Abundant Diversity in a Single Stride

By Sydney Chandler

Choosing to cover minimal distance this week provided the opportunity to observe extraordinary variety at the Dwarf Conifers garden. The distinct scent of conifers wafts across the path, the waterfall’s din covers any rustling of needles, and walking too closely to the edge of the path results in scruffy ankle-high tickles.

Dwarf Conifers Diversity

Variety among the Dwarf Conifers comes in many categories. Color varieties include green, yellow, and even silver needles. In particular, the Common Juniper and Tamarack exhibit multiple shades on a single stem. Several plants are embellished with cones. Some cones are green and resemble the tight elongated shape of a caterpillar chrysalis while others are brown with each scale pealing outward.

‘Petite’ Common Juniper

Stems have contrasting needle patterns: radial growth or a much flatter shape. Up close, needles mimic both organic and in-organic textures: feathers, plastic Lego trees, sturdy grasses, and worn-out felt. Stepping back, the plants’ shapes range from ground creepers to bushes to trees. Comically, a few varieties (such as the Jack Pine) appear to be tree-wannabe’s but are too exhausted to grow vertically.

‘Pusch’ Norway Spruce

For tired legs, the Dwarf Conifers spark curiosity and provide ample variety with minimal walking. Where else in the Arboretum is there so much diversity in a single stride?

Sydney Chandler is a Minnesota Master Naturalist Volunteer.

Heat, Wind, Dark, … and Stormy?

By Greg Lecker

Since showy lady’s slipper is blooming, I head directly to the boardwalk of Green Heron Pond.  Though some orchids can be found in the woodland, this corner of the bog is where the plants are most plentiful.  I’m not disappointed – and you won’t either if you hurry.  Sunday storms may affect the blooms I see (and paint).

Showy Lady’s Slipper

The Minnesota state flower features one or two showy flowers per stem, 1” to 1-1/2” long, white with pink or purple stripes cascading over the pouch.   Three white sepals add the finishing design touches to a slipper fit for a princess!

Though long-lived, the plant requires 15 years from seed germination to flowering.  Sawdust-sized seeds germinate into a swollen corm-like structure, then develop further only if a certain type of fungus is present. Only in symbiotic concert with this fungus will this orchid mature, for the flower’s spaghetti-like roots have forgone the usual root hairs that are necessary to absorb soil nutrients.   The flower’s tenuous grip in our landscape, if not the laws prohibiting the plant’s harvest and transplant, is reason enough to rely on reputable growers if one feels one must try growing this orchid in one’s home landscape.

I seek refuge from the heat and wind in Grace Dayton Wildflower Garden.  The woodland is very dark.  The garden is densely forested now and lush – the result of more than plentiful spring rains.  Wild ginger and Mayapple have formed spread drifts of softly rounded foliage.  Under the spreading palms of the latter, the miniature green apple-like fruit is forming.

All shades of green are present today:  the deep blue green of the maple woodland a well as distant violet-greens in the long open views where the heavy atmosphere holds diffusing moisture.  And, I glimpse yellow and reddish greens in the prairie beyond the trees.  Between the woodland and the prairie, golden Alexanders are still blooming, though in decline.  One of the longer lasting flowers, it bridges the gap between spring ephemerals and prairie profusion.

Golden Alexanders

The prairie is in that odd adolescent stage where there is much potential; though the fruits of labor are not displayed yet. Lead plant unfurls its leaves; we await its spikes of dusty violet accented with orange.

Lead Plant Unfurls

On the roadside edge of the Bennett Johnson Prairie, two standout flowers are false white indigo and spiderwort.

Native Flowers!

By Mary Beth Pottratz

Bright sunshine, a cloudless sky and a concert of birdsong beckon me through the woods. A woodpecker repeats long riffs of its drum solo in a precise staccato, robins chortle, red-eyed vireos repeat their syllabic tunes, and song sparrows serenade.Quaking aspen leaves tremble in the breeze.

Phlox

The spicy sweet scent of blue phlox drifts on the warm air. Bumble bees land on Virginia waterleaf, bending the stem almost in half. Columbine, wild rose, red osier dogwood and starry Solomon’s seal are all in bloom. Maidenhair ferns ripple gracefully in the breeze.

But I hustle to the boardwalk behind Green Heron Pond. Blue flag iris peek between cattails and bushes. An eastern tiger swallowtail puddles in mud. Jewelweed is already up to my hips!

Ruby-throated Hummingbird

Suddenly, a ruby-throated hummingbird tries to nectar on their is in front of me then darts quickly away. From the deck overlooking the pond, I watch tree swallows and barn swallows dip in the water and play.

A pair of ducks are nesting in the cattails. Several passers-by take a guess at the species, but the ducks are too far away. Jody stops by with her long lens and helps out. A pair of wood ducks!

Yellow balls dot stems of tufted loosestrife. Sensitive fern, starwort, sedges, grasses and clumps of marsh marigold leaves tumble over each other in the wetland.

Red-Winged Blackbird – Photo Courtesy of Jody Russell Photography

Male and female red-winged blackbirds flirt and chase through the marsh. A lone female perches atop a cattail, swaying in the wind. Jody grabs the shot before the blackbird darts away, and shares it with us!

Tall northern bog and green bog orchids sport tiny, greenish blossoms. Marsh vetchling’s cerise-colored petals stand out against the greenery like neon at night.

Wild Calla

All the while, common yellowthroats call “wickety, wickety, wickety”. Wild calla– that northern wetland flower without a flower –has a single waxy white leaf protecting a spike of white stamen and green pistils.

Tamaracks with new needles show off fresh, rosy cones. A song sparrow sings sweetly from its branch. Dragonflies dart overhead, catching mosquitoes and flies as they dash about. An eastern phoebe rasps nearby.

Horsetail

Large yellow lady’s-slippers bloom in clumps. Showy lady’s-slippers are eight inches tall, but I see no buds yet. Colonies of horsetail stems are ringed with branches resembling pine needles. Some are tipped with cones that will release spores at maturity.

Bright white petals of Canada anemone rise from the center of is leaves. A bee-mimicking fly nectars there, pollinating as it goes from plant to plant. Smooth Solomon’s seal dangles groups of florets from the axils beneath its leaves.

Marsh Marigold

Marsh marigold’s seedpods have started to pop open, displaying loads of petite seeds. Yellow lotus is in bloom in the Iris Garden pond.

Prairie smoke’s seedheads wave like smoke in the wind. Spiderwort is just starting to show its deep blue petals. Golden Alexanders tint the prairie yellow, punctuated by tall spires of white wild indigo. Large-flowered beardtongue is blossoming as well.

It takes me hours before I wrench myself away. I’ll have to return soon!

Mary Beth Pottratz is a Minnesota Master Naturalist Volunteer. More information about the Master Naturalist Program is available at www.minnesotamasternaturalist.org.

Wrinkled Leaves Escape their Miniature Suitcases

By Sydney Chandler

Miniature leaves and petals this week resemble wrinkled clothes unpacked from tiny suitcases. Leaves unfold and deepen in color. Flower petals peel outward in synchronized formation.

Pansy

There is a particularly stark contrast between the new growth of the Sensory Garden and the bare stems of the Wilson Rose Garden. Bursting peony buds at the Sensory Garden are an attraction for ants as well. They trace frantic paths around the spherical buds of the Pink Princess Peonies. After the ants’ excitement, the Rose Garden feels like a ghost town.

Pink Princess Peony

A short meander to the Woodland Azalea Garden offers azaleas at various stages of growth. The Rhododendron ‘Lilac Lights’ Azalea has particularly interesting petals: wrinkled to resemble loosely balled-up paper. Looking around, there is a range of textures: several flowers are smooth, ridges appear on some, and others are already wilted.

Rhododendron ‘Lilac Lights’ Azalea

It’s exciting to see the progress of leaves and petals as they unfold this spring. As others begin to open throughout the season, what different methods of unfolding will appear?

Sydney Chandler is a Minnesota Master Naturalist Volunteer

Umbrellas…

By Greg Lecker

Along the entry drive and within the gardens, tulip petals are soaking wet, their colors saturated with moisture.  Several inches of rain have fallen and continue to fall.   In general, plants don’t seem to mind; but the earth yields to the flow of water.  Pools gather at the base of the hill below the climbing rose garden, flows across the Sensory Garden parking lot and onward to Iris Pond – which appears full.  Even with Grace Dayton Wildflower Garden, new vernal ponds have formed along and almost over the path this spring.

Along the entry path into the woodland, red and yellow columbine laps in the moisture.  Its flower stems seem to be stronger than they appear.  They remain erect, the flowers suspended and floating.

Columbine

Marsh Marigold decorates the edges of the zig-zag brook where water flows stronger than I’ve witnessed before.

“I love the Cowslip, with its yellow cup;

And there the honey-bee delights to dwell

Athirst, still lingering for the last sweet sup

Till daylight fade;

Humming her merry airs o’er twilight dell

And dewy glade.”

– T. L. Merritt;

The Language of Flowers compiled and edited by Mrs. L. Burke

No insects are flying this morning – it’s too wet out.  I too enjoy the long-lasting blooms of cowslip or marsh marigold, which blooms here and in the bog at Green Heron Pond.

Marsh Marigold

The woodland is lush now.  A purple haze hovers above the green ground cover.  The blooms of Virginia waterleaf are delicately detailed.

Virginia Waterleaf

While many gardeners consider this plant a weed, it is a native wildflower found in woodlands.  Surprisingly, as often as not, the leaves are not mottled with patterns than resemble water droplets.  I cannot find any such plants this morning.

A flower that carries its own umbrella is Mayapple.  Large palmately divided leaves resemble the protecting outstretched hands of giant garden gnome.  Below are the wondrously softly tinted flower.  Carefully look under the leaves, and you will find the flowers.

Mayapple

I don’t have an umbrella this morning, not even a rain coat – forgotten at home.  Thus, I wrap up my visit early.  Be sure to bring rain gear and sunscreen on your next visit.  One never knows what nature will offer as entertainment next.

Greg Lecker is a Minnesota Master Naturalist Volunteer.

 

 

 

 

 

Familiar Faces

By Boak Wiesner

Strangely, it was Kipling who comes to mind as I went in search of the famous and elusive Dwarf Trout Lily. I head towards where I saw them last spring, recalling “I knew his times and his seasons…” But I find none. Yet. All around me are the familiar wildflowers of the Minnesota woodlands, which more than make up for not seeing one species.

Is there anything else that says “Spring is here” better than the blooming of Trillium? I remember the first time I was really aware of them, lo these 25 years ago, when the woods up at Banning State Park was carpeted in their blossoms.

Another familiar face is Marsh Marigolds. Wherever there is a little water standing or flowing, as in the little creek here, you’ll find these happy golden flowers. They remind me how much I have learned about wildflowers over the years of writing these Nature Notes.

Take these Foam Flowers. Up ‘til a few years ago, I didn’t even know they existed, much less be able to identify them. Learning something new is always on the docket when I wander the paths of the Arboretum. I note they are white with yellow pollen on the stamens, which seems to be the main coloration pattern for the flowers that bloom early in Minnesota.

Another example is the False Rue Anemone. Their abundance around me cheers me up at the onset of a little rainshower. Some time ago I had some back surgery, which hinders me was I walk, but right now, I feel that it has slowed me down sufficiently from my past hurried pace, so I can truly observe and enjoy all the beauty around me out here in Nature.

The Jack-in-the-Pulpit growing so nicely in on the forest floor indicates that these woods are relatively healthy. The flower parts are all gathered together in the “jack” called a spadix. Probably it should be called “Jack and Jill in the Pulpit.” Don’t eat it, though. It contains oxalic acid crystals which are long and thin and sharp. They poke into your tender cheeks and hurt.

Boak Wiesner is a Minnesota Naturalist Volunteer

*This is Boak Wiesner’s final scheduled “Nature Notes” blog post as he heading off for a well-earned retirement.  The Arboretum thanks Boak for his dedication and love of nature and of the Arbortetum. Have a great retirement!

Unexpected Color Amidst the Gray

By Greg Lecker

Waterfowl are especially talkative this morning.  One pair of Canada geese honk overhead flying towards Iris Pond.  Another pair honk as they come in for a landing on Green Heron Pond.  A pair of wood ducks fly from the water surface as the trail and I near pass by.  Their call is heard as they take flight or when they are alarmed – and clearly both are true now.  While the male call is a thin whistle; the female call is a repeated, nervously warbling ooo-eeek, ooo-eeek.  I feel I owe them an apology for my presence.

Though the day seems dull, gray, dreary and drizzling, unexpected light and color can be found by those who search.  I discover that my friend Libby Scheele, husband Paul, and son Ben are also visiting today.  Libby, ever the artist in words and paint, describes the skies as “platinum”; and I agree that we need to be open to each day, whatever it presents.  That seems true of skunk cabbage, found in wetlands like those bordering the boardwalk.  A gray day challenges my photography skills – so I’m turning to other art forms.

Skunk Cabbage

When painting them, I find subtle interest amidst their unfurling leaves.  In the mottled colors of a bruise, fleshy flowers can occasionally be found.  A pointed, spotted brown or purplish hood (spathe) emerges to a height of about 4” to 6” tall.  Inside this spathe, a club-like stem or spadix bears tiny flowers.  The spathe-spadix arrangement resembles its Arum family sibling, Jack-in-the-Pulpit.  Layered like cabbage leaves, the foliage will grow to be as tall as two foot or more.

Seemingly overnight — presumably because of abundant moisture and intermittent sunny warmth – Grace Dayton wildflower woodland has been carpeted with green ground cover and yellow and blue blooms!  The same yellow “buttercup” found in Green Heron pond’s bog also blooms here along the waterway.

Cow Slip

Cowslip appears to be a poetic, pastoral name for a flower, also known as Marsh Marigold.  Its linguistic origins suggest a more base association.  The original Anglo-Saxon word was cuslyppe, cu for cow and slyppe for slop.  Thus cowslip literally means “cow-slop” or “cow-dung”, presumably because cowslip flourishes in cow pastures!  Might cows have also slipped on patches of this flower?  The name “Marigold” comes from an Anglo-Saxon work meaning “marsh-gold”.

Virginia Bluebells

Blooming unusually early, Virginia Bluebells cover the hill below the sensory garden restrooms.   Flowering lasts only a few weeks at most and sometimes less.  The flowers begin opening as the stems elongate.  The typical flowers are elongated, bell-shaped flowers, about 1” long with five petals that fuse into a long tube (corolla) blue with a reddish cast in the bud.

Twinleaf

Twinleaf leaves are almost completely divided into two symmetrical halves and resemble open butterfly wings.  The genus name Jeffersonia commemorates Thomas Jefferson who, among his other accomplishments, was a botanist.  Twin Leaf is a plant you won’t find blooming unless you visit the woodland nearly every day.  The flowers resemble those of Bloodroot – which was nearly as elusive this spring as Twin Leaf always is.  Today, I’m skunked!  I see one flower bud and seed heads but no open flower.  Maybe later today when (and if) the sun comes out.  Good things come to those who are present – early and often!

Greg Lecker is a Minnesota Master Naturalist Volunteer.