2022: Year in Review

It’s time to look back on 2022. But before we do that, I have to acknowledge that January 2023 marks Awkward Botany’s 10 year anniversary. This time ten years ago, I was drafting the introductory post to this blog. Obviously, a lot has happened since then, yet it still seems like yesterday somehow. And while I may not be posting with the frequency that I once was, I’m still at it, and I don’t plan on stopping any time soon. There is so much we have yet to cover. I feel like we’ve barely scratched the surface of what the world of plants has to offer. If you’d like to look back on what I’ve written about over the years, these Year in Review posts are a good place to start, which I’ve been posting each year since Awkward Botany turned one. Looking forward, expect more of the same, which if you’re into plants as much as me, should be enough to keep your attention. If you’re not into plants, I’m not sure why you’re here, but since you are, I hope that what I share might change your mind. Either way, here’s to another 10 years!

Awkward Botany Turns 10!

Perhaps the most eventful thing that happened in 2022, as far as the blog goes, was my appearance on Outdoor Idaho where I got to sing the praises of weeds and the role they play as members of our wild flora. You can expect the weeds talk to continue, especially since Western Society of Weed Science’s Annual Meeting is coming to Boise later this winter. Perhaps I’ll see you there! Oh, and speaking of annual meetings, Botany is coming to Boise this summer, so please feel free to say hello if you’re coming to town.

As per usual, I have a head full of ideas and plans for the upcoming year, and I am hopeful that it will be one of the best yet. But I will spare you from having to trudge through that whirlwind, and instead I’ll just say thank you for being here. Thanks for your comments, shares, follows, and the other ways you show your support. If you’d like to continue doing so, by all means, please do. If you’re new here and you’d like to start, all relevant links are in the link tree below. Happy 2023 everyone!

Awkward Botany Linktree

And now…

A Selection of Posts from 2022

Winter Trees and Shrubs

Book Reviews

Weeds of Boise

Eating Weeds

Randomly Selected Botanical Terms

Guest Posts

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2017: Year in Review

Awkward Botany turns 5 years old this month! 

In the five years since I first introduced myself I have had the pleasure of sharing my writing and photos with thousands of people. Together we have formed a tiny community of nature lovers, botany nerds, and phytocurious folks. It has been fun seeing the audience grow and our interactions increase. The World Wide Web is a crowded and chaotic place, and you can never be sure what will come of the pieces of you that you throw at it. Luckily, my little project has not gone completely unnoticed. The crowd that enjoys it may be small, but it is composed of a solid group of people. Thank you for being one of those people.

If you were following along in 2017, you are well aware that weeds and invasive species have been regular themes. Both of these topics are still obsessions of mine, so while I don’t have plans to continue to saturate the blog with such posts, I will still be writing about them. I’m actually working on a larger project involving weeds, which you can read more about here.

Speaking of which, I have threatened a couple of times now to interrupt my weekly posting schedule in order to make time for other projects. So far that hasn’t really happened, but this year I am fairly certain that it will. It’s the only way that I am going to be able get around to working on things I have been meaning to work on for years. There are also some new things in the works. I think these things will interest you, and I am excited to share them with you as they develop. Once you see them for yourself, I’m sure you’ll forgive the reduced posting schedule.

One thing I have resolved to do this year is learn to draw. I love botanical illustrations, and I have always been envious of the artistic abilities of others. My drawing skills are seriously lacking, but a little practice might help improve that. While it is bound to be a source of embarrassment for me, I have decided to post my progress along the way. So even if you have less to read here, you will at least get to check out some of my dumb drawings. Like this one:

Drawing of a dandelion with help from Illustration School: Let’s Draw Plants and Small Creatures by Sachiko Umoto

One of my favorite things this year has been Awkward Botany’s new Facebook page. With Sierra’s help, we have finally joined that world. Sierra has been managing the page and is the author of most of the posts, and she is doing an incredible job. So if you haven’t visited, liked, and followed, please do. And of course, the invitation still stands for the twitter and tumblr pages, as well.

Lastly, as I have done in the past I am including links to posts from 2017 that were part of ongoing series. These and all other posts can be found in the Archives widget on the right side of the screen. During the summer I did a long series about weeds called Summer of Weeds, the conclusion of which has a list of all the posts that were part of that series. Thank you again for reading and following along. Happy botanizing and nature walking in 2018. I hope you all have a plant filled year.

Book Reviews:

Podcast Review:

Poisonous Plants: 

Drought Tolerant Plants:

Field Trips:

Guest Posts:

2016: Year in Review

2016 was another busy year at Awkward Botany headquarters. A major highlight was the response I received from the Help Wanted announcement that I posted early last year. Several people expressed interest in writing guest posts, while several others volunteered to help out in other ways (contributing images, illustrations, logos, etc.). The offer still stands, so please be in touch if you would like to contribute in any way.

Speaking of being in touch, the comments I’ve received and the connections I’ve made through social media and beyond really add to the experience of doing this blog. Not only does it make this more of a conversation, but it is greatly motivating to know that people find this to be a valuable and entertaining resource. Thank you to all who have reached out. And thanks to silent observers as well. Let’s stay in touch.

As I have done in the past, I am including a list of some of the posts from this past year, mainly those that are part of ongoing series. Many posts don’t fall within these categories, so all others can be found in the ‘Archives’ widget on the right side of the screen.

Book Reviews:

Poisonous Plants:

Famous Botanists in History:

Drought Tolerant Plants:

Field Trips:

Ethnobotany:

Botany in Popular Culture:

Tiny Plants:

Rare and Endangered Plants

Podcast Review:

Guest Posts:

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

Along with the great guest posts, I also received Awkward Botany logos from three incredible artists/graphic designers. I loved them all, and I am very thankful for the time and talent that was spent creating them. The logos are featured below. In order of appearance they were created by Franz Anthony, Mesquite Cervino, and Mara McCall. If you have an idea for an Awkward Botany logo, please let me know. I would love to see it.

ab_logo_brown2

ablogo_cropped-with-black-border-2

awkward-botany-logo_ny

And now a heads up…

In the coming months I plan to focus most of my posts on “weeds” and invasive species. These are topics that I have found increasingly intriguing, so I am hoping that writing a long series of posts about them will help satisfy my curiosity. This may or may not be your thing, but I hope you will stick around regardless. I plan to continue to include some guest posts, which will hopefully help break up the monotony. Also, I know I said this last year and it didn’t actually happen, but I will most likely be taking some breaks from my weekly publishing schedule in order to work on some other projects. Those projects and more will be revealed at some point in time, along with other ideas I have rolling around in my head. If the thought of me taking breaks from posting here bothers you, I invite you to join me on twitter and tumblr, where I will continue to post random things regularly.

Until then, I wish you all a splendid 2017. It should be an interesting one, so buckle up.

Yucca in the snow at Idaho Botanical Garden in Boise, Idaho

Yucca in the snow at Idaho Botanical Garden in Boise, Idaho

2015: Year in Review

Raise your glass. 2015 has come to a close, and Awkward Botany is turning three. Two great reasons to celebrate.

I started the year with the goal of posting at least once per week. Consider that goal accomplished, with a couple of bonus posts thrown in for good measure. I had also deemed 2015 the “Year of Pollination.” The underlying purpose was to teach myself more about pollinators and pollination while also sharing my interest in pollination biology with the wider world. That endeavor yielded 17 posts. There is still so much to learn, but we are making some headway. I started two new series of posts (Poisonous Plants and Botany in Popular Culture) and I continued with two others (Ethnobotany and Drought Tolerant Plants). I also went on a couple of field trips and wrote a few book reviews. All of that is reflected below in “Table of Contents” fashion.

Year of Pollination:

Botany in Popular Culture

Poisonous Plants

Ethnobotany

Drought Tolerant Plants

Book Reviews

Field Trips

Three posts that perhaps didn’t get the attention they deserve:

juniper in the snow

Going forward, I will continue to post regularly – as there is no shortage of plant-related things to write about – but I will likely take a week off here and there. I have other projects in mind – some related to Awkward Botany, some not – that will certainly demand much of my attention and time. I have some big ideas for Awkward Botany and beyond, and I will share those with the wide world in due time. For now, I would just like to say thanks all for reading, for commenting, and for sharing Awkward Botany with your friends. Overall, it has been a great year here at Awkward Botany headquarters, and I have you to thank for that. I feel privileged to be part of a community that is infatuated with plants and is fascinated by the natural world.

Good riddance to 2015. It was good, but it gets better. Now we look ahead to 2016. May it be filled with peace, love, and botany.

Drought Tolerant Plants: Rabbitbrush

Gardener seeking shrub. Must be drought tolerant. Must have year-round interest. Must be easy to grow and maintain. Preferably flowers in late summer or early fall. Must be attractive – not just to humans, but to wildlife as well. Serious inquiries only.

My answer to a solicitation such as this would be rabbitbrush. While there may be other perfectly acceptable plants that fit this description, I think rabbitbrush deserves major consideration. It’s easy to grow and can be kept looking attractive throughout the year. When it is flush with vibrant, golden-yellow flowers at the close of summer, it not only becomes the star of the garden visually, but also a savior to pollinators readying themselves for winter. Plus, it requires little to no supplemental water, making it a true dry garden plant.

There are many species that go by the common name rabbitbrush. The two that I am most familiar with are Ericameria nauseosa (rubber or gray rabbitbrush) and Chrysothamnus viscidiflorus (green or yellow rabbitbrush). Both of these species are native to western North America, and both have a number of naturally occurring varieties and subspecies.

Rubber rabbitbrush - Ericameria nauseosa

Rubber rabbitbrush – Ericameria nauseosa

Rubber rabbitbrush is a densely branched shrub that reaches an average height of 3 feet. Its leaves are slender and numerous, and its stems and leaves are covered in short, white, felt-like hairs giving the plant a light gray appearance. Native Americans used the flexible branches of this plant to weave baskets. They also made a tea from the stems to treat coughs, colds, chest pains, and toothaches. Bundles of branches were burned to smoke animal hides. The stems and roots contain a latex sap, and certain Native American tribes are said to have used this sap as chewing gum, possibly to relieve hunger or thirst. A rubber shortage during World War II led to investigations into extracting the latex from rabbitbrush. This idea was soon abandoned once it was determined that even if every rabbitbrush in the West were to be harvested, the resulting increase in rubber would be modest compared to other sources.

Green rabbitbrush is typically smaller than rubber rabbitbrush, reaching a maximum height of about 3 feet. Its stems and leaves appear similar to rubber rabbitbrush except they lack the dense, white hairs and are brown and green respectively. Also, the stems and leaves of green rabbitbrush have a stickiness to them, and the leaves are often twisted or curled.

Rabbitbrush is a member of the sunflower family (Asteraceae). Plants in this family generally have inflorescences that are a combination of ray and disk flowers (or florets) clustered tightly together and arranged in such a way that the inflorescence appears as a single flower. Consider sunflowers, for example. What appear to be petals around the outside of a large flower are actually a series of individual ray flowers, and in the center are dozens of disk flowers. Both rubber and green rabbitbrush lack ray flowers, and instead their inflorescences are clusters of 5 or so disk flowers that are borne at the tips of each branch creating a sheet of yellow-gold flowers that covers the shrub. Native Americans used these flowers to make dyes.

The fruits of rabbitbrush are achenes with small tufts of hairs attached. Each achene contains one seed. The tuft of hair (or pappus) helps disseminate the seed by way of the wind. Many of the fruits remain attached to the plant throughout the winter, providing winter interest and food for birds.

As rabbitbrush ages it can become gangly, floppy, or simply too large for the site. This can be avoided easily by cutting the plant back by a third or more each fall or spring, which will result in a more manageable form. It can also be cut back nearly to the ground if it is getting too big.

Seed heads of rubber rabbit brush (Ericameria nauseosa)

Seed heads of rubber rabbit brush (Ericameria nauseosa)

The leaves, flowers, stems, and seeds provide food for a variety of animals including birds, deer, and small mammals. The plant itself can also provide cover for small mammals and birds. Oh, and did I mention that it’s a pollinator magnet. It has wildlife value, it’s drought tolerant, it’s easy to maintain, and overall, it’s a beautiful plant. What more could you ask for in a shrub?

More Drought Tolerant Plant posts at Awkward Botany:

Fernbush

Blue Sage

Prickly Pears

Water Efficient Landscape at Idaho State Capitol Building

Desert Willow

The photos in this post were taken at Idaho Botanical Garden in Boise, Idaho.

Why Awkward? Why Botany? Why Now?

Have you ever wondered why this blog is called Awkward Botany? I have. Naming things can be difficult, and there are days that I question whether Awkward Botany was the right choice and if instead another name would have been more appropriate. Most days I am happy with the name, but I also perceive that there might be questions about where it came from and what it means. Or maybe no one cares? Either way, I figured I would start the year off by putting this out there. It may or may not be of interest to anyone, but so be it. Rest assured that regular programming will resume shortly.

Why Awkward?

Awkward is a word that best describes my general state of being. I am uncomfortable in virtually all social situations. The degree to which discomfort manifests itself varies depending on the circumstances, but it is always there. Anxious is another fitting word to describe me. On the surface I may appear calm and collected, but my mind is constantly racing. It’s hard to relax.

I am a high level introvert, and there was a time when this really bothered me. I didn’t like feeling so shy, nervous, and bumbling. I didn’t like that my voice got shaky every time I talked in front of a group of two or more people (no matter how well I knew them). I wanted to be able to make a phone call or start up a conversation without first having to rehearse what I was going to say a dozen times in my head. I envied people who could socialize so freely and who could dance like no one was watching even when plenty of people were. I saw my shell as a curse and thought I was defective because of it.

These feelings haven’t gone away, but they have waned. In my adult years I have grown to accept, even embrace, my awkwardness and introversion. I’m not particularly thrilled about being this way, but I find ways to celebrate it. Claiming the awkward title is one way that I do that. It is nothing to be ashamed of, despite at times feeling shamed for it. Just acknowledging that fact makes tiptoeing out of my comfort zone that much easier.

Awkward can also mean amateurish or inexpert. I am a degree holding and professional horticulturist and I have taken a number of graduate level plant science courses, but I certainly don’t claim to be an expert botanist. I am passionate about botany, and I love to study and explore it, but I am not on the same level as professional botanists. I could be someday, but that isn’t really the point. I would rather illuminate the amateur aspect, the part an enthusiast can play, the role of the citizen scientist…or citizen botanist in this case. The point being that anyone can join in the conversation regardless of their credentials; all that is required is passion, enthusiasm, and a willingness to learn (and to admit when you’re wrong). That is why I have settled on the tagline, “citizen botany for the phytocurious.” Perhaps this approach will inspire other awkward entities to emerge, like awkward history, awkward herpetology, awkward astronomy, awkward linguistics… Just a thought.

Why Botany?

I am unapologetically obsessed with plants. It is not something I fully realized about myself until I was in my twenties; still it feels like it must be in my DNA. I spend significant portions of each day thinking about plants, reading about plants, writing about plants, and working with plants. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. If I am this taken by plants, then why not botany?

But why should people care about plants? Those who already find themselves fascinated by them don’t really need an answer to this question, and the space it would take to enumerate the myriad reasons why plants matter is more than I want to take up in a single post. Suffice it to say that if plants were not around, we would not be around. And if the vital functions of plants don’t convince you to care, just imagine a world without green things and ask yourself if that’s a world you’d want to live in. Dr. Chris Martine, a professor of botany at Bucknell University, defends botany famously in an article he wrote for the Huffington Post last summer.

Why Now?

This is a nebulous question, and I could take it in several directions. To simplify things I will address this line of inquiry: why am I blogging now, rather than expressing myself using some other medium (or none at all)?

When I was in the 7th grade, I discovered that I like to write. It feels wired into my DNA the same way my interest in plants does. I have been writing regularly ever since. At first it was just poetry, short stories, and song lyrics. Then when I was in my teenage years, I discovered punk rock and along with that fanzines, or zines for short. I had been envisioning something similar to zines before I knew about them, so once I came across them, I knew that I had to make one. Over the course of about 17 years, I produced at least 66 zines under 9 different titles. My two main titles were Elephant Mess and The Juniper. While I haven’t completely given up on zine writing, I have been on hiatus for about two years now.

juniper 16_edit 2

My hiatus is largely due to the expense of doing zines (photocopies, postage, office supplies, etc.) and the markedly reduced interest in them (a PO Box full of mail used to be a fairly common sight for me; now it never happens). So I blog instead. I hesitate to compare blogs to zines, though. For a seasoned zinester like me, that feels blasphemous. But there are clearly some similarities, and now that the internet has become nearly ubiquitous, for someone who likes to write and publish content regularly, blogs seem like the way to go.

But I don’t see this blog as the end goal either. I love to write, and I have long wanted to be a writer. Maintaining a blog doesn’t necessarily mean I’m on the road to a successful writing career, but it certainly doesn’t hurt. For now, Awkward Botany is where I hang my hat, and I am more than happy to call it home.