Victoria Glades

If I had to pick a favorite habitat, it would be glades. Open sky, tough plants, rocks that invite you to sit and look, that's what I'm talkin' about! To officially qualify as a glade, the area must have all or most of these characteristics:

• thin, rocky soils
• exposed bedrock
• steep slope
• facing south, west, or southwest
• dry, fast draining soils
• fire adapted plants
• scarcity of trees

Spring is busy for gardeners with binoculars, but I decided to make time for "Missouri's Glades," a continuing education class at St. Louis Community College, sponsored by Missouri Native Plant Society (MONPS), and taught by their past-president, Rex Hill. Our first field trip was to a dolomite glade less than an hour from me,  Victoria Glades in Jefferson County. One portion of the glades is managed by The Nature Conservancy, the other by Missouri Dept. of Conservation.

Let's get right to the amazing plants and animals: I have never seen so much Indian Paintbrush (Castilleja coccinea)! The whole hillside had a reddish cast. Alongside the paintbrush, Fremont's Leather Flower (Clematis fremontii) bloomed. This is a non-climbing clematis, rare and protected in Missouri. I have never seen it in  bloom before.

A female broad-headed skink warms in the sun from a tree cavity on the edge of the glade.

Down by the creek, the Louisiana Waterthrush sang his beautiful, slurred complex song. Up in the glades, Prairie Warblers sang from thickets of fragrant sumac (Rhus aromatica). Eventually, one danced to the edge and gave us great views. Blue-winged warbler, another species that likes open or shrubby habitat, popped up to the top of a tree, threw back his little yellow head, wheezing his sleepy, "Beee-buzzzzz."

In spite of strong breezes, we saw butterflies too.We watched a very faded, transparent Monarch nectaring on leather flower. There were Eastern Tailed Blues on False Toadflax, and we saw several Pearl Crescents.  I just managed to get a poor photo of a dark butterfly, which I think was a lifer for me, a Dusted Skipper!

One of the group found a Wild Turkey egg in the dry grass. A good part of the egg was missing, and as we look inside, we could see a large beetle that apparently was eating what was left of the yolk, or possibly, was eating whatever was eating the yolk. After following Beetles in the Bush and taking my first tentative steps toward appreciating insects, I was excited that I identified it as a carrion beetle, Necrophila americana.

John managed to find us a striped bark scorpion, a Western Slimy Salamander,  and this little dandy, an Eastern Hog-nosed Snake. Non-venomous hog-nosed snakes are the entertainers of the reptile world. A hog-nose can play possum, rolling over belly-up leaving its tongue out. When being "dead" doesn't seem the best defense, it will try to bluff its way out of the jam. It can pull its head and front portion upright, spreading its neck in a thoroughly convincing imitation of a cobra; when I happened to come upon one of these tricksters, it made my hair stand on end! Pat, who volunteers at a St. Louis County conservation area, told me that they had reports of 3 cobras just that week!

I took about 100 photos--seriously. I shared a few of them here.

Website Wed: Illinois Wildflowers

Missouri Evening Primrose is pollinated by Sphinx moths. AMcC

I use lots of references for my blog posts; books of course, and websites. The websites have some advantages:

• I don't have to buy any bookshelves for them.
• They aren't heavy.
• They don't pile up on my desk.
• In most cases, they're free.

One of my favorite reference websites, and the subject of this week's "Website Wednesday," is Illinois Wildflowers. True, I don't live in Illinois, but I'm only about a 20 min. drive away and our states share most plants. Written by Dr. John Hilty the home page offers categories or chapters, including, wildflowers of Prairie, Savannah and Thicket, Wetland, and Woodland. If you're not sure which category the plant fits into, scroll to the bottom of the page and use the "custom Google search" to go through the whole site. 

Once you've chosen a category, you'll see an alphabetical list of scientific names, each with an common name. Click on your plant of choice and you see a full-page article. Not only is there a color photo and written description, but he gives advice for growing the plant in a garden. Click on the hyperlink "Distribution Map" and a map of Illinois pops up, with shading on the counties in which the plant is found. My favorite part is "Faunal Association." Hilty lists the birds, mammals, and insects that use the plant for food. If you like to see butterflies in your garden, this is really helpful for finding plants that caterpillars love! 

Forgotten Pollinators

Bumblebee inside translucent blossom of Rose Turtlehead AMcCormack

Take a lovely wildflower like Rose Turtlehead (Chelone obliqua). If it is going to bear seeds, the plant needs to have its pollen grains transferred to the stigma of another, unrelated Rose Turtlehead. With its genetic survival at stake, you would think that the species would make things inviting and easy for passing pollinators. Inviting, it is. The blossom contains nectar; nectar produced by the plant for the sole purpose of attracting a pollinator. Easy, it is not. Like Adam and Eve, bumblebees must earn their living by the sweat of their brows--except they don't have brows.

First, the Turtlehead forces the bee to struggle through a tight, tubular opening. Then, the plant positions its nectar reward far at the back of its one-and-a-half-inch blossom. Once the bee reaches the nectar, she finds that the pollen she was counting on to feed the kids is stuck on the anthers. Determined, she vibrates her body violently to shake the pollen from the anthers. Now she must somehow work her way out of the bloom, and fly off with her load to another delectable Rose Turtlehead. The process is called buzz pollination, and it's not just Turtleheads that require it of their pollinators. Tomatoes, blueberries, and many wildflowers such as wild indigo (Basptisia australis) produce more and larger fruits if they are successfully buzz pollinated.

Bumblebee struggles to break free of the blossom AMcC

Not every pollinator is up to the task. Honeybees and smaller native bees are too tiny. Only the Sumo wrestlers of the bee world, the bumblebees, can really deliver that buzz. What is the evolutionary brass ring that Turtlehead is reaching for? By withholding its reward from pollinators other than it's favored one, the plant encourages that selected pollen-carrier to visit another bloom of the same species--"pollinator constancy." Evidently, once the bumblebee finds something she likes, she sticks with it.

I had really hoped that my photos would help me identify the species of bumblebee, but I just didn't get enough of the insect in the frame. I'll keep trying though. There are several web pages that help with bee identification. My favorite is the identification key to bumblebees from Discover Life. The Xerces Society has a page devoted to the topography of the bumblebee. Bumblebee.org has a great color chart for identifying bumblebees as well as information about their life cycle and how to attract them.

The media has given quite a bit of attention to colony collapse disorder, which has caused the European honeybee to vanish from many places where it was once abundant. We can't afford to lose our native bees as well. The Xerces Society provides information about bumblebee conservation, as well as information about my region, Missouri.

Aerodynamically, the bumblebee shouldn't be able to fly, but the bumblebee doesn't know it, so it goes on flying anyway. 

Mary Kay Ash

Not really true, aerodynamically, but isn't it a great quotation?

A Compass on the Lone Prairie

Compass Plant blooms at Howell Prairie, St. Charles Co., MO AMcC

My first reason for wanting to find Compass plant for my yard is the tale that it can be used as a compass. Now that my plants are large, I can say that the tale is true—mostly. Compass plant (Silphium laciniatum) is a plant of tall grass prairies and glades and everything about it shows is adaptated to dry conditions with blazing sun. Leaves and stem are hispid, as the botanists say; or covered with “little tiny hairs,” as Jonathan Winters would say. The stiff white hairs reflect light, effectively protecting the plant’s tissues against the sun.

Presumably, they also discourage deer and antelope from snacking on it as they play on the range. Instead of large, light-gathering leaves on a tropical philodendron, Compass plant’s leaves are large but deeply cut, reducing the surface area. Merv Wallace at Missouri Wildflowers Nursery says they look like “green flames.” The plant’s best trick is to move those leaves around during the day so that they face east and west, presenting only a narrow edge to the scorching south. Now the leaf points north, hence, the name. Of course, if the plant is shaded by something, the leaves may face any direction, so navigators beware!

Leaves point north AMcC

I wonder what the first Europeans thought of Compass plant when they first explored the tall grass prairies of the Midwest. It towers up to 8 feet, with a tough, thick stem, topped with 2 to 3 inch sunny flowers. Many sources mention that the Indians used the resin in the top part of the stem for chewing gum. The Pawnee used the dried root as a medicine, given in tea. I don’t envy the job the Pawnee women had, trying to dig the huge taproot in dry soil, using only a sharpened stick.

In Ozark Wildflowers, Kurz tells us that the Omaha and Ponca believed the plant attracted lightning and would not camp near it. It makes sense if you image mile after mile of treeless, tall grass prairie. Compass plant could very well be the tallest structure out there. Tall things can be at a premium for birds on the prairie. Meadowlarks and sparrows need to make their presence known so they can defend territory and find a mate, and Compass plant stalks are just the ticket. On a birding trip to southeast Arizona, I noticed that some of the Arizona birders tied Agave stalks to their fences, providing an attractive perch for hummers. I couldn’t get an Agave stalk into my carry-on, so I use last season’s Compass plant stalk for my hummers.

If you grow Compass plant, remember that it takes a few years for it to bloom, growing from seed. Once your plant sends up its tall stalk from the leaves at the base, stake it at least by June, with a heavy stake, driven in deeply. Out on the prairie it wouldn’t matter if a few stalks fell over in a storm, there would still be many of them blooming. But we gardeners don’t have that kind of space. Horizontal blooms don’t really impress in the garden.

Compass Plant blooming in August AMcC

Several insects depend soley or partly on Compass plant: the Silphium beetle, Rynchites sp. and the prairie cicada, Okanagana balli, which the Illinois Dept of Natural Resources calls, “the rarest large insect in Illinois.” Studies on this insect in Kansas found that although it occurs on remnant native prairies, it has never been found on a restored prairie. I was unable to find out if the prairie cicada occurs in my home state, Missouri.

Cattle and horses do eat Compass plant, according to the USDA Natural Resources Conservation Service. I like to look out at my plants and imagine buffalo grazing on Compass plant. The buffalo wouldn’t stay long in my yard—I only have two plants. I bet the plants would grow back though. Dr. John Hilty’s website says that Compass plant can live for 100 years!

Bees, Butterflies, and Biodiesel

Monarch Butterfly on Cup Plant bloom AMcC

One of my favorite native plants is Cup Plant, Silphium perfoliatum. My first experience with it was in Hidden Meadow at Girl Scout Camp Cedarledge. My friend Sandy, whose position was “Nature Specialist,” showed me how the large opposite leaves wrap the square stem to form a cup. It had been hot and dry, but when she tipped the tall stalk, water dripped out. Pretty cool! Much later, I read about a couple who got rid of their bird feeders and planted a wildlife garden. I wish I could remember the title of the book, but I do remember that next to their windows, they planted cup plant so that they could enjoy watching the birds use the “natural birdbath.” I resolved to do the same when I got my own home.

Cup plant is a true garden personality. I do sometimes see chickadees and other birds land on the large leaf and dip into the “cup” for a drink. Perhaps they also capture insects in the water. The leaf is pointed, with a jagged edge and rough as sand paper. The stem is thick, smooth, straight, and square, giving it another common name, “Carpenter’s Weed” (Kurz, Ozark Wildflowers, 121). If you were to design a garden plant that breaks all the rules of garden plant developers and hybridizers, you’d come up with Cup Plant. There’s nothing dainty about it. Now you know why I like it!

Cup Plant leaves in June AMcC

By early August, many of my plants are 8 feet tall. Plants that don’t receive as much light and water are smaller. Towering plants with large leaves filled with rainwater sometimes tip over during a storm. If you have a good spot for Cup Plants, plan on staking them up in early summer, and use a really stout stake.

Cup plant blooms are always in demand with bees of all sorts, especially bumblebees. It’s worth remembering that native bees such as bumble bees are much less likely to sting than honeybees, but if you’re concerned, don’t plant it near the door or walkway. I welcome bees and other pollinators, but I found out my mail carrier didn’t. This perennial does spread from the root, so I could afford to thin the herd. Once I removed a plant or two and staked the others up away from the box, he started delivering my junk mail again.

Leaves form a cup as they enclose the stem. AMcC

The blooms of Cup Plant are a bit more than 3 inches across. Like other members of the Aster family, they provide the perfect landing platform for butterflies. When they’re in bloom, I frequently see 4 different butterfly species in the yard at a time. Today’s Cup Plant list: Monarch, Painted Lady, Fiery Skipper, and Checkered White butterfly. Bumblebees, carpenter bees (known as “long-tongued” bees) and butterflies are the most important pollinators for Cup Plant. When it goes to seed, American Goldfinches, House Finches, and (on rare occasions) Pine Siskins will visit.

Butterflies and Moths of Missouri, by J Richard and Joan E. Heizman (1987) mentions that the caterpillar of a moth, Eucosma giganteana (no common name), bores into the root of Silphium. With its wings closed, E. giganteana looks a lot like a small bird dropping—a great strategy for avoiding hungry birds. With a little research, I kicked up this story by P. J. Johnson: In South Dakota, Cup plant is being studied as a possible source of renewable energy! It’s possible that Cup Plant will be used to produce biodiesel fuel or plastics. If it is to be grown as a biomass crop however, scientists need to know about the possible impact of E. giganteana on the crop, especially since Cup Plant is its one and only host or larval food plant. Their studies found the larva in the flower heads, leaves and stems, but not in the root. I did find a caterpillar on one of my plants, but it looked nothing like the larva pictured in Johnson’s article. Apparently, E. giganteana is very uncommon, but I’m still going to examine bird droppings a little more closely.

Of Cabbages and Checkered Whites

Female Checkered White butterfly on cup plant
as a native bee takes aim! AMcC

August is an exciting time in a wildlife garden. My yellow composites are beginning to bloom—cup plant, prairie dock, golden glow, woodland sunflower, and brown-eyed Susan. Goldfinches add to the yellow garden as they harvest purple coneflower seeds for their nestlings. The males sing almost as much and as loudly as robins in May. Pollinators of every kind are busy all day long. All these species are on schedule, and then a surprise: a Checkered White butterfly! Checkered Whites are not rare, but they are new to my “yard list.”

You might not think a member of the family of “Whites” or Pierids would be eye-catching, but I think the female’s pattern is really appealing. I was thrilled with the new species, but I didn’t realize how uncommon this sighting was till I talked to my friend, Yvonne Homeyer. Yvonne writes the butterfly report for our local chapter of North American Butterfly Association and serves on NABA’s board of Directors. She pointed out that this year Checkered Whites have been seen in just a few gardens and not reported at all in natural areas.

I did a bit of checking on the abundance of Checkered Whites. In Brock & Kaufman’s Butterflies of North America, the map indicates that they are uncommon in my area (St. Louis County, MO). Glassberg’s Butterflies through Binoculars; The East says, “Abundance of this species greatly fluctuates.” Wagner, in Caterpillars of Eastern North America, says, “This species has declined precipitously over the east in my lifetime.”

Why this should be is unknown. Checkered White caterpillars can eat just about anything in the mustard/cabbage family (Brassicaceae), which includes plenty of native and non-native weeds as well as garden vegetables. I didn’t think I had any of the host plants in my yard, till I checked Denison’s Missouri Wildflowers. I have a small area of toothwort (Carmdamine), which I didn’t realize was in the mustard family. A plant they seem to use quite heavily is pepper grass, which is abundant in the nearby city property and college campus. Every yard seems to have another brassica, the invasive, non-native hairy bittercress.

I spent about 3 days trying to get photos. Monday, I saw a male Checkered White, but it had disappeared by the time I got my camera. Tuesday was a scorcher, 100° with high humidity. I ran out of the air-conditioned house with the camera as soon as I spotted it through the window. This butterfly was a very cooperative female, but the condensation on my lens made the images useless. Amazingly, I saw another female Checkered White on Wednesday and was able to get some decent shots, in spite of the fact that it didn’t linger long at a blossom. It’s really nice to study the photos later and see native bees and an Ailanthus Webworm moth in the frame.

I recognize the female butterfly by the checkered markings, especially on the hind wing. But if I were a  Checkered White butterfly, according to the University of Florida’s Institute of Food and Agricultural Sciences, I’d look for a different “UV reflectivity.” I guess that would be pretty attractive too.

Seeing such a beautiful, pale butterfly kind of makes up for the wounds of reading that its preferred habitat includes “dry weedy areas” (Milleman, Mizzel, Jones on “Web Only Display of Miscellaneous Local Insects”) and—even worse—“disturbed open areas…(and) abandoned railway tracks” (Glassberg, 52). I don’t like to think of my front yard as “disturbed,” but it is interesting that I have only seen it in the front among cup plants and a number of species adapted to dry glades. So far, it has ignored my backyard of tall phlox, butterfly bush, and swamp milkweed.

Female Checkered White Butterfly shares Cup Plant
with native bees and Ailanthus Webworm moth AMcC

“The time has come,” the Walrus said,

“To talk of many things:

 Of shoes—and ships—and sealing wax—

 Of cabbages—and kings.”

Lewis Carroll 

Reincarnated Cowboys

Photo by Richard Skoonberg

If binoculars are basic equipment in your garden, you’ve gotta have purple coneflowers! Being native to this area (Midwestern USA), they don’t demand much—just sunlight and an occasional rain. No need for fertilizer or insecticides. Echinacea purpurea is native to Missouri, but so are pale purple coneflower (E. pallida), whose petals droop even more than the “regular” purple, and yellow coneflower (E. paradoxa).

Hybridized garden varieties are shorter than the species—that is, less than 4 feet tall. Nurseries have developed purple coneflowers that are orange, red, or deep purple. If you like to play with scale, try ‘Little Annie,’ a new variety. It’s miniaturized—less than 10 inches, with many small flowers. I have one in a container one the front porch. Modern garden varieties hold their petals closer to horizontal, but I prefer the charming droop of the unimproved native plant.

Of course the main reason to have loads of purple coneflowers is goldfinches. Cornell doesn’t mention it in their fantastic bird website, but rodeo-riders—and perhaps the clowns too—are reincarnated as goldfinches. When the blooms are finished and most gardeners would get out the shears, that’s the time little yellow birds hop onto that bloomed-out conehead and ride, Sally, ride! My Flickr friend Richard Skoonberg captured this photo as a male goldfinch tweezes the seeds out, then flies off to feed his nestlings. American Goldfinches are one of the few species of birds that feed seeds to their young, not insects. In the process, they drop a few seeds in new areas, allowing the plant to spread. Purple coneflowers are indispensable in a wildlife garden!