lupinus

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A Few More Snags Near Ketchum

Nearly a year has passed since Sierra and I took a trip to Ketchum, Idaho and I reported on some of the snags we encountered there. After months without a break, we finally had the chance to get away for a few days, and since we were desperate for some time off and a change of scenery, we couldn’t turn it down. Plus, we were heading back to Ketchum, so I knew I’d get to check out a few more snags. I was stoked.

I’m obsessed with trees, and my preference is for live ones (generally speaking), but dead trees are certainly gaining in popularity. After all, a dead tree isn’t truly dead. As its corpse slowly rots, it continues to harbor and support life inside and out in a substantial way. Forests need dead trees just as much as they need live trees. Plus, ecology aside, dead trees are no less photogenic than any other tree.

Death isn’t all bad. New life springs from decay. Given our current state of affairs, we need this reminder, and snags offer it in spades. As Sierra and I pulled up to the Apollo Creek trailhead, we looked out onto a section of forest that had clearly been ravaged by fire in the not too distant past. Acres of standing and fallen burned out trees bore witness to this fact. Yet among the dead, life flourished, as dozens of songbirds actively foraged on and around the charred trees. They were there for the insects that were feeding on the dead wood, fueling themselves for fall migration. In the spring, when the birds return, some of them may even nest in the cavities of the dead trees. They will feed again on the insects and raise up a new generation of songbirds that will do the same. In and among snags there are myriad examples just like this, showing us the countless ways in which death supports new life.

What follows is a small sampling of the snags we encountered this time around on our trip to Ketchum.

post-fire snag among many other snags

a series of cavities in a post-fire snag

snag surrounded by live trees

three new snags

fallen snag

broken snag

new tree emerging from a nurse stump

not a snag, but one of many lupines we saw flowering along Apollo Creek Trail

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Texas State Flower

The state flower of Texas blooms in early spring. At least most of them do anyway. Some don’t bloom until late spring and others bloom in the summer. The reason for the staggered bloom times is that the state flower of Texas is not one species but six. All are affectionately referred to as bluebonnets and all are revered by Texans.

As the story goes, at the beginning of the 20th century the Texas legislature set out to determine which flower should represent their state. One suggestion was the cotton boll, since cotton was a major agricultural crop at the time. Another suggestion was a cactus flower, because cacti are common in Texas, are long-lived, and have very attractive flowers. A group of Texas women who were part of the National Society of Colonial Dames of America made their pitch for Lupinus subcarnosus, commonly known as buffalo clover or bluebonnet. Ultimately, the nomination from the women’s group won out, and bluebonnets became an official state symbol.

The debate didn’t end there though. Many people thought that the legislature had selected the wrong bluebonnet, and that the state flower should be Lupinus texensis instead. Commonly known as Texas bluebonnet, L. texensis is bigger, bolder, and more abundant than the comparatively diminutive L. subcarnosus. This debate continued for 70 years until finally the legislature decided to solve the issue by including L. texensis “and any other variety of bluebonnet not heretofore recorded” as the state flower of Texas.

Lupinus texensis - Texas bluebonnet

Lupinus texensis (Texas bluebonnet) bravely growing in Idaho

According to Mr. Smarty Plants, the list of Texas state flowers includes (in addition to the two already mentioned)  L. perennis, L. havardii, L. plattensis, and L. concinnus. Most on this list are annuals, and all are in the family Fabaceae – the pea family. Plants in this family are known for their ability to convert atmospheric nitrogen into plant available nitrogen with the help of a soil dwelling bacteria called rhizobia. The genus Lupinus includes over 200 species, most of which are found in North and South America. Others occur in North Africa and the Mediterranean. Plants in this genus are popular in flower gardens, and there are dozens of commercially available hybrids and cultivars.

L. subcarnosus is sometimes referred to as sandy land bluebonnet and occurs mainly in sandy fields and along roadsides. L. texensis is a Texas endemic; its native range includes the prairies and open fields of north and south central Texas. It is now found throughout Texas and bordering states due to heavy roadside plantings. L. perennis is the most widespread Texas bluebonnet, occurring throughout the eastern portion of the U.S. growing in sand hills, woodland clearings, and along roadsides. L. havardii is the largest of the Texas bluebonnets. It has a narrow range, and is found in a variety of soil types.  L. plattensis is a perennial species and occurs in the sandy dunes of the Texas panhandle. L. concinnus is the smallest of the Texas bluebonnets and is found mainly in sandy, desert areas as well as some grasslands.

Lupinus concinnus (...) - photo credit: www.eol.org

Lupinus concinnus (Nipomo Mesa lupine) – photo credit: www.eol.org

A legend surrounds the rare pink bluebonnet.

A legend surrounds the rare pink bluebonnet

Read more about Texas bluebonnets here and here.

“I want us to know our world. If I lived in north Georgia on up through the Appalachians, I would be just as crazy about the mountain laurel as I am about bluebonnets.” – Lady Bird Johnson