Botany

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Thoughts on Equisetum Phylogenesis

This a guest post. Words and photos by Jeremiah Sandler.

These notes do not discuss either anatomy or medicinal uses of Equisetum. Both topics are worthy of their own discourse.

Plants in the genus Equisetum can be found on each continent of our planet, except for Antarctica. The plants are collectively referred to as scouring rush or horsetail.  Equisetum is in the division of plants called Pteridophytes, which contains all of the ferns and fern-allies (lycopods, whisk ferns, etc.) Pteridophytes are characterized by having a vascular system and by reproducing with spores, rather than seeds. Equisetum is the only living genus within the entire class Equisetopsida.  Within this single genus, there are a mere 20 species.

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Equisetums can live pretty much anywhere. They can tolerate lots of shade, lots of sun, and virtually any soil condition (including submerged soil). Rhizomatous stems make it difficult for either disease or insects to kill an entire population. They do not require pollinators because they reproduce with spores.  Sounds like a recipe for reproductive and evolutionary success. Yet with all of these traits working in their favor, there is only a single genus left.  

Where’d they all go?

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Let’s briefly consider the origin of these plants first. In the late Paleozoic Era, during the end of the Cambrian Period, these plants began their takeover. Shortly thereafter (about 70 million years later), in the Devonian Period, land plants began to develop a tree-like habit, also called “arborescence.” Tree-sized ferns and fern-allies ruled the planet. They formed the ancient forests.

The elements required for photosynthesis were plentiful. The planet was warm. Competition from the Cambrian Explosion of flora and fauna drove plants upwards towards the sky. Larger plants can both shade their competition and remain out of reach of herbivores. None of the Equisetum species alive today are near their ancestors’ height.  

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It is rather obvious why we don’t see as many Equisetum species, and why they are not as large: The planet now is not the same planet it once was. Oxygen levels back in those times were about 15% higher than today’s levels. Seed plants can diversify much faster than non-seed-bearing plants; Equisetum cannot compete with the rate of diversification of seed-bearing plants.

The most interesting predicament comes when Equisetum is compared with other Pteridophytes. Some ancient Pteridophytes still do have diversity of genera. True Ferns, as they’re called, are broad-leaved ferns. In the class Filicopsida, there are 4 orders of True Ferns containing about 100 genera combined. Equisetum has 1 order and 1 genera.

What’s the primary difference between these two classes of Pteridophytes?  Broad leaves.

Most pteridophytes tolerate some shade; most other plants can’t tolerate as deep of shade as ferns. More specifically, the amount of shade the plants create could be a deciding factor in this question. True ferns have all of the traits equisetums have, with one additional physical trait that has pulled them ahead: Broad leaves allow true ferns to actively shade out local competition while creating more habitat for themselves. Equisetums don’t have this aggressive capacity.

Of course there are other biological and evolutionary pressures affecting equisetums beside their lack of broad leaves. The structure they do possess has benefited them at a time when it was advantageous to have it.  Otherwise why would it exist? Equisetums remind me of the dynamic nature of a planet. I don’t anticipate equisetums coming back. 

Although, I find it entertaining to humor the idea that they might return to their former glory. The planet’s climate could change toward any direction (I’m not a climatologist, though). Maybe equisetums are adequately prepared to adapt to whatever changes come – or maybe we are observing the gradual decline of an old branch on the tree of life.  

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The Nippleworts of Camassia Natural Area

This is a guest post. Words and illustration by Mesquite Cervino.

At the end of a residential neighborhood that is barely off the 205 in the hills of West Linn, Oregon is a small, 26 acre preserve called the Camassia Natural Area. The defining features of the landscape were caused by the Missoula Floods (aka the Spokane or Bretz floods) at the end of the last ice age (12 to 19 thousand years ago) which swept away the already established soil and in their place deposited glacial erratics from other far-away places, some even coming all the way from Canada. The flood reached eastern Oregon and the Willamette via the Columbia River Gorge and created the green and rocky plateau that is now Camassia.

While the reserve is named after a widespread plant in the park, which is a common camas (Camassia quamash) that blooms in April and early May, the park has over 300 different species overall. However, one species in particular has kicked in the door and far overstayed its welcome in the park, becoming a highly invasive weed in the area. This plant is known as Lapsana communis or nipplewort. It is an annual dicot that is native to Europe and Asia, but is considered invasive in Canada and the United States. In the U.S., the weed is most common west of the Cascades in the Pacific Northwest. It is in the Asteraceae family (aka the aster, daisy, or sunflower family), and like dandelions or common groundsel, nipplewort is part of the weedy side of the family.

nicole illustration_cropped

The name itself has an interesting history that originated around 350 years ago when an Englishman by the name of John Parkinson named the plant after he heard that it was useful for topical treatment of ulcers for women on certain areas of their bodies. It was also an herbal treatment for nursing mothers, and was used to aid cows and goats that were having trouble being milked. Another source of the name is said to have come from the shape of the basal lobes and their resembling features. Because nipplewort is edible, its leaves can be cooked like spinach or served raw in only the most hipster of salads.

In terms of its anatomy, nipplewort is about one to three and a half inches in height, has alternate, ovular, lobed, rich green leaves, and composite yellow flowers with about 13 petals – similar in resemblance to a dandelion. They flower from June to September and are pollinated by various insects. Seed set occurs in July to October. The plant then spreads through reseeding, and one plant can produce 400 to 1,000 seeds that put out shoots in fall and spring.

Consult a fellow botanist to find out more about Lapsana communis, especially if you are curious to know if it has invaded your territory. If it has, consider entertaining dinner guests with this unusual plant.

Additional Resources:

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Field Trip: Mud Springs Ridge and Cow Creek Saddle

Last weekend I went on two all day field trips that were part of Idaho Native Plant Society‘s annual meeting. The second field trip was in a location with a climate considerably warmer and drier than the first field trip. The flora was much more familiar to me since it was similar to what I generally see in southern Idaho. We visited two sites: Mud Springs Ridge and Cow Creek Saddle. Both are high on a mountain ridge (around 5300 feet in elevation) flanked by the Salmon River canyon on the east and the Snake River canyon on the west. The tiny town of Lucile, Idaho was just below us to the east, and if we would have continued down the other side of the mountain, we would have arrived at Hells Canyon National Recreation Area. These sites are high elevation grasslands, and there was a huge diversity of grasses and forbs to explore.

Taking decent photos of the plants was a challenge as the sun was shining brightly and there was a constant breeze. Photographs don’t quite cut it anyway. The views were incredible. Standing on a ridge top peering across a meadow full of wildflowers with more mountains in the distance. Mass amounts of lupines and paintbrushes mixed with grasses and other plants being tossed about in the breeze. Little rock gardens randomly dispersed across the hillsides. You kind of had to be there.

A view across the meadow at Mud Springs Ridge

A view across the meadow at Mud Springs Ridge

Searching for Silene spaldingii - an Idaho endemic - on the mountainside

Fellow botany geeks searching for Silene spaldingii (Spalding’s catchfly) – a rare, imperiled plant species

Gnarly, old curl-leaf mountain mahogany (Cercocarpus ledifolius) growing out of a rock outcrop

Gnarly, old Cercocapus ledifolius (curl-leaf mountain mahogany) growing out of a rock outcrop

Close up of Cercocarpus ledifolius

Cercocarpus ledifolius (curl-leaf mountain mahogany)

Orthocarpus tenuifolius (owl's clover)

Orthocarpus tenuifolius (thin-leaved owl’s clover)

Castilleja (indian paintbrush)

Castilleja hispida (harsh paintbrush)

Castilleja cusickii (Cusick's paintbrush)

Castilleja cusickii (Cusick’s paintbrush)

Lewissia columbiana v. wallowaensis

Lewisia columbiana var. wallowensis (Wallowa lewisia)

Lewissia columbiana v. wallowaensis

Lewisia columbiana var. wallowensis (Wallowa lewisia)

Erigeron

Erigeron davisii (Davis’ fleabane)

On cow creek saddle looking towards Salmon River canyon

On Cow Creek Saddle looking towards Salmon River canyon

On cow creek saddle looking towards Snake River canyon

On Cow Creek Saddle looking towards Snake River canyon

The field trips were incredible, and the annual meeting in general was a lot of fun. If you have a native plant society in your neck of the woods and you are not already a member, I highly recommend checking it out. Now, where to next?

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Field Trip: Coolwater Ridge Lookout

I spent this past weekend camping with friends near Grangeville, Idaho. I was attending the annual meeting of the Idaho Native Plant Society. Meetings in the boring sense of the word occurred, but they were brief. The bulk of the weekend consisted of long hikes on guided field trips. This post is a pictorial tour of a small fraction of the plants I saw on the Coolwater Ridge Lookout trail which is located in the Bitterroot Mountains  – my first of two all-day field trips. From where we were hiking we could look down at the canyon where the Selway River was fixing to meet the Lochsa River to form the middle fork of the Clearwater River. This is a part of Idaho that is basically too beautiful for words. At some point I will have more to say about this particular location, but for now here are a handful of semi-decent photos I took while on the hike.

A view from Coolwater Ridge Lookout trail. Looking down at the Selway River Canyon.

A view from Coolwater Ridge. Looking down at the Selway River canyon.

Erythronium grandiflorum - yellow glacier lily

Erythronium grandiflorum – yellow glacier lily

Leptosiphon nuttallii - Nuttall's linanthus

Leptosiphon nuttallii – Nuttall’s linanthus

Polemonium pulcherrimum - Jacob's-ladder

Polemonium pulcherrimum – Jacob’s-ladder

A view from the ridge. Looking down at the Selway River Canyon.

Sambucus racemosa – red elderberry

Phlox diffua - spreading phlox

Phlox diffusa – spreading phlox

Ribes viscosissimum - sticky currant

Ribes viscosissimum – sticky currant

Senecio integerrimus var. exaltatutus - Columbia groundsel

Senecio integerrimus var. exaltatutus – Columbia groundsel

Synthyris platycarpa - kittentails

Synthyris platycarpa – Idaho kittentails

Vaccinium scoparium - whortleberry

Vaccinium scoparium – grouse whortleberry

Viola glabella - pioneer violet

Viola glabella – pioneer violet

Cheilanthes feei - Fee's lipfern

Cheilanthes feei – Fee’s lipfern

Stay tuned for photos from the second of two field trips. In the meantime, go outside and see some nature.

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Diospyrobezoars, or Persimmons Are Trying to Kill You

Plants that are otherwise perfectly edible can still find a way to kill you. That seems to be the lesson behind phytobezoars. A bezoar is a mass of organic or inorganic material found trapped in the gastrointestinal tract of animals. Bezoars are categorized according to the material they are composed of, so one composed of indigestible plant material is known as a phytobezoar. After learning about bezoars of all kinds on a recent episode of Sawbones, I decided a post about them was in order.

I was particularly intrigued by a very specific type of bezoar known as a diospyrobezoar, a subtype of phytobezoars that can result from eating large quantities of persimmons. The skins of persimmons (Diospyros spp.) are high in tannins. When the tannins mix with stomach acids, a glue-like substance forms and can lead to the creation of a diospyrobezoar.

Fruits of Japanese persimmon (Diospyros kaki) - photo credit: wikimedia commons

Fruits of Japanese persimmon (Diospyros kaki) – photo credit: wikimedia commons

Phytobezoars are the most common type of bezoar and are generally composed of indigestible fibers, such as cellulose, hemicellulose, lignin, and tannins that are found in the skins of fruits and other plant parts. In general, phytobezoars are a rare phenomenon. The risk of obtaining them is higher in people who engage in certain activities (like consuming excessive amounts of high fiber foods or not chewing food properly) or who have certain medical conditions/have undergone certain medical treatments.

A study published in 2012 in Case Reports in Gastroenterology describes a specific incident involving the diagnosis and treatment of a diospyrobezoar. [It also includes a great overview of bezoars and phytobezoars if you feel like navigating through the sea of medical jargon]. The patient was a diabetic man in his 60’s that reported 5 days of abdominal pain after “massive ingestion of persimmons,” although it is not made clear what is meant by “massive” or “excessive” persimmon ingestion. Fourteen years prior, the patient had “undergone hemigastrectomy and associated truncal vagotomy to treat a chronic duodenal ulcer.” After a series of tests and observations, doctors determined that a large bezoar was lodged in the man’s intestines. Surgery was required to remove it. The recovered diospyrobezoar measured 12 cm x 5 cm and weighed 40 grams. Photos are included in the report if you must see them.

The authors of this study cite previous gastric surgery as being commonly associated with diospyrobezoar formation. They also cite previous abdominal surgery and absence of teeth as “predisposing factors.” They list major symptoms of bezoars, which include abdominal pain, bloating, vomiting and nausea, and small bowel obstruction. Phytobezoars most commonly form in the stomach where they can “generate gastric ulcers.” As you might imagine, the situation worsens if the phytobezoar enters the small intestine. Read the study for a more colorful description regarding that.

Surgery was necessary in this case, but not in all cases. The authors describe various medical and endoscopic treatments as alternatives to surgery. One approach is to try dissolving the bezoar using certain enzymes or Coca-Cola. The authors state that “there are several publications describing the successful use of Coca-Cola in treating bezoars.” [Here is a link to one such study.] The phosphoric acid and the carbon dioxide bubbles are suspected to be the active agents in breaking down the intruding masses. The authors warn, though, that “partial dissolution of bezoars located in the stomach can cause them to migrate to the small bowel, resulting in intestinal obstruction.”

Diospyrobezoars aside, persimmons are beautiful trees with lovely fruit. They are not out to get you any more than any other living organism out there, but their fruit should be consumed with caution. As with anything, the dose makes the poison. In the Sawbones episode, Sydnee McElroy specifically advises listeners to avoid unripe persimmons. That being said, the moral of the story is: if you like persimmons, eat them sparingly and make sure they’re ripe.

Want to learn more about persimmons and bezoars? Visit persimmonpudding.com for an excellent summary and lots of additional resources.

Common Persimmon (Diospyros virginiana), native to North America - photo credit: eol.org

Common Persimmon (Diospyros virginiana)  is native to North America. According to the U.S. Forest Service it is “distributed from southern Connecticut and Long Island, New York to southern Florida. Inland it occurs in central Pennsylvania, southern Ohio, southern Indiana, and central Illinois to southeastern Iowa; and southeastern Kansas and Oklahoma to the Valley of the Colorado River in Texas.”   – photo credit: eol.org

 

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Tiny Plants: Duckweeds

Obviously, a series about tiny plants must begin with duckweeds – a group of aquatic plants that holds records in a number of categories including smallest flowering plants, smallest vascular plants, and smallest fruits. They are so small, in fact, that they don’t even have true stems or leaves, but rather are composed of undifferentiated vegetative tissue known as a thallus. Some species have one or a few tiny rootlets; others form no roots at all. However, what they lack in their hyper-diminutive size, they make up for in their ability to form massive colonies, creating dense mats that can take up serious square footage in a pond or lake. Depending on the species present, a single square yard of a duckweed colony can contain hundreds of thousands of individual plants.

Five genera make up the duckweed subfamily (Lemnoideae): Spirodela, Lemna, Landoltia, Wolffia, and Wolffiella. This group used to be considered the family Lemnaceae, but has since been placed in Araceae – the arum family. While they are considered flowering plants, not all species of duckweeds produce flowers, and those that do, do so only rarely. They mainly reproduce asexually through a process called budding, in which growth occurs at the base of the thallus (or frond) and eventually splits off from the parent plant. This process happens fairly quickly, which is why duckweeds are able to create substantial colonies.

 

Duckweed mats form atop the still waters of lakes and ponds, but can also form in very slow moving rivers and streams. Their presence is an indicator of high levels of minerals and nutrients, which is why they are commonly seen in agricultural and industrial wastewater ponds. Nutrients are absorbed through the underside of the thallus, so the rootlets of duckweeds likely function more for stabilization than for nutrient uptake. As duckweed mats expand and grow dense, they shade the environments below them. John Eastman writes about this phenomenon in The Book of Swamp and Bog: “Thick blankets of duckweed can shade pond bottoms, preventing adequate photosynthesis and making life difficult or impossible for submersed plants and animals…however, this is often a problem of only intermittent duration.” One potential benefit of such dense mats is that they can kill off mosquito larvae. Eastman points out that for this to be the case, the duckweed may need to be accompanied by other surface dwelling plants in order to create dense enough shade.

duckweed 1

Duckweeds overwinter by forming turions, small buds that act as storage organs. Eastman explains the process:

These tiny, kidney-shaped buds detach and immediately sink to the bottom, where they remain all winter. In the spring, each turion expels a gas bubble, which causes it to rise to the surface, where it rapidly develops into a new duckweed thallus. Turion formation requires a combination of bright sunlight and high water temperature.

Duckweeds colonize new areas either by moving downstream (if they have that option) or by finding themselves attached to the fur, feathers, or feet of animals that unwittingly transport them. The common name, duckweed, is likely derived from the fact that it is a major source of food for waterfowl. It is high in protein and rich in nutrients, especially when you factor in all the tiny critters growing on and among it. Muskrats and beavers occasionally eat duckweeds as well. Despite losses from herbivory by these creatures, being made mobile by their moving bodies is a major boon.

A collection of various duckweed species - photo credit: wikimedia commons

A collection of various duckweed species – photo credit: wikimedia commons

Duckweeds are also consumed by various species of fish, which is why they are commonly used as a food source in aquaculture. Frogs and other amphibians as well as various aquatic insects and microinvertebrates also consume duckweeds. The diversity of small animals and protists that use duckweeds and the environments they help create is incredible. Eastman writes:

Duckweed mats host a large variety of small fauna that feed, lay eggs, or shelter amid the plants. Many of them secure themselves to the thallus rootlets or undersides, where they snare and capture passing food organisms or particles. Protozoans, rotifers, insect larvae, and crustaceans are often abundant.

Humans have also been known to eat duckweeds. Duckweed farming is not a simple procedure, but a highly nutritious food source is the result when it can be done. A simpler alternative is to use the harvest as animal feed. Duckweeds are also used in bioremediation and are being considered as a source of biofuel.

Depending on the species, an individual duckweed can vary in width from 10 millimeters to less than 1 millimeter. They truly are tiny wonders of the plant world, and it is worth getting down to their level for a closer look (hand lens recommended).

Additional Resources

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Field Trip: Bruneau Dunes State Park

One of the aims of American Wetlands Month is to encourage people to get out and visit nearby wetlands. I accepted this challenge by visiting the small lakes and marshes of Bruneau Dunes State Park which is located about 20 miles south of Mountain Home, Idaho (or, 70 miles from my house).

The park is known for its enormous sand dunes, claiming the tallest single-structured sand dune in North America which measures about 470 feet. The dunes began forming about 15,000 years ago during the Bonneville Flood. After the flood receded, the dunes continued to grow due to their unique location – a basin in which strong winds approach from both the northwest and the southeast, carrying sand from the surrounding steppes and keeping the dunes in place.

Two small lakes and a marsh are found nestled among the dunes, and the Snake River flows just north of the park. Apart from the dunes and the wetlands, the park also includes desert and prairie habitats and is situated in an extensive conservation area called Morley Nelson Snake River Birds of Prey. If that’s not enough, Bruneau Dunes State Park is home to a public observatory, where visitors can view the night sky and learn more about the stars and our place in the universe.

A marshy entrance to Dunes Lake

A marshy entrance to Dunes Lake

Climbing the sand dunes (and, if you’re up for it, sledding down them) is understandably a popular activity at the park. I spent a decent amount of time on top of the dunes, partly because the view was great and because the mosquitoes seemed to be absent up there. Yes, when visiting a wetland, you are advised to carry mosquito repellent, otherwise the cloud of mosquitoes that will undoubtedly surround you will make for an unpleasant experience. They will also make it difficult to stand still long enough to take a decent picture.

On top of a small dune looking across lake to large dune.

On top of small dune looking across lake to large dune

On top of large dune looking across lake to small dune.

On top of large dune looking across lake to small dune

Traversing the spine of a brontosauras (aka sand dune).

Traversing the spine of a brontosaurus (a.k.a. sand dune)

On top of the sand dune looking down at the lake and marsh.

On top of sand dune looking down at the lake and marsh

The marshes and shores around the lakes were populated with numerous wetland plants, including swamp milkweed (Aesclepias incarnata), duckweed (Lemna minuta), cattails (Typha sp.), and various rushes, sedges, and grasses. Native shrubs were also present, however the dominant woody plants were (unfortunately) introduced species: Russian olive (Elaeagnus angustifolia) and saltcedar (Tamarix chinenesis).

An entrance to the marsh

An entrance to the marsh

Flowers of bullrush (Schoenoplectus sp.)

Flowers of bulrush (Schoenoplectus sp.)

Russian olive (Eleagnus angustifolia)

Russian olive (Elaeagnus angustifolia)

Saltcedar (Tamarix chinensis)

Saltcedar (Tamarix chinensis)

Despite being there to explore and celebrate the wetland, the plants in the adjacent area (which appeared to be growing in almost 100% sand) continued to draw me away. Some I recognized easily, while others I could only identify to genus or couldn’t identify at all. Some notable observations included low lupine (Lupinus pusillus), sand-dune penstemon (Penstemon acuminatus), pale evening primrose (Oenothera pallida), and species in the genera Astragalus, Erigeron, and Eriogonum. Two bunchgrasses were particularly common throughout the area: Indian ricegrass (Achnatherum hymenoides) and needle and thread grass (Hesperostipa comata).

All of these plants are worthy of being photographed; however, the wind makes that difficult to do. Idaho is a windy state, and an area composed of wind-formed sand dunes is particularly windy. Between swarms of mosquitoes and consistent wind, capturing decent photos was a challenge. Aside from those minor nuissances, I had a very enjoyable time and hope to visit again soon.

Phacelia (Phacelia hastata)

Silverleaf phacelia (Phacelia hastata)

Nakedstem sunray (Enceliopsis nudicaulis)

Nakedstem sunray (Enceliopsis nudicaulis)

Have you visited a wetland this month? Or do you plan to? Share your adventures in the comments section below.

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Botany in Popular Culture: Saga of the Swamp Thing

From the swamps of Louisiana comes a fictional character that is entirely composed of vegetation, has the appearance of a monster, and the consciousness of a human. He is called the Swamp Thing. Created by Len Wien and Bernie Wrightson, the Swamp Thing made his first appearance in the ninety-second issue of House of Secrets in 1971. He was then given his own series, which after 19 issues was handed off to up and coming author, Alan Moore.

Moore was an established comic book writer in the United Kingdom, but this was his first time writing for an American imprint. The work Moore did on Swamp Thing left a lasting impact on the comic book industry and helped establish Moore as one of the greatest comic book writers of all time. While Moore wrote more than fifty issues of The Saga of the Swamp Thing, I am narrowing this post down to the first volume, which compiles issues 20 – 27.

SwampFix

When Moore inherited the character, the Swamp Thing was thought to be (and also thought himself to be) the vegetable form of Alec Holland, a scientist who blew himself up while experimenting with a bio-restorative formula he was developing. Because Moore had some plot lines to dispense of before he began his own telling of the story, it only made sense to have the Swamp Thing killed off in the first issue so that he could reveal who or what he really was.

The beginning of issue #21 finds Dr. Jason Woodrue examining the Swamp Thing’s corpse. Woodrue is a villian that goes by the name Floronic Man and is himself a plant-human hybrid. The men who killed the Swamp Thing got Woodrue out of jail so that he could help them do an autopsy. During the autopsy, Woodrue makes a startling discovery: “We thought that the Swamp Thing was Alec Holland, somehow transformed into a plant. It wasn’t. It was a plant that thought it was Alec Holland! A plant that was trying its level best to be Alec Holland.” In the explosion, Holland’s body was completely incinerated, but due to the help of the bio-restorative formula that followed Holland into the swamp, the swamp plants fashioned themselves into a new creature with the form of a man and the consciousness of Holland.

swamp thing 1

The bio-restorative formula is key because it allows the Swamp Thing to regenerate. Woodrue knows this and takes advantage of it. He moves the Swamp Thing’s resting body back to the swamp. Conveniently he finds Abby Cable there, one of the Swamp Thing’s good friends. Woodrue informs her that the Swamp Thing is not Alec Holland, news that is difficult for her to take. As the Swamp Thing awakens, he must also come to terms with the fact that he is not who he thought he was. Meanwhile, Woodrue/Floronic Man harvests and eats a tuberous growth protruding from the Swamp Thing, which enhances his powers to control plant life.

swamp thing 2

Floronic Man is upset with animal life, particularly humans for the collective destruction that they have caused plant life. He is determined to take revenge for the harm that has been done to “The Green.” He causes plants to grow up rapidly and consume buildings and cars and wrap around humans to kill them. Amidst his mayhem he explains his vision of “another green world, as there was at the beginning, before the beasts crawled up out of the oceans. Those long, green centuries where no bird sang, where no dog barked. Where there was no noise! Where there was no screaming meat!!”

The Justice League is called in, but there isn’t much they can do. This is a job for the Swamp Thing who, while wandering through the swamp coming to grips with his new identity, senses trouble in The Green. He then realizes that Floronic Man must be involved, at which point he arrives on the scene and gives Floronic Man a good beating and a stern talking to.

Floronic Man is obsessed with the idea of plants taking over and destroying all other life. He has clearly gone mad, threatening to make the plants “pour out oxygen” so that “all the animals will die.” He is convinced that only plants will remain and that “it’s the only way to save the planet from those creatures.” The Swamp Thing rhetorically asks, “And what will change the oxygen back into the gasses that we need to survive when the men and animals are dead?” That seems to shut Floronic Man up. Schooled by logic, he slowly loses control of the plant life he had recruited to do his dirty work, at which point the Justice League swoops in and picks him up. The Swamp Thing retreats back to the swamp, embracing his new identity – elated to be alive and feeling at home in the swamp.

The final three “chapters” of the book are focused more on Abby. The Swamp Thing is around, and he definitely shows up for some fight scenes, but Moore seems to be working on developing Abby’s character. After all, she and the Swamp Thing have a future together. In one fight scene, a demon rips the Swamp Thing’s arm off. At which point, the Swamp Thing nonchalantly picks up his arm, reattaches it, and resumes fighting the demon.

swamp thing 3

Throughout the book, Moore’s writing and storytelling is exceptional. A brief recap such as this cannot do the book justice. Moore’s prose must be read to be truly appreciated. The Swamp Thing is a fairly minor character in the comic book world, and one of the very few that brings botany to the forefront. Thanks to Moore and the artists that worked with him, Saga of the Swamp Thing gives this great character the exposure and legacy it deserves.

For more authoritative reviews, check out the following links:

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Ethnobotany: Cattails

“If you ever eat cattails, be sure to cook them well, otherwise the fibers are tough and they take more chewing to get the starchy food from them than they are worth. However, they taste like potatoes after you have been eating them for a couple weeks, and to my way of thinking are extremely good.”  – Sam Gribley in My Side of the Mountain by Jean Craighead George

franz

Illustration by Franz Anthony (www.franzanth.com)

Ask anyone to list plants commonly found in American wetlands, and you can guarantee that cattails will make the list nearly every time. Cattails are widespread throughout the Northern Hemisphere. They are so successful, that it is hard to picture a wetland without them. In her book, Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimmerer discusses this well known association:

Cattails grow in nearly all types of wetlands, wherever there is adequate sun, plentiful nutrients, and soggy ground. Midway between land and water, freshwater marshes are among the most highly productive ecosystems on earth, rivaling the tropical rainforest. People valued the supermarket of the swamp for the cattails, but also as a rich source of fish and game. Fish spawn in the shallows; frogs and salamanders abound. Waterfowl nest here in the safety of the dense sward, and migratory birds seek out cattail marshes for sanctuary on their journeys.

The two most abundant species of cattails in North America are Typha latifolia (common cattail) and Typha angustifolia (narrow leaf cattail). T. angustifolia may have been introduced from Europe. The two species also hybridize to form Typha x glauca. There are about 30 species in the genus Typha, and they share the family Typhaceae with just one other genus. The common names for cattail are nearly as abundant as the plant itself: candlewick, water sausage, corn dog plant, cossack asparagus, reedmace, nailrod, cumbungi, etc., etc.

Cattails have long, upright, blade-like leaves. As they approach the base of the plant, the leaves wrap around each other to form a tight bundle with no apparent stem. As Kimmerer puts it, this arrangement enables the plants to “withstand wind and wave action” because “the collective is strong.” Flowers appear on a tall stalk that reaches up towards the tops of the leaves. The inflorescence is composed of hundreds of separate male and female flowers. Male flowers are produced at the top of the stalk and female flowers are found directly below them. In the spring, the male flowers dump pollen down onto the female flowers, and wind carries excess pollen to nearby plants, producing what looks like yellow smoke.

After pollination, the male flowers fade away, leaving the female flowers to mature into a seed head. Just like the flowers, the seeds are small and held tightly together, maintaining the familiar sausage shape. Each seed has a tuft of “hair” attached to it to aid in wind dispersal. In The Book of Swamp and Bog, John Eastman writes about the abundant seeds (“an estimated average of 220,000 seeds per spike”) of cattail: “A quick experiment, one that Thoreau delighted to perform, demonstrates how tightly the dry seeds are packed in the spike – pull out a small tuft and watch it immediately expand to fill your hand with a downy mass.”

cattails bunch

cattail fluff

Because cattails spread so readily via rhizomes, prolific airborne seeds mostly serve to colonize new sites, away from the thick mass of already established cattails. The ability to dominate vast expanses of shoreline gives cattails an invasive quality that often results in attempts at removal. Various human activities may be aiding their success. Regardless, they provide food and habitat to numerous species of insects, spiders, birds, and mammals. A cattail marsh may not be diverse plant-wise, but it is teeming with all sorts of other life.

Ethnobotanically speaking, it is hard to find many other species that have as many human uses as cattails. For starters, nearly every part of the plant is edible at some point during the year. The rhizomes can be consumed year-round but are best from fall to early spring. They can be roasted, boiled, grated, ground, or dried and milled into flour. Starch collected from pounding and boiling the rhizomes can be used as a thickener. In the spring, young shoots emerging from the rhizomes and the tender core of the leaf bundles can be eaten raw or cooked and taste similar to cucumber. Young flower stalks can be boiled and eaten like corn on the cob and taste similar to artichoke. Pollen, which is high in protein, can be mixed with flour and used to make pancakes and baked goods, among other things. The seeds can be ground into flour or pressed to produce cooking oil.

Cattail leaves can be used to make cords, mats, baskets, thatch, and many other things. Kimmerer writes about the excellent wigwam walls and sleeping mats that weaved cattail leaves make:

The cattails have made a suburb material for shelter in leaves that are long, water-repellent, and packed with closed-cell foam for insulation. … In dry weather, the leaves shrink apart from one another and let the breeze waft between them for ventilation. When the rains come, they swell and close the gap, making the [wall] waterproof. Cattails also make fine sleeping mats. The wax keeps away moisture from the ground and the aerenchyma provide cushioning and insulation.

The fluffy seeds make great tinder for starting fires, as well as excellent insulation and pillow and mattress stuffing. The dry flower stalks can be dipped in fat, lit on fire, and used as a torch. Native Americans used crushed rhizomes as a poultice to treat burns, cuts, sores, etc. A clear gel is found between the tightly bound leaves of cattail. Kimmerer writes, “The cattails make the gel as a defense against microbes and to keep the leaf bases moist when water levels drop.” The gel can be used like aloe vera gel to soothe sunburned skin.

Eastman rattles off a number of commercial uses for cattail: “Flour and cornstarch from rhizomes, ethyl alcohol from the fermented flour, burlap and caulking from rhizome fibers, adhesive from the stems, insulation from the downy spikes, oil from the seeds, rayon from cattail pulp, …” To conclude his section on cattails he writes, “With cattails present, one need not starve, freeze, remain untreated for injury, or want for playthings.”

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What Is a Plant, and Why Should I Care? part two

“Organisms green with chlorophyll appeared pretty early in Earth history, diversified, and adapted to oceanic, coastal, and finally terrestrial environments. As this took place, the Earth turned green.” – Joseph E. Armstrong, How the Earth Turned Green

world turned green

The Earth not only turned green, but the composition of its atmosphere dramatically shifted. Thanks in part to photosynthesis, Earth’s atmosphere went from having virtually no free oxygen to being composed of about 21% oxygen. The increasing availability of oxygen helped facilitate the evolution of more and more diverse forms of life. Had photosynthesis (specifically oxygen-producing photosynthesis) never come about, the Earth would not be anything like it is today.

There are organisms in at least three taxonomic kingdoms that have the ability to photosynthesize: Bacteria, Protista, and Plantae. A book itself could be written about how photosynthesis developed and how it differs among organisms. The important thing to note in a discussion about plants is that the type of photosynthesis that occurs in cyanobacteria is the same type that occurs in the chloroplasts of plants and green algae. Additionally, pigments called chlorophyll are only found in cyanobacteria and the chloroplasts of plants and green algae. As Joseph Armstrong puts it in How the Earth Turned Green, “evidence strongly supports the hypothesis that chloroplasts were free-living photosynthetic bacteria that became cellular slaves within a host cell.”

In Part One, we established that green algae are closely related to plants, and that a subset of green algae colonized the land and evolved into modern day plants. Plants are green because of cyanobacteria via green algae; however, cyanobacteria are not plants, and green algae may or may not be plants depending on your preference. Classification is not nearly as important as determining evolutionary relationships.

So, again, what is a plant? K. J. Willis and J. C. McElwain offer this summary in their book, The Evolution of Plants: “Plants are relatively simple organisms with a common list of basic needs (water, carbon dioxide, nitrogen, magnesium, phosphorous, potassium, some trace elements, plus various biochemical pathways necessary for photosynthesis). This list has remained almost unchanged from the first land plants to the present.” In Part One, we also listed three major features that all plants have in common: multicellularity, cell walls that contain cellulose, and the ability to photosynthesize.

Photosynthesis is a big one, because it means that plants make their own food. They are autotrophs/self-feeders/ producers. This sets them apart from heterotrophs, organisms that consume other organisms in order to obtain energy and other essential nutrients. Plants are at the bottom of the food chain, providing energy and nutrients to all other organisms that either directly or indirectly consume them. In Armstrong’s words:

“Eating and being eaten is a fact of life, a process by which the light energy captured by green organisms is passed through a series of consumers, a food chain, before eventually being lost as heat, which dissipates. Everything else is recycled with the able assistance of decomposers, primarily fungi and microorganisms, heterotrophs who obtain their food from dead organisms or their metabolic wastes. A large part of ecology concerns such trophic or feeding interactions, the energy transfers that result, and the cycling of biogeochemicals, the elements of life.”

Their ability to photosynthesize, among other things, gives plants a prominent role in the world’s ecosystems. Much more will be said about that as we continue, but first there are a few other things about plants worth mentioning.

Plants exhibit modular growth. While animals generally produce all of their body parts early on in life and rarely reproduce new body parts in replacement of lost ones, plants can continue to reproduce and replace body parts. Even at maturity, plants maintain embryonic tissues, which allows them to regenerate body parts as needed. This is one reason why so many plants can be propagated asexually via stem, root, and/or leaf cuttings. Roots can be encouraged to grow from unlikely places, and a whole new plant can be produced as a result.

Plants are generally stationary. Rooted in place, they must obtain everything necessary for life, growth, and reproduction by accessing whatever resources are in their immediate vicinity. Roots search the soil for water and other nutrients, and leaves harvest sunlight and carbon dioxide to make sugars. Relationships are maintained with soil fungi to aid in the search for water and nutrients, but otherwise, plants are largely on their own. Since they cannot run or hide, they must stand and fend for themselves when insects and other herbivores come to devour them. They have adapted a variety of chemical and physical defenses to address this.

Despite being largely immobile during their juvenile and adult phases, plants can actually be incredibly mobile during their embryonic stage (or in other words, as seeds/spores/progules). Employing biotic and abiotic resources, seeds and spores can potentially move miles away from their parent plants, enjoying a freedom of movement they will never know again once they put their roots down.

It is estimated that the total number of plant species on the earth today is around 400,000. (For reference, see this BGCI page and this Kew Gardens page. See The Plant List for up to date plant species names.) The first land plants evolved around 450 million years ago. It wasn’t until around 160 million years ago that the first flowering plants appeared, yet about 90% of the plants in existence today fall within this group. How many tens of thousands of species of plants have existed on Earth throughout history? I don’t think we can say. So many have come and gone, while others have radiated into new species. Exploring life that currently exists on this planet is an enormous pursuit on its own; add to that the exploration of life that once existed, and your pursuits become endless.

Sticky purple geranium (Geranium viscosissimum) one species of around species of extant flowering plants.

Sticky purple geranium (Geranium viscosissimum) is just one of more than 350,000 species of extant flowering plants.

At the close of the first chapter of his book, Armstrong highlights eight major historical events that have brought us plants as we know them today: “the origin of life itself, the development of chlorophyll and photosynthesis, the advent of the eukaryotic (nucleated) cell, the development of multicellular organisms, the invasion of land, the development of vascular tissues, the development of seeds, and the development of flowers.”  Consider that a brief synopsis of all we have to cover as we continue to tell the story of plants.