The Night No American Could Make Up

So, Saturday night an American, a Londoner, an Irishman and a lady from Spain walk into a bar…

Sounds like the lead up to a bad bar joke. But it was essentially my night.

The Fringe Festival has been the dominant festival for the time I’ve been in Edinburgh. Performers and artists are everywhere, and where they aren’t there are folks handing out bills for shows elsewhere. Most of the Royal Mile has been closed, if not for the Fringe, then for the Military Tattoo at Edinburgh Castle. What a time.

The “best mate” of the gentleman I am renting my room roped me and John into going to Animotion. I had no idea what it was about, but it was supposed to be so good the guy was going to see it again. Heck, why not experience part of the Fringe on my meager student budget? I was in.

John and I met his friends, an Irishman and his girlfriend, who was a lady from the north of Spain, at Sandy Bells, one of the finest folk bars in Edinburgh for pre-show Guinness. I couldn’t believe my ears as we all conversed, holding Guinnesses on the street corner in the center of Old Town Edinburgh. Amazing.

We made our way around the corner to the show after we finished our beers. The wrought iron gates stopped at a large, ancient stone portico where they were taking tickets. As my American eyes took in the gate, the old stone abbey beyond took the cake. The lights suddenly went off and the super moon’s bright light lit the front. Crazy. Until we came around the side of the old church and the Edinburgh Castle filled the skyline. I couldn’t make this up if I’d tried.

After the show, we made it back to Sandy Bell’s and after getting another round of drinks, I pushed our way back to small group of tables closest to the motley crew of musicians having a jam session. Folks from all over Edinburgh and the world played fiddles, there was a handful of fifes, a traditional drum, a standing base, a banjo and guitar. A gentleman from the U.S. had brought a cello-like instrument to play. A small Scottish man had brought a mandolin. By 1 a.m., after much convincing by me for the Scotsman to play the mandolin, there was a homely set of traditional songs being played. If it weren’t for the accents I’d’ve sworn I was in North Carolina.

All was suddenly well.

Animotion, a snapshot of the Fringe of Edinburgh

What I learned as I watched the light of a painter smear oil paints masterfully over the façade of the courtyard of an old stone abbey:

“Art is something that was that will never be again. But then becomes the journey to find it again.”

She brought her paintings to life in vibrant colors and great strokes but then could quickly wipe them away, change them as the musicians created music that was and never would be again. I was able to understand art for the first time in my life.

Fire on the Hill: Burning the Longleaf Pine Forest at the Mobile Botanical Garden

It was an early morning on Tuesday, but well worth it for the electric anticipation of what was going to happen: eight acres of the forest was going up in flames this day. The sun rose over the 35 acres of the treasure forest. The way it lit up the trunks and made the needle glow seemed to foretell what was coming.

Burning the longleaf forest, June 16, 2015

 (Click for more photos of the burn and other scenes of the Longleaf Pine Forest through the spring)

A crowd gathered as time got closer to when the fire crew would light the first part of the fire. Volunteers had their tasks and news crews stood ready with cameras as the fire crew came riding down Pat Ryan Drive. After Andrew said a few words, the first stream of flames were released and a defining line of fire licked away at the duff. The tell-tale smell of a campfire filled the air and smoke billowed into the morning.

Part of the fire crew watched as the fire line moved down the main drive and south through the forest. Other members of the crew went to other parts of the perimeter to set more fires. Volunteers and bystanders moved to get a better view of the expanding fire. People driving down the street slowed down to look at the flames eating away at the brush in the forest. The wind played with the smoke, blowing it this way and that; giving the scene an otherworldly appearance.

As the morning moved on, I took a moment to go closer to the smoking line to see how the Sabal palms bent beneath the touch of the fire. I then spotted a couple of ground bees flying lazily around a small opening in the fire break. Lucky, the brush had been raked away and their home wasn’t in the line of fire. The bees themselves seemed pretty confused as to what was going on as they flew in circles around the opening. Amazing luck.

I was taking a photo of them when the burn master came down from the hill and asked if I’d been to the top of the hill yet. I hadn’t because of my knee, but the tempting view helped me overcome that. 

My slow footsteps were warmed by the smoldering brush as I passed over the fire line and into the center of the burn. Spot fires were growing in front of me and the comforting crackle of fire sage and other brush catching called out from them. A large fire rose higher into the canopy as the flames reached a particularly willing patch of brush. It was a large tongue, licking the lower branches of the longleaf pine full of glistening needles. It soon calmed down and coalesced with the rest of the fire. 

A stand of longleaf pines as old as me stood in a cluster along the road, living remnants of a good seed year, much like the one we’d had this past year. I made my way through the brush towards the trail to join up with the rest of the burn crew and to see my tree cohorts wrapped in the fire. They looked good in their state of transformation, through the smoke and flashes of orange and red. 

"A Pine that Fire Built", the title of a pamphlet  in the office rang true. As I stood there watching, fire creeping along the ground and smoke filling the air, I knew the next year was going to bring new life to the forest. Fire, although seemingly impatient and all-consuming, can teach us a lesson about time and temperance. Change seems to happen in almost an instant, but real change is slow, patient and accumulates over time. This fire is just one of many that will happen, and without this one the next would not be as effective. Time is a continuum and fire is just a part of it.

Mobile Botanical Gardens: Week of April 13

Lots going on at the garden, despite the astronomical amount of rain and thunderstorms we got this week. The Rhododendron Garden is full of azaleas in various stages of flowering in all different different colors of whites, pinks, purples and reds. It really is quite amazing to walk through and observe.

Here's a photographic snippet of how things are going in the garden:

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.

I'M GOING TO EDINBURGH

Well, I have been very slow about my recent updates; I've still got three more posts from my trip back in December (and they are still coming!). It's been a pretty busy time being back in North Carolina and moving down to Mobile, Alabama.

Center circle of the Millie McConnell Rhododendron Garden in the morning light.

But, I have some very exciting news!

I've been accepted into the University of Edinburgh's Master's of Science in the Biodiversity and Taxonomy of Plants!

That's right: Edinburgh, Scotland. The year-long program is done in conjunction with the researchers at the Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh and looks to provide an incredible opportunity to gain more training and experience in field botany and applied taxonomy (also to explore the beautiful country of Scotland and be involved with RBG Edinburgh). Wow.

I have some more good news.

I will be staying on at the Mobile Botanical Garden in Mobile, AL over the summer working on the grounds and staying plugged in with their other programs. I can't wait to really dig in and get more involved in the collections.

Finally, I would like to send out a general thank you for everyone who has kept up with me and my travels. It has meant a lot to me that I have friends and family that care about me and what I'm doing. I would appreciate if you would take some time to view my GoFundMe page and think about if there is anything you would care to donate.

Just like this little Pinus palustris seedling, I am just getting started, but I am well on my way.

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.