Rhododendrons in the Middle of Nowhere: Helping Hannah work on her thesis research

The scene was like something out of a movie:

Scottish Sunset at Corrour Train Platform.

I'm the only who gets off of the train at the Corrour platform as the sun is setting in the Scottish Highlands. The train attendant gives me a coy smile and then shuts the door behind me. The silence of the expanse of glens and mountains around me floods my senses. The openness of where I found myself almost makes me gasp. The trains pulls away into the sunset and I am left alone with the mountains. The only semblance of humans is the empty platform and closed lodge.

Whoa. I was alone in the truest sense of the world.

The Lonely Mountain?

Not for long, anyway. I knew Hannah would come pick me up, but man, as I walked along the road towards Loch Ossian, , as the sunset behind the mountains, I felt an immense silence and alone-ness like I'd never experienced.

Hannah did come get me and what ensued can only be described as amazing. We stayed at incredible accommodation, ate tasty food, and wandered in a private Rhododendron garden set amongst hundred-plus-year-old conifers. We did get some work done, pressing plants and taking data for Hannah's project, but we also took time to enjoy being where we were. The mountain views over the loch and the soft mats of sphagnum moss were like something out of a faerie tale. Even for being eaten alive by midges, it was a once-in-a-lifetime trip.

Click here for more photos!

Classes are over!! A year in review of the Biodiversity and Taxonomy of Plants

My first dissection of a fall-blooming Anemone hybrid, family Ranunculaceae, order Ranunculales, showing a cross-section of the bracts, receptacle, the fruits and the stamens. 

So....it's been more than a week since classes were over and now I'm coming down from, literally and figuratively, a vacation and extra Beltane performance at the Museum Late Celts Evening at the National Museum of Scotland. Whoa!

Needless to say, this year has been insanely busy, challenging, hectic, crazy, insane, borderline manic, amazing, insightful, and full of good people, great plants, and incredible experiences.

Monday I start my thesis work (in not so many words: evaluating how existing ecosystem services evaluation systems are able to assess botanical garden collections), but I thought it would be appropriate to reflect back on the year of classes on angiosperms (what most folks know as flowering plants), gymnosperms ('naked seed plants', or what most folks know as conifers, Gnetophytes, and Ephedras), and evolution of all the plants and all the things associated with plants, like algae, fungi, and fossils (which Scotland is rich in!!).

The common themes you'll probably notice from the photos are flower dissections and plant walks with Louis and Jenny. I will work on trying to annotate the photos so you know what I was trying to look at!

Click here for more photos!

Nathan being a human yard stick to show how big these Vireya Rhododendron trusses are.

Trillium Expedition to Northern Alabama with Christopher

So...remember last year I went to Washington, D.C. for the APGA Plant Collections Symposium. Well, that trip made this trip possible. I met both Christopher Elenstar, a horticulturist at Brookside Gardens in Maryland, and Carol Lambden, the special projects manager at Huntsville Botanical Garden, during the symposium and it was then these plans were hatched. Serendipity at its finest.

This is probably one of my favorite vignettes at the Birmingham Botanical Gardens: Sanguinaria canadensis, bloodroot; Trillium cuneatum, sweet betsy; Thalictrum thalictroides; and Xanthorhiza simplicissima, yellowroot.

Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago, and we were still getting the logistics ironed out, but the trip was still on! Whew.
I started the long drive up Interstate 65 the overcast morning of April 2, IDing plants as I drove (and man, there were some impressive Cornus florida and a handful of Chionanthus virginicus). The weather held off for me until I got to Birmingham, when a thunderstorm of epic proportions chased me to the airport where Christopher was just about to land....(and yes, his pilot landed in the middle of the thunderstorm).

We started our epic journey with pizza. No! Who has time for food when there are awesome plants waiting to be found?!

Dodecatheon meadia, shooting-star, Primulaceae. Click for more photos.

Nope, food first. But afterward, we were off to the Birmingham Botanical Gardens for a botanical primer of North Alabama plants (which are more akin to those in Maryland and the North Carolina mountains than those in southern Alabama). We pointed ourselves in the direction of the native wildflower garden and we were off. Neither of us were expecting the intricate detail of the floral and botanical offerings we witness therein. We recognized most, some only to genus, and then there were others we eagerly sought the tag for.



We closed down the Birmingham Botanical Garden (and killed our cameras) and then made the drive to Huntsville to stay the night.

~~~

The next morning we got up to an overcast, humid morning, but our stop for breakfast made it all better. Christopher made an excellent find with the Mason Dixon Bakery. It was a great way to start the day!

We headed over to the Huntsville Botanical Garden first thing to meet up with Carol for a tour of the garden and the Trillium collection they are hoping to get NAPCC certified. It was a happy reunion and Christopher and I were quickly whisked off in a 6-seater golf cart with Harold Howard, the Trillium man.

Trillium pusilum, Melantiaceae. Click for more photos of the nursery.

Again, we were immediately in awe of what we'd signed up for. Harold gave us a two-hour tour of their native nursery area that was full of Trillium, native azaleas, Hexastylis, Asarum and a myriad of every other native flowering herb you could imagine. He picked up seed flats, trays, and pots; lifted leaves and pointed out flowers. There seemed no end to the experimentation and learning and discovery that was going on back there. I was so impressed with the volunteer support they have and their support of wild-collecting and rescuing of native plants. Whoa!


We were whisked off to the actual outplanted Trillium collection and the native wildflower area as soon as we could pry ourselves away from the nursery. Just countless "one more Trillium"s later, Carol, Christopher and I had gotten the crash course of a lifetime in the 28 species of Trillium Huntsville had. I was furiously taking notes and pictures and asking questions, and time flew by until my body reminded me it was lunchtime.

Trillium in the Woodland Garden at Huntsville Botanical Garden. Click for more photos.

Carol drove us through the rest of the garden, including the clever children's garden and butterfly house. Sadly it was a little early for the butterflies, but I guess I'll just have to see them on my next visit!

As if the morning-long tour wasn't enough, Christopher and I made out like bandits with Trillium flexipes, Asarum and Hexastylis, as well as several different native azaleas (which is exactly why I keep plastic in the back of my car)!

After a tasty lunch from the garden cafe and a wonderful discussion about what we learned that day, we made our way to Monte Sano State Park, the mountain that loomed over Huntsville, to hunt for wild Trillium. The southeastern side of the mountain was a sheltered valley and looked promising after appraising the nice $3 map we got with our entrance fee.

Shades of spring in the canopy of the forest at Monte Sano. Click for more photos.

The overlook we parked at presented a beautiful view of the valley below and allowed us to feel the breath of spring coming up from it. We started on the Sinks Trail, slowly making our way to the trailhead down the hillside. At first it wasn't looking promising as the understory seemed empty, but as well looked closer the ephemerals of all sorts came into focus. And the Trillium appeared in great swaths. Score.

A ring of Jeffersonia diphylla, Cardamine concatenata, and an unknown herb.

As we made our way further into the valley, a more stunning diversity of plants dotted the landscape. We'd barely made it halfway the hillside when we came to a limestone shelf and Christopher saw the first patch of Jeffersonia diphylla, a rather curious mono-generic member of the Berberidaceae, barberry family. Suddenly there were several clumps and then the whole hillside was dotted with them. It was mind-blowing to see so many in one spot. There were other plants there too, Heuchera villosa growing out of the cracks in the rock and Hepatica nobilis doing its thing. Unreal.

We had to keep moving, though the going was slow. Every five feet was a new plant, a new photo we had to take. Everywhere I looked there was something astounding about the landscape: the contour of the hill, the way the light lit up the emerging leaves on the trees, the towering trees, the stream we came upon. Everything. It was all as if we'd stepped into a fantasy world you only read about in botanical fairy tales.

Mertensia virginica, Virginia Bluebells, Boraginaceae

Our cameras started dying as we came upon a valley of Mertensia virginica, Virginia Bluebells. What started as a random patch of the beautiful, true-blue flowers and a carpet of Sanguinaria canadensis, bloodroot, opened up into an almost acre blanket of the Mertensia in full bloom. We stared in awe as we tried to understand the scale of the scene we were seeing. A closer look showed more Sanguinaria, ferns and even a few Trillium flexipes in the mix. I went into the valley for a scale picture and then Christopher and I spent at least 20 minutes just taking in everything.

But I could hear thunder whispering in the distance and I could tell there was a warning in the air, so it was time to move on. The sun had disappeared behind the mountain towering over us and we had to make it out of the park before sundown. Time to move.

We booked it up the hill and down an adjoining trail back to our car. We got a few more photos out of our phones, playing hopscotch with each other as we tried to hurry down the path while also taking photos. Just as we were starting the final ascent, the thunder cracked above us and the rain came in a gentle, steady stream. We made it back to the car just a little damp.

But the view as we drove back down the mountain was incredible. The sun was setting, emerging from the clouds clearing the horizon. There was another dark warning coming on the western horizon, but for the moment we could enjoy the beautiful sunset, a few more healthy clumps of Trillium cuneatum and some Mason Dixon Gluten-free cupcakes.

~~~

An ocean of Mertenisa virginica in the morning sun. Click for more photos of the morning.

I'm not one for early rises....but this trip was a special occasion. We had a lot to fit into such a small amount of time. We rose just as the sun was coming over Monte Sano State Park and we were ready
for a follow-up trek to see some more of what we missed. It was surprisingly chilly that morning, in the mid-40s by the time we got to the top of the mountain. With out hand firmly buried in our pockets, we descended into the valley as the sun was lighting the mountain side. It seemed spring had taken a queue from the sunshine and a deeper haze of green lit the canopy around us. It was a brisk jaunt and very successful.

We'd started our morning with a minimal breakfast, so it was off to another lovely gluten-free place! We fueled up and then we were off to our final stop: Wheeler National Wildlife Refuge.

It was still chilly in Decatur and it seemed the Saturday morning was prohibitive to many hikers. We stopped in the visitor's center to get our bearings and found out there really weren't many hiking trails. It makes sense, since it is a wildlife refuge, not a human recreation area. We found some trails though and so it was out to the Cypress Trail.

Clear morning path through the cypress swamp. Click for more photos.

It started as a beautiful walk on a boardwalk through the understory of a drove of Taxodium distichum. They were some of the largest I'd ever seen (and Christopher was wonderful enough to volunteer later to be my human yardstick so I could really show how large they were). After we left the boardwalk, however, there was a lot of evidence of invasive species. Ligustrum sinensis had taken over most of the understory and was working on choking out the overstory. It was a sad sight to see after such a beautiful stand of bald cypress. It was heartening to see their efforts to control the Phyllostachys though! Keep it up, USFWS!

Although not robust, these native azaleas made up for it in stature and the breadth of their colonies.

Our next and final stop was just across the road at a peninsula extending out into the Tennessee River. Our first impressions were full of more invasive species, including an Ilex cornuta, Chinese holly (which is a good argument again selling 'Carissa' hollies!!), which I took the liberty of taking out with my hand saw. It was hard to see any native shrubs and herbs through the thicket. There was a healthy overstory of pines, hickories and oaks though. A very interesting diversity of trees, which we'd hardly paid attention to the couple days before.

But finally, as we moved farther away from the trailhead, we started to see more natives than invasives, and then the invasives faded out almost completely. What came into view was a rich understory of native herbs and native azaleas. We saw at least three species of native deciduous azaleas: Rhododendron periclymenoides, R. alabamense and R. canescens. Just like with our experiences with the Trillium the days before, we saw one thicket of azaleas and then we'd look closer and see more and more. I was also heartened by the few healthy Cornus florida I saw as well.

~~~

And all of that was 50 hours curb to curb. Overall, it was an amazing adventure that turning into more than a pilgrimage for Trillium. It was an intensive field course in woodland ephemerals and the simple beauty in natural vignettes. It inspired me to bring more natural elements into the landscape and proves Mother Nature has better taste than I do.

Emergence: Mobile Botanical Garden Volunteering and Longleaf Pines

I've made it safely to Mobile, Alabama and I'm staying with my grandparents here for a few weeks. It is vastly different from Martha's Vineyard or North Carolina: the first day I was here it was hard to breathe because the air was so humid for winter! But, I've loved looking at the trees and seeing that the dominant pine is the longleaf, Pinus palustris (yes, it has needles and yes, needles are considered leaves). It is such a handsome tree and too rare a sight in my native Piedmont North Carolina. Obviously, it's one of my favorite trees.

The shining canopy of a longleaf pine, Pinus palustris. They really glisten in the mid-day sun. If you check out the photos, you'll notice I have a slight obsession with the little pine seedlings.

I decided since I was going to be here for a while that I would reach out to the local Mobile Botanical Garden to do some volunteering (please support your local botanical garden in time, participation and/or money!). I immediately got an email from the director welcoming me to come by anytime, so I went out there to check it out this morning as soon as I could.

It was breezy and a little cooler than it had been the last few days, but the sky was clear and the day was gorgeous. The longleaf pine forest welcomed me along Museum Drive and I was so excited to be there as soon as I got out of my car.

Taiwan cherry in the Rhododendron Garden circle.

I briefly walked through the Millie McConnell Rhododendron Garden, taking in the mauve Prunus campanulata. Taiwan Cherry, blooming in the center and dreaming of the spring when the azaleas (actually Rhododendron cultivars) put on a show. There were even a few early blooms on the azaleas. If you ever get to visit Mobile in March or April, dear reader, please check out the garden and its spectacular collection of the many groups of azaleas. This is one of the most comprehensive azalea collections that showcases the Deep South's azalea breeding heritage.

It would have been a shame to skip over the Kosaku Sawada WinterGarden, where I knew I would see the wonderful diversity of Camellia cultivars blooming. Even on the second of February most of them were blooming heavily in all shades of white, pink and red, and in all sizes, from quarter-sized to almost six inches wide. Being on the Vineyard really taught me an appreciation for these wonderful plants, despite how common they can be in the landscape.

Camellia japonica 'Kitty'

After my quick jaunt on the grounds, I went to check in about volunteering. It looks like I came at the right time and I can't wait to get to work tomorrow! (Update, 2/3/15: six hours of pruning work and the azalea garden looks great!)

After my meeting, I finally had the time to walk through the Longleaf Pine Forest. Although it's been in existence since the 50's when the pond nearby was used as Mobile's water source, I've never had the opportunity to see it during my brief trips to the garden. Robin suggested I get the worm's eye view of the forest floor because this year was the heaviest seed cast in recent history. She was not exaggerating! Tiny seedlings, their cotyledons unfurling from their tan seed coats like octopi, carpeted the ground, coming up among pine needles, grasses, goldenrods (Solidago ssp.) and everything else in between. Longleafs in the grass and rocket stage were everywhere as well. The whole walk was like traveling to a different world for a moment.

Pinus palustris seedling.

Please do take a moment to appreciate this very sobering fact: prior to European settlement the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service estimates there was almost 90 million acres of longleaf pine forest stands. Today, there is only a little more than 500,000 acres. It may not be a rainforest, but the Southeastern United States is the only place in the world where the longleaf pine savanna ever existed. Please check out the Longleaf Partnership Council's website for more information.

Adventures in the Polly Mobile 2: Exploring Ledge End, Climbing Mount Holyoke and Touring Smith College

A view of Southampton, MA and the Connecticut River from the top of Mount Holyoke. It was chilly but a nice place to have a morning snack.

(Click above for photos)

It was looking to be another packed day, but since I wasn't terribly pressed I spent a little time to explore Ledge End before I left. It was a gorgeous early morning, crisp with frost and on fire in the sunshine. It was asleep for the season, but the garden had flares of adventure and creativity, much like the folks who tended it. I made my way around the garden and then was on my way to climb a mountain.

It was such a cold morning on the dark side of Mount Holyoke. I was so thankful for my ski gloves, of which I'd gotten more use of in the last couple weeks than the entire time I'd owned them, and my long-necked jacket (the best $12 I'd ever spent). The side of the mountain went straight up from the road that wound to the top of the mountain. The sun made the angle seem even more extreme. But I was bound and determined to climb it. The trail was slow to start to climb and I took the first trail I saw to begin my ascent. Only after halfway up did I realize I'd chosen a precarious deer trail instead of an official one. I eventually met up with a marked trail and completed the final push through a thick stand of Tsuga canadensis, Canadian Hemlocks. The view of the golden valley below was worth every slip. There were trails that ran the top of the range and I headed toward the Summit House, an old hotel on top of the mountain, where I knew I'd meet the road, because I sure as heck wasn't going back down the way I'd come. I met a very kind man and his dog on the porch of the hotel and we chatted about the trees and the Massachusetts winters as we both walked down the road.

My descent was much quicker than I anticipated, but I went ahead and headed to the Botanic Garden at Smith College to see my friend Elaine Chittendon. I was very early so I took the opportunity to take my time and explore the Lyman Plant House, where they had two exhibitions going on: Thesaurus Woolwardiae, Orchid Paintings by Florence Woolward; and Woods of the World. I'm glad I had the time to fully appreciate these high-quality displays. Although I came with no preconceptions, I was thoroughly impressed with the interpretive displays I saw. Smith College should definitely be on your horticultural bucket list.

Elaine with the Cyphostemma juttae, a weird member of the Vitaceae, or grape family.

I pulled myself away from the Camellia Corridor and met up with Elaine. It was so nice to see her and she was so accommodating, fielding all of my questions about the collections and the operations, and horticultural outbursts. She led me through the teaching facilities, introducing me to people along the way, and then through the conservatory for a brief introduction to the collections there, including through the two "genetics" labs. We'd put it off long enough, so we bundled up and it was out to the gardens outside.

The weather had turned grey and cold, but we were not deterred. Apparently the grounds of the college are considered part of the botanic garden, which means Elaine has to go through and keep up with the records for all the plants on campus. Elaine led me through the rock garden, telling me stories as we went, then to beds of red-twigged dogwoods, which we were both a little fuzzy on with the taxonomy. I was impressed with and probably way too excited about the huge tree ring around the historic Metasequoia glyptostroboides. Anyway, Elaine gave me a thorough tour of the campus and showed me quite a few interesting trees across campus, including the Davidia involucrata, Dove tree, which had set seed that year, and a beautiful, huge Platanus occidentalis, sycamore.

Another Google Auto-Awesome, this time of a Sparmannia africana, in the Malvaceae, or hibiscus family.

Adventures in the Polly Mobile 2: Departing Martha's Vineyard

My escape trip to the Polly Hill Arboretum was colored in my favorite shade of afternoon light.

(Click the photo above for more photos!)

It was a day of madly packing my things into my car. I had been putting off packing in lieu of doing any last-minute exploring or visiting I felt was necessary before I left the Vineyard; and I was paying the price by pushing my luck with the ferry that waits for no one.

Although I did pack most of the day, I just had to see the Arboretum one last time. Out of all of my internship experiences, not going to see the garden, whichever it was, one last time was a recurring regret of mine. I wasn't going to do it again.

I was rewarded with wonderful weather and a silent, peaceful moment of reflection in the space one last time.

As I sat in line for the ferry, my stomach rioting in a way it never had before and my mind racing about all of the logistics I had to handle when I got to the mainland, I had to recall why I had been there at all, what I'd done and seen, and remind myself it wasn't a dream. I'd had this experience, lived this life. It was all worth it, I'd do it again in a heartbeat and I will miss it dearly.

My Martha's Vineyard farewell.

First Week at the Polly Hill Arboretum and Martha's Vineyard

Despite the definite slow pace of Martha's Vineyard, the week has gone by in a blur. The island has no stop lights, the speed limits rarely go over 35, and many store owners are just now opening their shops for the coming season. Life is different at island-speed, but it is definitely a speed I don't mind abiding by.

The Polly Hill Arboretum is such a gem and is quiet as the spring slowly makes its way north. My first week as the new collections management intern has been a crash course in BGBase, the database program used to track all of the plants in the collection, and BGMaps, the mapping software used to electronically map the plantings. I also started a phenology chart for the Magnolias in the collection, meaning I monitoring which Magnolias are in flower and what stage they are at.

I've spent the time trying learn the plants in the collection, as well as familiarize myself with the native plants. Thankfully the flora of North Carolina's Coastal Plain is similar to Martha's Vineyard's sand plains area, and I learned some of them when I took my Local Flora class at N.C. State (and just to prove how small of a world it is, Bruce Sorrie, who is currently a famous botanist at the N.C. Natural Heritage Program also worked on the flora of Martha's Vineyard before he went to N.C.!).

It's really dark at night, so much so that you have to turn on your high beams to navigate the winding back roads (and avoid hitting the skunks). But, the lack of light pollution has allowed me to be able to see so many more stars than I've ever seen in my life.

About one third of the island is permanently conserved land, most of which is accessible to the public for walking and recreation. I can explore to my heart's content, whether it is going a few miles to a beach on the south side of the island, or out of the back door down a trail through The Nature Conservancy's property to see the young ospreys fly. In the eternal words of Devon, my roommate, "Life is good."