Crucifers, Wee, Three.
West Side of Griggs Reservoir
Columbus, Ohio. April 7, 2011
On the entrance to this park with a French-sounding name just south of the Fishinger Rd. bridge over the Scioto River, there’s a grassy knoll with some inconspicuous alien annuals.
This trio of weedlets are principally self-pollinating annuals in the mustard family Brassicaceae, also called “Cruciferae” in reference to the suggestion of a cross (crucifix) shape formed by the 4 spreading petals. Members of the mustard family are thus often called “crucifers.” The shiest of the bunch is so-called “Whitlow-grass,” Erophila (formerly Draba) verna. It’s a good example of a winter annual, i.e., a plant that over-winters not as a seed, but as an immature plant with a little rosette of leaves, which bursts suddenly into flower and then fruit as soon as the weather is warm enough. It over-summers as a seed. The special mustard-family fruit of Whitlow-grass is the short and squat type called a “silicle.”
Here’s a crucifer with the long narrow special mustard fruit type called a “silique.” (Memory tip: a silique is sleek.) This is hairy bittercress, Cardamine hirsuta. (“Hirsute” means bearing long hais, which this species does, but the hairs are so sparse that you might miss them. Look at the leaf bases for the hairs.
The third mini-mustard is another silicle-producer. It’s one of the weeds whose common name references the coin-like appearance of the fruits: perfoliate pennycress, Thlaspi perfoliatum.
This is actually a rather uncommon species of Thlaspi, at least compared to the ubiquitous “field pennycress,” Thlaspi arvense, seen in profusion along roadsides and in waste places. (What is a “waste place” anyway?)
I’d like to give you my two cent’s worth about how to distinguish these two penny-cresses. The so-called “perfoliate” one has leaves are clasping at the base (not actually perfoliate, however) whereas the field pennycress has its leaves tapered to the base.
The other difference is in the fruits: larger and more deeply notched in the more common species.
A Tale of Three Dicranums
Waldo, Marion County, Ohio
April 6 and May 11, 2011.
It’s always fun to see different species in of the same genus growing side-by-side. At the Delaware (Ohio) Wildlife Area In Waldo (what is the location of that town)?) there’s a little meadow with numerous soil mounds covered with with mosses and other plants, that feature three types of “broom moss,” in the genus Dicranum (Dicranaceae).
The moss genus Dicranum consists of narrow leaved cushion mosses that often grow in dense cushions. Two especially robust ones are D. scoparium, which has especially narrow leaves that are upwardly curled at the margins, giving them a pointed-tubular appearance. Note also the dense velvety hairs along the stem (i.e., the stem is “tomentose”).
Meanwhile, our showiest Dicranum is D. polysetum. Its leaves are more broad and flat, and are disposed more regularly around the stem, which is even more tomentose. Note also how the leaves are wrinkled in an undulate fashion, making them glisten!
A re-visit to the meadow in May revealed another Dicanum. This is D. flagellare, a species that is easily recognized by its production of sword-like axillary “brood branches” that readily break off to develop into new plants, a means of asexual reproduction.
Dicranum flagellare produces abundant brood branches.
May 11, 2011. Waldo, Marion County, Ohio.
Bartram’s Apple Moss
(Symmes Creek in Wayne National Forest)
April 2, 2011
Bartramia is a moss genus, and Bartramia is a bird genus. How can that be? Aren’t scientific names one-of-a-kind? Yes, mainly, but the system of botanical nomenclature, while it generally follows the same rules as the one for zoological nomenclature, is wholly separate from it, name-wise. Hence it is possible for two quite unrelated organisms to have the same name. I don’t know of any instances where both a genus and specific epithet are identical, but it’s fun to find plant/animal genus pairs.
A favorite name-sameness is Bartramia. This beautiful moss is Bartramia pomiformis (apple moss).
The animal Bartramia is Batramia longicauda, the upland sandpiper. Here’s an old photograph taken by the “Father of American Ornithology, Alexander Wilson, of an upland sandpiper with a sprig of apple moss in its mouth, perhaps to be used as nesting material. What a coincidence!
Actually, even though the names are the same, in a sense they’re not exactly the same. Both are commemorative names commemorating Bartram, but they’re commemorating different Bartrams! Apple moss is named for the Philadelphia Quaker farmer who was one of the first great American botanists to systematically explore the eastern American colonies. The plover is named for his son William, who was more of a general purpose naturalist, quite famous for his wonderful written account of his travels to the southern colonies.
(Symmes Creek in Wayne National Forest)
April 2, 2011
Super-friendly lichen expert Ray Showman held a lichen workshop a few months ago, of which Part Two was this awesome foray to an area of the Wayne National Forest in Gallia County that is especially rich in lichens and mosses. This place is under consideration for designation as a protected lichen and moss study area.
I’m trying to learn a few lichens. There are 233 species recorded in Ohio. Whenever I go out alone, I see the same few ones over and over again. This was a great chance to walk alongside someone with who had an eye for these things, and see what I’ve been missing.
What made this trip “work” for me was seeing unusual saxicolous (rock-inhabiting) members of genera that are familiar because they include common corticolous species.
The rock above is dominated by a large yellow-green foliose lichen called “rock greenshield lichen,” Flavoparmelia baltimorensis, a saxicolous counterpart of the very common F. caperata seen on trees everywhere.
In addition to its substrate, rock greenshield lichen can be differentiated from its common corticolous congener by its principal means of reproduction –asexual structures called “isidia.” Isidia are small cylindrical surface outgrowths which, anatomically, are extrusions of both the upper and middle tissue layers, plus the algal layer sandwiched by them. By contrast, the common greenshield lichen produces “soredia,” i.e., minute spherical bodies consiting of algae tangled up within fungal strands.
A closer examination of this boulder reveals an even more exceptional lichen, rock beard lichen, Usnea amblyoclada.
The lichen genus Usnea is easily recognized by its pendant or filamentous, shrubby growth form. Species identification can be challenging even for experts. This one, U. amblyoclada tends to grow in bushy tufts from a single point, and occurs only on rocks. (All other Ohio species of Usnea occur exclusively, or nearly so, on trees or wood). The species ranges widely across much of the southern U.S. This station is near the northern limit of its range.
This large gray foliose lichen, Parmotrema xanthinum, is another rock-climbing counterpart to a more familiar tree-hugger (the so-called “ruffle lichen,” P. hypotropum).
An interesting lichen growth form, additional to the familiar three –crustose, foliose, and fruticose –is the one called “umbillicate,” Umbillicate lichens are large, flat, and centally attached to the substrate. This particular species, Lasallia papulosa is quite distinctively warty-surface, and thus called “toadskin lichen.”
A super-nifty few lichens stand apart from the rest in that their photosynthetic component (the “photobiont”), instead of consisting of green algae, instead are blue-green bacteria! Some of these lichens tend to have a striking gelatinous texture. Here we see two of them side-by-side: members of the genera Collema and Leptogium. The Leptogium, seen on the left in the picture below, has a slightly juniper-like blue-green cast, compared with the more deeply-green Collema.
Here’s a closer view of the Collema.
New Year’s Mosses
Nashville (near Pigeye)
Miami County, Ohio
Who says that not much happens plant-wise during winter? Yes, the vascular plants are sleeping, but many mosses are merrily growing during the brief but frequent intervals of moist and above-freezing weather. Here’s a log in the woods carpeted by a very common, especially distinctive and beautiful moss. (Note: this is a natural log, using the base e, not some old common log to the base 10.)
The leaf is basswood; the moss is “fern moss,” Thuidium delicatulum. Note the moss’s light color, and its ferny twice-pinnate growth form.
Fern moss is found on a variety of substrates: soil, decayed logs and stumps, tree bases, generally in wet open areas. The genus name Thuidium is based on a supposed resemblance to the foliage of Thuja (northern white-cedar), and the specific epithet “delicatulum” means “very delicate.”
Tree bark is an important moss substrate. I think this is a buckeye, and the little green specks here and there are patches of a small cushion moss.
The moss is an Orthotrichum, probably O. pusillum. The genus is fairly easy to recognize, growing in small tufts, usually on trees, with immersed capsules and crowded ovate-lanceolate leaves that are not much contorted when dry (in contrast to Ulota crispa, a very similar contorted-leaved plant that also occurs high on bark). Species differentiation in this genus can be tricky, depending on some seemingly subjective features, such as by having (as in O. pusillum), an especially small and delicate capsule that is only lightly ribbed and not at all contracted below the mouth when dry. Note the capsules here are fairly well developed, but not yet mature. Spores will be shed in the spring.
Not American Chestnut
(but a great conversation piece!)
December 7, 2010
A friend thought perhaps a big old stump at the edge of a forest preserve in Crawford County was American chestnut, so he brought a chipped-out piece of the stump to be passed around and we all discussed it at the restaurant dinner table before this month’s “Science Cafe.” However, we weren’t stumped for very long; the wood was clearly not chestnut.
It looked very much like the specimen shown below, taken from a sample set of common cabinet woods, and labelled as white oak. Oaks are ring-porous hardwoods, meaning that the water-carrying vessels produced in the spring of each year are larger in diameter than the later-formed summer vessels, and the distinction between the two size classes (earlywood and latewood) is quite abrupt. These tube-like vessels appear circular when viewed in cross-section, and hence are called “pores.”
In this photo, the pores are oriented horizontally, showing 2+ complete years of growth. In the living tree, these pores are arranged in concentric circular rings. Running perpendicular to the growth rings, extending from the center of the tree to the circumference, are bands of a different type of tissue called rays. All trees produce narrow rays in their wood, but, uniquely, some of the the rays of all oaks are HUGE!!. The photo shows four of the gigantic rays that make this specimen, as well as the mystery chunk from the Crawford stump, a clear case of oak.
There are a great many oak species in the temperate forest, and therefore also in the lumber yard. Telling them apart can be difficult or unneccessary. However, the distinction between the two great oak sub-groups, white oaks and red oaks, is easy. Woods of the white oak group have their earlywood pores stuffed with what are called “tyloses,” i.e., they are filled with a transparent material that looks like some tiny person made tiny wads of tiny Saran wrap and puhed them it into the pores. Also, the latewood pores of the white oaks are so very small they are not individually discernable, looking instead like smoke billowing off the large earlywood pores. (The tyloses-stuffed earlywood pores renders white oak wood resistant to leakage, thus it has been used for barrels and casks for whiskey-making.)
Red oak, by contrast, has open earlywood pores, and latewood pres that, while still abruply smaller than the earlywood ones, are individually distinct, and wider than the corresponding pores in white oak woods. You can blow air though a foot-long piece of red oak, making bubbles in a glass of water; it’s great fun!
What would chestnut have looked like? Simply this: like white oak, but lacking the huge rays. Here’s American chestnut from the wood sample set.
Marion County, Ohio
Humans obviously have a deep reverence for lichens. They have established special reserves for them, by installing large blocks of suitable lichen substrate in special areas kept clear of trees because sunny conditions are ideal for the lichens. As a supernatural tribute to the lichens, the remains of deceased humans have been placed under the lichen substrate-blocks. Here’s one such lichen park, Thew Cemetery in Caledonia, Marion County, Ohio. (Cemetery is an ancient Martian word that means “lichen haven.”)
Although lichens do commonly occur naturally on rocks on open areas, and many lichen species are indeed restricted to such sites, the lichen species commonly found in cemeteries are, surprisingly, not strictly saxicolous. Most cemetery lichens also do well on some of the soft-barked trees that grow in the vicinity. Cemeteries have a characteristic assemblage of lichen species, many of which are especially colorful. The yellows are refreshing at this bleak time of the year.
That brilliant lichen is Xanthomendoza fallax. Xanthomendoza (formerly a part of Xanthoria) is a genus of narrow-lobed foliose lichens unlike anything else in our area except the smaller, yellow-yellow not orange-yellow Candelaria, from which Xanthomendoza can also be distinguished by a simple chemical test. Xanthomendoza instantly turns dark purple when KOH is applied; Candelaria does not change color.
This was a rather severe winter, with long-standing patches and sheets of ice on the lichen substrate. Here’s Xanthomendoza with a partial canopy of ice in a shape that doesn’t look at all like a puppy dog.
Here’s a more uniform ice roof that looks like a miniature glacier.
Even through a mixed-up swirly ice lens, Xanthomendoza is dimly recognizable.
Xanthomendoza fallax isn’t the only brilliant lichen at this sanctuary. A crustose species, golden sunburst lichen, Candelariella aurella, also has quite a sunny disposition.
Occurring with the colorful yellow ones are several rather gray lichens. One of these is a type of “frost lichen” that I determined through a chemical “spot test” employing a mixture of equal parts 20% potassium hydroxide (KOH), bleach, and self-delusional uncertainty, to be Physconia leucoleiptes. This so-called “KC” test consisted of applying the bleach, quickly followed by KOH, on the powdery soralia along the thallus margin, and then observing a resultant faint color change to yellow. (Did I mention “faint”?)
Physconia leucoleiptes is a frost lichen.
Physconia can be recognized, at least to the genus level, by the combination of light gray above, black beneath, moderate-sized lobes, and, its most telling feature, a “pruinose” surface. This is a chalky whitish powdery bloom, the basis for the common name “frost lichen.”
Growing alongside the frost lichen on several of the substrate stones is a another gray foliose lichen, but one with a most distinctive morphology.
This is “hooded rosette lichen,” Physcia adscendens, which can be immediately recognized by its tubular paw-shaped lobes, often broken open at the tip, and with long cilia projecting from the upper margins of the lobes.
Hooded rosette lichen would be a bit difficult to recognize under thick ice, so it was nice to have a little “port hole” to see through.
Another medium-sized gray foliose lichen seen here at Lichen National Park bears abundant apothecia. (Apothecia are the spore producing structures characteristic of the fungus group most lichens belong to, the Ascomycota.)
Although it is formally known from just one Ohio county (Coshocton), this Physcia phaea is probably rather common on both natural rocks and lichen havens such as Thew. Its apparent rarity is a consequence of the fact that it was formerly lumped with a widespread very similar species, P. aipolia (hoary rosette lichen). The main difference is habitat, trees versus rocks.
The surface of Physcia phaea (as well as P. aipolia and several others in that genus) is a bit frosty-looking too, but instead of it being pruinose like Physconia, it’s maculate, i.e., spotted and mottled due to gaps in the algal layer.
Physcia phaea is maculate.
Here’s Physcia phaea and Physcia adscendens growing together under ice, including, on the left, a piece of ice that doesn’t look like anything like the head of a big-beaked bird.
A species of Physcia that is especially common on trees may be seen at these lichen sanctuaries, but, because it is so very narrow-lobed, can be discerned only if you look fairly closely.
It’s “mealy rosette lichen,” Physcia millegrana. Look for very narrow, finely dissected lobes broken into coarse soredia (asexual reproductive particles), along with abundant apothecia.
Yet another gray foliose lichen could easily escape notice not because it’s tiny (it isn’t) but because its color and texture match the substrate so well.
This is “bottlebrush shield lichen,” Parmelia sulcata, a very common species seen most often on trees. It is fairly wide-lobed, patterned-maculate above, with a coffee-black undersurface.
This patch of substrate has what looks like a patch of spilled paint on its upper edge.
Most lichens fall into one of three well-known catgories of growth form: fruticose (shrubby), foliose (leafy), and crustose (like a crust). However, there is another form called “squamulose,” that is more or less intermediate between foliose and crustose. “Squamules” are small scale-like lobes that lift from the surface, at least at the edges. “Golden moonglow lichen,” Dimelaena oreina, is a squamulose lichen found on sunny siliceous rocks.
Here’s Physcia adscendens, with a backdrop of a crustose or squamulose lichen that I haven’t been able to identify yet.
Little White Dots on a White Oak Stump
(Xylobolus frustulatus, a crust fungus)
Seymour Woods State Nature Preserve
Delaware County. Ohio. November 21, 2010.
Seymour Woods State Nature Preserve is a lovely woodland preserve that doesn’t require a special access permit, so it’s a great place for a spur-of-the-moment visit on a Sunday afternoon. On the crest of a ravine near a moment-spur, there’s this stump of a white oak.
Stumps are substrate for a variety of interesting organisms, including of course fungi that are capable of digesting cellulose. (That is not an easy thing to do.) This stump has little white dots on it that seems to be some type of fungus.
Here’s a close-up of the little white dots. They look very distinctive, but what the heck are they ..and how the heck could you find out? They’re not mushrooms, so they’re not in the any of my mushroom books. I’m stumped!
Once upon a time, identifying something like this would have taken a whole lot of poking around a library to learn what university has a friendly mycologist who specializes in wood-decaying fungi, to whom you could send it in hopes of getting a nice letter back with the name of the thing. That’s so much more trouble than typing some free-association beat poetry into Google, and miraculously seeing this (link):
Fabulous fungus fan Michael Kuo tells us this is Xylobolus frustulatus, which he calls “a fascinating crust fungus that looks like whitish tile fragments put together carefully with black grout. He whimsically and aptly compares this fungus to cubist art, and explains that it is is common, and grows nearly exclusively on dry, well decayed wood of white oak. Here’s a closer-up photo of “Crusty,” looking indeed quite like an art project.
There’s another saprobic basidiomycete here in the woods.
It’s one of the very few puffballs to occur on wood (as opposed to the ground), and a very common one: Morganella pyriformis, formerly known, and still widely referred to, as Lycoperdon pyriforme. The specific epithet means “pear-shaped.”
With apologies to Peter, Puffball, and Mary (and most of all, to you)…here’s a pretty scary video.
Puff the Magic Puffball Lived on a Log.