Saturday, June 16, 2018

What's In Bloom? June 15, 2018. Somme Prairie Grove.

Should I call this post: "Open For Business"?
Or "We're Ready To Reproduce!"?!?

Here are photos of 55 species and 4 scenes - that caught my attention as the path wound through groves and openings - with captions and comments. 

Scarlet Painted Cup and Purple Vetch.
The scarlet painted cup, now rare, was once typical of our finest prairies and especially savannas.
The purple vetch is an sprawling savanna vine.
A morning glory - hedge bindweed. Its halberd-shaped leaves are distinctive.
Another vine - it's wrapped around old and new stems of Illinois rose - in a thicket that favored by both.
Although Illinois rose won't bloom for some time, Carolina rose (shown here) and smooth rose are already knock-outs. 
Alumroot flowers are a quiet yellow green. This species is typical of high quality prairies and savannas.
Its maple-shaped leaves are not visible here. The big leaves are prairie dock.
Here alumroot is in one of its favorite savanna haunts - in a thicket with dropseed grass, gray dogwood, hickory and grape. 
Again, the big leaves are prairie dock. The big spray of white pea flowers is white false indigo.
That red oval toward the bottom left is a strawberry leaf that has turned, for some reason.
It's kind of fun that - when the chlorophyll goes, the leaf is colored like the fruit. 
Wild Quinine (bottom left) and White False Indigo
And a look at the landscape, with the messy trees savannas often have. 

Here the indigo is backed up by the big, lobey leaves of compass plant.
Now the blue spiderwort comes in, with indigo, compass, and a budding tuberous Indian plantain front right. 
Big old trees are worth a look as well.
This behemoth has a history. Perhaps in revery you can plum it. 
This rich herb community features diverse leaves and just a few flowers. In bloom: black-eyed Susan, spiderwort, and a hint of downy phlox. Leaves: prairie dock, rosinweed, gayfeather, lead plant, bush clover, mule ear, dropseed, Indian grass, rattlesnake master, early goldenrod, wild quinine, and so many more, if you look close.  
Carrion flower is "pollinated by deceit." The spherical flower heads smell like rotting meat, and flies come to lay eggs. Their feet pick up pollen, before they fly off to be fooled again. Here the tendrils of carrion flower and the tendrils of purple vetch are twining around woodland sunflower and each other. Cosy. 
Gray dogwood puts out handsome and fragrant flowers.
Indigo buntings, yellowthroats, and other birds nest in the shrubs.
Short's sedge is distinctive for its nearly black fruits.
Daisies are common, in many senses. They are "aliens" - from Europe. I can't see that they do any harm.
In the short run, they're pretty, and their roots help secure damaged turf.
As the ecosystem recovers its diversity, the daisies fade out. 
Since we're walking the trail, from time to time we look down.
The two flowering alien weeds here are dandelion and red clover.
A friend says "don't get your undies in a bundle over a few weeds. These species do no harm." 
Spreading Dogbane. Beautifully delicate. But hard for me to photograph. 
Philadelphia fleabane. Another fine native weed. 
Here the gray dogwood is in a thicket with hedge bindweed and red and Hill's oaks.
This scene is special to me for its June grass (upper left center).
It's a locally rare species that doesn't bloom every year.
Here it's growing with black-eyed Susan, dropseed, fleabane, quinine, bastard toadflax, rattlesnake master,
strawberry, purple prairie clover, prairie dock, and a multitude more.  
Most of the grasses this time of year are cool-season species like the Junegrass and Leiberg's panic grass. They're important to the ecosystem, but they don't make a lot of fuel - as will the big warm-season grasses that are just starting to rise. It's those grasses that burn out the non-fire-adapted trees (and will trim the lower limbs off many of the oaks as well). 
Veined Pea. Was absent from Somme for more than three decades. We knew of no local sources of seed. Then we noticed a few leaves. We put a deer-exclusion cage over them, and within a few years this rare beauty was sprawling around with abandon. We looked more carefully. Found leaves in five places along three long-abandoned fence rows. Now it thrives.
Meadow Rue. Big, brawny, and delicate. 
Prairie sundrops has begun to open only in the last few days. Spreading, low plant of moist prairie. 

Here sundrops shows it can shine in a partly shaded savanna situation with purple vetch, daisy, gray dogwood and two classic savanna specialists. In the middle are the leaves of cream gentian, which won't bloom until fall. The wide leaves with a purple tinge at the bottom right is purple milkweed, some of which is starting to bloom now. 
Once in a while we stop to appreciate the present openness of the bur oak woodland.
Somme Prairie Grove was one of the first places where this ancient, nearly forgotten community began to be restored. 
A patch of orchard grass - a European species planted long ago by dairy farmers - stands between the trail and a bur oak. We have watched the natural woodland and savanna flora gradually replace the cultivated grasses. 
Pale Spike Lobelia. Looking insignificant next to the big daisy?
But to an ecologist the lobelia looks like power - and the future, as this ecosystem recovers. 
Downy phlox is special. But if you can zoom in on the left, you'll see something special-er.
Leiberg's panic grass has a little purple flower where each seed will form. This little grass is another indicator of quality. You won't find it many places. 
Wild Quinine (right) and Beardtongue (left).
Close up of wild quinine. Note the black and gray beetles working it.
The insects are more varied and numerous than the flowers. How wonderful it would be one day to have a guide to their identification and fun ecology tidbits about the insects. 
The flora of the most open areas has much in common with the prairie. Here for example are prairie phlox, prairie dock, prairie dropseed, lead plant, hard-leaved goldenrod (sometime called the fine old name "mule ear") and other classic prairie species. But, if you can zoom in, and know your plants, you can also see such savanna indicators as carrion flower and re-sprouting oaks and dogwoods, kept low by regular fire.
Downy phlox and prairie phlox are two names for the same plant. It thrives across wet to dry and savanna to prairie. 
Red bulrush is a quiet plant, but many people ask about it, because it lines the footpath in many areas.
No, we didn't plant it there. It comes by itself. 
Next come a series of plants in the same family as the humble carrot - the Umbelliferae. Typically their flower heads are "umbels" - in which all the branches radiate from a one point. Some are edible. Some poisonous. Some common; some rare. Most have white or yellow flowers.
Cow Parsnip (white) rises over Golden Alexanders (yellow).
To me, "cow parsnip" is a poor name for so colossal a plant.
Latin name: Heracleum maximum: translates to something like "Hercules the Great."
Golden Alexanders may be the commonest plant in Somme's spring woodlands.

Sanicle or Black Snakeroot (Sanicula marilandica).
Another quiet flower - a rare plant that's a survivor at Somme from earlier times.
We rarely see it anywhere else, but it's common and happy here. 
Thicket Parsley. Hard for me to photograph. (Can you send us a better likeness?)
Elegant, spare, delicate, rare.
Here it stands in the savanna over purple vetch and mountain mint. 
Another attempt at thicket parsley (Perideridia americana).
Grows in savannas or, as here, in open woodlands.
(But the leaves you see behind it are the coarser leaves of the Alexanders. We found the seed of thicket parsley only in the forest preserve across the street from the Riverside-Brookfield High School - exactly where Floyd Swink reported it in his Plants of the Chicago Region. 


Another rare plant - meadow parsnip (Thaspium trifoliatum). This species was also here when we started, another bit of savanna heritage. It looks much like golden Alexanders, but it is slighter, often has heart-shaped basal leaves, and its outermost leaflet often has a heart-shaped base as well. 
Yellow Pimpernel. 
And here finally is golden Alexanders itself. Most of them are now setting seed.
This one was a large bloomer. 
And now for my last four - the apology photos.
Two-flowered Cynthia.
A glorious, uncommon flower, looking like a dandelion at first, but then emerging as gracefully special.
The apology is for showing only these yellow blurs.
It doesn't come close to the trail. But it will, one of these decades. It's increasing. 
Another blurry third-rate attempt.
This species has many common names. These include:
Wild Coffee. Tinker's Weed. Horse Gentian. 

Another beautiful umbel. Yarrow or Milfoil or Quaker Lace.
It's another alien, like Queen Anne's lace.
What do I have to apologize for? I like it, despite its lack of pedigree. 

And I must sort of apologize for ending with one of my favorite shapes and colors, even though it's not a flower. The early leaves of young bur oaks can be wonderfully maroon-ish. Unlike in most forests these days, bur oaks reproduce prolifically at Somme Prairie Grove, as they celebrate the sun and fire.

Thanks for joining in this walk of June 15. 

Note to photographers:
We'd like your better photos to replace or add to these.
But please take them from the trail.
You may notice trampled trails to pretty flowers, smashing rare vegetation here and there...
... even though a great specimen of the same species stands beside the path a little further on.
Help us protect this rare site.
We hope you'll keep both feet on the trail.

Thanks for any trailside photos you might offer.
Thanks for sharing your appreciation of this precious place.
Thanks for proofing and edits to Kathy Garness.

7 comments:

Jim Hansen said...

Thanks so much for the extensive photo depictions of the varied flora blooming at this time of year!

ryan said...

I'm normally a writing over pictures guy, and I enjoy the writing here. But the pictures here really help me recognize and understand. There are flashes of recognition, like the dogbane (probably a different species) I saw at the Skokie Lagoons a couple days ago.

The century-old Illinois Natural History article on the Skokie Marsh gave Meadow Rue as one of the predominant species of the dryer areas of the marsh. Which has me thinking how the Lagoons ecosystem seems to be changing in the wake of the renovation of the Willow Rd. dam a decade or two ago. More water is held back after rains, which seems to be slowly killing off many of the towering cottonwoods of the islands. The heron rookery south of Tower is increasingly visible from the water as cottonwood foliage grows sparser.

Is that a habitat in which swamp white oak would have done well? I wonder whether there are any acorns floating in that will take advantage of the new light. I wonder what other plants are present and absent from the seedbank there and will or won't be able to flourish in the new hydrology.

Ryan said...

For anyone interested, here is the article on Skokie Marsh vegetation.
https://www.ideals.illinois.edu/bitstream/handle/2142/47227/Bulletin9%2811%29.pdf?sequence=2&isAllowed=y

From the same set of scanned articles as the Skokie Mollusks article that was referred to in the other Somme blog.

Anonymous said...

Now that our Grigsby Prairie is surrounded by a deer barrier, our one colony of veined pea bloomed nicely for the first time. Hope to collect some seed. CFC lusts for the thicket parsley and meadow parsnip!

Jim Vanderpoel for CFC

Stephen Packard said...

@ Jim Vanderpoel and CFC. Thanks for the good comment. Yes, out-of-balance deer populations are one of the greatest threats to the conservation of many plant and animal species. Educated people know that overpopulated deer can wipe out many plant species, but fewer recognize that many species of birds, butterflies, walking sticks, etc. etc. - which are dependent on certain plant species or on plant structures (shrubs etc.) are also badly damaged by the deer. It's not the deer's fault, of course; it's the fault of people who won't recognize that deer populations need predation. If we can't have wolves and mountain lions in the suburbs, we can certainly have the deer's other major predator, human hunters or "cullers." Towns that care about nature have deer control programs, just as do the forest preserves and other conservation agencies. The solution can't be on a small property basis, except by fencing, as CFC wisely did. But the villages should work together, as some do, to keep populations in balance. Sadly, that requires more of a public education program than most elected officials are willing to support.

Stephen Packard said...

@ Ryan: I agree with your concern about the ecological state of the Skokie Lagoons. Some people are working there as stewards, but the challenges are so great! An overall plan should be discussed. There should be some areas that will be regularly burned. It's in those areas that the natural ecosystem of the uplands will have the best chances. As for the wetlands and the areas that don't get burned, they're in a different category. It their altered states, there may be little recovery potential, so far as natural ecosystems are concerned. They're evolving something else, which is likely to take a very long time.

Ryan said...

Just looked up scarlet painted cup and was surprised to discover it's a parasitic plant, only thriving in the presence of certain host plants (though there are many) whose roots it can parasitize! I had no idea.
Also that at least in New England, its prime habitat is anthropogenic - disturbed areas. Perhaps that's a regional thing, because it needs more sun than a New England woodland would give it. But you'd think a plant that did well in disturbed sites wouldn't have become rare here.