2018: Year in Review

Another year has passed, which means it’s time again for a Year in Review. As I have done in the past, I am including links to a selection of posts that came out in 2018. Most of these posts are part of ongoing series. You can find the rest of the posts from 2018 in the Archives widget on the right side of the screen (or at the bottom of the page if you are viewing this on a mobile device).

Among many memorable happenings this year, the one I feel most compelled to highlight here is a short radio show that a friend and I started doing on Radio Boise, our community radio station. The show is called Boise Biophila, and each week Casey O’Leary and I spend about a minute each talking about something biology or ecology related with the goal of encouraging people to get outside and take a closer look at the natural world around them. After the shows air, I put them up on our Soundcloud page for all to hear for years to come. You can follow us there, as well as on our Facebook page.

Ficus carica via PhyloPic

In the spring of 2018 we set up a Donorbox account, which is a simple way for people who enjoy Awkward Botany and want to see it continue to give us a little financial encouragement. We received several donations at that time, and we are very grateful to those that contributed. But just like public radio or any other organization that would like to receive your support in the form of money, we continue our plea. If Awkward Botany means something to you and you feel compelled to share some of your hard-earned dollars with us, we are happy to receive them and promise to put them to good use.

Donate

Money aside, a major contribution you can make to the success of Awkward Botany is to share it with your friends. Spread the word in conversation, through the postal system, over the phone, or through one or more of the myriad social media platforms. However you choose to share is none of our business. We are just happy that you do.

You are also encouraged to follow our various social media pages: Twitter, Tumblr, and Facebook. Above all, keep reading. We have lots more posts in the works for 2019, and we wouldn’t want you to miss out on the fun. Our appreciation for plants and the natural world is a constant, and we hope you will continue to share in our botany nerd revelry throughout the coming year.

Fragaria vesca via PhyloPic

Book Reviews:

Botany in Popular Culture:

Tiny Plants:

Field Trip:

Eating Weeds:

Two-parters:

Guest Posts:

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Field Trip: Bergius Botanic Garden and Copenhagen Botanical Garden

There are very few downsides to working at a botanical garden, but one of them is that the growing season can be so busy that taking time off to visit other botanical gardens when they are at their peak is challenging. Case in point, my visit to Alaska Botanical Garden last October. Another case in point, this December’s visit to a couple of gardens in Scandinavia.

That’s right, Sierra and I took a long (and much needed) break from work and headed to the other side of the world for some fun in the occasional sun of Denmark and Sweden. While we were there we visited two botanical gardens, one in Stockholm and the other in Copenhagen. Considering we were there in December, we were impressed by how many things we found all around that were still blooming. We were also impressed by how much winter interest there was in the form of seed heads, spent flower stalks, and other plant parts left in place, as opposed to everything being chopped down to the ground as soon as fall arrives (which is often the case in our part of the world). We may not have been there in the warmest or sunniest time of year, but there was still plenty of natural beauty to capture our attention.

Bergius Botanic Garden

The first of the two gardens we visited was Bergius Botanic Garden (a.k.a. Bergianska trädgården) in Stockholm, Sweden. It is located near Stockholm University and the Swedish Museum of Natural History. It was founded in 1791 and moved to its current location in 1885. It was immediately obvious that the gardens were thoughtfully planned out, particularly the systematic beds in which the plants were organized according to their evolutionary relationship to each other. The extensive rock garden, which was a collection of small “mountains” with a series of paths winding throughout, was also impressive. Since we arrived just as the sun was beginning to set, we were happy to find that the Edvard Anderson Conservatory was open where we could explore a whole other world of plants, many more of which were flowering at the time.

Walking into Bergius Botanic Garden with the Edvard Anderson Conservatory in the distance.

Sierra poses with kale, collard, and Brussels sprout trees in the Vegetable Garden.

seed heads of velvetleaf (Abutilon theophrasti)

corky bark of cork-barked elm (Ulmus minor ‘Suberosa’)

pomelo (Citrus maxima) in the Edvard Anderson Conservatory

Camellia japonica ‘Roger Hall’ in the Edvard Anderson Conservatory

carrion-flower (Orbea variegata) in the Edvard Anderson Conservatory

Cape African-queen (Anisodontea capensis) in the Edvard Anderson Conservatory

Copenhgen Botanical Garden

The Copenhagen Botanical Garden (a.k.a. Botanisk have) is a 10 hectare garden that was founded in 1600 and moved to its current location in 1870. It is part of the University of Copenhagen and is located among a series of glasshouses built in 1874, a natural history museum, and a geological museum. Unfortunately, the glasshouses and museums were closed the day we visited, but we still enjoyed walking through the grounds and exploring the various gardens.

A large rock garden, similar to the one at Bergius, was a prominent feature. We learned from talking to a gardener working there that since Denmark is not known for its rich supply of large rocks, most of the rocks in the garden came from Norway. However, a section of the rock garden was built using fossilized coral found in Denmark that dates back to the time that the region was underwater.

Another great feature was the Nordic Beer Garden, a meticulously organized collection of plants used in beer recipes from the time of the Vikings to the Nordic brewers of today. Even though the majority of the plants in this garden were dormant, the interpretive signage and fastidious layout was memorable.

Walking into Copenhagen Botanical Garden with the Palm House in the distance.

lots of little pots of dormant bulbs

seed head of Chinese licorice (Glycyrrhiza echinata)

fruits of Chinese lantern (Physalis alkekengi)

alpine rose (Rhododendron ferrugineum)

Viburnum farreri ‘Nanum’

seed head of rose of Sharon (Hibiscus syriacus)

pods exposing the seeds of stinking iris (Iris foetidissima)

Book Review: What Weeds Are Thinking

Plant intelligence is a burgeoning field of research. Despite being predominantly sessile organisms, plants are able to sense their surroundings and make decisions based on environmental cues. In a certain sense, they can see, hear, smell, and remember even though they don’t have eyes, ears, noses, or brains. Not surprisingly, these fascinating findings have spawned books, podcasts, documentariesarticles, etc. The idea that plants could be intelligent beings like us is something that captures our attention and imagination.

For example, if plants are so smart, does this mean that they actually have thoughts? And if they have thoughts, what could they possibly be thinking? In her new book, What Weeds Are ThinkingErica Crockett takes a stab at what a particularly despised group of plants might think if, indeed, they could have thoughts. Weeds are, in Crockett’s words, “the deviants of the plant world.” This book was her chance to imagine what might be going on inside the minds of these deviants, despite the fact that they don’t have minds.Crockett conjures up the thoughts of 21 different weeds. Each thought is accompanied by an illustration by Sarah Ragan Olson. The drawings are charming, but the thoughts that juxtapose them aren’t always so sweet. Perhaps you imagine weeds to be potty mouthed? Well, so does Crockett. That being said, this book is not for kids, nor is it for anyone sensitive to adult words and themes. Each of the weeds in this book varies in its degree of irreverence – not all of them are so crass and some of them are actually pretty mild-mannered – but that’s just what you’d expect from such a diverse group of plants.

Comfrey is offended by cow manure being used as fertilizer and would rather be fertilized by “the decaying corpses of [its] relations.” Ground ivy is embarrassed and offended by inadvertently seeing the ankles of human passersby.  Plantain is apparently into being stepped on, and prostrate spurge is trying to “rebrand” to make itself more appealing and set itself apart from purslane. Cheatgrass, no surprise here, comes across as a big jerk. Originally from Eurasia, it is now a freedom-loving American, “choking out the rights of the natives.”

Most in line with what I would expect a weed to be thinking – especially one found growing in an urban area – is prickly lettuce. Upset after watching a fellow member of its species ruthlessly dug up, it laments: “Neither of us decided to seed down in the deep crack of this suburban driveway. We were blown here…It’s our home…Yet we are hunted.”

Milkweed is quite aware of its role as the sole food source of the monarch caterpillar. It sees how much humans appreciate monarchs, and admonishes us for killing off its kind: “Keep it up, and I’ll take every last one of those delicate darlings down with me.”

Botanical inaccuracies aside – and there are several – this was a fun book. The main appeal for me is that it is plant-themed and, more specifically, weeds-themed. If you follow this blog, you’ll know that pretty much anything involving weeds is going to get my attention. Beyond that, any project that puts plants in the spotlight and gives them a voice (even in a fictitious sense) is worth checking out. This book is no exception.

As a bonus, I asked Erica Crockett what other plants (apart from weeds) are thinking. This was her response: “Probably really precious or intellectual things. I imagine tomato plants are fairly self-important and zonal geraniums are divas. Bougainvilleas are likely social climbers and oak trees are dull, but honest.”

More Weeds-themed Book Reviews on Awkward Botany:

The Dragon of Yankee Fork: Devil’s Washbasins

This is a guest post by Martha Dalke Hindman. It is an excerpt from her upcoming book, The Dragon of Yankee Fork

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July through September, river water is low, cold, clear.
Four huge, round washbasins appear in an ageless,
Rectangular, horizontal piece of white granite rock.
“Devil’s Washbasins,” at Selway Falls.

Cousin to the domestic Raspberry,
Thimbleberries grow along the river bank.
White blossoms, no thorns, broad indented leaves,
Red berries, a bit of sugar, delectable desert.

thimbleberry (Rubus parviflorus)

Long shadows on the dusty, winding road, from Race Creek to Selway Falls, made driving a challenge. Kaye and I stopped at Selway Falls to rest and look into “The Devil’s Washbasins.” Although the Falls are not particularly high, only 25 feet, the sound of the water cascading over timeless, granite boulders, into the river below, creates a world unto itself.

A cream colored car with Oregon license plates slowed to a stop. A man and woman stepped out. I smiled and asked if I could be of assistance.

“Can you tell us WHERE Selway Falls is,” the gentleman asked. “There is no marker.”

“Selway Falls is right here,” I explained. “Do you hear the rushing, tumbling water?”

“But, but! That is just a pile of rocks!!” The gentleman exclaimed. “We expected to see falls like Multnomah Falls near Portland, Oregon.”

“I am sorry you are so disappointed.” I said. I explained that waterfalls the height and size of Multnomah are not found in this particular part of the country. “If you care to stop at Fenn Ranger Station, I am sure the ranger on duty can give you more detailed information about the falls. You will see a large sign reading, ‘Fenn Ranger Station, Nez Perce National Forest’, as you return to the blacktop portion of the road.”

Thoroughly disillusioned and disgusted, the couple returned to their car and drove away in a cloud of dust!

“Devil’s Washbasins” is this author’s name for four giant bowls in white Granite rock at the bottom of Selway Falls on the Selway River, Nez Perce-Clearwater National Forest. The bowls created by centuries of water, can only be observed when the river water is low, usually after the 4th of July and until snow covers the forest. Observe the calm pool at the top of the falls. Enjoy the water’s music and beauty. Help to preserve its Integrity.

“Selway Falls technically is not a falls. It is called a ‘cataract.’ This occurred when the North side of the mountain slid into the river. The flow of the water found ways to continue its journey to the sea. Small pools formed, the water moved around boulders 30 feet in diameter, as well as over and under downed trees, submerged logs, smaller rocks and debris. The water level fluctuates from 23 feet to 32 feet, dependent upon the winter’s snowpack in the mountains and the spring run off.“ [Columbia River Fisheries Development Program, February 1, 1967, STATE OF IDAHO, Fish and Game Department, John R. Woodworth, Director. Pages not numbered.]

A FOREST CHASM

I looked into the Chasm

Of Selway Falls

Late one Summer afternoon.

Four irregular washbasins

In one piece of Granite

Basked In the Summer Sun

Waiting for—

The Seasons to change

Fall, Winter, Spring.

Who comes to drink

From these four washbasins?

Only the River

And the forest

Animals know.

We humans can

Only Imagine!

Resources:

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Poetry, personal stories, images, journal entries, recipes for Springerle, Cinnamon Rolls, Fried Cakes, “a little bit of science thrown in for good measure,” print and online resources, all define “The Dragon of Yankee Fork,” an Idaho Alphabet from A to Z. It all began on a long piece of cream colored shelf paper! (Visit the Go Fund Me page to learn more about the project and contribute to its creation.)

Martha Dalke Hindman’s outdoor classroom was the travel adventures she shared with her father around the State of Idaho. From dusty roads, fishing expeditions, and a keen sense of observation, learning about Idaho’s Heritage gave Ms. Hindman her voice in poetry and personal short stories. She may be reached at martha20022 [at] gmail [dot] com.

Field Trip: UBC Botanical Garden and VanDusen Botanical Garden

Last week, we found ourselves in Vancouver, British Columbia for a work-related conference put on by American Public Gardens Association. In addition to learning heaps about plant collections and (among other things) the record keeping involved in maintaining such collections, we got a chance to visit two Vancouver botanical gardens. Both gardens were pretty big, so covering the entire area in the pace we generally like to go in the time that was allotted was simply not possible. Still, we were smitten by what we were able to see and would happily return given the chance. What follows are a few photos from each of the gardens.

UBC Botanical Garden

UBC Botanical Garden is located at the University of British Columbia. Established in 1916, it is Canada’s oldest university botanical garden. We saw a small fraction of the Asian Garden, which is expansive, and instead spent most of our time in other areas, including the Alpine Garden, the Carolinian Forest Garden, the Food Garden, and one of my favorite spots, the BC Rainforest Garden. The Rainforest Garden is a collection of plants native to British Columbia, which was the original focus of UBC Botanical Garden’s first director, John Davidson.

fall foliage of redvein enkianthus (Enkianthus campanulatus)

Franklin tree in bloom (Franklinia alatamaha) in the Carolinian Forest Garden

alpine troughs

bellflower smartweed (Aconogonon campanulatum)

cutleaf smooth sumac (Rhus glabra ‘Laciniata’) in the BC Rainforest Garden

the fruits of Gaultheria pumila in the E.H. Lohbrunner Alpine Garden

Himalayan blueberry (Vaccinium moupinense) in the E.H. Lohbrunner Alpine Garden

VanDusen Botanical Garden

VanDusen Botanical Garden is a 55 acre garden that opened in 1975 and is located on land that was once a golf course. It features an extensive collection of plants from around the world accompanied by a series of lakes and ponds as well as lots of other interesting features (like a Scottish Shelter, a Korean Pavilion, an Elizabethan Maze, and more). Our time there was far too brief. The whirlwind tour we joined, led by the education director, was a lot of fun, and if the threat of missing our bus wasn’t looming, we would have been happy to stay much longer.

Japanese anemone (Anemone x hybrida ‘Whirlwind’)

fall color on the shore of Heron Lake

knees of bald cypress (Taxodium distichum) in R. Roy Forster Cypress Pond

witch hazel (Hamamelis x intermedia ‘Pallida’)

a grove of giant redwoods (Sequoiadendron giganteum)

We tried the fruit of dead man’s fingers (Decaisnea insignis). It tastes a bit like watermelon.

Japanese stewartia (Stewartia pseudocamellia)

More Awkward Botany Field Trips:

Botany in Popular Culture: The Tan Hua Flowers in Crazy Rich Asians

When a flower blooms, a celebration is in order. Flowers abound for much of the year, which means parties are called for pretty much non-stop (something Andrew W.K. would surely endorse). Since we can’t possibly celebrate every bloom, there are certain plants we have decided to pay more attention to – plants whose flowers aren’t so prolific, predictable, or long-lived; or plants whose flowers come infrequently or at odd times of the day (or night).

This is the case with the flowers of the night blooming cactus, Epiphyllum oxypetalum, which goes by many names including Dutchman’s pipe cactus, queen of the night, orchid cactus, night blooming cereus, and tan hua. Tan hua is the Chinese name for the plant, and this is how it is referred to in the book, Crazy Rich Asians by Kevin Kwan.

In the book, Nick Young brings his American girlfriend, Rachel Chu, to meet his ridiculously wealthy family in Singapore. Before the trip, Rachel was in the dark about the Young’s wealth. She first meets the family and their gargantuan mansion when Nick’s grandma, seeing that her tan hua flowers are about to bloom, throws an impromptu (and lavish) party. Nick refers to the flowers as “very rare,” blooming “extremely infrequently,” and “quite something to witness.”

In a seperate conversation, Nick’s cousin, Astrid, tries to convince her husband to attend the party by claiming, “it’s awfully good luck to see the flowers bloom.” Later, another one of Nick’s cousins tells Rachel, “it’s considered to be very auspicious to witness tan huas blooming.”

Tan hua (Epiphyllum oxypetalum) via wikimedia commons

Native to Mexico and Guatemala, E. oxypetalum was first brought to China in the 1600’s. Its beauty and intrigue along with its relative ease of cultivation helped it become popular and widespread across Asia and other parts of the world. Watching it bloom is considered a sacred experience by many, including in India, where it is said to bring luck and prosperity to households who are fortunate enough to see theirs bloom.

Epiphyllums are epiphytic, meaning they grow non-parasitically on the surfaces of other plants, such as in the crevices of bark or the crotches of branches. Like other cacti, they are essentially leafless, but their stems are broad, flat, and leaf-like in appearance. Showy, fragrant flowers are born along the margins of stems. The flowers of tan hua, as described in Crazy Rich Asians, appear as “pale reddish petals curled tightly like delicate fingers grasping a silken white peach.” A report (accompanied by photos) published by Sacred Heart University describes watching tan hua flowers progess from bud formation to full bloom, a process that took more than two weeks.

Tan huas are certainly not rare, as Nick described them. A number of Epiphyllum species and their hybrids are commonly cultivated; there is even an Epiphyllum Trail at San Diego Zoo’s Safari Park. Listed as “least concern” on the IUCN Red List, their popularity as ornamentals is noted but is not seen as affecting wild populations. Night blooming plants, while fascinating, aren’t all that rare either. Such plants have adapted relationships with creatures, like bats and moths, that are active during the night, employing their assistance with pollination. A paper published in Plant Systematics and Evolution describes the floral characteristics of Epiphyllum and similar genera: “The hawkmoth-flower syndrome, consisting of strongly-scented, night-blooming flowers with white or whitish perianths and long slender nectar-containing floral tubes is present in Cereus, Trichocereus, Selenicereus, Discocactus, Epiphyllum, and a number of other cactus genera.”

That being said, the specialness of a short-lived, infrequent, night blooming flower should not be understated, and really, parties being thrown in honor of any plant are something I can certainly get behind. Sitting in the courtyard late at night, the Young family and their guests watched as “the tightly rolled petals of the tan huas unfurled like a slow-motion movie to reveal a profusion of feathery white petals that kept expanding into an explosive sunburst pattern.” The look of it reminds Astrid of “a swan ruffling its wings, about to take flight.”

Later, “the tan huas began to wilt just as swiftly and mysteriously as they had bloomed, filling the night air with an intoxicating scent as they shriveled into spent lifeless petals.”

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Additional Resources:

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*Thank you Kathy for letting me borrow your Kindle so that I could write this post.

Awkward Botanical Sketches #2: The Dear Data Edition

In this special edition of Awkward Botanical Sketches, I took some inspiration from a book called Dear Data by Giorgia Lupi and Stefanie Posavec. In this book, two friends separated by an ocean chose something about their lives to collect data on every week for a year, then they exchanged the data they collected via weekly postcards. They did this by drawing out a representation of their data on the front of the postcard, along with a key to the drawing on the back. It seemed like a fun thing to do, so I decided to try it. Rather than mailing my postcards to someone across the sea, I am sharing them here.

My ability to creatively present the data I collected pales in comparison to Lupi and Posavec, but I had fun giving it a shot. Most importantly, it satisfied my quest to draw more. This first postcard is all about the weeds I came across in a week.

Weeds Identified in a Week, front side

Weeds Identified in a Week, back side

Whenever I listen to music I make a mental note of any botanical references made in the lyrics. I generally don’t do anything with these mental notes – unless, of course, I’m writing something about them (see this Botany in Popular Culture post, for example) – but this time I did. Saturday was a particularly busy day because I was listening to a lot of Ghost Mice.

Botanical References in Songs, front side

Botanical References in Songs, back side

My obvious obssesion with weeds and my intention to write a weeds-themed book someday – plus my career as a horticulturist – means that I frequently find myself involved in activities and conversations involving weeds. I wasn’t exactly sure how to track that, so this is my lousy attempt at doing so. In case you’re wondering what I was up to on Saturday (the big, blue circle), this tweet and Instagram post should help explain things.

Weeds in Conversations and Activities, front side

Weeds in Conversations and Activities, back side

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Further Reading: Review of Dear Data in The Guardian