NOT Searching for the Eastern Bloodleaf
Ouabache Trails Park
July 26, 2013
“I have traveled a good deal in Concord…”
Henry David Thoreau
We went on a walk, just a walk, Linda, Larry and I. Walking at Ouabache Trails Park through
various kinds of habitats this late July day presented a number of
treasures. It was unseasonably cool,
making our stroll that much more enjoyable.
We were not scaling a mountain, dropping through a gorge, tunneling
through a cave, untangling our way through a rainforest, or diving in a coral
reef. But, what we find in this place is
just as exotic and special.
Sometimes you have to
look very closely to find the odd unusual thing. Sometimes you don't really look at all.
Nature is that way.
You see and hear more when you just go along, not trying to find
something in particular, just finding out what is there, and what happens to
appear in a spot at the same moment that you have appeared in that spot.
One of the most ephemeral kinds of beings is the group
Fungi. Though seemingly bound to one
spot, coming from a place in the soil or attached to some decaying log, they
appear and disappear from their places in a day or less. Well, the fruiting body does so, in the form
of a mushroom. It manifests from a large
network of root-like mycelium underground or in the wood. Some networks can be very old, but the
mushrooms themselves may not appear in that place for some years, and then for
some years again after that.
Likewise, a cicada, depending upon the species, may spend as
much as seventeen years underground, gradually changing from larva to wingless
nymph. One day, it emerges, attaches to
something, molts, and climbs out to fly away with new wings, leaving behind an
incredibly detailed case.
The larvae of other flying creatures roll up leaves around
themselves, tying the leaves with sticky strands inside the new home. In here it will go through a series of
remarkable changes, and then emerge from the rolls of leaves as a seemingly
different creature, with new wings.
On our walk, we found some rosy round things on the ground
and picked one up. It looked like a
fruit, about the size of a large crabapple, but none of us had seen a fruit
like this.
It was very lightweight, unlike something full of juicy
sugar. This gave me an idea, and I cut
it open with my pocket knife.
The inside was shiny purple-red like the inside of a plum,
and the center was white. As I
suspected, there was a tiny worm in the middle, with a cavity around it.
This tiny larva, inside of the Spongy Oak Apple, will also
develop into a winged creature: a tiny
gall wasp (Amphibolips confluenta).
Meanwhile, it feasts on the nutrition provided within this orb. The tiny wasp had deposited eggs in the
budding leaf of an Oak tree. The leaf
reacted to the wound by growing a protective layer around it in the form of
round gall. Possibly, substances exuded
during the egg-laying process signaled the tree to develop this particular
form. The egg hatched within the gall,
and the resultant larva was born into an instant food source where it can also
go through metamorphosis to become a winged adult.
What, really, is considered harm? The tree heals itself and, while doing so, provides
a home and food source for the thing that caused the “hurt”. The tree is no worse for wear. The gall falls to the ground, becomes dry and
hollow with age after the winged adult has exited, and then becomes part of the
soil that nourishes the tree.
The life cycle of this particular wasp is a complex and
fascinating one, and is described in this web site:
Something similar caught my eye near a small temporary
pond. From a distance, it looked like a
fuzzy caterpillar sitting on the underside of a fallen White Oak leaf. Then I saw that it was actually four
distinct, separate parts, and I thought they were some kind of fruit or
seeds. But, how could they have landed
in a row? I managed to retrieve the leaf
from the opposite side of the little pond.
Each fuzzy ball was attached to the oak leaf's mid-vein. These were galls, again. This time, another tiny gall wasp (Acraspis erinacei) had laid
its eggs in the thick middle vein, which has the most “juice”. The leaf responded by building these galls
around the area, and around the eggs and subsequent larvae. Leaves have hairs on them, whether we can see
them clearly or not, and the “fuzz” on these galls is actually exaggerated
hair, leading to the name: Oak Hedgehog gall.
The scientist in me wanted to cut one open. The artist in me wanted to leave this lovely
row of four cream-colored orbs with their dusting of rose-colored hairs. The overall naturalist in me took photos and
did some research.
We found White Baneberry in fruit. The clusters of white flowers from spring
were replaced by these very odd fruits, called Doll's Eyes. Stray strands of web stretched between them,
marking the trail of a spider who had worked its way around these very
poisonous fruits.
Bright spots of orange on lime green: Skippers were stopping briefly on leaves of
Jewelweed, taking in the sun's warmth.
Aromatic plumes of Lizard's Tail were still in bloom in the
Wabash River floodplain …
… and a lizard ran up a nearby Cottonwood tree.
Thin-Leaved Milkweed flowers added their fruity-flowery
scent.
Meanwhile, a Prothonotary Warbler was feeding the open mouths
of it young, which were tucked into their nest in a hole of a dead tree.
A heron had been walking just within the edge of the creek,
looking for frogs, crayfish and minnows.
Roaming through wetland, floodplain, creek and woodland, we
came upon plants in many forms.
Some Buttonbush was still in bloom, white spiky balls like
asteroids. Most had dropped flower parts
and were going to seed. The spikes are
actually styles, their sticky ends ready to receive pollen grains.
Tall Bellflower blooms for a long time on tall stalks, its
star-shaped blossoms and bottle-shaped buds a sharp contrast to stiff,
straight, dark green stalks of Equisetum.
A long style extends far beyond the middle of the flower, curving upward
at the end like a snake, ensuring that it will not receive its own flower's
pollen grains, but instead receive grains from other Tall Bellflower blossoms
inadvertently delivered by insects.
The color of these petals reminds me of the “cornflower” blue
crayon in my big box of 64. The
contrasting white center draws insects toward the nectary, surrounded by a ring
of short stamens that are topped with pollen-heavy anthers.
Another flower in the blue spectrum, but more in the lavender
end, has a different, more ornate way to bring pollinators toward the
nectary. The bottom four petals of this
Hedge Nettle are fused together as a lobe with two “wings”, forming a “landing
pad”. As if this doesn't make things
easy enough for the pollinator, the landing pad sports a design with stripes
pointing toward the flower’s center, saying “Right here! This is the place!”
and eliminating any question of where to go.
It’s like having someone with flares and a glow-in-the-dark vest
directing your plane to the giant landing stripe on the runway.
Well, this flower does do one better; on the fifth petal, the
one standing above the nectary like a banner, there is an elaborate, darker
design, partly made by the upright stamens.
To humans, it may look like someone who is waving his arms in the air,
then pointing down to the nectary - “Go there! Go there!” If a
truly clueless pollinator exists, it would take one to miss all of this.
Nearby is another flower with similar tactics. This American Germander has a cup-shaped
landing pad. The bee landing there is not inclined to leave, but feels itself
enveloped and nudged forward, further guided by a beautiful magenta design that
goes directly to the flower's center.
When a bee lands on the large lip, its weight causes the lip to move
down a bit, opening the flower's center, so that only the right pollinator of
the right size can get to the nectary.
This also causes the curved style above to dip down and touch the bee on
the back, hopefully picking up some pollen grains brought from another American
Germander that the bee visited. Then a
signal is sent to those long stamens above to tip their brown anthers downward,
dropping pollen on the bee as it exits the flower (hopefully the bee will visit
another American Germander plant, where it will leave the pollen on that
style).
Plants seem like stationary beings, but they sure know how to
get places.
Another plant catches my eye, and Linda’s. With sprays of tiny flowers, it would not
catch the eye of most people, but we “plant people” notice a general silhouette
that is not familiar. We assume that the
dots are buds, or seeds.
As we get near the plant, we notice spots of red, like drops
of blood on twig tips here and there. If
we had not gone this close to it, we would never know the plant was in bloom.
On closer inspection, we found an exquisite little deep ruby
flower. A tiny green, red-trimmed lip
extends downward in front, and a curve-tipped style peeks out. Two fused petals of deep red form a loose heart
shape above, and it is all wrapped in to a cup of fused green sepals,
resembling a fancy red napkin tucked into an empty water goblet.* A dark maroon sterile stamen (just for looks)
with a paddle-shaped top curves up, attached to the red petals. In order to see
this flower’s real stamens, which are tipped with yellow, pollen-laden anthers,
you need to look further inside of the flower.
If this flower were the size of a large tropical bloom, it
would be considered exotic.
I was a little surprised to learn that this tiny flower is
visited and pollinated by the Ruby-Throated Hummingbird. Perhaps the “fake” dark stamen is designed
specifically to attract this bird. I
have not witnessed a hummingbird coming to this plant, but I do see them
visiting the many neighboring patches of Jewelweed.
We consulted our plant guides and discovered that this is
called Maryland Figwort, Late Figwort, Eastern Figwort, or Carpenter’s Square
(Scrophularia marilandica). Plants in the Figwort family have square stems,
just as those in the Mint family do.
According to Michael A. Homoya, it acquired the name Carpenter’s Square
from its “rigid, square stem”.
Another plant that was growing nearby, topped with sprays of
delicate branches dotted with white specks is another that most people would
pass by.
But, some of these white specks are open flowers glowing in
the sunlight at the ends of lime green tubes.
Many more will open, so there will be many more opportunities for
passers-by to enjoy the rewards of observant attention. Bringing a magnifying glass on a walk opens
up whole new worlds.
We had seen many plants in bloom throughout the park on this
day. As we strolled slowly down one
trail, past tall, dense stands of vegetation, Linda stopped in her tracks. Looking at one plant, she called, “Terri!”
Like the White Vervain, this one had clusters of
“insignificant” whitish flowers. It
almost resembled a common Amaranth. It
had ovate, pointed leaves, arranged in opposite pairs, with flower stalks
extending from the axils of leaf and stem.
It had … could it be? ....
We took a closer look …
Yes!! The Eastern
Bloodleaf, Iresine rhizomatosa!
This was it – the plant that Linda, Lisa and I began
searching for back on March 6 of this year, a search that I described in an
early entry to this blog, called “The Game is Afoot!: In Search of the Eastern Bloodleaf”.
The search that I had anticipated as “Part
I”. The plant long ago described by Lynn
Wiseman to Michael Homoya as being in Ouabache Trails Park.
The one rare to Indiana, and not noted from the park since
that correspondence in 1983.
There it was, with a blush of red at the axils of the lower
leaves.
We found it.
The funny thing is - it was not in an area where we thought
we would find it, and certainly not where we had been looking for it.
In fact, on this day, we were not looking for it at all.
And that is how Nature is.
*A less flattering description of the Carpenter’s Square
blossom is given on a Wikipedia site as “somewhat like a horse’s mouth with a
bad overbite”.
Homoya, Michael E.;
Wildflowers and Ferns of Indiana Forests: A Field Guide; Indiana University Press; 2012.
Eiseman, Charley and Noah Charney; Tracks and Signs of Insects and Other
Invertebrates: A Guide to North American Species; Stackpole Books; 2010.
Yatskievych, Kay; A Field Guide to Indiana Wildflowers; Indiana University Press; 2000.
This is one of my favorite of your posts so far. I felt like I was there with you all. Such fun and so many discoveries.
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