Why has this blog been so quiet lately? There are plenty of excuses for that. It doesn’t really matter either way, but since we’re on the subject, one thing that has kept me occupied recently is being back in school. I’m working on a certificate in GIS, and I’m hoping to make some cool maps. More on that later perhaps.
For now, I thought I’d share one of my final projects. I figured it was a good excuse to use something I’ve already been working on – namely, Weeds of Boise – and apply it to one of my GIS classes. If you’ve been following Weeds of Boise, not much here will be new. Except the interactive maps!
Using observations from iNaturalist, I created three different maps of weeds found around Boise. I published them, using ArcGIS StoryMaps, alongside more of my usual pontificating about weeds and urban areas, etc. The maps aren’t perfect, but they opened up some interesting possibilities for what Weeds of Boise might become. Something to explore further in the future.
Boise’s summers are decidedly hot and dry. Months can pass without any measurable precipitation, meanwhile temperatures regularly peak in the 90’s. In the heat of the summer, multiple days in a row above 100 degrees Fahrenheit is not unheard of. Under these conditions, irrigation is a must if you intend to keep plants alive, particularly plants not adapted to our climate. Skipping out on watering or having something go awry with the irrigation system quickly becomes noticeable as the soil goes bone dry and plants begin to wither away. If this goes on for too long, many plants will not recover, including established trees and shrubs. However, the toughest plants among us, particularly the weeds, will move in to take their place.
You can see an example of this at the United States Postal Service building at 13th Street and Shoreline Lane in Boise, Idaho. The islands in the parking lot are not being watered, which has clearly been the case for quite some time because even the trees and shrubs are dying off. Apart from occasional mowing, very little maintenance is occurring, and our wild urban flora is about all that remains.
parking lot island at the corner of 13 Street and Shoreline Lane
Parking lots are not ideal locations for growing plants. Asphalt and cement dominate – two major contributors to the urban heat island effect – and automobile pollution is concentrated on account of all the cars coming and going on a regular basis. Many parking lots include islands where plants (often poorly maintained), along with other features like signs and lights, are placed. In general, these islands are far too small for trees, but trees are planted nonetheless in a desperate attempt to shade these formidable environments. In locations where snow is common, the snow from parking lots is often piled up on these islands to clear room for cars, while road salts and other ice melts are heavily applied in order to keep people and cars from sliding around. Parking lot plants have to endure all this and more, so it’s no surprise that they usually look pretty rough.
The stresses of added heat, pollution, trampling, and poor care are enough for plants to put up with. Cut off their irrigation supply, and parking lot plants are sure to give up the ghost. A situation like this is an excellent place to familiarize yourself with your wild urban flora. Many weeds seemingly have no problem tolerating these conditions. To demonstrate this, I inventoried the weeds found in neglected parking lot islands at the post office on 13th Street and Shoreline Lane. What follows are a few photos and a list of the weeds I’ve identified so far. Like all posts in the Weeds of Boise series, this list may be updated as I continue to check back in on this location.
spring draba (Draba verna)
shepherd’s purse(Capsella bursa-pastoris)
dandelion(Taraxacum officinale)
black medic(Medicago lupulina)
crabgrass(Digitaria sanguinalis)
annual sow thistle (Sonchus oleraceus)
snag (aka standing dead tree) at post office on 13th Street
Anthriscus caucalis (bur chervil)
Bromus tectorum (cheatgrass)
Capsella bursa-pastoris (shepherd’s purse)
Ceratocephala testiculata (bur buttercup)
Chondrilla juncea (rush skeletonweed)
Claytonia perfoliata (miner’s lettuce)
Convolvulus arvensis (field bindweed)
Conyza canadensis (horseweed)
Digitaria sanguinalis (crabgrass)
Draba verna (spring draba)
Elymus repens (quackgrass)
Epilobium ciliatum (willowherb)
Erodium cicutarium (redstem filare)
Euphorbia maculata (spotted spurge)
Holosteum umbellatum (jagged chickweed)
Hordeum jubatum (foxtail barley)
Lactuca serriola (prickly lettuce)
Lamium amplexicaule (henbit)
Malva neglecta (common mallow)
Medicago lupulina (black medic)
Parthenocissus quinquefolia (Virginia creeper)
Poa annua (annual bluegrass)
Polygonum aviculare (prostrate knotweed)
Portulaca oleracea (purslane)
Senecio vulgaris (common groundsel)
Sonchusoleraceus (annual sow thistle)
Taraxacum officinale (dandelion)
Tragopogon dubius (salsify)
Tribulus terrestris (puncturevine)
Trifolium sp.(clover)
Where there are parking lot islands, there are bound to be weeds whether the islands are being maintained or not. What have you found growing in the parking lot islands in your city? Feel free to share in the comment section below.
If it isn’t clear by now from my Weeds of Boiseseries and countless other posts, I happen to be interested in the flora and fauna of urban areas. Urban ecology is a fascinating field of study, and I’m not sure that it gets the attention it deserves. Nature is not some far away place, and you shouldn’t have to leave city limits to go in search of it. Remarkably, nature exists right outside your front door, even if you live in the middle of a massive city. It may be a different sort of nature than the one you might find in a national forest or a state park, and it may be composed of species introduced from all corners of the world, but it is still a collection of living organisms interacting with each other and the surrounding environment in unique and important ways. The question is, can you grow to appreciate nearby nature and recognize that the ecological interactions that exist within the context of a city are just as valid as those you’ll find outside of our built environments?
Luckily, there are resources that can help you with that, including a recent book compiled by Lisa Thompson and others at the Natural History Museum of Utah (NHMU). It’s called Wild Wasatch Front, and it’s of particular interest to me because it covers a region that’s relatively close by, and our two locations share a number of similarities. Plus, I played a small role in reviewing some of the plants (specifically the weeds) that ended up in the book (Sierra would insist that I mention this, so there you go). Similar books exist for other regions across North America and elsewhere, so I encourage you to seek out a book that applies to your hometown.
The Wasatch Front is a metropolitan region in north-central Utah that spans the western side of the Wasatch Mountains and includes a long string of cities and towns extending for many miles in all directions. Included in that list of cities is Salt Lake City, the state’s capitol and largest city in the state. The idea for a book about urban nature in the Wasatch Front was inspired by an exhibit at NHMU called “Nature All Around Us.” The exhibit and resulting book offer a new perspective for those insisting that “nature and cities cannot coexist” or that the nature found in cities is influenced by humans and therefore shouldn’t be considered “real.” Hundreds of organisms making a life for themselves within the boundaries of our cities might argue otherwise.
Wild Wasatch Front is divided into three main sections, with each section being worth the price of the book on its own. First there are a series of essays about urban nature and ecology. Names you might recognize, including Emma Marris and Riley Black, contributed to the book, as well as several other people that live and work in the western U.S. and have an interest in nature and environmental issues, especially as they relate to cities. Novel ecosystems is a reoccurring theme, not just in the essays but throughout the book. In her essay, Sarah Jack Hinners writes, “urban nature is a mixture of the intentional and the unintentional,” adding that “for every tree or rosebush or lawn that we plant and carefully nurture, there are multitudes of other plants and animals that grow and thrive uninvited and unnurtured by us.”
The largest section in the book is a field guide, profiling 127 plus species that call the Wasatch Front home, some native and some transplants. This section is divided into subsections that include birds, invertebrates, fungi and lichen, mammals, reptiles and amphibians, street trees, and wild plants. The entry for each species includes a brief description, a few interesting facts, and details on how and where to find them, accompanied by images. With the variety of creatures covered, you are sure to find something that interests you and a reason to go out looking for your favorites. You may even learn something new about a species you’ve been seeing for years, such as house finches. It turns out that the colorful patches on a male house finch are the result of the plants they eat. These patches can be red, orange, or yellow. The redder the better though, because female house finches seek out mates with this coloration.
Naturally, my focus was mainly aimed at the plants covered in this section. I appreciated the mixture of native and introduced plants, even the inclusion of plants considered to be invasive. Instead of vilifying these species, there is an attempt to understand them and find value in them, even in spite of the concerns and negative opinions held about them. Box elder (Acer negundo) is an example of a plant that has both native and introduced populations. Once widely planted in yards and on farms, this tree has “fallen out of favor.” Its weak wood (a result of growing so quickly), can result in a messy, unattractive tree, making it a poor choice for a street tree. However, it propagates itself readily and shows up in vacant lots and other urban locations that receive minimal management and human attention. In the Wasatch Front, you can find box elders that are native, naturalized, and cultivated, an unlikely scenario unique to urban areas.
massive box elder (Acer negundo) in Boise, Idaho
The third and final section of the book is a guide to 21 different hikes and field trips in and around the Wasatch Front. Each field trip features a hand-drawn map and some basic notes about the hike. Details about what can be seen along the way are included in the descriptions, which are sure to entice you into visiting. Whether or not you think you’ll ever make it out to any of these spots, this section is still worth reading if only for the ongoing discussions about urban ecology. For example, in the entry for Gib’s Loop, abrupt changes in land ownership and land use (a common experience when hiking in urban areas) is addressed: “Human impacts in the foothills…don’t end at backyard fences, and many animals use resources in both habitats. It’s more interesting to think of cities and the surrounding foothills as part of an interconnected system rather than separate and distinct.”
The field trip section is also used as a teaching opportunity to describe more of the species you’ll find in the Wasatch Front. In the entry for Creekside Park, learn how to identify creeping mahonia (Berberis repens), with its low growing habit and matte leaves, and compare it to Oregon grape (B. aquifolium), with its more upright habit and shinier leaves.
Berberis aquifolium (on the left) compared to Berberis repens (on the right)
Last year, in anticipation of Wild Wasatch Front, I came across another book with a similar focus. This book was put out by a group called The Urban Field Naturalist Project, headquartered in Australia. Their book, A Guide to the Creatures in Your Neighbourhood, encourages its readers to become urban naturalists and offers resources to help them get started. Just like Wild Wasatch Front, the bulk of the book is a field guide to species found in and around urban areas (in Australia, of course). In place of a guide to hikes and field trips, there are instructions on how to start nature journaling, which is a key component of becoming an urban field naturalist. Getting outside and learning to recognize nearby nature is step one, documenting what you see and sharing those observations with others is step two. Taken together, these two books will help you gain a better appreciation for urban nature and will hopefully inspire you to work to conserve what is there and make room for more.
In part one of this two part series, I introduced you to the Boise State University campus, located in the heart of Boise, Idaho. I’ve been spending the past year walking the campus and cataloging the weeds that I find there. Boise has a fairly mild climate compared to the rest of Idaho, so weeds are generally easy to find just about any time of year. What weeds are present depends on what time of year it is. To get a complete picture of the suite of weeds that can be found on a site, it’s important to make observations throughout the year. Weeds can also come and go, with certain species becoming more abundant in some years than others, so making observations over multiple years also helps. This is why I try to update posts that are part of the Weeds of Boise series as I make return visits and encounter additional weed species.
What follows is the second half of the list of weeds I’ve documented so far at Boise State University. I’m including a photograph for each month of the year (July – December), as well as a list of what I’ve encountered up to this point. I’m also including a list of weeds that I didn’t come across but that are documented on iNaturalist.
birdsfoot trefoil (Lotus corniculatus) at BSU in July 2023
yellow nutsedge (Cyperus esculentus) at BSU in August 2023
velvetleaf (Abutilon theophrasti) at BSU in September 2023
chicory (Cichorium intybus) at BSU on October 2023
puncturevine (Tribulus terrestris) at BSU in November 2023
bull thistle (Cirsium vulgare) at BSU in December 2023
Additional weeds found on the BSU campus from July – December 2023:
Abutilon theophrasti (velvetleaf)
Cichorium intybus (chicory)
Cirsium vulgare (bull thistle)
Cyperus esculentus (yellow nutsedge)
Eragrostis cilianensis (stinking lovegrass)
Lotus corniculatus (birdsfoot trefoil)
Medicago sativa (alfalfa)
Melilotus alba (white sweetclover)
Solanum nigrum (black nightshade)
Sonchus asper (prickly sowthistle)
Tribulus terrestris (puncturevine)
Additional weeds observed on the BSU campus by iNaturalist users as of December 2023:
If you live in a major city (or even a minor one), there is a good chance it is home to a college or university (perhaps several). Universities tend to take up a lot of space, which means there is often a plethora of landscaping accompanying their buildings, hardscaping, and other impervious surfaces. Among all the turf, flower beds, tree wells, and other greenspaces, there is bound to be a fair share of weeds. In spite of how hard the groundskeepers may work, the campus is not likely to ever be completely weed-free. Lucky for us, this means that institutions of higher learning are excellent places to familiarize ourselves with many of the weed species that occur in our cities, particularly weeds that are common in garden beds and turfgrass.
Near downtown Boise, on the southside of the Boise River, you will find the ever-expanding campus of Boise State University, home of the Broncos and their famous blue turf. According to the internet’s favorite encyclopedia, the campus is 285 acres in size, plenty of space for weeds to grow and abudant opportunities to hunt them out. Tallying the number of weed species in a place like this takes time. The benefit of botanizing for weeds is that you can find them at just about any time of year. While some species only show up in certain seasons, others can be seen practically year-round.
In order to document the weeds of Boise State University, I’m spending the entire year walking the campus listing and photographing the weeds I find. What follows is the first half of what’s been documented so far. I’m including a photograph for each month of the year, as well as a list of what I’ve encountered. In part two, I’ll share a list of any additional weeds found throughout the remainder of the year. While you’re waiting for that, check out the other posts in the Weeds of Boise series.
common groundsel (Seneciovulgaris) at BSU in January 2023
chickweed (Stellaria media) at BSU in February 2023
hairy bittercress (Cardamine hirsuta) at BSU in March 2023
ivyleaf speedwell (Veronica hederifolia) at BSU in April 2023
black medic (Medicago lupulina) at BSU in May 2023
creeping thistle (Cirsium arvense) at BSU in June 2023
List of weeds found on the campus of Boise State University as of June 2023:
Ailanthus altissima (tree of heaven)
Anthriscus caucalis (bur chervil)
Amaranthus retroflexus (redroot pigweed)
Arctium minus (lesser burdock)
Bassia scoparia (kochia)
Bromus tectorum (cheatgrass)
Capsella bursa-pastoris (shepherd’s purse)
Cardamine hirsuta (hairy bittercress)
Ceratocephala testiculata (bur buttercup)
Chenopodium album (lamb’s quarters)
Chondrilla juncea (rush skeletonweed)
Cirsium arvense (creeping thistle)
Claytonia perfoliata (miner’s lettuce)
Convolvulus arvensis (field bindweed)
Conyza canadensis (horseweed)
Descurainia sophia (flixweed)
Digitaria sanguinalis (crabgrass)
Draba verna (spring draba)
Epilobium ciliatum (willowherb)
Erodium cicutarium (redstem filare)
Euphorbia maculata (spotted spurge)
Galium aparine (cleavers)
Geum urbanum (herb Bennet)
Holosteum umbellatum (jagged chickweed)
Hordeum jubatum (foxtail barley)
Lactuca serriola (prickly lettuce)
Lamium purpureum (purple deadnettle)
Lepidium sp. (whitetop)
Malva neglecta (common mallow)
Medicago lupulina (black medic)
Oxalis corniculata (creeping woodsorrel)
Parthenocissus quinquefolia (Virginia creeper)
Plantago lanceolata (narrowleaf plantain)
Plantago major (broadleaf plantain)
Poa annua (annua bluegrass)
Poa bulbosa (bulbous bluegrass)
Polygonum aviculare (prostrate knotweed)
Portulaca oleracea (purslane)
Prunella vulgaris (self-heal)
Ranunculus repens (creeping buttercup)
Senecio vulgaris (common groundsel)
Sonchus sp. (sow thistle)
Stellaria media (chickweed)
Taraxacum officinale (dandelion)
Tragopogon dubius (salsify)
Trifolium repens (white clover)
Ulmus pumila (Siberian elm)
Veronica hederifolia (ivyleaf speedwell)
Vulpia myuros (rat’s tail fescue)
Do you frequent the BSU campus? Have you seen anything not on my list? Comment below or send me a message and let me know what you’ve seen and where.
As soon as I learned that the Western Society of Weed Science‘s annual meeting was going to be held in Boise in 2023, I began making plans to attend. I had attended the annual meeting in 2018 when it was held in Garden Grove, California and had been thinking about it ever since. It’s not every year that a meeting like this comes to your hometown, so it was an opportunity I knew I couldn’t miss. The meeting was combined with the Western Aquatic Plant Managment Society‘s annual meeting, so consider that a bonus.
The first meeting of the week was the general session where introductions are made and various updates are given. There were two keynote addresses as well. One highlight for me was learning about Women of Aquatics, which is a support group for women that work in aquatic sciences. Because this and so many other scientific fields tend to be male dominated, it’s good to see organizations offering support and creating community to help address some of the challenges women face when working in fields where they are underrepresented. Another highlight was Matt Germino‘s talk about fire ecology in the sagebrush steppe. Due to decades of overgrazing and the introduction of a suite of invasive annual grasses (among other factors), fire has become far more common in our region than it once was. The sagebrush steppe is not adapted to frequent fire, which is part of what makes restoration work so difficult. In 2015, a megafire (referred to as the Soda Megafire) occurred in the Owyhee Mountains, burning around 279,000 acres of sagebrush steppe. Restoration efforts after the fire have been well researched, and such efforts continue to this day. Research opportunities like this are helping us improve the way we address this issue in the West, and I hope to spend future posts elaborating further on this topic.
After the general ssession, I attended a few of the talks that were happening in the various breakout sessions. One was about climate change trends in the western U.S. No surprise, temperatures are on the rise, and along with that will come changes in the way we receive our preciptation (which has already been documented). Our region is expected to see more rain and less snow, and rain events are expected to be of shorter duration but with heavier rainfall. Snowpack is expected to continue to decrease, and drought is expected to become more extreme, which ultimately leads to more fire weather days. None of this is great news, but it’s important to understand what we are in for. I also attended a talk about non-target impacts that can arise from certain herbicde treatments used to control bird cherry (Prunus padus) in Alaska, which brought me back to my time attending the Alaska Invasive Species Workshop in Anchorage.
Posters!
The following day, the breakout sessions continued, and dozens of talks were given throughout the day. It’s impossible to attend them all, and unfortunately a few of the talks that I really wanted to hear were cancelled. One interesting talk that I’m glad I got to see was about liquid-applied cellulosic mulches used to replace polyethylene sheet mulches (black plastic) in strawberries and other crops. The results seen so far seem promising, and I’m eager to follow this topic to see where it goes and hopefully even try it out myself one day.
During the meeting, there were also a series of posters on display that summarized research being doing by some of the attendees. I didn’t get a chance to read them all, but a few standouts included posters about using prescriptive grazing to help control tall oatgrass (Arrhenatherum elatius) populations in Colorado, using an electrical current to help manage weeds in blueberry farms, and weed seed predation by ground beetles in diversified wheat production cropping systems. If a poster is about some form of novel or underused method of weed management, I’m definitely going to read it.
bur chervil (Anthriscus caucalis) in downtown Boise
It might seem a little odd for me to be attending meetings like this, especially since I don’t work as a weed scientist or in weed management, and much of what is discussed, namely presentations about all the various herbicide treatments used in rangelands, turfgrass, and large-scale agriculture, don’t concern me (nor do they really interest me). Talks like this are what you would expect to hear at a weed science conference, so despite not being my thing, I appreciate that such talks often include discussions about herbicide resistance and the responsible use of herbicides, climate change, drought and responsible water use, and adaptive management approaches to weed control. I’m not sure when I’ll get a chance to attend this meeting again – it may be another 5 years or more – but whenever the opportunity presents itself, I’ll be there.
Next Up: Botany 2023 is coming to Boise in July. I’ll see you there!
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!
Growing plants in urban areas comes with a variety of challenges. Soil conditions aren’t always ideal; shade thrown by buildings and other structures can be difficult to work around; paved surfaces lead to compaction and, among other things, can increase temperatures in the immediate area; and in locations where water is limited, keeping plants hydrated is a constant concern. One location that tends to be especially difficult for gardeners is the hellstrip – the section of ground between a roadway and a sidewalk. Much can be said about gardening in hellstrips, so much that there is even a book about it called Hellstrip Gardening by Evelyn Hadden, which I spent several posts reviewing a few years back.
The difficulty of maintaining a hellstrip (and perhaps questions about who is responsible for maintaining it in the first place) can result in it being a piece of property frequently subject to neglect. In urban areas, neglected land is the perfect place for weeds to take up residence. The conditions in a hellstrip being what they are – hot, dry, frequently trampled, and often polluted – also gives weeds a chance to show what they can do. It’s a wonder that any plant can survive in such conditions, but the wild flora of our cities consists of some pretty tough plants, and a hellstrip is an excellent location to familiarize yourself with some of these plants.
On a walk with Kōura, I came across a weedy hellstrip on Jefferson Street in downtown Boise. Many of the classic hellstrip challenges are present there – it’s surrounded by paved surfaces, there is lots of foot traffic in the area, parking is permitted on the roadside, urban infrastructure (street signs, parking meters, stoplights) is present within the strip. It’s clear that at one point the area was being maintained as irrigation is installed and there are remnants of turfgrass. Three honey locusts were also planted in the strip, one of which has clearly died. Now that maintenance seems to have ceased, weeds have become the dominant flora in this hellstrip. What follows are a few photos and a list of the weeds I’ve identified so far. Like all posts in the Weeds of Boise series, this list may be updated as I continue to check back in on this location.
shepherd’s purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris) and prickly lettuce (Lactuca serriola)dandelion (Taraxacum officinale)salsify (Tragopogon dubius)seed head of salsifyknotweed (Poylgonum sp.)prickly lettuce (Lactuca serriola)mallow (Malva neglecta)orchard grass (Dactylis glomerata)
Bromus tectorum (cheatgrass)
Capsella bursa-pastoris (shepherd’s purse)
Dactylis glomerata (orchard grass)
Epilobiumbrachycarpum (tall willowherb)
Lactuca serriola (prickly lettuce)
Malva neglecta (dwarf mallow)
Polygonum sp. (knotweed)
Salsola sp. (Russian thistle)
Taraxacum officinale (dandelion)
Tragopogon dubius (salsify)
Trifolium repens (white clover)
Vulpia myuros (rattail fescue)
Are there unkept hellstrips in your neighborhood? If so, what weeds have you seen taking up residence there?
I spend a lot time on this blog putting weeds in the spotlight, celebrating them for their successes and the unique and interesting plants they are. It’s rare that I get to share these sentiments outside of this particular venue, but I was given such an opportunity recently when asked to talk about weeds for an episode of Outdoor Idaho, a long running show on Idaho Public Television that covers Idaho’s natural history. The theme of this particular episode is wildflowers, so I was intrigued by the idea of coming on to discuss urban weeds. For many, the term “wildflowers” may invoke native plants blooming in natural areas in places far removed from the hustle and bustle of the city. But a wildflower doesn’t have to be a native plant, nor does it have to be growing in the wild. Any plant occurring naturally on its own without the assistance of humans can be a wildflower, and that includes our wild urban flora. I appreciated the chance to share this particular thought with the viewers of Outdoor Idaho.
photo credit: Jay Krajic
Along with me waxing on about weeds, the Wildflowers episode features a host of other Idahoans sharing their thoughts, expertise, and experiences with wildflowers. The episode is brief – coming in at under 30 minutes – but the producers packed in a ton of great wildflower content, and overall I found it to be an excellent representation of the flora of Idaho and a convincing argument for why we should appreciate and elevate these plants. The flora of any region is special and important in its own right, and Idaho’s flora is no different, including its weeds.
Check out Outdoor Idaho’s Wildfowers episode here.
In other news…
If you want to see more of me on the screen (and I’m not sure why you would), Sierra (a.k.a. Idaho Plant Doctor) and I are doing monthly Q&A videos in which we answer your questions about plants, gardening, pests and diseases, insects, or any other topic you might be curious about. You can tune in to those discussions on Sierra’s instagram. If you have questions of your own that you would like us to address, please leave them in the comments section below, or send them to me via the contact page or my instagram.
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.
awkward botany 