Category Archives: Schenley Park

There’s Something In The Air

As I’ve snapped photographs of bark for my winter tree identification series, I’ve had no trouble finding clean, lichen-free trees in Schenley Park.  It turns out the lack of lichens is bad news for our air quality.

Lichens are two organisms that operate as one, a symbiotic partnership of a fungus with a green or blue-green algae (sometimes all three).  The algae’s photosynthesis feeds the fungus.  The fungus gathers and retains water and nutrients and protects the algae.

This amazing combination allows lichens to thrive in some of the harshest habitats on earth but they’re sensitive to air pollution.  The ones that grow on trees are epiphytes, totally dependent on the surrounding air and precipitation for their nutrition.  Ultimately their tissues absorb elements in concentrations that mimic what’s in the air.

We’ve known for a long time that there’s a correlation between the absence of lichens and poor air quality.  Back in 1866, the Finnish botanist William Nylander showed that lichens were present in the Luxembourg Gardens that had disappeared from the polluted sections of Paris, France.  Sadly, air pollution increased in Paris and within 30 years the Luxembourg Gardens’ lichens had disappeared as well.

Lichens are used in air quality studies today because they are widespread, accurate indicators and far less expensive than man-made monitors.  You don’t have to be an expert to participate.  In the 1960’s schoolchildren in Great Britain gathered data in a nationwide lichen-based air quality study that produced the “Mucky Air” map.  Here’s a list of a few more recent lichen studies:

Even if you can’t identify lichens you can make a rough guess of the local air quality by the types of lichens you see.  Basically, “the further it stands out from the tree, the cleaner the air.”  Crusty lichens (crustose) are the hardiest because they have the least surface area, leafy (foliose) lichens are in the middle, shrubby (fruticose) lichens are the most sensitive.  Hypogymnia physodes, a foliose lichen pictured above, is often used as an indicator species because it’s widely distributed and it “stands up.”  I’ve seen lichens like this in Maine but not in Pittsburgh.

Lichens are especially sensitive to sulfur dioxide (SO2).  So are people.  In Pennsylvania most of our SO2 is produced by coal-burning power plants and coking facilities.   High SO2 causes respiratory distress and triggers asthma so it’s been regulated since the Clean Air Act of 1970.  Lichens have rebounded in many areas of the U.S. since then.

In June 2010 EPA issued tighter 1-hour SO2 standards (75 ppb, measured hourly) to protect public health from high short term exposures ranging from 5 minutes to 24 hours.  Because we’ve been measuring SO2 for so long, we already know that the Pennsylvania counties of Allegheny, Beaver, Indiana and Warren have exceeded the new SO2 standard.  Coal-burning facilities in these counties will have to control their SO2 emissions even further.  As they do, we’ll all breathe a little easier.

And we’ll have more lichens in the future.

(photo in the public domain from Wikimedia Commons. Click on the photo to see the original.)

First Hard Frost


On Friday we had the winter’s first hard frost in the city.

I say this based on my observation of the plants in Schenley Park.  Prior to December 1 we’d had some lightly frosty mornings and one big snowfall in late October, but no frost so hard that the plants broke under it.  Some non-native species continued to bloom.

On Friday the plants broke.  On Saturday the frost peristed until the sun turned it into swirling steam.

Winter is officially here.

(photo by tracy from Wikimedia Commons)

 

Winter Trees: White Ash


Here’s a tree that will soon disappear from western Pennsylvania, a victim of the emerald ash borers that arrived here in 2007.

White ash (Fraxinus americana) is easily identified by its twig with the chocolate-brown bud.  The twig is stout, the leaf buds are opposite each other, the leaf scar is a horseshoe shape under each leaf bud, and all the buds are chocolate brown.   (Click here for definitions of twig anatomy.)

It’s easy to find these buds in our area.  There are many white ash seedlings now because the trees have put out a lot of seed while they’re under attack.

Opposite leaf buds are a good marker for the ash because most trees have alternate leaves.  The main species with opposites are maples, ashes, buckeyes and dogwoods.  I learned to remember opposite leaves with the acronym MAB DOG (Maple, Ash, Buckeye and Dogwood).

White ash bark is distinctive too.  Its deeply ridged and the ridges join to form long diamond shapes as shown below.

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Unfortunately, larvae of the emerald ash borer kill the tree by tunneling under the bark and damaging the phloem and xylum.  Often this causes the ridges to slowly separate from the bark.  Woodpeckers hear the larvae (amazing!) and chip away at the ridges to get at the bugs.  The result is that a dying tree has pale patches where the ridges fell off.  Infected trees try to survive by sending out sprouts near the ground.  You can see both effects on the trunk below.

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If you examine the chipped bark closely you may find the D-shaped exit hole of the emerald ash borer.  (Thanks to Dianne Machesney for this photo.).

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Learn the white ash now.  Sadly, it won’t be with us much longer.

(photos by Kate St. John, except for the one noted by Dianne Machesney)

Winter Trees: Hackberry

Today is the first entry in this winter’s Wednesday tree series.

Though I mentioned we would identify trees by their twigs I can’t resist starting the series with a tree that’s really easy to identify by its bark.

This is the Common Hackberry (Celtis occidentalis), a member of the Hemp family.  It produces small berries that ripen in autumn.  Some berries fall to the ground, others persist on the tree into the winter and provide a good food source for birds.

For me the easiest way to identify young hackberry trees is by their bark.  (Bark is at eye level!)

Hackberry bark looks as if someone glued lumpy pie-crust ridges onto the originally smooth gray surface.  You can see these odd ridges in the photo above.

 

A second very distinctive trait is the witch’s broom, easy to see when the leaves are off the trees.  Not all hackberries have these bundles of malformed twigs but when you see them in combination with the lumpy bark you can be sure you’ve found a hackberry.

Here’s a close-up of a witch’s broom.  Not only do the twigs clump at one spot but there are woody lumps at their base.

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As the trees mature the pie-crust lumps grow farther apart and sometimes look as if they’ll peel off the trunk.

Hackberries are easy to find in Schenley Park, especially near the Greenfield Bridge.

(three photos by Kate St. John.  Photo labeled UGA5188076 is by Whitney Cranshaw, Colorado State University from Bugwood.org )

Winter Trees on Wednesdays

On my walks through Schenley Park I’ve started to notice the trees again.  Not that they’ve been missing — far from it! — but ever since the songbirds arrived last spring the trees were mere bird accessories, places for birds to find food, nest and perch.

Now the migratory songbirds have left and the deciduous trees have gone through a great transformation.  They’ve dropped their leaves and seeds and stripped down to trunks and twigs.  They’re easier to see and they’re easier to identify.

Back in the 1990’s I took a class on winter tree identification at Chatham University’s Rachel Carson Institute where I learned that twigs and bark tell you almost all you need to know to identify a species.  In class we used the booklet pictured above, the Winter Tree Finder by May Thielgard Watts and Tom Watts.   It’s easy to carry and contains a step by step key for identifying twigs, much like Newcombs Wildflower Guide does for flowers.

In late October when I noticed the trees again, I got excited and took my Winter Tree Finder to Schenley Park.  Soon I began taking pictures of bark and twigs.  It didn’t take long before I’d dreamed up a Wednesday series on Winter Trees.

Today is the first entry but it’s just an introduction.  Before I start showing you the trees next week you may want to do two things:

  1. First,  familiarize yourself with the anatomy of a twig (shown below).  I’ll be using the terms highlighted on this illustration from Clemson University.  Click on the twig picture to read the definitions and learn more.
  2. Second, you may want to get your hands on the Winter Tree Finder so you can explore for yourself.  (You can buy it on Amazon by clicking on the book cover above.)

Next Wednesday I’ll show you the first tree in the series, all of which grow in southwestern Pennsylvania.  I know they do because I found all of them in Schenley Park.

(Cover of Winter Tree Finder from Amazon.com.  Image of twig anatomy linked from Clemson University’s Familiar Trees of South Carolina)

What Birds At This Time Of Year?


Now that summer’s birds are gone, what can we expect to see in southwestern Pennsylvania at this time of year?

November isn’t as boring as you might think.

  • On lakes and rivers you’ll find ducks, cormorants, loons, Canada geese, and sometimes tundra swans.
  • In the woods:
    • The owls have more time to hunt and hoot during November’s longer nights.  Listen for great-horned owls and eastern screech-owls in the woods and suburbs.  I’ve heard a barred owl on my walk home through Schenley Park.  He’s unusual in the city.
    • With the leaves off the trees, the woodpeckers are visible as they hammer the ash trees infested with emerald ash borer.  Migrating yellow-bellied sapsuckers will pause to drill for sap.
    • The golden-crowned kinglets are back.
  • At the bird feeders our resident cardinals, chickadees, titmice and nuthatches are joined by a wide selection of seed eaters including white-throated sparrows, fox sparrows, American tree sparrows, and dark-eyed juncos.
  • Overhead:
    • At dusk watch for flocks of robins, starlings and crows gathering to roost.
    • Best of all, November’s the month to see V’s of migrating tundra swans on their way to the Chesapeake and eastern North Carolina.  They call “woo, woo, woo” as they fly.  You’ll even hear them at night.

Keep looking up.

(photo of a barred owl by Marge Van Tassel)

A Bat on Halloween

Little Brown Bat clinging to an oak in Schenley Park on Halloween, 2011 (photo by Kate St. John)

1 November 2011

While walking home in the rain last night I saw a brown lump on an oak tree in Schenley Park.

Only a foot off the ground and smaller than the palm of my hand I thought it was a mushroom … until I got close.

It was a little brown bat and he was sleeping.

Without any experience in identifying bats my guess is that he was the most common bat in Pennsylvania, quite literally a “little brown bat,” Myotis lucifugus, whose scientific name means “mouse-ear light-fleeing.”

I didn’t want to wake him so I held my umbrella over my cell phone and took his picture from three feet away.

Even in this distant photo you can see his folded wing on the right and his tiny brown ears pointing down.  Remember, he’s upside down so his ears are at the bottom.  Click here to see what this species looks like up close.

Since bats eat flying insects their food supply disappears during Pennsylvania winters so they must hibernate or migrate to survive.  This little guy has spent the last few months fattening up and mating in preparation for hibernation.  Soon he will adjourn to a damp cave or abandoned mine shaft to hibernate with his fellows in a place that stays above freezing.

Interestingly, if this one is female she will store the male’s sperm in her uterus all winter, fertilize one egg in the spring and give birth to a single baby in late May or early June.

But that’s a long way down the road.  Halloween is over.  It’s time to find a cave.

I don’t expect to see this bat on the oak tree today.  But I will check.

(photo by Kate St. John)

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UPDATE Nov 1:  Alas! The bat was there this morning.  He’s dead, though I didn’t touch him to make sure.  Theory: He’s perched right next to a busy road.  Perhaps he was hit by a car and still mobile enough to roost but too injured to live.  Alas!

UPDATE Nov 2:  I saw a bat flying in Schenley Park this evening.  Maybe my bat still lives!

UPDATE Nov 4: I saw a bat flying in Greenfield tonight at dusk. I never noticed them this late before.

Witchy Things

Witches hat mushroom (Hygrophorus conicus) (photo by Dave Powell, USDA Forest Service, from Bugwood.org)

31 October 2011

Happy Halloween!   Here’s a selection of witchy things to celebrate the day.

Witches hat mushroom (Hygrophorus conicus), shown above, is common in the forest at this time of year..

Witch-hazel trees are blooming now in Schenley Park.

Witch-hazel blooming in Schenley Park (photo by Kate St. John)
Witch-hazel blooming (photo by Kate St. John)

The gelatinous fruiting body of Witches Butter fungus (Tremella mesenterica) feels greasy or slimy when damp.  Eeeewwwww!

Witches butter fungus (photo by Gerald Holmes, Valent USA Corporation, Bugwood.org)

Witches brooms in hackberry trees are ugly but don’t kill the tree.  They’re so common in hackberries that I use them as a clue to identify the tree in winter.

 (photo by Whitney Cranshaw, Colorado State University, Bugwood.org)

(photo credits embedded above)

Stinkbomb Tree

Fruit of ginkgo tree (photo from Wikimedia Commons)

While perusing the Sibley Guide to Trees (which I quote below) I ran across an amazing name for ginkgos:  Stinkbomb Tree.

The name is new to me but I know how they got it.  In autumn the ginkgo’s fleshy, ripe fruit falls from the female trees and is easily crushed underfoot.  If you step on it you’re sorry.  It’s slippery and smells like vomit.

Ginkgo trees (Ginkgo biloba) are living fossils from the Triassic, the only plant in their division to survive into the modern age.  Though classified as trees, ginkgos have a lot in common with ferns.  Their fan-shaped leaves have a fern-like vein system.  Each tree is either male or female and the seeds are “fertilized by motile sperm as in cycads, ferns, mosses and algae.”

There are probably no wild ginkgos left on earth but they survived and re-naturalized in Asia because humans cultivated them for their religious and medicinal significance, especially in China.

Ginkgos cope well with pollution and confined root systems so they’re often planted in cities.   How hardy are they?  Six ginkgo trees were the only living things to survive within a 1-2 km radius of the 1945 Hiroshima atomic blast.

Of course that wasn’t known when they were chosen to beautify Pittsburgh during our Smoky City days.  Both male and female trees were planted in our city parks in the late 1800s.  Nowadays female ginkgos are often banned because of their “stinkbombs” but we have some on Schenley Drive near Phipps Conservatory and on Highland Drive near Highland Park.

Very soon our ginkgos will turn a beautiful bright yellow and their leaves will fall all at once.  If you time it right, you can stand below a yellow ginkgo on a windless day and the leaves will drop around you like snow.   But watch where you step…

(photo by Aomorikuma via Wikimedia Commons, GNU Free license. Click on the caption to see the original.)

October Scenes from Schenley Park


The weather was beautiful last Saturday when I took these pictures in Schenley Park.  Even my little cell phone camera was able to capture the colors.  Here are buckeye leaves turning yellow at eye level.

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Blue sky peeks through the trees.

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Golden leaves and green.  The green leaves are porcelainberry.

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The trails were flooded with light.

(photos by Kate St. John)