Day Tripping to Adams County

If you have ever spent time with me, you probably know that I love Adams County in southern Ohio. Adams County has some of the most fantastic and unique nature in the state of Ohio. Last week I traveled to Adams County with two fellow naturalists from Ohio University—Olivia Brooks and Alayna Tokash—in order to do some botanizing, herping, and birding.

Out of the several places we traveled to, the favorite was Lynx Prairie. Lynx Prairie is a public preserve that is owned by The Nature Conservancy, and is a location I've written about extensively on this blog. To get a general overview about the nature and history of this famous preserve, check out this link: Lynx Prairie Posts. Lynx Prairie is a system of 10 xeric short grass prairies that are of varying sizes. There is a whole host of interesting and rare species that call these "pocket prairies" home, and so I wanted to share a few of the highlights from my most recent trip!

I'll begin with this inconspicuous flower. This is Slender Ladies'-Tresses (Spiranthes lacera). The ladies'-tresses is a group of orchids with a white inflorescence that typically inhabit prairies or prairie-like habitats. There are 9 species that can be found in Ohio, with 3 of those species being state-listed. The Slender Ladies'-Tresses is one of the more common of the Spiranthes species in Ohio.

The ladies'-tresses can be a difficult group to identify down to species. To identify a ladies'-tresses, you should first see if the flowers are arranged in a single-spiral (such as the Slender Ladies'-Tresses), or a double spiral (like the Great Plains Ladies'-Tresses). After that, you have to carefully inspect the flowers. There are several single-spiral species that can be found in Adams County, but the flowers of each species differ slightly. The Slender Ladies'-Tresses has a characteristic green labellum (or lip), which can be seen above. If you want to read about some of the other species of ladies'-tresses that can be found in the prairies in Adams County, check out my previous post: Spiranthes Orchids at Blue Jay Barrens.

The most exciting plant find of the day—and a lifer for yours truly—was the unassuming succulent pictured above. This is False Aloe (Manfreda virginica). Although common in the southern US, False Aloe is extremely rare in Ohio, where it can currently only be found in Adams and Highland Counties. False Aloe has an extremely interesting history in this part of the state. False Aloe thrives in dry prairie openings, which is currently a rare habitat in Ohio. But between 8,000 and 4,000 years ago, the world entered a very warm period called the Hypsithermal. Ohio became very dry and hot, resulting in the prairies of the west extending into Ohio. False Aloe—a plant of the south-central part of the United States—is thought to have invaded northward into these new Ohio prairies during this time, where it thrived. 

When this hot, dry period ended around 4,000 years ago, the forests began to recolonize Ohio. False Aloe found itself suddenly restricted to the dry limestone barrens of southwest Ohio, which were already thousands of years old. Originally kept open during the last ice age by megafauna like the Mastodon, these barrens were now being kept open as a result of fires set by the early Native Americans in the region. False Aloe became the dominant plant in some of these limestone barrens, and one European settler from the early 1800's even made reference to an "agave desert" in the Adams County region. Once the European settlers killed and pushed the Native Americans out of this region, the human-set fires in the prairies and forests of this region ceased and became a thing of the past.

As the 1900's approached, the people living in this region allowed the forest—which had been all but clearcut in the mid 1800's—to come back. The remaining limestone barrens of Adams County that had not been developed or otherwise destroyed began experiencing the effects of natural succession. Red Cedars and Tuliptrees—which had previously been kept at bay by the fires the Native Americans had set for thousands of years—began pushing their way into the barrens. As many of these barrens became forested, the False Aloe found itself dying out in Ohio. Nowadays this species is found in only a few of the protected barrens which are managed with prescribed burns. Sadly, a recent study found that many of the remaining populations of False Aloe in Adams County are reproductively  isolated and inbred. This will only lead to a further decrease in numbers over the next century, as the seeds of inbred False Aloe tend not to thrive. At its current state, the future of the False Aloe in Ohio seems rather grim...

Moving aside from the doom and gloom to something more upbeat, here is a recently-hatched Eastern Fence Lizard (Sceloporus undulatus) that Alayna found hiding under a loose rock. Learning that Ohio has lizards may come as a surprise to many, but Ohio is indeed home to 5 species (Eastern Fence Lizard, Common Five-Lined Skink, Broad-Headed Skink, Little Brown Skink, and the non-native Common Wall Lizard). The Eastern Fence Lizard belongs to the genus Sceloporus, which are collectively known as the "spiny lizards." The Eastern Fence Lizard is the only spiny lizard that can be found in Ohio, where it inhabits the southern and southeastern portions of the state.

Alayna Tokash (Master's student in Ecology and Evolutionary Biology at Ohio University) studies the tiny Eastern Fence Lizard as it perches on Olivia Brooks's (Undergraduate majoring in Wildlife and Conservation Biology at Ohio University) thumb.

Eastern Fence Lizards begin mating as early as late April here in Ohio, and the first round of eggs begin hatching in June. The individual we found probably hatched out in either June or July. Although Eastern Fence Lizards can live 3-4+ years, most don't make it past their first year due to depredation or other such life-ending circumstances. Hopefully this individual makes it past the initial first year, as chances of survivorship greatly increases in year two. If you want to see what a grown-up Eastern Fence Lizard looks like, take a peek back at my previous "Eastern Fence Lizards" post.

Only an hour later, I came across another baby lizard that was hanging out in a patch of forest between two of the pocket prairies. This is a recently-hatched Common Five-Lined Skink (Plestiodon fasciatus). The Five-Lined Skink is the most widespread and common lizard in Ohio, but isn't commonly seen due to its secretive nature. Five-Lined Skinks can be incredibly skittish, and they will often dart up a tree, under a log, or under the leaf litter upon seeing a human or other potential threat approach. The Five-Lined Skink, along with most other species of lizards, has another line of defense in addition to great evasion skills. The Five-Lined Skink is able to detach its tail in times of danger. If a predator gets too close, or if a predator grabs onto the skink's tail, the skink is able to willingly detach its tail at one of the several breakage points along the tail. 

When the tail becomes detached, it begins to wildly thrash about, which—if all goes according to plan—will surprise and distract the predator, giving enough time for the skink to run away. The Five-Lined Skink that I caught had already used this defense earlier in the summer, as can be told by the healing stub of a tail. Amazingly, Five-Lined Skinks, and other tail-dropping lizards, are able to regrow their tail over time. The catch: they aren't able to regrow the bones in the tail, and are only able to grow a rod of cartilage that takes the place of the bones.

Lynx Prairie is a great location for Five-Lined Skinks. The Five-Lined Skink exploits edge habitats, which are areas where two different types of habitats meet. They prefer edge habitats in which a forest meets some sort of disturbed open habitat, especially if such an area offers plenty of rock and log objects to bask on and to hide underneath. There are copious amounts of edge habitat at Lynx Prairie, offering plenty of appropriate areas for Five-Lined Skinks to inhabit.

One of the most unexpected finds at Lynx occurred when Alayna flipped a small piece of wood. Underneath this tiny piece of wood were two Long-Tailed Salamanders (Eurycea longicauda). The Long-Tailed Salamander was something of a nemesis species of mine for the longest time. They can be found throughout Ohio, except for the northwest quarter of the state. They can be relatively common in near streams in moist forests, but they tend to hide pretty well under rocks and logs, and in crevices in the ground. Despite looking for them for several years, the Long-Tailed Salamander evaded me—until this year, that is. This summer I've seen several Long-Tailed Salamanders, with these being number 3 and 4. As their name implies, the Long-Tailed Salamander has an abnormally long tail when compared to other Plethodontid (lungless) salamanders. In fact, a Long-Tailed Salamander's tail makes up approximately ~60% of its entire body length.

Visiting Lynx Prairie always makes for a fantastic day. However, this trip decided to give me two rather unpleasant surprises. Somehow while in the cedar barrens, I managed to pick up dozens and dozens of tick nymphs. In fact, I ended up pulling 87 tick nymphs off my body that day, and also got 40+ chigger bites as well. I guess that's the price you have to pay to see neat things?

Some Early Blooms

It's that wonderful time of year again; more and more wildflowers are blooming! The spring wildflower season begins in Ohio with the blooming of Skunk Cabbage in February, and slowly picks up speed until the end of March. With the arrival of April, the spring-blooming wildflowers prepare to reach a climax, with dozens of species in bloom at the same time. April is almost here, so I decided to head out and see what species were already blooming around Athens in southeastern Ohio.

I'll begin with these familiar flowers. This rather striking plant is White Trout Lily, Erythronium albidum. It's a wide-ranging species here in Ohio, only absent in heavily agricultural or urbanized counties. The White Trout Lily is best at home in nutrient-rich forests, in rather moist or mesic soils. The individuals pictured above, for example, were living alongside a small stream in a stereotypical Allegheny Plateau ravine. The name "trout lily," which is part of the common name for several other Erythronium spp. flowers, is due to the mottled leaves. These mottled leaves resemble the coloration of the Brook Trout (compare with this photo).

The nodding flowers of the White Trout Lily are some of my favorite when it comes to the spring bloomers. However, they aren't the only species with a nodding flower like this. Several other species in the Lily family (Liliaceae) found here in Ohio have similarly nodding flowers, including the Yellow Trout Lily, Canada Lily, and Michigan Lily.

Unlike most of the flowers I'll be covering in this post which bloom in scattered patches along the forest floor, this species is very different. This is Spring Beauty, Claytonia virginica. In good areas, thousands of these will dot the forest floor. Sometimes they even make it into cities, where they dot lawns. The grasses around Ohio University's North Green, for example, live side by side with Spring Beauty come this time. Although Spring Beauty is incredibly common, the bottom one in the picture above is uncommon. Nearly all Spring Beauties are 5-petaled, like the one at the top. The bottom one, however, has 6 petals. Some sort of mutation is to blame, creating a flower that stands out among the hordes of others.

Next up is Bloodroot, Sanguinaria canadensis. It's still a bit early for this species, so most of the individuals I saw had just popped up and hadn't even fully unfurled their large basal leaf and flower. The strange common name for this species is due to a peculiar feature of its underground rhizome. If something cuts the rhizome, reddish-orange sap seeps from the wound. Early settlers thought it looked like this root was oozing blood, so they called the plant Bloodroot. The sap, however, is part of the Bloodoot's defense system. It's filled with toxic alkaloids, which brings up an important issue...

If you search for "Bloodroot" on the internet, you'll get tons of results talking about its supposed "medicinal" uses. However, as I just mentioned, the sap contains toxic alkaloids. This highlights a huge topic I could rant on and on about, but I'll only make a quick aside. So many of these "alternative medicines" people talk about and advocate for either do nothing, or actually harm you. For example, people say you should put Bloodroot sap on skin cancer, as it gets rid of the cancer. In reality, the specific alkaloid contained in the sap (Sanguinarine) disrupts your cells' sodium-potassium pump, which results in your cells dying. The dying of these cells creates a type of necrotic scab called an eschar. It's literally a scab of dead flesh. Depending on the amount of Bloodroot sap you apply to your skin, the result can be a dangerous disfiguring of whatever part of your body you applied it to. This is not healthy or beneficial to do at all.

This is just one example of the thousands and thousands of "alternative medicines" actually being downright dangerous for people, as their supposed medicinal properties are simply unfounded. To quote the comedian Tim Minchin, "You know what they call alternative medicine that works? Medicine."

Among all the primarily-white flowers that I saw while out stood a single bluish-purple flower. This is Wild Blue Phlox, Phlox divaricata. Ohio has several species of phlox, but this one can be identified by its hairy stem, narrow lance-like leaves, and a flower with the stamens and pistil not sticking out of the tube made by the fusion of the lower portions of the petals. This deep tube poses a problem to many potential pollinating insects. Only those insects with long tongues, such as butterflies and moths, can reach deep enough to hit the nectar and incidentally pick up the pollen.

And finally, I want to talk about a special flower. This is Snow Trillium, Trillium nivale. We have 8 species of trillium native to Ohio, with the most familiar being the Great White Trillium,
Trillium grandiflorum. Some of the other trillium species aren't as well known or widespread, and Snow Trillium is one such species. Aside from one random county in eastern Ohio, Snow Trillium is found scattered throughout southwestern Ohio. This range is not surprising, as Snow Trillium loves limestone-based soils, and southwestern Ohio has many appropriate areas. Even so, the presence of appropriate habitat does not mean Snow Trillium will be present; the Ohio populations are scattered and often in low numbers (aside from a few really good populations).

I've wanted to see Snow Trillium for several years now, but I never had the time nor means to travel to one of the populations. Until this year, at least. I learned of a population in Adams County, and on a free day during my spring break I drove the 1.5 hours from Athens to Adams County with the goal of finally seeing some Snow Trillium in bloom. It was an easy enough goal, as I saw my lifer Snow Trillium even before stepping onto the trail! And I have to say I was thoroughly surprised; I had read that Snow Trillium is a small flower, but I had no idea just how small they were. They are downright minuscule. Just to give you an idea, I put my 2-inch wide lens cap next to some for a comparison. Really tiny, right?

You might be wondering why this species is called Snow Trillium. The name has to do with what time of year it blooms. Snow Trillium is an early bloomer, blooming in mid March here in Ohio. Oftentimes this is still early enough for it to snow, and the blooming Snow Trillium might find itself dotting a snowy landscape. The early settlers called this trillium species Snow Trillium as a result, to help separate it from the later blooming trillium species, which bloom after the winter snows end.

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Do you love spring wildflowers? Do you live in Ohio? Do you want to keep up to date with what species are blooming where in the state? If so, you're in luck! Every spring, ODNR has a bloom tracker which gets updated weekly. This tracker tells you what species are blooming, and where they are currently blooming. To see the weekly reports, just click on this link!

Six Orchids from Southern Ohio

Last weekend I had the pleasure of being one of the trip leaders for the Ohio Ornithological Society's "Warblers and Wildflowers" event. This is an annual weekend foray that takes places in the rolling hills of Shawnee State Forest and nearby areas. My group spent Saturday morning in Shawnee SF, and the rest of the day birding around next door Adams County. I ended up observing 66 species of birds on Saturday, a new daily high! Sunday was a free-for-all, and I was lucky enough to be able to tag along with two amazing botanists, Andrew Gibson (blogger at The Buckeye Botanist) and Tanner Morris (you can view Tanner's photography page right here), as they ventured through some select sites in Scioto and Adams Counties. We saw a lot of amazing plants, but this post is over the orchids we saw in bloom.

First, some background on orchids. Although the word "orchid" conjures up images of tropical forests, Ohio does indeed have an array of native orchids. There are 46 species of native orchid (family Orchidaceae) which have been recorded in Ohio. Of these 46, 4 are sadly extirpated (locally extinct in Ohio). Of the remaining 42, 22 are state listed as either potentially threatened, threatened, or endangered (and 2 of those 22 are also federally listed). The vast majority of these orchids require a narrow set of ecological characteristics to live, with some being much more picky than others. This makes orchids generally uncommon and oftentimes hard to find in Ohio, depending on the species. (For a complete checklist of Ohio orchid species and hybrids, check out this link)

The orchid blitz was mainly Sunday, but it began Saturday night. We took a short drive to one of the many gravel roads that criss-cross the massive expanse that is Shawnee State Forest. Just off the side of the road were these two unassuming flowers. This is Large Whorled Pogonia, Isotria verticillata. Large Whorled Pogonia is an orchid of the forest. More specifically, this species prefers acidic soils of upland forests and the likes. It's relatively widespread across the Allegheny Plateau region of eastern Ohio, but it's an easily missed flower. 

Large Whorled Pogonia in bloom.

Many of the orchids in Ohio are not overly showy, and the Large Whorled Pogonia falls into that category. It would be an incredibly easy flower to miss if you weren't looking. Although the Large Whorled Pogonia is relatively common (albeit hard to see) in eastern Ohio, it's close cousin the Small Whorled Pogonia, Isotria medeoloides, is a whole other story. The Small Whorled Pogonia is a federally listed plant, and it is incredibly rare in Ohio. In fact, it's only been recorded in 2 counties, and both of those have been in single locations. The first individual was recorded in Shawnee State Forest back in 1985, only a few miles from where the photo above was taken. It has since not been relocated. The second record was from a location in Hocking County in 1998, where a single fruiting individual and several vegetative stems were discovered. Sadly those individuals haven't been seen in several years, but this species is known to lie dormant. There is a chance that it will once again sprout forth. There is also a chance the Small Whorled Pogonia is out there somewhere else in Ohio, hiding among other plants, either overlooked or in places where no botantically-minded person has ventured...

On Sunday we once again ventured down a lonely road in Shawnee State Forest. Ovenbirds, Worm-Eating Warblers, and Wood Thrushes greeted us with song as we arrived at the first location. However, so did rain. Cue me awkwardly trying to protect my not-weather-sealed camera from the rain while still trying to take photos. Luckily these Pink Lady's Slippers, Cypripedium acaule, did not pay a lick of attention to the rain. Pink Lady's Slipper is a species of orchid in the Cypripedium genus, whose members are called the "lady's slippers" due to the distinctive shape of their flower.

The Pink Lady's Slipper is one of the more common of the lady slipper's here in Ohio. The Yellow Lady's Slipper, which we will get to in a bit, has been recorded in more counties than the Pink, but the populations are much more scattered and tend to be not as abundant in individuals. The Pink Lady's Slipper can be found in the northeastern part of Ohio (the glaciated Allegheny Plateau) and a few scattered counties in the southeastern half of the state. They prefer dryer, acidic oak and pine forests, such as the ridgetops of Shawnee SF with a sandstone bedrock.

Just a few dozen feet away was a very interesting Pink Lady's Slipper that wasn't so pink. This is a white variation individual of the Pink Lady's Slipper. It's a pretty rare phenotype for this species, and it was a pleasure to see. This isn't the first white-variant flower I've seen before; a few years ago I found a white-variant individual of Scaly Blazingstar. You can see a photo of that individual at this link.

Close by to the Pink Lady's Slippers were a few individuals of the Large Yellow Lady's Slippers. The taxonomic naming seems to be a bit unsure. There are three thoughts. First, most would call this Cypripedium parviflorum, specifically Cypripedium parviflorum var. pubescens. Others would call this Cypripedium pubescens. A few would call this Cypripedium calceolus var. pubescens. This confusion all boils down to the never-ending conflict of what defines a species. In Europe there is Cypripedium calceolus, the Yellow Lady's Slipper. Originally many considered the yellow lady's slippers in North America to be a subspecies of the European C. calceolus. As genetic work was done, they found this probably wasn't the case, and the American ones were diverged enough to be considered their own species.

This led to the next issue; within North America there are 4 varieties (in essence the botanical version of a subspecies) recognized. Many botanists then decided to call the overall species Cypripedium parviflorum, and then designate the varieties as var. exiliens (found in Alaska), var. makasin (found in the northern part of the range), var. parviflorum (found in the southern part of the range), and var. pubescens (found throughout the range). These varieties all have different ranges, different habitat preferences, and different morphologies, and one could argue that these are different species, depending on what your idea of a species is (as there are a few dozen concepts). In fact, this resulted in some deciding to elevate Cypripedium parviflorum var. pubescens to its own species, Cypripedium pubescens. Yet at the same time, all of the American "varieties" are extremely closely related when it comes to their genetics. This leads to a big question: How much does genetics play a role in designating what a species is, and how much does the ecology of the various populations play a role?

Regardless how they are classified, they are an extremely awesome plant. The delicate yellow flower stands in stark contrast among the greens and browns of the understory. They are found across Ohio in about half the counties, but they aren't really "common" here, although they can be locally abundant in good areas. They prefer wetter areas than the Pink Lady's Slippers, and often can be found on forested hillsides.

Stepping away from the lady's slippers for a bit, let's go to this tiny plant. This is Showy Orchis, Galearis spectabilis. And yes, I spelled the common name correctly. It's not Showy Orchid, but Showy Orchis, as strange as that might seem. The name "Orchis" comes from the old genus this species was placed in, which was Orchis. However, they have since been removed and placed in the new genus Galearis, but the common name of Showy Orchis remains. Showy Orchis can essentially be found throughout the state. It prefers moderately moist (AKA mesic) forested habitats. Such habitats include the bottoms of ravines in southern Ohio. They are only a few inches tall and could be easily missed by the unobservant hiker, but a careful observer might catch the tiny white and purple flowers.

After awhile we left Scioto County and headed to next-door Adams County, which happens to be my favorite county in Ohio. I also absolutely love parasitic plants, and I was delighted when we stopped by an unassuming roadside with a population of Spring Coralroot, Corallorhiza wisteriana, in bloom. I've covered the related Crested Coralroot (you can read the post here), and it was great to see another species. Spring Coralroot is listed as a Potentially Threatened Species here in Ohio. They are a parasitic species which feeds off nutrients acquired by underground mycorrhizal fungi that is present throughout the soil. In fact, these plants spend most of their life underground, and they only send up a flower every so often when conditions are right. This lifestyle is also leading to their decline. Disturbances to the soil will often result in the destruction of mycorrhizal fungi in the affected area. Of course, if the food source for the Spring Coralroot is destroyed, the Spring Coralroot won't be able to feed and will subsequently starve.

The star of the day was the rare, state-endangered White Lady's Slipper, Cypripedium candidum. This is not just rare in Ohio; this species is rare across its entire range in the US. It's a species of calcareous soils, such as the dolomite-based soils of the Adams County cedar glades. It's only been recorded in 10 counties in Ohio, but only 4 of those counties have records after 1980. This vast reduction is due to the destruction of our calcareous (alkaline) prairies and fens. Sadly those habitats aren't exactly coming back, and even if they did, orchids are notoriously difficult (and sometimes impossible) to reintroduce into an area. I'll be making a longer post about this species in a few days, so stay tuned for more!

These orchids were only a sliver of the awesome plants I was able to see over the course of the weekend. Southern Ohio is a treasure-trove for botany lovers, and for nature-lovers in general. Thanks for reading!

Spiranthes Orchids at Blue Jay Barrens

Nearly a month ago, I had the pleasure of visiting Blue Jay Barrens. Some of you surely recognize that name. Blue Jay Barrens is a large tract of land in Adams County that's owned and managed by Steve Willson. If you've heard of this place, chances are you've read about it on Steve's wonderful blog entitled Blue Jay Barrens. If you haven't checked out his blog, I highly suggest you do. I've been meaning to make a post on some of the amazing things I saw there, but the past few weeks have been crazy for me. I've had to finish up my summer lab work, as well as move back in to Ohio University and deal with the insanity that is the start of a new semester. Anyway, I now have a little bit of time to write, so better late than never!

As I said before, Blue Jay Barrens is a privately owned tract of land that resides in the northern part of Adams County. I've been an avid reader of Steve's blog for a few years now, and he recently reached out to me and asked if I wanted a tour. The answer to a question like that is always yes. I came down on August 13th and Steve gave me a wonderful tour that lasted about 6 hours. He has just over 100 acres, and we saw only about half of it that day. The number of interesting plants and other goodies that I saw that day was simply astounding. Blue Jay Barrens lies in the incredible and unique Adams County, my personal favorite county in Ohio. Adams County is perhaps best known for its globally rare cedar glades (also called cedar barrens) that contain many dozens of rare plant species for Ohio. An example of an Adams County cedar barren is Lynx Prairie. Blue Jay Barrens is a little different though; before Steve bought it in 1985, it was actually farmland. Decades of farming and bad land use practices had eroded essentially all of the topsoil, leaving the land desolate. Slowly but surely, native plants began to come back and soil is slowly being replaced. Adams County, luckily, has many native plant species that can thrive on thin, rocky, and dry soils, most of which are prairie species. Seeds of these hardy species naturally made their way from neighboring areas and began to recolonize the area. Fast forward to the present and you have a beautiful prairie environment with Red Cedars (which are managed by Steve) that dot the landscape.

I was able to visit at a great time in the year. Several Spiranthes orchid species were in bloom, and Spiranthes also happens to be my absolute favorite genus of orchids. Lucky me! Spiranthes is a genus (the classification category right before species) of orchids that mainly calls open areas such as prairies home. There are 9 species that can be found in Ohio, with 3 of those species being state-listed as either Potentially Threatened or Threatened. They're generally small plants, with their white inflorescence (the flowering part of the plant) often being overlooked among the tall grasses they tend to grow in. To give you an idea, look at the photo above. There's a single Spiranthes individual growing on the right side. The good news is, once you intitially find one, your eyes get a "search image" and you start seeing them pretty often. Steve and I saw a few dozen blooming individuals that day, and each one was a treat. 

One of the main reasons I adore these orchids is their shape. Spiranthes orchids flower in either a single or double spiral. This individual shows a single spiral really well. This is a Spring Ladies'-Tresses, Spiranthes vernalis. First, a note about the common name of the Spiranthes. I will be using "Ladies'-Tresses" which is what the Ohio Department of Natural Resources uses. You will also see some places using "Lady's Tresses," "Ladies-Tresses," or some other similar name. A tress is a long lock of a woman's hair, and these flowers take on the name Ladies'-Tresses as they resemble a braided lock of hair. As common names are wont to do, the Spring Ladies'-Tresses does not bloom in the Spring, except when they do. The issue here is that in the southern states (where the common name stems from), this species actually does bloom in the Spring. However, the farther north you travel, the later this species blooms. So although the common name is due to its blooming habits in southern states, this species actually blooms in late Summer or early Fall here in Ohio. It blooms as late as October once you get into New England! 

A closeup of the flowers on the Spring Ladies'-Tresses, with a beetle guest.

The identification of ladies'-tresses can be difficult. In Ohio, you can often narrow it down to 2 or 3 species depending on your location and time of year, and then you have to start getting into the tiny details to separate them. I am relatively new to plants, so I always like to double check my ID's with the more knowledgeable members of the Facebook group Ohio's Wildflowers and Flora, which is a really wonderful group. Often the flowers, and specifically the labellum (or lip), have some characteristic feature to help nail the identification. In the Spring Ladies'-Tresses, the labellum often has a yellowish-tinge, as you can see in the photo above. An uncommon plant here in Ohio, the Spring Ladies'-Tresses is confined to only 8 counties in the southern tip of Ohio.

Next we have a much smaller species. This is the Little Ladies'-Tresses, Spiranthes tuberosa. This dainty species is also an inhabitant of dry prairies and meadows like the previous Spring Ladies'-Tresses (although they can be found in other habitats as well), but this species is generally much smaller in height. This individual was probably less than a foot high, while the Spring Ladies'-Tresses we saw were about 2 feet or so tall.

As I previously mentioned, the labellum of many Spiranthes orchids holds a clue as to what species it is. In this case, the labellum is pure white, while the previous Spring Ladies'-Tresses had a labellum with a yellow tinge. This pure white labellum is an easy way to quickly identify Spiranthes tuberosa. The Little Ladies'-Tresses has a decently wide range in Ohio. In fact, it pretty much has a straight distribution line from Adams County in Southern Ohio up to Ashtabula County in extreme Northeastern Ohio that's about two or three counties wide. You can see a range map here.

This is the Slender Ladies'-Tresses, Spiranthes lacera var. gracilis, which was last Spiranthes species we saw that day. I should note that ladies'-tresses are often a hard genus of flowers to photograph. They're generally short and very thin. This gives your camera's autofocus quite a challenge many times. The main issue is that they are often set among similarly-sized grasses and assorted other flowers. As a result, a camera's autofocus has a hard time deciding what exactly you're trying to focus on. If you add a breeze, good luck. Luckily this day was quite still, for the most part at least. There was one instance where I was trying to focus on an individual while there was an intermittent breeze. As soon as my camera would focus on the Spiranthes, a breeze would come and move the flower out of focus, and my camera would then decide to focus on a random piece of grass. Cue the process of trying to refocus on the flower, only to have the process repeat again a few seconds later.

The defining characteristic of the Slender Ladies'-Tresses is the green spot on the labellum, which you can see above. If you noticed in the previous paragraph, I said this was Spiranthes lacera var. gracilis. You might notice that this isn't the "normal" type of scientific name with only a genus and species part; there's also a "var. gracilis." This means that it is the gracilis variety of Spiranthes lacera. A variety is essentially a distinct type within a species. S. lacera var. gracilis is also known as the Southern Slender Ladies'-Tresses. The other variety is S. lacera var. lacera, also called the Northern Slender Ladies'-Tresses. Andrew Gibson, the blogger at The Buckeye Botanist, helped me on the variety part. He said "The best way to differentiate the two [varieties] is by the presence of basal leaves at anthesis. Variety gracilis' basal leaves are gone while var. lacera's are still there during flowering. Additionally, var. gracilis is a single rank of flowers in a tight spiral around the stem; var. lacera's flowers are more or less secund and all to one side of the stem and hardly spiraled." He also pointed out that var. lacera hasn't been found in Ohio so far, although he believes it is probably somewhere in extreme northern Ohio.

My trip to Blue Jay Barrens was jam-packed with exciting species, and hopefully I'll have some more time to make at least another post on it. These three orchids, which were all lifers for me, bring me up to 14 orchid species for my life list out of the 47 species in Ohio.

Eastern Prickly Pear Cactus

If someone says the word "cactus," what do you think of? Deserts? Heat? Stark, sandy landscapes? Ohio probably never crossed your mind, and why should it? There's no cacti in Ohio...right? If you thought that, you'll probably be very surprised to learn that Ohio does indeed have a species of native cactus.

I was down in Adams County last week to do some exploring, and I decided to visit the cemetery pictured above. This is Sandy Spring Cemetery, a small cemetery that lies on the Ohio River. Cemeteries are often very important places in the botanical world. As humans expand into an area, they have a nasty habit of destroying all of the native ecosystems during development. Cemeteries face a different kind of alteration. When creating a cemetery, graves are dug and sometimes the native flora is mowed and grass is planted in its place. Sometimes cemeteries become abandoned and are not maintained. Since the soil composition wasn't altered (farmed, removed, eroded, etc.), seed banks still exist, and the original flora might recolonize the area. An example of this is Bigelow Cemetery in Madison County, now a state nature preserve. Bigelow Cemetery was a pioneer cemetery in the Darby Plains, an extensive prairie system in western Ohio. Although most of the Darby Plains were plowed and ultimately destroyed, Bigelow Cemetery was never plowed. It is one of, if not the only, place in Ohio where original, unplowed prairie remains. Had it not been a cemetery, it would have been turned to farmland like the rest of the prairie. Sandy Spring Cemetery is another such instance of a cemetery saving a special area, and I'll get to that later.

My reason for visiting the cemetery was to see the native Eastern Prickly Pear, Opuntia humifusa, pictured above. It can be found in the Oak Openings region of northwest Ohio and in certain places in southern Ohio. The Eastern Prickly Pear prefers dry, sandy soils and full sunlight exposure. This is why it can be found at the sandy Oak Openings. The Oak Openings region is essentially left-over beaches (hence all the sand) from a long-gone lake called Lake Warren. It's a different story along the Ohio River though. The Eastern Prickly Pear makes its home here in the very rare Ohio River sand terrace habitat.

If we look at satellite imagery, we can get a better idea as to how one of these sand terraces forms. This is a closeup of the section of the Ohio River in question. Ohio is the landmass to the north of the river (where Sandy Spring Cemetery is located), while Kentucky is the landmass to the south. I have outlined two sand terraces in red. To understand how these formed, we have to understand how rivers affect the land through erosion and deposition processes. Above you can see a "meander," otherwise known as a river bend. When flowing water comes to the start of a bend, the majority of the energy goes straight into the bank. This erodes that bank, creating what is called a Cut Bank. A cut bank is essentially just a very steep bank. Now, on the side opposite of the cut bank is what is called the Point Bar. While cut banks are formed through erosional processes, point bars are formed through depositional processes. When the water hits the cut bank, it erodes particles of soil and rock. The water then essentially ricochets off the cut bank toward the opposite side of the river. By this point it has lost some momentum, and the now-slower water deposits some of the soil/rock material it had previously picked up. To see a visual representation of this process, go to this link. This process repeats over and over, slowly eating away at one side of the river while depositing sand on the opposite side. Eventually you get sand terraces like the one above. As you can tell by the agricultural fields, the sand terraces are flat.

Right below the top layer of plants is sand that is a result of thousands of years of buildup from river deposition.

Sadly, being flat has led to this habitat's destruction. Early settlers traveled primarily by river and lived primarily by rivers. As settlers moved westward via the Ohio River in the 1800's, they passed mile after mile of the forested Appalachian foothills. These large, steep hills were unsuited for farming. The settlers were looking for a flat area to farm, as a farm would be their main source of food and goods. When settlers came across these flat sand terraces, they decided to stop and try to set up their homestead. Now, well-drained, dry, and sandy soil isn't the best for farming, but when the alternative is to keep floating down the river for who knows how long, you take your chances. As these sand terraces were developed into farmland and small towns, the unique habitat was slowly destroyed, and with it the unique plant community that called it home. Nowadays original sand terrace habitat is rare, and as a result many of the dry, sandy-soil-loving plants are too.

Range map courtesy of the Biota of North America Program (BONAP).

The Eastern Prickly Pear is a wide-ranging cactus found throughout much of the eastern United States. It is rare in many of its northern locations, including Ohio where it is state-listed as Potentially Threatened. One reason is the destruction of proper habitat (like the development of sand terraces). Another reason is the removal of wild plants from a wild population. People like to have these as a yard plant, and some will simply go to a wild population and transfer those plants to their yard, reducing the individuals in that population.

There are records from a total of 19 counties here in Ohio, although only 13 of those counties have records from after 1980. It appears to be disappearing from the southern counties that are away from the Ohio and Scioto Rivers, although the lack of records from the past 35+ years might simply reflect a lack of effort to keep tabs on those populations. You should look for this species in well-drained sandy soils that are exposed to sunlight.

Of course, it wouldn't be a post about a cactus without talking about their infamous defenses. The Eastern Prickly Pear employs two different types of defense against a would-be herbivore. The first, and most obvious, are spines. These spines are actually modified leaves, although the cells in spines are dead instead of living like a normal leaf. These spines grow out of a dark bump on the cactus called the areole. The other line of defense are glochids. Glochids are tiny hair-like spines that also grow from the areoles. Unlike the spines, these glochids break off very easy and readily irritate the skin. I personally found this out after touching one of the cacti to get a better look. The rest of the day I kept pulling out tiny glochids that had embedded themselves in my hand. You can see these glochids in the photo above; look for the red clusters protruding from the areoles. There are hundreds of glochids in each cluster.

Cacti, as a whole, are strange. They're plants, but they really don't look or act like other "normal" plants. They are extremely modified and have many adaptations that allow them to live in dry or drought-prone areas. Most species, including the Eastern Prickly Pear, are succulents, meaning they have thick, fleshy pads that are used to store water. Since they lack photosynthetic leaves, all photosynthetic processes occur in the enlarged stem. They also employ a special water-saving process during photosynthesis called Crassulacean acid metabolism, better known as CAM photosynthesis. Those are only a few of the many adaptations. Of course, Ohio isn't quite like the deserts of the Southwest or South America, but the Prickly Pear uses these adaptations not to simply survive in an area, but to exploit a hard to grow in area. As I've previously mentioned, this species prefers sandy soils. This isn't the easiest type of soil to grow in. Any rainfall will simply seep out of the sand instead of remaining easily accessible like most soils. As a result, these soils are very dry. Add in full sunlight, and you have a very hard place for a plant to live in. The Eastern Prickly Pear, with its water-saving adaptations, can easily take advantage of this type of habitat and thrive, instead of facing intense competition in a more forgiving environment.

If you look at the bottom of this photo, you can see some of the prickly pear individuals nestled among the other plants. The hills in the background are actually in Kentucky. Those hills are the cut banks from the Ohio River. The rest of the ground you see is part of the flat sand terrace.

I'm currently finishing up this summer's lab work. This upcoming Saturday I move back into the dorms at Ohio University and start classes on that Monday. I plan on trying to get out one or two more posts this week since I have a few days of "rest" before dealing with the craziness of moving in and starting classes. Thanks for reading!

Crested Coralroot

This past Wednesday I made the trip out to Adams County in southern Ohio. Now, those of you who know me probably know I have a slight obsession with Adams County, but it's for good reason! This place is a biological hotspot of diversity, rarities, prairies, and more.

My main reason for going was to see the ever-amazing Lynx Prairie, which I've previously wrote about here. Late July/Early August is prime time in the prairies of Ohio; many of the wildflower species bloom in this part of the summer, making for incredible displays of color among the green grasses. For some examples of the flowers blooming right now in the Adams Co. prairies, check out my previous post here. When it comes to Ohio prairies, Lynx is by far my favorite. It is an incredible system of pocket prairies that is definitely worth exploring!

I arrived at Lynx Prairie at a perfect time. In the second prairie opening I saw two people looking down at a plant. We had our greetings and I asked them if they had seen anything interesting while there. They pointed me to the plant they were looking at: a beautiful specimen of Crested Coralroot, a species of orchid. (Imagine that, more orchids!) This is an orchid that I've been wanting to see for a long time, and I was beyond ecstatic to finally get the chance to see one. The couple told me that there were more scattered about the preserve and to keep an eye out for them. As I later found out, it turns out the people that showed me the orchid were none other than Deb Marsh and her husband. You might know Deb Marsh as the blogger at Around the Bend, another nature-based Ohio blog, which I've been following for the past couple of years. It's always great to meet another blogger out in the field!

Crested Coralroot, Hexalectris spicata, is a unique plant. It lacks chlorophyll, giving it a haunting pale color that stands out against the vibrant greens of the prairie and forest edge. As you might know, chlorophyll is necessary for a plant to produce food. If it lacks chlorophyll, then how does it get food? The answer lies in the roots. Crested Coralroots (as well as all orchids at some point during their life cycle) are myco-heterotrophs. Myco-heterotrophy is a symbiotic relationship between a plant and fungus. It's a complex system of energy exchange, with the Crested Coralroot ultimately being a parasite. I'll explain the process below!

Many plants form a relationship with fungus. For the vast majority, this relationship is mutualistic, meaning both the plant and fungus benefit. What happens is that a fungus will colonize the roots of a plant. The plant will then give the fungus carbohydrates for the fungus to live and prosper. This causes the fungus to grow in size, creating more surface area. The plant benefits from this increase in surface area, as its fungus-colonized root system can now absorb more water and nutrients. This creates what is called a mycorrhizal network. Now, in comes the Crested Coralroot. This orchid "cheats" the system. The orchid will essentially send its roots to tap into the mycorrhizal network. From there, it actually steals the carbohydrates from the fungus. Essentially, the Crested Coralroot steals food from another plant, while using the mycorrhizal fungus as a middle-man. It's pretty amazing to think about all of the complex craziness that occurs down in the soil. We're taught from a young age a very simplistic way of how plants grow, get nutrients, and make food. The reality is much, much more complex than how most of us view it.

The foot-tall Crested Coralroot stands out against the greenery, creating a striking scene.

Crested Coralroot is a rare plant in Ohio. In fact, it is state-listed as Potentially Threatened. There's only three counties that it can currently be found in here in Ohio (Adams, Scioto, and Lawrence). Crested Coralroot only comes above ground to flower and produce seeds; however, an individual does not do this every year. They will only send up a flowering stalk every few years. As a result, during some years a location might not have any flowering individuals, while other years might have dozens. Crested Coralroot tends to bloom in large numbers during wet summers. The extremely wet summer we're currently in has made for an amazing year when it comes to fungi and many plant species, and Crested Coralroot is no exception. In fact, we counted 10 individuals easily at the site, and we probably missed many more. If you want to see one, I highly suggest going this year. From what I've read, Lynx Prairie and parts of Shawnee State Forest are the two easiest places to find this orchid.

I'm also proud to announce that my blog recently surpassed 50,000 views! I just want to thank everyone for their support, and for reading!

A Gentian and an Orchid

About three weeks ago, I and a couple of other Ohio University students made the trip up to northern Ohio to assist with a graduate student's salamander research. While up in Erie County, we decided to stop by Castalia Quarry Metropark to check it out.

After pulling into the parking lot, we decided to head down the Fringed Gentian Trail. After a few feet in a forest, the trail opened up to this limestone-based prairie. Knowing that this was prime blooming time for the fringed gentians, I eagerly began searching the grasses for a fringed gentian, a lifer for me.

After only about 3 minutes of searching, a medium-sized blue flower caught my eye. Quickly moving to it, I laid eyes upon a beauty of a flower. There are multiple gentian species in Ohio, including two of the fringed kind (which get their names from the fringing on the flowers). These are the Lesser and the Greater. The ones I came across at Castalia Quarry were the Greater Fringed Gentian, Gentianopsis crinita. This species is state-listed as "Potentially Threatened." As of 2008, this species has been recorded in only 10 counties here in Ohio, mostly in the north and northeast.

So why is this a Greater Fringed instead of a Lesser? Both occur in Erie County, so I wasn't sure. I didn't feel comfortable enough making the ID, so I consulted the Facebook group Ohio's Wildflowers and Flora. Andrew Gibson, a field botanist for ODNR and the blogger who runs the amazing Natural Treasures of Ohio, IDed it as a Greater Fringed Gentian. He said "there is distinct fringing across the summit of the petals and the cauline leaves are more lance-ovate and stubby. Lesser Fringed Gentian's leaves are much narrower/linear and longer by comparison."

Greater Fringed Gentians can be found in wet meadows and prairies, ditches, fens, and a variety of other open habitats. This is an Autumn-blooming species which blooms from September to October, which is relatively late in the year for flowers. They were definitely one of the coolest flowers I've seen, and they're definitely worth a look for those interested!

While I was taking pictures of the prairie area, the others of the group decided to head back to the car. After I was finished with my photos, I began heading back to the car myself. Along the way, a tiny spike of white flowers made me freeze. Looking over, I saw to my surprise that it was none other than a species of ladies'-tresses, a type of orchid. Closer inspection revealed it was the Great Plains Ladies'-Tresses, Spiranthes magnicamporum, which is yet another state listed plant (Potentially Threatened). As the name suggests, this is a prairie species that is at home in the Great Plains. This species, however, does exist in other pocket prairies throughout the east, including a few places throughout Ohio.

This ladies'-tresses orchid is quite similar to S. cernua (in fact, it was considered the same species until 1973), but there are a few distinguishing features. The Great Plains Ladies'-Tresses is found in prairie habitats; the one above was found in a dry limestone prairie for example. There are also no leaves on the stem when this species flowers, and instead is just the stem coming straight up from the ground with a spike of white flowers. Closer inspection of the flowers also holds some identification traits. As you can see in the photo above, the lip of the flower curls downward. The sepals, which can be found above the curled flower, extend past the lip of the flower. This species also has a very strong scent.

Both of these flowers were a completely unexpected find; I'm very happy we stopped by the park! I've been going on these weekend salamander research trips for the last 3 weeks, and I've seen a lot of cool stuff. I'll be working on a few more blog posts that go over some of the things I've been able to get photos of, so stay tuned!