Crowning Glory

Wednesday, May 10. Headed to Sugarloaf Mountain with two goals: get good pictures of pink lady’s slipper and mountain laurel. Failed both. Too late for the former, too early for the latter.

 

 

Monday, May 15. Headed to Rachel Carson Conservation Park with three goals: locate and photograph large twayblade; get good pictures of spotted wintergreen and mountain laurel. Failed to find the twayblade, too early for the spotted wintergreen, and the mountain laurels were still in bud, with only a few individual flowers open.

 

Tuesday, May 16. Headed to Carderock with one goal: photograph mountain laurel. Success! Here they were actually a little past peak bloom, but still flowering profusely.

 

There’s something about the flowers of plants in the Ericaceae (heath family) that I find especially compelling, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Actually it isn’t just the flowers, because I find the plants themselves intriguing and lovely.

 

Mountain laurel (Kalmia latifolia) is a multi-stemmed shrub that grows to 15 feet tall, maybe taller in the right conditions, but it doesn’t grow straight. The stems twist and curve, and you can see that habit in the patterns of the bark. It has a tendency to drop all but the uppermost leaves. When in bloom it looks to me like the plant is crowned in flowers.

Like our garden azaleas and rhododendrons, mountain laurel flowers on old growth (which you can see in the first photo). New growth is pictured here (with spent oak catkins drooped on the petioles).

 

 

Identifying mountain laurel is easy, because little else has that open, gnarled habit. The leaves are evergreen. Flowers are borne in crowded corymbs, and each flower has five petals fused into a tube, with ten stamens that initially stick in little folds in the petals. The color ranges from nearly white to deep pink, with a red ring in the throat.

Like other ericaceous plants, mountain laurel loves moist but well-drained, acidic soils. When you see it, you’ll often see other plants in the same family nearby. In Rachel Carson Conservation Park, it grows on a bald knob with pinxter azaleas, blueberries and deerberries (Vaccinium species), and spotted wintergreen (Chimaphila maculata). It’s also abundant on Sugarloaf Mountain, and on a few of the ridges near Carderock. There’s a section of the Cabin John Trail that I call Erica Alley, a rocky area with plenty of ericaceous species (and other neat plants, like rock polypody, ground pine, and firmosses), including dozens and dozens of mountain laurels, too, but in all the years I’ve been hiking there, I’ve never seen them bloom. I’ve never even seen buds on them.

Mountain laurel ranges from Louisiana to Maine; it’s threatened in Florida, special concern in Maine, and exploitably vulnerable in New York. In Maryland it’s found in every county except Somerset.

 

Evening Dowagers

Hesperis matronalis, right there on the trail

On the Billy Goat B Trail near the Marsden Tract, about ten days ago, there was a great stand of tall plants blooming in various shades of purple. In past years other hikers have asked me if I knew what the plants are. They’re so beautiful and eye-catching!

four-petaled flowers of Hesperis matronalis

 

 

And, guess what? As is too often the case with showy flowers, this species is an alien invasive. Its common name is dame’s rocket; the botanical name is Hesperis matronalis. The four-petaled flowers are typical of plants in the mustard family (Brassicaceae).

Phlox divaricata

 

Beginning wildflower enthusiasts sometimes mistake dame’s rocket for our native wild blue phlox (Phlox divaricata), which has flowers in a similar range of colors. However, wild blue phlox is usually done blooming by the time dame’s rocket is starting.

alternate leaves with serrated margins on Hesperis matronalis

 

 

Also, the phlox is a shorter plant and has opposite leaves with entire margins, whereas dame’s rocket has alternate leaves with serrated margins.

range of colors in a stand of Hesperis matronalis

 

 

 

Dame’s rocket ranges through almost all of Canada and the US, except for the southernmost tier of states. It’s listed in Colorado as a noxious weed; is invasive, banned in Connecticut; and is prohibited in Massachusetts. The Missouri Botanical Garden website says, in bold red letters:

This plant is listed as an exotic invasive species to Missouri and the Midwest by the Midwest Invasive Plant Network. The species should not be planted in the Midwest.

It shouldn’t be planted in Maryland, either. It self-seeds like crazy. Come to think of it, wild blue phlox would make a wonderful substitute in the home garden. Unless you have rabbits. The rabbits destroyed mine within two days of planting last spring.

a single Hesperis matronalis on the other side of the trail

The generic name Hesperis is from the Greek word for evening, in reference to the pleasant fragrance the plants give at dusk.

 

One More Violet

I’ve been so fixated recently on understanding difficult genera that I’ve gotten way behind in posting; there are now a dozen different species that will have to wait until next year, as they’re surely done blooming by now. But since Viola has been one area of focus, I’ll do a quick post about one more species.

As acaulescent blue violets go, this one is easy to identify, because of the unusual leaf shape. It’s Viola palmata, aka early blue violet, cleft violet, or wood violet. In the southern part of the Maryland piedmont it seems to bloom much later than the other blue violets; I’ve seen no sign of those at the Billy Goat Trails, on Sugarloaf Mountain, or at Rachel Carson Conservation Park in the last two weeks.

Note how variable the leaf shape is.

These photos were taken on May 2, along the C&O Canal towpath near the Marsden Tract. I saw this species last year in mid May on Sugarloaf Mountain, so it’s likely to be blooming still.

 

A Bit More on Thalictrums

This morning, while botanizing with friends in the central Montgomery County serpentine barrens, I tripped across this. It’s another example of Thalictrum coriaceum (maid of the mist). Note how much more brilliantly colored the flowers are. I believe that’s in part because I caught them newly opened, as opposed to senescing.

These plants were also much smaller than the others: about twelve inches rather than thirty six. Why the difference? I’m going to take an educated guess and say habitat. The plants pictured in my last post were found close to the Potomac River, in a woodland that provided dappled sunlight. To judge by the variety and species of other vegetation nearby, I’d guess the soil was mesic (moderately moist) and nutrient-rich. The plants I found today were growing in a clear-cut field, in full sun, on a dry-ish slope on serpentine soil, which is nutrient-poor. (See this post from last September).

I also found this, which I believe to be a stunted specimen of Thalictrum pubescens (tall meadow rue). It, too, was only about twelve inches tall, but otherwise showed the characteristics of that species.

 

I want to stress again that I’m a perpetual student, not an expert. Anyone who disagrees with my assessments, please leave a comment!

The Botanerd’s Handy Guide to Thalictrum Species

After a quick happy hour dinner and art walk on Friday evening, Steve and I settled in at home, each with our laptops, him working on something for his employer, and me trying to understand the genus Thalictrum and identify some plants.

Do we know how to party or what?

I wasn’t getting very far, because my pictures were taken on a windy, overcast day, and high ISO = noise = can’t see details. So I turned to Steve and asked “hey hon, would you be willing to be my assistant on a short hike tomorrow?”

Steve has little interest in botany, but he’s a good sport. Saturday morning, with rain threatening, we hiked quickly to the mystery Thalictrum meadow and took measurements, looked at leaflets with the hand lens, and got some slightly better photos.

I’ll spare you the details of keying out the species, which turned out to be Thalictrum coriaceum, or maid-of-the-mist.

Because I know other wildflower enthusiasts who’ve had difficulty with this genus, I’ve put together a handy guide to identifying the five Thalictrum species found in the Maryland piedmont.

If it looks like this, it’s T. thalictroides (rue anemone). I’m not trying to be flip, but rue anemone is the only one of the five species to bear perfect (ie., bisexual) flowers, so it can’t be confused with any of the others.

pistillate flowers of Thalictrum coriaceum

 

 

 

 

T. coriaceum and T. dioicum have nearly identical flowers. Both species are dioecious, meaning that plants bear either pistillate or staminate flowers. If you see the flowers in late March or early April, and the plants are no taller than two feet, they’re probably T. dioicum.

staminate flowers of Thalictrum coriaceum

 

 

If you see the flowers in late April or later and the plants are around three feet tall, they’re probably T. coriaceum.

a proximal leaf of T. coriaceum clasping the stem

 

 

 

 

As a further check, examine where the leaves meet the stem. On T. coriaceum, the proximal leaves (the ones closer to the base of the stem) should be clasping, like this.

a sessile distal leaf of T. coriaceum

 

 

 

The distal leaves (closer to the tip of the stem) will be sessile, like this. More specifically, according to Weakley’s Flora, the leaf immediately below the lowest flowering branch will be sessile. If you’re wondering how this can be considered sessile, read on.

click on this one!

 

 

The attractive thing about these Thalictrum species, at least to me, is the intricate, airy leaves, which are described as triternate, or triply compound.

Steve stretches out a leaflet for me to photograph

 

 

 

Each leaf has one stem (petiole) divided into three parts (called petiolules, or sub-petioles), that end in leaflets; each leaflet is divided again into three, and each of those divisions is divided once more into sub-leaflets.

An Erigeron shows what a sessile leaf looks like

 

 

Sessile generally means that the leaf tissue is directly connected to the main plant stem, without a petiole.

With triternate leaves, the fact that all three petiolules meet at a point directly adjacent to the main stem makes the leaf sessile. Note that in the photo showing a clasping leaf, there’s a little collar of leaf-like tissue surrounding the stem at the place where the petiolules meet it. That collar is lacking from the sessile leaf in the following photo.

The last two species are T. revolutum and T. pubescens. Both usually flower even later than T. coriaceum, and both usually stand taller (up to six feet or more). Examine the undersides of the leaves. T. pubescens will usually be slightly pubescent (finely hairy), though it may be glabrous (smooth). T. revolutum will have small, round bumps or stipitate glands, which look like hairs with teardrops on them. You will probably need a hand lens to see these details. And remember to always examine multiple leaves and see what features the majority of them have.

Crush a leaflet between your fingers and smell it. T revolutum will have a skunky odor. Although the specific epithet revolutum means that the leaves turn downwards at the edges, a useful mnemonic is to remember the word revolting.

I regret that I have no pictures of this plant to show, but I’ve never seen it in the wild. From what I’ve seen on various internet sites, the flowers of this plant look much like those of T. coriaceum, except they’re white.

T. pubescens can be dioecious or polygamo-dioecious (see this post for explanations of these terms). I believe these to be the staminate flowers, but am not sure; I took this picture last summer before delving into Thalictrums. On my to-do list for later this year is to find a stand of these and examine them more closely. And then write about it, of course.

 

When confronted with a large number of details I often make spreadsheets in order to make sense of it all. The information in this chart comes from Flora of the Southern and Mid-Atlantic States, Flora of North America, Illinois Wildflowers, and to a very small extent, my own observations. Any errors are mine.

  T. coriaceum T. dioicum T. pubescens T. revolutum
height 25.5″ to 59″ to 30″ 20″ to 118″ 36″ to 84″
stems glabrous glabrous or glandular coarse glaucous or slightly pubescent
leaves
   proximal      (toward base) petioles clasping petiolate petiolate; petioles often pubescent
   distal (toward the tip) sessile or nearly so petiolate sessile
   basal? no yes yes  no?!
leaf at lowest flowering branch sessile petiole 3-7 cm
leaflets ovate, obovate, suborbicular ovate, obovate, suborbicular ovate, obovate, suborbicular ovate, obovate, suborbicular
3 – 9 lobes 3 – 12 lobes 1 – 5 lobes 1 – 5 lobes
lobe margins crenate lobe margins often crenate lobe margins entire lobe margins entire
leaflet undersides glabrous or glandular glabrous or glandular finely pubescent to glabrous stipitate glands or papillae
flowers pistillate: purplish, standing pistillate: purplish, standing white to purplish pistillate: greenish
staminate: purple with yellow anthers, drooping staminate: yellow, drooping filaments standing staminate: white, drooping
flowering May – July March – April May – July May – August

A final note: Thalictrum is one of those taxonomically challenging genera; different authors recognize different characteristics and different names. This guide is probably not much use outside the Maryland piedmont, where more or different Thalictrum species may be present.