas) where it grows in swamps, wet woods and thickets.
I photographed these two at Jennings Prairie in Butler County, Pennsylvania earlier this month.
Joe-Pye Weed is huge — 10 feet tall! — and stands out in any setting. Its small flowers are arranged in large dome-shaped clusters, 6 to 9 inches across, that give dramatic tops to these perennials.
Their size is amazing considering they achieve it in only four months. Click here for a view of the entire plant.
Two common species in our area, Sweet Joe-Pye (Eutrochium purpureum) and Spotted Joe-Pye (Eutrochium maculatum), are distinguished by the colors on their stems but they hybridize and mix it up.
So big and beautiful, I don’t care which one it is.
Yo, Joe!
(photo by Kate St. John, taken at Jennings Prairie, Butler County, Pennsylvania)
p.s. Read Marcia Bonta’s blog to find out why it’s called “Joe-Pye.”
p.p.s. The genus name only recently changed from Eupatorium to Eutrochium, another case where I prefer the old name.
