Dispersal by Bulbils – A Bulbous Bluegrass Story

The main way that a plant gets from place to place is in the form of a seed. As seeds, plants have the ability to travel miles from home, especially with the assistance of outside forces like wind, water, and animals. They could also simply drop to the ground at the base of their parent plant and stay there. The possibilities are endless, really.

But what about plants that don’t even bother making seeds? How do they get around? In the case of bulbous bluegrass, miniature bulbs produced in place of flowers function exactly like seeds. They are formed in the same location as seeds, reach maturity and drop from the plant just like seed-bearing fruits, and are then dispersed in the same ways that seeds are. They even experience a period of dormancy similar to seeds, in that they lie in wait for months or years until the right environmental conditions “tell” them to sprout. And so, bulbils are basically seeds, but different.

bulbous bluegrass (Poa bulbosa)

Bulbous bluegrass (Poa bulbosa) is a Eurasian native but is widely distributed outside of its native range having been repeatedly spread around by humans both intentionally and accidentally. It’s a short-lived, perennial grass that can reach up to 2 feet tall but is often considerably shorter. Its leaves are similar to other bluegrasses – narrow, flat or slightly rolled, with boat-shaped tips and membranous ligules – yet the plants are easy to distinguish thanks to their bulbous bases and the bulbils that form in their flower heads. Their bulbous bases are actually true bulbs, and bulbous bluegrass is said to be the only grass species that has this trait. Just like other bulb-producing plants, the production of these basal bulbs is one way that bulbous bluegrass propagates itself.

basal bulbs of bulbous bluegrass

Bulbous bluegrass is also propagated by seeds and bulbils. Seeds form, like any other plant species, in the ovary of a pollinated flower. But sometimes bulbous bluegrass doesn’t make flowers, and instead modifies its flower parts to form bulbils in their place. Bulbils are essentially tiny, immature plants that, once separated from their parent plant, can form roots and grow into a full size plant. The drawback is that, unlike with most seeds, no sexual recombination has occurred, and so bulbils are essentially clones of a single parent.

The bulbils of bulbous bluegrass sit atop the glumes (bracts) of a spikelet, which would otherwise consist of multiple florets. They have dark purple bases and long, slender, grass-like tips. Bulbils are a type of pseudovivipary, in that they are little plantlets attached to a parent plant. True vivipary occurs when a seed germinates inside of a fruit while still attached to its parent.

Like seeds, bulbils are small packets of starch and fat, and so they are sought ought by small mammals and birds as a source of food. Ants and small rodents are said to collect and cache the bulbils, which is one way they get dispersed. Otherwise, the bulbils rely mostly on wind to get around. They then lie dormant for as long as 2 or 3 years, awaiting the ideal time to take root.

bulbils of bulbous bluegrass

Bulbous bluegrass was accidentally brought to North America as a contaminant in alfalfa and clover seed. It was also intentionally planted as early as 1907 and has been evaluated repeatedly by the USDA and other organizations for use as a forage crop or turfgrass. It has been used in restoration to stabilize soils and reduce erosion. Despite numerous trials, it has consistently underperformed mainly due to its short growth cycle and long dormancy period. It is one of the first grasses to green up in the spring, but by the start of summer it has often gone completely dormant, limiting its value as forage and making for a pretty pathetic turfgrass. Otherwise, it’s pretty good at propagating itself and persisting in locations where it hasn’t been invited and is now mostly considered a weed – a noxious one at that according to some states. Due to its preference for dry climates, it is found most commonly in western North America.

In its native range, bulbous bluegrass frequently reproduces sexually. In North America, however, sexual reproduction is rare, and bulbils are the most common method of reproduction. Prolific asexual reproduction suggests that bulbous bluegress populations in North America should have low genetic diversity. Researchers set out to examine this by comparing populations found in Washington, Oregon, and Idaho. Their results, published in Northwest Science (1997), showed a surprising amount of genetic variation within and among populations. They concluded that multiple introductions, some sexual reproduction, and the autopolyploidy nature of the species help explain this high level of diversity.

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Interested in learning more about how plants get around? Check out the first issue of our new zine Dispersal Stories.

Eating Weeds: Blue Mustard

Spring is here, and it’s time to start eating weeds again. One of the earliest edible weeds to emerge in the spring is Chorispora tenella, commonly known by many names including blue mustard, crossflower, and musk mustard. Introduced to North America from Russia and southwestern Asia, this annual mustard has become commonplace in disturbed areas, and is particularly fond of sunny, dry spots with poor soil. It can become problematic in agricultural areas, but to those who enjoy eating it, seeing it in large quantities isn’t necessarily viewed as a problem.

rosettes of blue mustard (Chorispora tenella)

The plant starts off as a rosette. Identifying it can be challenging because the shape of the leaves and leaf margins can be so variable. Leaves can either be lance-shaped with a rounded tip or more of an egg shape. Leaf margins are usually wavy and can be deeply lobed to mildly lobed or not lobed at all. Leaves are semi-succulent and usually covered sparsely in sticky hairs, a condition that botanists refer to as glandular.

A leafy flower stalk rises from the rosette and reaches between 6 and 18 inches tall. Like all plants in the mustard family, the flowers are four-petaled and cross-shaped. They are about a half inch across and pale purple to blue in color. Soon they turn into long, slender seed pods that break apart into several two-seeded sections. Splitting apart crosswise like a pill capsule rather than lengthwise is an unusual trait for a plant in the mustard family.

blue mustard (Chorispora tenella)

Multiple sources comment on the smell of the plant. Weeds of North America calls it “ill-scented.” Its Wikipedia entry refers to it as having “a strong scent which is generally considered unpleasant.” The blog Hunger and Thirst comments on its “wet dish rag” smell, and Southwest Colorado Wildflowers claims that its “peculiar odor” is akin to warm, melting crayons. Weeds of the West says it has a “disagreeable odor,” and warns of the funny tasting milk that results when cows eat it. All this to say that the plant is notorious for smelling bad; however, I have yet to detect the smell. My sense of smell isn’t my greatest strength, which probably explains why I’m not picking up the scent. It could also be because I haven’t encountered it growing in large enough quantities in a single location. Maybe I’m just not getting a strong enough whiff.

Regardless of its smell, for those of us inclined to eat weeds, the scent doesn’t seem to turn us away. The entire plant is edible, but the leaves are probably the part most commonly consumed. The leaves are thick and have a mushroom-like taste to them. They also have a radish or horseradish spiciness akin to arugula, a fellow member of the mustard family. I haven’t found them to be particularly spicy, but I think the spiciness depends on what stage the plant is in when the leaves are harvested. I have only eaten the leaves of very young plants.

The leaves are great in salads and sandwiches, and can also be sauteed, steamed, or fried. I borrowed Backyard Forager’s idea and tried them in finger sandwiches, because who can resist tiny sandwiches? I added cucumber to mine and thought they were delicious. If you’re new to eating weeds, blue mustard is a pretty safe bet to start with – a gateway weed, if you will.

blue mustard and cucumber finger sandwiches

For more information about blue mustard, go here.

Eating Weeds 2018:

Tiny Plants: Idahoa

This is a post I wrote three years ago as a guest writer for a blog called Closet Botanist. That blog has since dissolved, hence the re-post.

This year, we returned to the location in the Boise Foothills where I encountered the plant that inspired this post. I found what might be seedlings of the tiny plant. If that’s the case, the phenology is a bit delayed compared to three years ago. I’ll check again in a week or so. Until then, meet Idahoa.

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I have taken a real liking to tiny plants. So many of the plants we regularly interact with are relatively big. Large trees loom above us. Tall shrubs greet us at eye level. Flowering perennials come up around our knees or higher. But how often do we get down low and observe the plants that hug the ground or that reach just a few centimeters above it? Turf grass is ubiquitous and groundcovers are common, but among such low growing plants (or plants kept low), even more diminutive species lurk.

It was a hunt for a tiny plant that sent me down a certain trail in the Boise Foothills earlier this spring. Listening to a talk by a local botanist at an Idaho Native Plant Society meeting, I learned about Idahoa scapigera. A genus named after Idaho!? I was immediately intrigued. Polecat Gulch was the place to see it, so off I went.

Commonly known as oldstem idahoa, flatpod, or Scapose scalepod, Idahoa scapigera is the only species in its genus. It is an annual plant in the mustard family, which means it is related to other small, annual mustard species like Draba verna. It is native to far western North America and is distributed from British Columbia down to California and east into Montana. It occurs in a variety of habitat types found in meadows, mountains, and foothills.

Idahoa scapigera is truly tiny. Before it flowers, it forms a basal rosette of leaves that max out at about 3 centimeters long. Next it sends up several skinny flower stalks that reach maybe 10 centimeters high (some are much shorter). One single flower is born atop each stalk. Its petite petals are white and are cupped by red to purple sepals. Its fruit is a flat round or oblong disk held vertically as though it is ready to give neighboring fruits a high five. Happening upon a patch of these plants in fruit is a real joy.

Which brings me to my hunt. It was the morning of March 20th (the first day of Spring) when I headed down the Polecat Gulch trail in search of Idahoa, among other things. The trail forms a loop around the gulch and is about 6 miles long with options for shortening the loop by taking trails that cut through the middle. I have yet to make it all the way around. Stopping every 10 yards to look at plants, insects, and other things makes for slow hiking.

I was about a half mile – 1 hour or more – into the hike when Idahoa entered my view. A group of them were growing on the upslope side of the trail, greeting me just below waist level. Many of them had already finished flowering and had fresh green fruits topping their thin stalks. At this location they are a late winter/early spring ephemeral. I made a mental note of the site and decided to return when the fruits had matured. Next year, I will head out earlier in hopes of catching more of them in flower.

On the way to Idahoa, I noted numerous other small, green things growing in the sandy soil. It turns out there are countless other tiny plants to see and explore. It got me thinking about all the small things that go unnoticed right underneath our feet or outside of our view. I resolved to move slower and get down lower to observe the wonders I’ve been overlooking all this time.

Further Reading:

Field Trip: Utah State University Botanical Center

usu bc sign

Last month I was in Utah visiting family, so I took the opportunity to check out the Utah State University Botanical Center in Kaysville. Located along Interstate 15, it’s hard to miss, and yet I had never visited despite having driven past it numerous times. Of course, March is not the ideal time to visit a botanical garden in Utah. Spring was in the air, but the garden still had a lot of waking up to do. Regardless it was fun to check the place out and imagine what it might have to offer in its prime.

The vision of the USU Botanical Center is “to guide the conservation and wise use of plant, water, and energy resources through research-based educational experiences, demonstrations, and technologies.” Some of the demonstration gardens are located alongside a series of ponds that are stocked with fish and are home to wetland bird species and other wildlife.  Next door to the ponds is the Utah House, a demonstration house modeling energy efficient design and construction along with other sustainable practices. The landscaping surrounding the Utah House, apart from the vegetable garden, consists mainly of drought-tolerant plants.

Utah State University has recently acquired some neighboring land and is in the process of expanding their demonstration gardens and arboretum. I enjoyed my brief visit (particularly the time I spent watching the ducks) and will make it a point to stop again, both during a warmer time of year and as the gardens continue to expand.

Sumac

The fruits of smooth sumac (Rhus glabra)

Pinus heldreichii 'green bun'

Dwarf Bosnian Pine (Pinus heldreichii ‘Green Bun’)

Daphne x burkwoodii 'carol mackie'

Carol Mackie Daphne (Daphne x burkwoodii ‘Carol Mackie’)

Amelanchier alnifolia leafing out

Saskatoon serviceberry leafing out (Amelanchier alnifolia)

Physocarpus opulifolius 'Dart's Gold'

Dart’s Gold Ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius ‘Dart’s Gold’)

Aprium blossoms

Aprium blossoms – 75% apricot, 25% plum

green roof

Green roof on a shed near the Utah House

ducks!

The wetlands at USU Botanical Center offer a great opportunity to teach the public about the importance of wetland habitat and wetland conservation. Signage informs visitors that despite the fact that wetlands and riparian areas only make up 1% of Utah, 80% of Utah’s wildlife use such areas at some point during their life. Learn more here.

What botanical gardens are you visiting this spring? Leave your travelogues and recommendations in the comments section below.

Vines for Spring

I’m taking a break from writing a regular post this time around. It’s the first week of spring, and there is a lot going on. I hope you are getting outside and enjoying the warmer weather (at least those of you in the northern hemisphere anyway). It was a pretty mild winter in my neck of the woods, but that doesn’t diminish my excitement when I see plants start to flower and leaf out. The gray days of winter are largely behind us, and holing up in my cave of an apartment is suddenly less appealing.

What I have for you this week are some short video clips. I recently joined Vine, a short-form, video-sharing social media site where each post is a six second, looped video. I’m late to the scene as usual, but I’ve been having fun messing around with it. The following videos are some of my first attempts (and lousy ones at that); if I decide to stick with it you can expect better content. If you’re interested in this sort of thing, please join, follow, favorite, share, like, comment, etc. Regardless, I hope you will find time to pry yourself away from a screen and experience nature during this beautiful and singular time of year.

 

 

 

 

Awkward Botany is also on Twitter and Tumblr, so feel free to follow me there too if you would like. Happy Spring!

Book Review: Jade Pearls and Alien Eyeballs

The spring season for plant-obsessed gardeners is a time to prepare to grow something new and different – something you’ve never tried growing before. Sure, standards and favorites will make an appearance, but when you love plants for plant’s sake you’ve got to try them all, especially the rare and unusual ones – the ones no one else is growing. Even if it ultimately turns out to be a disaster or a dud, at least you tried and can say you did.

That seems to be the spirit behind Jade Pearls and Alien Eyeballs by Emma Cooper. Subtitled, “Unusual Edible Plants and the People Who Grow Them,” Cooper’s book is all about trying new plants, both in the garden and on your plate. While its focus is on the rare and unusual, it is not a comprehensive guide to such plants – a book like that would require several volumes – rather it is a treatise about trying something different along with a few recommendations to get you started.

jadepearls_cover

Cooper starts out by explaining what she means by “unusual edible” – “exotic, old-fashioned, wild, or just plain weird.” Her definition includes plants that may be commonly grown agriculturally but may not make regular appearances in home gardens. She goes on to give a brief overview of plant exploration throughout history, highlighting the interest that humans have had for centuries – millennia even – in seeking out new plants to grow. She acknowledges that, in modern times, plant explorations have shifted from simply finding exotic species to bring home and exploit to cataloging species and advocating for their conservation in the wild. Of course, many of these explorations are still interested in finding species that are useful to humans or finding crop wild relatives that have something to offer genetically.

Cooper then includes more than 2o short interviews of people who are growers and promoters of lesser known edible plants. The people interviewed have much to offer in the way of plant suggestions and resource recommendations; however, this part of the book was a bit dull. Cooper includes several pages of resources at the end of the book, and many of the interviewees suggest the same plants and resources, so this section seemed redundant. That being said, there are some great responses to Cooper’s questions, including Owen Smith’s argument for “citizen-led research and breeding projects” and James Wong’s advise to seek out edible houseplants.

The remainder of the book is essentially a list of the plants that Cooper suggests trying. Again, it is not a comprehensive list of the unusual plants one could try, nor it is a full list of the plants that Cooper would recommend, but it is a good starting point. Cooper offers a description of each plant and an explanation for why it is included. The list is separated into seven categories: Heritage and Heirloom Plant Varieties, Forgotten Vegetables, The Lost Crops of the Incas, Oriental Vegetables, Perennial Pleasures, Unusual Herbs, and Weeds and Wildings.

This is the portion of the book that plant geeks are likely to find the most compelling. It is also where the reader learns where the title of the book comes from – “jade pearls” is another common name for Chinese artichoke (Stachys affinis), and “alien eyeballs” is Cooper’s name for toothache plant (Acmella oleracea). I have tried a few of the plants that Cooper includes, and I was intrigued by many others, but for whatever reason the two that stood out to me as the ones I should try this year were Hamburg parsley (Petroselinum crispum var. tuberosum) and oca (Oxalis tuberosa).

Tubers of oca (Oxalis tuberosa) - photo credit: wikimedia commons

Tubers of oca (Oxalis tuberosa) – photo credit: wikimedia commons

In the final chapter, Cooper offers – among other things – warnings about invasive species (“our responsibility is to ensure that the plants we encourage in our gardens stay in our gardens and are not allowed to escape into our local environment”), import restrictions (“be a good citizen and know what is allowed in your country [and I would add state/province], what isn’t, and why”), and wild harvesting (“act sustainably when foraging”). She then includes several pages of books and websites regarding unusual edibles and a long list of suppliers where seeds and plants can be acquired. Cooper is based in the U.K., so her list of suppliers is centered in that region, but a little bit of searching on the internet and asking around in various social media, etc. should help you develop a decent list for your region. International trades or purchases are an option, but as Cooper advises, follow the rules that are in place for moving plant material around.

Bottom line: find some interesting things to grow this year, experiment with things you’ve never tried – even things that aren’t said to grow well in your area – and if you’re having trouble deciding what to try or you just want to learn more about some interesting plants, check out Emma Cooper’s book.

Also, check out Emma Cooper’s blog and now defunct podcast (the last few episodes of which explore the content of this book).

Are you interested in writing a book review for Awkward Botany or helping out in some other way? If so, go here.

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

Year of Pollination: Hellstrip Pollinator Garden

This month I have been reading and reviewing Evelyn Hadden’s book, Hellstrip Gardening, and I have arrived at the fourth and final section, “Curbside-Worthy Plants.” As the title suggests, this section is a list of plants that Hadden has deemed worthy of appearing in a curbside garden. It’s not exhaustive, of course, but with over 100 plants, it’s a great start. Photos and short descriptions accompany each plant name, and the plants are organized into four groups: showy flowers, showy foliage, culinary and medicinal use, and four-season structure.

This list is useful and fun to read through, but there isn’t much more to say about it beyond that. So I have decided to write this month’s Year of Pollination post about creating a hellstrip pollinator garden using some of the plants on Hadden’s list. Last year around this time I wrote about planting for pollinators where I listed some basic tips for creating a pollinator garden in your yard. It’s a fairly simple endeavor – choose a sunny location, plant a variety of flowering plants that bloom throughout the season, and provide nesting sites and a water source. If this sounds like something you would like to do with your hellstrip, consider planting some of the following plants.

Spring Flowers

Spring flowering plants are an important food source for pollinators as they emerge from hibernation and prepare to reproduce. There are several spring flowering trees and shrubs on Hadden’s list. Here are three of them:

  • Amelanchier laevis (Allegheny serviceberry) – A multi-trunked tree or large shrub that flowers early in the spring. Other small trees or shrubs in the genus Amelanchier may also be suitable.
  • Cercis canadensis (eastern redbud) – A small tree that is covered in tiny, vibrant, purple-pink flowers in early spring.
  • Ribes odoratum (clove currant) – A medium sized shrub that flowers in late spring. Try other species of Ribes as well, including one of my favorites, Ribes cereum (wax currant).

There aren’t many spring flowering herbaceous plants on Hadden’s list, but two that stood out to me are Amsonia hubrichtii (bluestar) and Polemonium reptans (creeping Jacob’s ladder).

Creeping Jacob's ladder (Polemonium reptens) is native to eastern North America and attracts native bees with its mid-spring flowers. (photo credit: www.eol.org)

Creeping Jacob’s ladder (Polemonium reptens) is native to eastern North America and attracts native bees with its mid-spring flowers. (photo credit: www.eol.org)

Summer Flowers

There is no shortage of summer flowering plants, and Hadden’s list reflects that. When planting a pollinator garden, be sure to include flowers of different shapes, sizes, and colors in order to attract the greatest diversity of pollinators. Here are a few of my favorite summer flowering plants from Hadden’s list:

  • Amorpha canescens (leadplant) – A “good bee plant” and also a nitrogen fixer.
  • Asclepias tuberosa (butterfly weed) – “Valuable pollinator plant and larval host for monarch, gray hairstreak, and queen butterflies.” I love the tight clusters of deep orange flowers on this plant.
  • Coreopsis verticillata (threadleaf coreopsis) – I really like coreopsis (also known as tickseed). Try other species in the genus as well.
  • Penstemon pinifolius (pineleaf penstemon) – North America is bursting with penstemon species, especially the western states. All are great pollinator plants. Pineleaf penstemon is widely available and great for attracting hummingbirds.
  • Salvia pachyphylla (Mojave sage) – A very drought-tolerant plant with beautiful pink to purple to blue inflorescences. Salvia is another genus with lots of species to choose from.
  • Scutellaria suffratescens  (cherry skullcap) – A good ground cover plant with red-pink flowers that occur from late spring into the fall.
The flowers of butterfly weed (Asclepias tuberosa). Milkweed species (Asclepias spp.) are essential to monarch butterflies as they are the sole host plant of their larvae.

The flowers of butterfly weed (Asclepias tuberosa). Milkweed species (Asclepias spp.) are essential to the survival of monarch butterflies as they are the sole host plant of their larvae.

Fall Flowers

Fall flowering plants are essential to pollinators as they prepare to migrate and/or hibernate. Many of the plants on Hadden’s list start flowering in the summer and continue into the fall. A few are late summer/fall bloomers. Here are some of my favorites:

  • Epilobium canum (California fuchsia) – “Profuse orange-red tubular flowers late summer into fall furnish late-season nectar, fueling hummingbird migration.”
  • Liatris punctata (dotted blazing star) – Drought-tolerant plant with tall spikes of purple-pink flowers. “Nectar fuels migrating monarchs.”
  • Symphyotrichum oblongifolium (aromatic aster) – Loaded with lavender-blue flowers in the fall. It’s a spreading plant, so prune it back to keep it in check. Hadden recommends it for sloped beds.
  • Agastache rupestris (sunset hyssop) – Spikes of “small tubular flowers in sunset hues attract hummingbirds, butterflies, and bees midsummer to fall.” Try other species in the Agastache genus as well.
  • Monarda fistulosa (wild bergamot) – The unique flower heads are like magnets to a wide variety of pollinators. Also consider other Monarda species.
Lemon beebalm (Monarda citriodora), an annual plant that attracts an array of pollinators.

Lemon beebalm (Monarda citriodora), an annual plant that attracts an array of pollinators.

As with any other garden, your hardiness zone, soil conditions, water availability, and other environmental factors must be considered when selecting plants for your hellstrip pollinator garden. Groups like Pollinator Partnership and The Xerces Society have guides that will help you select pollinator friendly plants that are suitable for your region. Additionally, two plans for “boulevard pollinator gardens” complete with plant lists are included in the book Pollinators of Native Plants by Heather Holm – one plan is for sunny and dry spots and the other is for shady and wet spots (pgs. 268-269). Once your pollinator garden is complete, consider getting it certified as a pollinator friendly habitat. There are various organizations that do this, such as the Environmental Education Alliance of Georgia. If you are interested in such a thing, the public nature of your hellstrip garden makes it an ideal place to install a sign (like the one sold in The Xerces Society store) announcing your pollinator garden and educating passersby about the importance of pollinator conservation.

habsign

Other “Year of Pollination” Posts

Flood Irrigation and Migrating Waterfowl

It’s American Wetlands Month. Last year around this time, I wrote a brief post describing the importance of wetlands and why they are a conservation concern. This year I thought I would write a little about an issue surrounding wetlands that has recently come to my attention: flood irrigated agricultural land and its benefit to migrating waterfowl.

The term “waterfowl” refers to birds that live on or around freshwater, such as ducks, geese, and swans. Like many other birds, they are migratory, typically flying north in the spring to breed and spend the summer raising their young, and then flying back south in the fall to overwinter. There are four major flyways (or migratory flight paths) in the United States: Pacific, Mississippi, Central, and Atlantic. Along these flyways, migrating birds need places to rest and feed in order to maintain the strength to make it to their seasonal homes. As wetlands have disappeared across the country (and the world), essential areas of respite have become few and far between, threatening the survival of this important group of birds.

Dunlins - Calidris alpina (photo credit: www.eol.org)

Dunlins – Calidris alpina (photo credit: www.eol.org)

Historically, wetlands have largely been diminished and degraded due to human settlement on the floodplains of major rivers. Floodplains are examples of temporary or seasonal wetlands, flooded in the spring when snow in the mountains is melting and during periods of heavy rains but otherwise dry throughout most of the year. These areas appealed to early settlers because they were flat, had great soil for agriculture, and were near a water source. The only downside was the flooding, so levees and dams were built, diversions were made, and eventually these great rivers were tamed, virtually eliminating their status as seasonal wetlands and the important ecological functions that go along with that.

This has spelled disaster for migrating waterfowl who rely on floodplains to be flooded in the spring, providing them with staging habitat on their journey north. Biologists have recognized this issue and have made efforts to protect and restore wetlands in order to provide this essential habitat. But restoring wetlands is a major feat. Rivers that supply both temporary and permanent wetlands aren’t what they used to be. There are myriad diversions and modifications, and with a continually growing human population, too many uses for the water. So that’s where farmers and ranchers come in.

In the spring, many farmers and ranchers flood their fields in order to irrigate crops. Migrating waterfowl take advantage of these flooded fields, stopping to rest and feed. Recognizing the role that flood irrigation has on the survival of these birds, biologists are working with farmers and ranchers along flyways to ensure that their land will remain in agriculture and that land owners will continue to flood irrigate (rather than switching to overhead irrigation). In California for example, rice farmers are being paid by the Nature Conservancy to flood their fields in conjunction with spring and fall migrations in order to ensure that birds will have staging habitat along the way. So, despite humans playing a major role in reducing habitat that migrating waterfowl require for survival, we are finding ways to make up for it. This is just one example of how we can help protect and improve biodiversity in our human-dominated landscapes.

Read more about protecting migrating waterfowl in the Pacific Flyway here.

Geese in a Flooded Rice Field in California (photo credit: NRCS)

Geese in a Flooded Rice Field in California (photo credit: NRCS)

Celebrate American Wetlands Month by learning more about them. Here are some links to get you started:

U.S. Environmental Protection Agency

Association of State Wetland Managers

Defenders of Wildlife

 

Overwintering Lettuce

I overwintered some lettuce, and so can you. Below freezing temperatures usually mean the end of the growing season for most things, but certainly not for everything.  The truth is that salad greens (lettuce, spinach, kale, etc.) can be overwintered, especially if you grow them under a cold frame or hoop house or in an otherwise protected location. Some can even be harvested throughout the winter if the conditions are right.

Last fall I had nine lettuce seedlings that I had started indoors. I transplanted them outside in either late October or early November (memory isn’t serving me right now). I placed some straw mulch around them, and then covered them with a makeshift cold frame made out of PVC pipe and floating row cover. There they remained all winter long.

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I live in Boise, Idaho. The winters here are relatively mild (compared to the rest of Idaho), but we still have plenty of days with below freezing temperatures. Our frost-free growing season is about 160 days long. The average low temperature from December through February is around 25° F. This past winter, our lowest temperature (according to Weather Underground) was -7° F, and we had at least 30 days in which the low temperature reached 20° F or lower. Needless to say, it was a chilly winter.

But my lettuces held on…at least most of them. When I uncovered my cold frame in early March, I found that six of my nine lettuce seedlings had survived. It didn’t surprise me that a few had perished – some of the seedlings that I had transplanted were quite small, and I had serious doubts that they would make it. I was satisfied to see that the majority of them were still alive. Two-thirds ain’t all that bad.

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The varieties that I planted were “Freckles” and “Winter Density.” I chose these because the descriptions I read gave me the impression that they were ideal for overwintering. But descriptions be damned. I suggest seeing for yourself. Take any variety of lettuce or other salad green and experiment in your own garden. See what you can get to overwinter with or without protection. Seeds are fairly inexpensive, and it is worth seeing what you can get to survive through the winter. Differing climates – both macro and micro – will produce varied results, and every year things will be a little different. This is one of the many joys of gardening. Weather and climate will always be factors, but they can also be markers to help us see what we can get away with. And if one of the things you get away with is getting lettuce to survive a harsh winter, it means you will be eating garden fresh lettuce long before your neighbor.

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