Upstanding

The third target of my Washington County foray with B was Trillium erectum (red trillium, wake robin; Melanthiaceae).

There are 38 species of Trillium native to North America; eight of these are native to Maryland. T. erectum is found throughout New England, extending south mostly in the Appalachian Mountains as far south as northern Georgia, and there are a few populations in parts of the upper Midwest. In Maryland it’s found in scattered locations (have a look at the quad data from Maryland Biodiversity Project for details).

Here you can see (from the innermost parts outward) the three stigmas, six stamens, three petals, three sepals, and three bracts. Not leaves? That’s right: technically there are no above-ground leaves on trilliums. The three large structures are bracts (like the colorful parts of flowering dogwood and poinsettias). A bract is a modified leaf, found at the base of an inflorescence.  However, the bracts of trilliums do engage in photosynthesis. I’m not clear, then, on why they aren’t considered leaves, but there it is. Botany is weird.

The taxonomy of the trilliums is a bit unsettled. At first, Trillium was in the Liliaceae; later it was placed in its own family, Trilliaceae; then it was moved to Melanthiaceae (bunchflower family). Now some taxonomists are putting it back into Trilliaceae.

 

I found 37 different common names for this species, among them bathflower, bloody nose, bumblebee-root, daffy-down-lily, herb-true-love, red-benjamin, rule-of-three, true love, wild-piny, and wood-lily.  Makes me appreciate the work of Carl Linnaeus.

The Spring Ephemerals, part 4: Trout Lilies and Toadshade

I love all the spring ephemerals; can’t say which are my favorites. But trout lilies are way up there.

Of the twenty some species of Erythronium, two are found in Maryland (maybe three depending on which authority you consult): E. americanum (yellow trout lily) and E. albidum (white trout lily). The latter is listed S2/threatened by the Maryland DNR. I figured I’d miss seeing both this year, but a little luck and persistence led me to a single white one blooming, and in the process I found a hillside covered in yellow ones (I stopped counting at 35). Here are a few pictures.

I know of two spots where white trout lilies grow. I spent more than an hour searching one of those areas after someone posted a picture of a white trout lily blooming. Couldn’t find it. Hiked to another area, shot the yellow trout lilies, then decided to go back for one more look. Pulled out my phone and searched for the picture, and sure enough, there were enough clues in it that I was able to narrow my search to a small area. Et voila! The one shown here in bud was from the other location, the day before.

Toadshade is a species of trillium, T. sessile (Melanthiaceae). The three maroon petals stay closed; the plants shown here are in full bloom.  

Ol’ Stinky’s Blooming

There aren’t many wildflowers to see at this time of year, but in a few spots the woods are bright with short, white balls-on-sticks.

I have a confession to make that some of my friends will find surprising: foodie Elizabeth does not love the taste of ramps, aka wild leek (Allium tricoccum, Liliaceae).

However, wildflower enthusiast Elizabeth loves the flowers. Or at least the look of them, because they do smell like onion.

Each flower has six tepals, six stamens, and a single style. Multiple flowers are arranged on each umbel, which tops a single leafless stalk, making the plants look like balls on sticks. They stand about a foot tall.

almost all the green in this picture is from ramp leaves

 

 

In the springtime, of course, ramps are all leaves, but the leaves die back before the flowering stalk emerges. They do light up the understory.

 

Ramps range from Tennessee and North Carolina in the south to Manitoba, Ontario, and Quebec in the north, largely to the east of the Mississippi River, with some occurrences west of that (mostly in Minnesota). In Maryland they’re found in scattered locations in the piedmont and ridge and valley physiographic provinces. Look for them in moist, rich woodlands, where they get sun in early spring but deep shade in early summer. (And please don’t forage them, unless you find them on private land, have the landowner’s permission, and collect with sustainable practices – ie, don’t take the whole plant.)

Ramps are listed as special concern in Maine and Rhode Island, special concern commercially exploited in Tennessee, and noxious weed in Arkansas, which is interesting considering that neither USDA PLANTS Database or BONAP have records for ramps anywhere in that state.

Two Showy Aliens

So far this year I’ve noted about twenty alien wildflower species blooming in the Piedmont. Checking through old records, I see that nearly one in four wildflowers I’ve found has been alien. It’s a depressing statistic.

Like the natives, these alien wildflowers run the gamut from tiny and inconspicuous to large and showy. The latter are usually garden escapees, of course – naturalized species originally planted for their ornamental qualities.

Of these, the two star-of-Bethlehem species, Ornithogalum umbellatum and O. nutans, might be the showiest. They are classified in either the Liliaceae or Asparagaceae, depending on which authority you consult.

O. umbellatum, common star-of-Bethlehem or nap-at-noon, is a bulb-forming perennial native to Eurasia, with a typical monocot look: the white-striped, dark green leaves are basal, long, and narrow, so that before flowering the plant looks like a clump of grass. The bright white flowers have six tepals with green stripes on the bottoms, and six stamens; the inflorescence is a corymb. It really is a handsome plant. I used to see it fairly often along the Billy Goat trails, but haven’t in the past few years, so I only have this old iPhone photo of the flowers to show.

Common star-of-Bethlehem is found in all but three Maryland counties, and is widespread in North America, occurring in all areas except parts of the mountainous west, and in much of Canada as well. It’s considered a class C noxious weed in Alabama and potentially invasive, not banned in Connecticut.

The second species, O. nutans (nodding star-of-Bethlehem), I see more of every year, even though it’s not quite as widespread in Maryland or North America. The leaves are similar to those of O. umbellatum, but are somewhat succulent with more pronounced parallel veins. The flowers are white, but a bit dull-looking, with a silvery-gray cast, and they’re borne on racemes rather than corymbs. Standing at almost two feet high, O. nutans is rather larger than O. umbellatum, and more easily spotted at a distance. The species is considered invasive in the mid-Atlantic.

 

nodding star-of-Bethlehem growing with golden ragwort and wild blue phlox along Billy Goat C

Show Me Your Auricles!

Recent chatter on various internet forums and mention of The Trout Lily Project got me interested in learning more about the Erythroniums. Twenty four species of them are native to North America; of these, E. albidum (see yesterday’s post) and E. americanum (pictured in this post) are by far the most widespread. All of the others are west coast or midwest species, with two exceptions: E. rostratum and E. umbilicatum. The latter is found in the southeast, as far north as Maryland.

Maybe.

USDA PLANTS Database shows it present in Maryland, but lacks county-level data. The Biota of North America Project shows it present in Montgomery, Cecil, and Garret counties, while The Flora of North America shows it in the southern part of the state. The Maryland Biodiversity Project has no records for it.

Two characteristics distinguish E. americanum from E. umbilicatum. The latter has a dimple on top of the ovary, where the style attaches, while the former has a persistent style that attaches without a dimple. The other difference is the presence of auricles (“ears”) at the inside base of each tepal of E. americanum; E. umbilicatum does not have auricles.

Also, anther color varies from pure yellow to dark red in E. americanum. There is some thought that E. umbilicatum has more purplish anthers, but this characteristic is deemed unreliable. So to tell the difference, you have to look at the ovaries and look for auricles.

Which is why every time I see a dark-anthered trout lily, I’m down on knees and elbows, glasses off, gently poking back the petals and squinting at the insides.

I would love to be able to submit a record of dimpled trout lily to MBP. So far, no luck. All the trout lilies I’ve looked at have auricles and lack dimples.

Whenever possible I photo-illustrate my posts with my own pictures, but of course I have none of dimpled trout lily. For pictures and more information, go to the link at the start of this post. Also go to the MBP page for American trout lily and scroll down to Bill Harms’ photo of tepals and ovary, then have a look at Carolina Nature’s dimpled trout lily page.

UPDATE fellow blogger and citizen botanist botanybill sent this photo of E. americanum, Thanks for showing us the auricles, Bill!