cheatgrass

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Getting to Know a Grass – Basic Anatomy and Identification

Have you ever tried to identify a grass? Most of us who like to look at plants and learn their names will probably admit that we often give up on grasses pretty quickly, or just ignore them entirely. They aren’t the easiest plants to identify to species, and there are so many of them. Without close inspection, they can all look pretty similar. Their flowers aren’t particularly showy, and their fruits are fairly forgettable. They are strands or clumps of green that create a backdrop for more intriguing forms of vegetation. Yet, they are among the most ecologically and economically important groups of plants on the planet. And actually, if you can ascend the hurdles that come with getting to know them, they are beautiful organisms and really quite amazing.

Kōura in the Grass

The grass family – Poaceae – consists of nearly 8oo genera and about 12,000 species. Grasses occur in a wide range of habitats across the globe. Wherever you are on land, a grass is likely nearby. Grasses play vital roles in their ecosystems and, from a human perspective, are critical to life as we know it. We grow them for food, use them for building materials and fuel, plant them as ornamentals, and rely on them for erosion control, storm water management, and other ecosystem services. We may not acknowledge their presence most of the time, but we very likely wouldn’t be here without them.

The sheer number of grass species is one thing that makes them so difficult to identify. Key identifying features of grasses and grass-like plants (also known as graminoids) tend to be very small and highly modified compared to similar features on other flowering plants. This requires using a hand lens and learning a whole new vocabulary in order to begin to understand a grass’s anatomy. It’s a time commitment that goes beyond a lot of other basic plant identification, and it’s a learning curve that few dare to follow. However, once you learn the basic features, it becomes clear that grasses are relatively simple organisms, and once you start identifying them, it can actually be an exciting and rewarding experience.

Quackgrass (Elymus repens) and Its Rhizome

Depending on the species, grasses can be annuals – completing their life cycle within a single year – or perennials – coming back year after year for two or more years. Most grasses have a fibrous root system; some are quite shallow and simple while others are extremely deep and extensive. Some species of perennial grasses spread by either rhizomes (underground stems), stolons (horizontal, above ground stems), or both. Some grasses also produce tillers, which are essentially daughter plants that form at the base of the plant. The area where roots, rhizomes, stolons, and tillers meet the shoots and leaves of a grass plant is called the crown. This is an important region of the plant, because it allows for regrowth even after the plant has been browsed by a grazing animal or mown down by a lawn mower.

The stem or shoot of a grass is called a culm. Leaves are formed along the lengths of culms, and culms terminate in inflorescences. Leaves originate at swollen sections of the culm called nodes. They start by wrapping around the culm and forming what is called a leaf sheath. Leaves of grasses are generally long and narrow with parallel venation – a trait typical of monocotyledons. The part of the leaf that extends away from the culm is called the leaf blade or lamina. Leaves are alternatively arranged along the length of the stem and are two-ranked, meaning they form two distinct rows opposite of each other along the stem.

The area where the leaf blade meets the leaf sheath on the culm is called the collar. This collar region is important for identifying grasses. With the help of a hand lens, a closer look reveals the way in which the leaf wraps around the culm (is it open or closed?), whether or not there are hairs present and what they are like, if there are auricles (small flaps of leaf tissue at the top of the collar), and what the ligule is like. The ligule is a thin membrane (sometimes a row of hairs) that forms around the culm where the leaf blade and leaf sheath intersect. The size of the ligule and what its margin is like can be very helpful in identifying grasses.

The last leaf on the culm before the inflorescence is called the flag leaf, and the section of the culm between the flag leaf and the inflorescence is called a peduncle. Like the collar, the flower head of a grass is where you’ll find some of the most important features for identification. Grass flowers are tiny and arranged in small groupings called spikelets. In general, several dozen or hundreds of spikelets make up an inflorescence. They can be non-branching and grouped tightly together at the top of the culm, an inflorescence referred to as a spike, or they can extend from the tip of the culm (or rachis) on small branches called pedicels, an inflorescence referred to as a raceme. They can also be multi-branched, which is the most common form of grass inflorescence and is called a panicle.

Either way, you will want to take an even closer look at the individual spikelets. Two small bracts, called glumes, form the base of the spikelet. Above the glumes are a series of florets, which are enclosed in even smaller bracts – the outer bract being the lemma and the inner bract being the palea. Certain features of the glumes, lemmas, and paleas are specific to a species of grass. This includes the way they are shaped, the presence of hairs, their venation, whether or not awns are present and what the awns are like, etc. If the grass species is cleistogamous – like cheatgrass – and the florets never open, you will not get a look at the grass’s sex parts. However, a close inspection of an open floret is always a delight. A group of stamens protrude from their surrounding bracts bearing pollen, while feathery stigmas reach out to collect the pollen that is carried on the wind. Depending on the species, an individual grass floret can have either only stamens, only pistils (the stigma bearing organs), or both. Fertilized florets form fruits. The fruit of a grass is called a caryopsis (with a few exceptions) and is indistinguishable from the seed. This is because the seed coat is fused to the wall of the ovary, unlike other fruit types in which the two are separate and distinct.

If all this doesn’t make you want to run outside and take a close look at some grasses, I don’t know what will. What grasses can you identify in your part of the world? Let me know in the comment section below or check out the linktree and get in touch by the means that suits you best.

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What Is Cheatgrass and Why Should I Care?

To understand the current state of rangeland wildfires in the Intermountain West, you must first familiarize yourself with a plant commonly referred to as cheatgrass. This annual grass moved into the region over a century ago, and its spread has had a massive impact on the environment, as well as the economy and our way of life. Just the very mention of cheatgrass in the West will get some people’s blood boiling. It’s a menace, a scourge, a pest, and yet it’s here to stay. It’s a result of us being here, yet somehow it’s the invader. Its success is largely due to the way we’ve chosen to operate in this region, yet it’s the one to blame for our troubles. When you really start to learn about this plant, it’s hard not to develop an appreciation for it, despite the tragic ways in which it has shaped our region for the worse. It’s not a plant that is showy or grandiose in any significant way. Everything about its appearance screams for it to be dismissed and overlooked, yet it’s story – at least here in the American West – is larger than life.

cheatgrass (Bromus tectorum) – illustration credit: Selected Weeds of the United States, Agriculture Handbook No. 366 (ARS/USDA)

Bromus tectorum goes by more than a dozen common names, but the ones you tend to hear most often are downy brome and cheatgrass. Downy because of how fuzzy its leaf blades can be and cheat because its presence on wheat farms cheats farmers of their yield. It is distributed widely across Europe, eastern Asia, and northern Africa where it originates, and was introduced to North America in the mid-19th century. How and why it got here isn’t totally clear. It likely had multiple introductions, both as a contaminant in seeds and attached to fur, clothing, packaging materials, etc., as well as intentionally as a forage crop for livestock. Regardless, it managed to establish readily in the east and then quickly spread across the country, spanning the continent by the early 20th century. It found the Great Basin particularly habitable due to its hot, dry summers and cold, wet winters and largely treeless landscape.

Apart from the climate, a significant factor behind cheatgrass’s establishment in the Intermountain West are all the cows. For a number of reasons, the Great Basin isn’t really suitable for largescale farming operations, but livestock grazing is another story. Many of the animals native to the region are grazing animals after all, so why not graze cattle and sheep? But there is a limit. Too many animals stuck in one spot for too long leads to overgrazing, and overgrazed sites take time for the native vegetation to recover. Cheatgrass exploits this opportunity by establishing itself quickly in disturbed and overgrazed locations and begins the process of outcompeting nearby plants for limited water and nutrients. Once it begins to dominate these sites, it has another trick up its sleeve.

Cheatgrass actually makes good forage for livestock early in the spring when it’s green and tender, but that quickly changes as the plants start to dry out and go to seed. By early summer, cheatgrass has completed its lifecycle and what’s left is a dried-up plant that, due to the silica in its cells, does not break down readily. Where cheatgrass is abundant, this means large swaths of standing brown grass as far as the eye can see. What’s more, this dead vegetation is highly flammable, and the slightest spark can set off a roaring blaze that moves quickly across the landscape, igniting everything in its path. In a region where fires once occurred decades apart, they now occur on a nearly annual basis. And because fire had been historically infrequent, the native vegetation is not adapted to regular fire and can take years to recover, whereas cheatgrass bounces right back, again exploiting the void left by the decimation of native plants and is flowering again the following spring. It’s a self-perpetuating cycle, and cheatgrass excels at it.

cheatgrass on fire

Cheatgrass is a winter annual, meaning that it germinates in the fall as soon as moisture becomes available. It then lies mostly dormant, its shallow, fibrous roots still growing as long as the ground isn’t frozen. Employing this strategy means cheatgrass is ready to resume growth at a quick pace as soon as the weather warms in the spring. Its roots spread horizontally in the soil and essentially rob water from nearby, more deeply rooted native vegetation. Its deep green, hairy leaves form a little tuft or rosette and provide early spring forage for livestock, gamebirds, and other grazing animals. As the spring progresses flower stalks form and the plants reach heights of around 2 feet (60 centimeters). Their inflorescence is a prominently drooping, open panicle and each spikelet has between 4-8 florets, each with a single, straight awn. The flowers of cheatgrass are cleistogamous, which means they don’t ever open. Self-pollination occurs inside the closed floret, and viable seeds soon develop. As the plant matures, it takes on a purple-reddish hue, after which it turns crispy and light brown as the seeds disperse.

The stiff awns remain on the seeds and aid in dispersal. They also cause injury to animals that dare consume them, poking into the soft tissues of their mouths. Passing animals are also injured when the awns work their way into their feet, ears, and other vulnerable body parts. The ability of the awns to attach so easily to fur and clothing is one of the reasons why cheatgrass spreads so readily. Wind also helps distribute the seed. A single plant can produce hundreds, if not thousands, of seeds, which are ready to germinate upon dispersal. They remain viable in the soil for only a few short years, but since they germinate so easily and are produced so abundantly, their short lifespan isn’t much of a downside.

dried inflorescence of cheatgrass (Bromus tectorum)

In many ways, cheatgrass is the perfect weed. It is able to grow under a broad range of conditions. Its seeds germinate readily, and the plant grows during a time when most other plants have gone dormant. It excels at capturing water and nutrients. It self-pollinates and produces abundant viable seed, which are reliably and readily dispersed thanks to persistent awns. Disturbed areas are ripe for a plant like cheatgrass, but even nearby undisturbed areas can be invaded as seeds are dispersed there. With the help of fire, cheatgrass also creates its own disturbance, which it capitalizes on by then growing even thicker, more abundant stands with now even less competition from native vegetation. And because it is available so early in the season and is readily consumed by livestock and gamebirds, what motivation is there for humans to totally replace it with something else? As James Young and Charlie Clements ask in their book, Cheatgrass, “How can we come to grips with the ecological and economic consequences of this invasive alien species that can adapt to such a vast range of environmental conditions?” In another section they lament, “cheatgrass represents a stage in transition toward an environment dominated by exotic weeds growing on eroded landscapes.”

The topic of cheatgrass and other introduced annual grasses, as well as the even broader topic of rangeland wildfires, is monstrous, but it is one that I hope to continue to cover in a series of posts over the coming months and years. It’s not an easy (or necessarily fun) thing to tackle, but it’s an important one, especially for those of us who call the cheatgrass sea our home.

Check out the linktree for various ways to follow and support Awkward Botany.

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Weeds of Boise: Vacant Lot on West Kootenai Street

Every urban area is bound to have its share of vacant lots. These are sites that for whatever reason have been left undeveloped or were at one point developed but whose structures have since been removed. The maintenance on these lots can vary depending on who has ownership of them. Some are regularly mowed and/or treated with herbicide, while others go untouched for long periods of time. Even when there is some weed management occurring, vacant lots are locations where the urban wild flora dominates. Typically no one is coming in and removing weeds in an effort to cultivate something else, and so weeds run the show.

As with any piece of land populated by a diverse suite of wild plants, vacant lots are dynamic ecosystems, which you can read all about in the book Natural History of Vacant Lots by Matthew Vessel and Herbert Wong. The impact of humans can be seen in pretty much any ecosystem, but there are few places where that impact is more apparent than in a vacant lot. In lots located in bustling urban centers, human activity is constant. As Vessel and Wong write, “numerous ecosystem interactions are affected when humans intervene by spraying herbicides or insecticides, by trampling, by physically altering the area, or by depositing garbage and waste products.” These activities “can abruptly alter the availability and types of small habitats; this will in turn affect animal as well as plant diversity and population dynamics.” The dynamic nature of these sites is a reason why vacant lots are excellent places to familiarize yourself with the wild urban flora.

Kōura relaxing in a vacant lot

On our morning walks, Kōura and I have been visiting a small vacant lot on West Kootenai Street. We have watched as early spring weeds have come and gone, summer weeds have sprouted and taken off, perennial weeds have woken up for the year, and grass (much of which appears to have been intentionally planted) has grown tall and then been mowed with some regularity. Someone besides us is looking after this vacant lot, and it’s interesting to see how the plant community is responding. As Vessel and Wong note, “attempts to control weedy plants by mowing, cultivating, or spraying often initiate the beginning of a new cycle of growth.” For plants that are adapted to regular disturbance, measly attempts by humans to keep them in check are only minor setbacks in their path to ultimate dominance.

What follows are a few photos of some of the plants we’ve seen at the vacant lot on Kootenai Street, as well as an inventory of what can be found there. This list is not exhaustive and, as with other Weeds of Boise posts, will continue to be updated as I identify more species at this location.

dandelion (Taraxacum officinale)
grape hyacinth (Muscari armeniacum)
henbit (Lamium amplexicaule)
wild barley (Hordeum murinum) backed by cheatgrass (Bromus tectorum)
narrowleaf plantain (Plantago lanceolata) and broadleaf plantain (Plantago major)
perrennial sweet pea (Lathyrus latifolius) surrounded by redstem filaree (Erodium cicutarium)
whitetop (Lepidium sp.)
white clover (Trifolium repens)
  • Bromus tectorum (cheatgrass)
  • Capsella bursa-pastoris (shepherd’s purse)
  • Ceratocephala testiculata (bur buttercup)
  • Convolvulus arvensis (field bindweed)
  • Descurainia sophia (flixweed)
  • Draba verna (spring draba)
  • Erodium cicutarium (redstem filaree)
  • Geum urbanum (wood avens)
  • Holosteum umbellatum (jagged chickweed)
  • Hordeum murinum (wild barley)
  • Lactuca serriola (prickly lettuce)
  • Lamium amplexicaule (henbit)
  • Lathyrus latifolius (perennial sweet pea)
  • Lepidium sp. (whitetop)
  • Malva neglecta (dwarf mallow)
  • Medicago lupulina (black medic)
  • Muscari armeniacum (grape hyacinth)
  • Plantago lanceolata (narrowleaf plantain)
  • Plantago major (broadleaf plantain)
  • Poa bulbosa (bulbous bluegrass)
  • Poa pratensis (Kentucky bluegrass)
  • Rumex crispus (curly dock)
  • Taraxacum officinale (dandelion)
  • Tragopogon dubius (salsify)
  • Trifolium repens (white clover)
  • Veronica sp. (speedwell)

If you live in an urban area, chances are good there is a vacant lot near you. What have you found growing in your neighborhood vacant lot? Feel free to share in the comment section below.

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Weeds of Boise: Northwest Corner of Ann Morrison Park

The Boise River, which winds its way through the City of Boise, is flanked by a series of parks known collectively as the Ribbon of Jewels, named in honor of prominent women in the community. Most of these parks are vast expanses of turfgrass scattered with large trees and are meticulously maintained, except near the river where the vegetation is allowed to run a little wild. It is within these narrow strips of land, bordered on one side by the river and the other by regularly mowed turfgrass, that a veritable nature walk can be had right in the heart of the city.

While a few native plant species can be found in these strips, much of the vegetation is introduced. Some of the non-native trees and shrubs may have been intentionally planted, while others came in on their own. Most of the grasses and forbs in the understory are weedy plants commonly seen on all manner of disturbed lands. There are also, of course, a few weeds specific to riparian areas. Due to the wild nature of these strips and the abundance of introduced plants, the river’s edge makes for a great place to become acquainted with our wild urban flora.

Looking at the northwest corner of Ann Morrison Park from the Americana Boulevard Bridge

Because these parks (which include the Boise River Greenbelt) stretch for miles through the city, practically any spot along the way could be a good place to look for weeds. I chose to narrow my search to the northwest corner of Ann Morrison Park. What follows are a few images of some of the plants I found there, along with a list of what I was able to identify during my brief visits this spring. The list will surely grow as I check back from time to time. If you’re interested in learning more about the Boise River and its importance – not just to the humans who call Boise home, but also to myriad other living organisms – check out Boise River Enhancement Network and the work that they are doing to help protect and preserve this invaluable ecosystem.

yellow flag iris (Iris pseudacorus)

Russian olive (Elaeagnus angustifolia)

common mullein (Verbascum thapsus)

climbing nightshade (Solanum dulcamara)

cleavers (Galium aparine)

a strip of cheatgrass (Bromus tectorum)

seed head of dandelion (Taraxacum officinale)

western salsify (Tragopogon dubius)

bull thistle (Cirsium vulgare)

Amur honeysuckle (Lonicera maackii)

creeping buttercup (Ranunculus repens)

Weeds found at the northwest corner of Ann Morrison Park (while several of the trees and shrubs at this location are introduced, I only included those species that are generally considered to be weedy or invasive):

  • Amorpha fruticosa (false indigo bush)
  • Anthriscus caucalis (bur chervil)
  • Arctium minus (common burdock)
  • Bromus tectorum (cheatgrass)
  • Capsella bursa-pastoris (shepherd’s purse)
  • Cerastium vulgatum (mouse-ear chickweed)
  • Cirsium arvense (creeping thistle)
  • Cirsium vulgare (bull thistle)
  • Chondrilla juncea (rush skeletonweed)
  • Convolvulus arvensis (field bindweed)
  • Conyza canadensis (horseweed)
  • Cynoglossum officinale (houndstongue)
  • Descurainia sophia (flixweed)
  • Elaeagnus angustifolia (Russian olive)
  • Erodium cicutarium (redstem filaree)
  • Euonymus fortunei (winter creeper)
  • Galium aparine (cleavers)
  • Hordeum murinum ssp. glaucum (smooth barley)
  • Iris pseudacorus (yellow flag iris)
  • Lactuca serriola (prickly lettuce)
  • Lamium amplexicaule (henbit)
  • Lonicera maackii (Amur honeysuckle)
  • Malva neglecta (common mallow)
  • Medicago lupulina (black medic)
  • Parthenocissus quinquefolia (Virginia creeper)
  • Plantago lanceolata (narrowleaf plantain)
  • Poa bulbosa (bulbous bluegrass)
  • Polygonum aviculare (prostrate knotweed)
  • Ranunculus repens (creeping buttercup)
  • Rumex crispus (curly dock)
  • Sisymbrium altissimum (tumble mustard)
  • Solanum dulcamara (climbing nightshade)
  • Sonchus sp. (annual sow thistle)
  • Taraxacum officinale (dandelion)
  • Tragopogon dubius (salsify)
  • Trifolium repens (white clover)
  • Ulmus pumila (Siberian elm)
  • Verbascum thapsus (common mullein)

Like all posts in the Weeds of Boise series, this will be updated as I identify and photograph more of the weeds found in this location.

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Weeds of Boise: Abandoned Pizza Hut on Ann Morrison Park Drive

There is an old Pizza Hut on the corner of Ann Morrison Park Drive and Lusk Street. I’m not sure how long it’s been closed (if someone knows for sure, please let me know), but it has to be well over a year – probably several years. It’s clear that the landscaping has not been maintained for a while. The turf grass in the hellstrips is now mostly weeds, the Callery pears and crabapples are in need of some serious pruning, and the mugo pines and horizontal junipers are slowly dying off. On the other hand, the Oregon grapes and barberries look just fine. They never really needed our help anyway.

I like checking out lots with recently abandoned buildings because you can see in real time just how quickly weeds take over once humans stop their meddling. As the months and years pass, and as the plants that humans intentionally placed there decline, it becomes increasingly obvious that weeds truly are the wild flora of our cities.

My first few visits to this site were on March 21st, 25th and 28th of 2020. During those visits, I made a list of all the weeds that I could easily identify and noted a few individuals that I will need to come back to. What follows are photos of a few of the weeds I came across, along with a list of the weeds I was able to identify.

Every lot needs a dandelion (Taraxacum officinale).

Common mallow (Malva neglecta) in mulch.

The turf grass in the hellstrips has been replaced by several different weeds including tiny, early spring favorites like bur buttercup (Ceratocephala testiculata) pictured here and spring draba (Draba verna).

Common groundsel (Senecio vulgaris) is prolific in a bed on the north side of the building. On the east side, this plant had already flowered and gone to seed by mid-March.

The tough taproot of alfalfa (Medicago sativa) easily works its way into cracks in pavement and concrete.

A bull thistle rosette (Cirsium vulgaris) perhaps?

Cheatgrass (Bromus tectorum) was common on the site, including (perhaps not surprisingly) in this parking block.

horseweed seedling (Conyza canadensis)

Weeds found at the abandoned Pizza Hut on Ann Morrison Park Drive:

  • Bromus tectorum (cheatgrass)
  • Ceratocephala testiculata (bur buttercup)
  • Cirsium vulgare (bull thistle)
  • Conyza canadensis (horseweed)
  • Draba verna (spring draba)
  • Hordeum murinum ssp. glaucum (smooth barley)
  • Lactuca serriola (prickly lettuce)
  • Malva neglecta (common mallow)
  • Medicago sativa (alfalfa)
  • Poa bulbosa (bulbous bluegrass)
  • Rumex crispus (curly dock)
  • Senecio vulgaris (common groundsel)
  • Taraxacum officinale (dandelion)
  • Ulmus pumila (Siberian elm)

This post will be updated as I identify more of the weeds and capture more photos. I also anticipate that this lot will not be abandoned for that much longer. It’s located near Boise State University in an area that has seen a lot of development in the past few years. I can’t imagine prime real estate like this will stay feral indefinitely. Until something is done with it, I’ll keep checking in.

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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, documentaries, articles, 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 Thinking, Erica 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:

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Highlights from the Western Society of Weed Science Annual Meeting

Earlier this month, I went to Garden Grove, California to attend the 71st annual meeting of the Western Society of Weed Science. My trip was funded by an Education and Enrichment Award presented by the Pahove Chapter of the Idaho Native Plant Society. It was a great opportunity for a weeds-obsessed plant geek like myself to hang out with a bunch of weed scientists and learn about their latest research. What follows are a few highlights and takeaways from the meeting.

General Session

Apart from opening remarks and news/business-y stuff, the general session featured two invited speakers: soil ecologist Lydia Jennings and historian David Marley. Lydia’s talk was titled “Land Acknowledgement and Indigenous Knowledge in Science.” She started by sharing a website called Native Land, which features an image of the Earth overlayed with known “borders” of indigenous territories. By entering your address, you can see a list of the tribes that historically used the land you now inhabit. It is important for us to consider the history of the land we currently live and work on. Lydia then compared aspects of western science and indigenous science, pointing out ways they differ as well as ways they can be used in tandem. By collaborating with tribal nations, weed scientists can benefit from traditional ecological knowledge. Such knowledge, which has historically gone largely unrecognized in the scientific community, should receive more attention and acknowledgement.

David Marley was the comic relief. Well-versed in the history of Disneyland, he humorously presented a series of stories involving its creation. Little of what he had to say related to weed science, which he openly admitted along the way; however, one weeds related story stood out. Due to a lack of funds, the early years of Tomorrowland featured few landscape plants. To make up for that, Walt Disney had signs with fake Latin names created for some of the weeds.

Weeds of Range and Natural Areas

I spent the last half of the first day in the “Weeds of Range and Natural Areas” session where I learned about herbicide ballistic technology (i.e. killing plants from a helicopter with a paintball gun loaded with herbicide). This is one of the ways that Miconia calvescens invasions in Hawaii are being addressed. I also learned about research involving plant debris left over after logging. When heavy amounts of debris are left in place, scotch broom (Cytisus scoparius) infestations are thwarted. There was also a talk about controlling escaped garden loosestrife (Lysimachia punctata) populations in the Seattle area, as well as a few talks about efforts to control annual grasses like cheatgrass (Bromus tectorum) in sagebrush steppes. Clearly there are lots of weed issues in natural areas, as that only covers about half the talks.

Basic Biology and Ecology

On the morning of the second day, the “Basic Biology and Ecology” session held a discussion about weeds and climate change. As climate changes, weeds will adapt and find new locations to invade. Perhaps some weeds won’t be as problematic in certain areas, but other species are sure to take their place. Understanding the changes that are afoot and the ways that weeds will respond to them is paramount to successful weed management. This means documenting the traits of every weed species, including variations between and among populations of each species, so that predictions can be made about their behavior. It also means anticipating new weed species and determining ways in which weeds might exploit new conditions.

No doubt there is much to learn in order to adequately manage weeds in a changing climate. An idea brought up during the discussion that I was particularly intrigued by was using citizen scientists to help gather data about weeds. Similar to other organizations that collect phenological data from the public on a variety of species, a website could be set up for citizen scientists to report information about weeds in their area, perhaps something like this project in New Zealand. Of course, there are already a series of apps available in North America for citizen scientists to report invasive species sightings, so it seems this is already happening to some degree.

Teaching and Technology Transfer

A highlight of the afternoon’s “Teaching and Technology Transfer” session was learning about the Wyoming Restoration Challenge hosted by University of Wyoming Extension. This was a three year long contest in which thirteen teams were given a quarter-acre plot dominated by cheatgrass with the challenge to restore the plant community to a more productive and diverse state. Each team developed and carried out their own strategy and in the end were judged on a series of criteria including cheatgrass and other weed control, plant diversity, forage production, education and outreach, and scalability. Preliminary results can be seen here; read more about the challenge here and here.

And so much more…

Because multiple sessions were held simultaneously, I was unable to attend every talk. I also had to leave early on the third day, so I missed those talks as well. However, I did get a chance to sit in on a discussion about an increasingly troubling topic, herbicide-resistant weeds, which included a summary of regional listening sessions that have been taking place in order to bring more attention to the subject and establish a dialog with those most affected by it.

One final highlight was getting to meet up with Heather Olsen and talk to her briefly about her work in updating the Noxious Weed Field Guide for Utah. This work was aided by the Invasive Plant Inventory and Early Detection Prioritization Tool, which is something I hope to explore further.

If you are at all interested in weeds of the western states, the Western Society of Weed Science is a group you should meet. They are fun and friendly people who really know their weeds.

See Also: Highlights from the Alaska Invasive Species Workshop