tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51093907413892849242024-03-18T16:28:22.128-04:00Burger's OnionWeird botany and horticultureMatthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.comBlogger203125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-59242289397345434752024-03-18T16:27:00.000-04:002024-03-18T16:27:50.262-04:00Worst. Sugaring Season. Ever. <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJZJ5OnNtAsvnkXy75rAYMVOG4_YOKarja0P2ibpk46mDKpCSMLRa2KDoayIfQqgd6xc1L6GwmtjpXSevQc3SfeL0nVJ2FRF8nSEcpTBc1AeDfQd0ATsriPUrimTyRlDvQ9nREGDwu5N-zORc6qfEUyghqgzNlOlDcF4T48fdw0VqP6zQ40mdiqzfIbKz_/s1500/maple.sugaring.telephonepole.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1125" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJZJ5OnNtAsvnkXy75rAYMVOG4_YOKarja0P2ibpk46mDKpCSMLRa2KDoayIfQqgd6xc1L6GwmtjpXSevQc3SfeL0nVJ2FRF8nSEcpTBc1AeDfQd0ATsriPUrimTyRlDvQ9nREGDwu5N-zORc6qfEUyghqgzNlOlDcF4T48fdw0VqP6zQ40mdiqzfIbKz_/s320/maple.sugaring.telephonepole.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p> 2024 was a memorably poor maple sugaring season in Connecticut; certainly the worst since I began keeping a close eye on maple sugaring, in ca. 2010, though I'm not yet sure what the old timers are saying. I started my one tap in late January, about three weeks earlier than the traditional start time, to try to get ahead of the warm weather, but even that was probably too late. I collected maybe 8 gallons of sap by early February, brewed a few pots of maple sap tea, boiled the rest down to about 2 cups of nice light amber syrup, and that was it. The tap has been dry since the first or second week of February. All in all my total production was about what you would expect from a single decent week in what ought to be a six week season. </p><p> What went wrong? I have a few ideas, mostly warm-weather related:</p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>It's been a really warm winter, with only a couple of weeks of snow cover, and no serious cold periods to speak of. According to NOAA data via <a href="https://www.wunderground.com/article/news/weather/news/2024-02-29-record-warmest-winter-midwest-northeast-snow">Weather Underground</a>, meteorological winter (Dec 2023-Feb. 2024) was the warmest on record for a large swath of the Midwest and Northeast, and near-record-warm in southern New England, with temperatures averaging about 6-8 degrees Fahrenheit above normal. Sugar Maples need a cold winter dormancy to stay healthy, and in particular require freezing nights and daytime thaws in late winter to trigger sap flows. </li><li>The growing season last year was generally cloudy, humid and rainy. This meant less sun than usual for photosynthesis, and thus less sugar stored by the trees. The soggy summer of '23 also caused a widespread outbreak of a fungal leaf disease, <a href="https://publications.extension.uconn.edu/2023/09/05/ask-uconn-extension-whats-wrong-with-the-maple-trees/">Maple Anthracnose</a>, which caused leaf drop and an early end to the growing season in late summer. </li><li>2023 was also a "mast year" for Sugar Maples, meaning that they set much more seed than usual. So, in addition to losing out on sugar-producing opportunities last year due to cloudy weather and disease, the trees were using up much more energy and nutrients than in a typical year, making tons of seeds. Excessive seed production last summer probably left the Sugar Maples with less sugar than normal stored in their trunks this winter. </li></ul> I suspect that all of these factors were in play, with bad weather last summer, a massive "mast" production of seeds, and an overly warm winter weakening the maple trees and sending them into 2024 with less stored sugar than normal. Then, record warmth and spotty snow in January and February led to an early, brief and unproductive sugaring season. Strong <i>El Nino</i> climate conditions would have contributed to the warmth and storminess, against a backdrop of steady temperature rise from global warming; the fact that a mast year coincided with these factors was just bad luck. We'll see how the trees do this spring and summer. I'm hoping they will recover quickly, but the long-term outlook for species of cool northern forests, like Sugar Maple, in southern New England is probably not fabulous. <br /><div><p><br /></p><p> </p></div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-4292683292205260412023-12-31T16:34:00.001-05:002023-12-31T16:42:38.432-05:00Mt. Washington Wildflowers<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjROyXe2G-rVSVMOXiG13h9G_Eal5cK59e3wnDhITyVx074ou_xdhM18hzDNYL_nByDp0FrUImLdnlzZAHHKNxSvh6jXtYc5vc5RKXSJwaylBGE0TsSBAhrG5GZ5ralpvZq_vqAfIx7eX0qR-2gfNIwsSF6D4kjt45kNfOPuWVaeX_8cwK9aJ3wZIhXsT9-/s1500/mtwash.cairn.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjROyXe2G-rVSVMOXiG13h9G_Eal5cK59e3wnDhITyVx074ou_xdhM18hzDNYL_nByDp0FrUImLdnlzZAHHKNxSvh6jXtYc5vc5RKXSJwaylBGE0TsSBAhrG5GZ5ralpvZq_vqAfIx7eX0qR-2gfNIwsSF6D4kjt45kNfOPuWVaeX_8cwK9aJ3wZIhXsT9-/s320/mtwash.cairn.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Cairn on the way to the summit of Mt. Washington, NH. July 2023.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table> Mount Washington is the highest mountain in New England, and infamous for the "worst weather in the world," including the highest wind speed ever recorded outside of a tornado or tropical cyclone. The strange, vast landscape of broken rocks on top of Washington and its neighboring peaks and ridges is home to a unique flora, with a mix of widespread north-temperate woodland plants, as well as rare stragglers from the last ice age, which are mostly confined to the arctic today. <br /><p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNI0xqLNPKeiBRsPMS8EOnobTUiNfkXpNKSC09tbv7qWIimT2PyWXN0vYMhAWt4MA43m22bdiE08GpzphBoUBni1THmXohpgEu1pwInFNMscubV7LUv0gdzn0vFVBN8waEiT8C1DU5C7JHxxAOKc1wyEsmaSIevLG3q39Z3r9pA9vGTkogVWF7dsk5Ts5W/s1500/maianthmum.mt.washington.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNI0xqLNPKeiBRsPMS8EOnobTUiNfkXpNKSC09tbv7qWIimT2PyWXN0vYMhAWt4MA43m22bdiE08GpzphBoUBni1THmXohpgEu1pwInFNMscubV7LUv0gdzn0vFVBN8waEiT8C1DU5C7JHxxAOKc1wyEsmaSIevLG3q39Z3r9pA9vGTkogVWF7dsk5Ts5W/s320/maianthmum.mt.washington.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maianthemum canadense<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><i>Maianthemum canadense</i>, the ubiquitous Canada Mayflower, grows in my lawn back in Connecticut, literally a few feet from my door, and is also common in the shelter of rocks quite near the summit of Mt. Washington. On the mountain, the plants were in bloom not in May, but in the middle of July. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg21zslTUBEYlYSIpy-nANarB2PE5mD1IhbaaKBOdG4-pt_KO1kf4Ieyo1x423VOdfwHhMKLC6ttCpAn0gEJiik09SJzCwvNFr8-Tih1-UokrwYEZ9jpq2H7rGuAaHGWMmxwoipSSCjFbOOuDSA2Ab4UmPogzMXOXqzJZbhr3jSPeOh-PKABDHIVlcKqv2s/s1500/trientalis.borealis.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg21zslTUBEYlYSIpy-nANarB2PE5mD1IhbaaKBOdG4-pt_KO1kf4Ieyo1x423VOdfwHhMKLC6ttCpAn0gEJiik09SJzCwvNFr8-Tih1-UokrwYEZ9jpq2H7rGuAaHGWMmxwoipSSCjFbOOuDSA2Ab4UmPogzMXOXqzJZbhr3jSPeOh-PKABDHIVlcKqv2s/s320/trientalis.borealis.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trientalis borealis<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p> Starflower (<i>Trientalis</i>) is a common spring wildflower in my
area. As with Canada Mayflower, its blooming season was delayed by about
two months at high altitude in the Presedentials. I think that the chartreuse-and-black lichen on the rocks in most of these photos is <i>Rhizocarpon geographicum</i>, Yellow Map Lichen. <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgqSWT3koj47uMcrUoMxhWEuexuexSX4TebEDDIZ0jV9LWHBIPpCz5RWOP-Or-UaPLw_tncVZyx42Hh2CX0XF3KVVPFEPd29unI6_kajEmaYzltuUH51mTYOgNpR1EpCfh9z9lhq8bqYGT2G2w3TsHnCbgQi_TpumwcOllg8yd022sZ493xLBzaJIMfp9D/s1500/clintonia.mt.washington.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgqSWT3koj47uMcrUoMxhWEuexuexSX4TebEDDIZ0jV9LWHBIPpCz5RWOP-Or-UaPLw_tncVZyx42Hh2CX0XF3KVVPFEPd29unI6_kajEmaYzltuUH51mTYOgNpR1EpCfh9z9lhq8bqYGT2G2w3TsHnCbgQi_TpumwcOllg8yd022sZ493xLBzaJIMfp9D/s320/clintonia.mt.washington.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maianthemum<i>, with </i>Clintonia brorealis <i>and </i>Chamaepericlymenum (Cornus) canadense<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>Shaded, sheltered slopes above treeline on Mt. Washington are also home to Clintonia and Bunchberry, two typical woodland wildflowers of northern New England. These occur south into Connecticut, but aren't common in my area. In the lowlands, these bloom a month or so later than Canada Mayflower, but their flowering seasons were all crammed together into mid-July on the mountaintop. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLOXL7OuVJ29Q2BMDbAeyFcwFY6fv1-4aG9cegL-v0rkXe6usiAeFXCq2FtOtcLPfJPfDmyr0wcldIzOAaE8GyXH9Y1SUeQB1IiRzi9cIR6VWM2L9dCQD-mAvTx_1GgykUWj4t3y72xtEeXpnB7HeYTmcJU8KEP2_QVV0_fP5fM93MthqRz0xl04Ibv7nM/s1500/phegopteris.connectilis.mt.washington.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLOXL7OuVJ29Q2BMDbAeyFcwFY6fv1-4aG9cegL-v0rkXe6usiAeFXCq2FtOtcLPfJPfDmyr0wcldIzOAaE8GyXH9Y1SUeQB1IiRzi9cIR6VWM2L9dCQD-mAvTx_1GgykUWj4t3y72xtEeXpnB7HeYTmcJU8KEP2_QVV0_fP5fM93MthqRz0xl04Ibv7nM/s320/phegopteris.connectilis.mt.washington.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phegopteris connectilis<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>The fern that grows closest to the summit of Mt. Washington (that I saw) was Narrow Beech Fern, <i>Phegopteris connectilis</i>. In southern New England, N.B.F. is a delicate little fern of cool, shady ravines and streamsides, and it was a bit of a surprise to see it near the wind-blasted peak of Washington. It was confined to seepy crevices and the shelter of overhanging rocks. <i>Dryopteris </i>species (Wood Ferns) started to appear at lower altitude, near tree line and in stunted alpine Balsam Fir forest, or <i>Krummholz</i>. <br /></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTKV4CtJ_FYRzEavyOlcfIiYDwTKzDY2O93JJCtVRDScQG6p44XVa51S2t89scXlA8D_EbZB70roj7tOVQ_CNj8TaYifxSrXFNKws4YziKa1Q-COob9EhOcTTAl3Q7LR57aJsRItZ79RTZubwdcOHvucORtU8lf1IfEHe4jn-fbLTdctmlAzKSrDz3eMdB/s1500/diapensia.lapponica.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTKV4CtJ_FYRzEavyOlcfIiYDwTKzDY2O93JJCtVRDScQG6p44XVa51S2t89scXlA8D_EbZB70roj7tOVQ_CNj8TaYifxSrXFNKws4YziKa1Q-COob9EhOcTTAl3Q7LR57aJsRItZ79RTZubwdcOHvucORtU8lf1IfEHe4jn-fbLTdctmlAzKSrDz3eMdB/s320/diapensia.lapponica.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Diapensia lapponica <i>and </i>Sibbaldiopsis tridentata<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><i>Diapensia</i> or Cushion-plant is one of the relictual arctic plants of Mt. Washington, growing as tight mats and mounds of leafy rosettes on fully exposed ridgelines. It is one of only two representatives of the minor family Diapensiaceae (order Ericales) that I have ever seen in person, the other being <i>Galax</i>, a beloved high-altitude wildflower of Appalachian peaks. <i>Diapensia</i> is in fruit in the photo; the white flowers are Three-toothed Cinquefoil (<i>Sibbaldiopsis</i>, or formerly <i>Potentilla tridentata</i>), which was growing squeezed in between the <i>Diapensia</i> rosettes. <i>Diapensia</i> is rare in New England, growing on only the highest peaks in the far north, whereas <i>Sibbaldiopsis</i> is a widespread inhabitant of rocky, open hill and mountain tops. <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi78XCK27PR5hIrQqQ_yCZD7SazRfafDLyxMC8Tm5_eZtUDv3aE2IrveTFQ_ybgfQIvvZ7mDJVQW_lOcakyVv-1gcQpJb7zACphYzQ4urdw90D8b8nUDsExT0TZlQmPnV-N_koZud63wZ8c4FmxzPKeevZGL4miM2djZr7rVisxqn0mzmlMHo413dj6QF2D/s1500/ledum.vaccinium.uliginosum.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi78XCK27PR5hIrQqQ_yCZD7SazRfafDLyxMC8Tm5_eZtUDv3aE2IrveTFQ_ybgfQIvvZ7mDJVQW_lOcakyVv-1gcQpJb7zACphYzQ4urdw90D8b8nUDsExT0TZlQmPnV-N_koZud63wZ8c4FmxzPKeevZGL4miM2djZr7rVisxqn0mzmlMHo413dj6QF2D/s320/ledum.vaccinium.uliginosum.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rhododendron groenlandicum <i>with</i> Vaccinium uliginosum<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>Labrador Tea, formerly genus <i>Ledum</i> but now classified as <i>Rhododendron groenlandicum</i>, is a shrub of the arctic tundra and wet boreal forest, that gets down into New England as a resident of alpine habitats and sphagnum bogs. The leaves have a pleasant wintergreen scent, and can indeed be used to brew an herbal tea. The photo of Labrador Tea in flower also includes a small, round-leaved blueberry relative, Alpine Bilberry (<i>Vaccinium uliginosum</i>), which is another arctic shrub that persists as an alpine plant in temperate climates. Bilberry seems to be the woody plant that grows at the highest altitudes on Mt. Washington, almost all the way up to the summit. <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW0_yHTsCN1YBFmhP92BoWYA5MwBs5bSTVdinYtEPU1aVU_Nr3TMUzViz_KCCxzHGrmfT8Noj1h69NH5VHjkjc14zMGdW4IE4a4jUs_arwFqo73XiXLXRaOtnjn7ijfelGYSkf8iBNgM2s4FRoPffi3SlM-ofk_NrTZL_7YctDqkXX90Mkhxn1nCg9aiSH/s1500/mt.wash.minuartia.groenlandica.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW0_yHTsCN1YBFmhP92BoWYA5MwBs5bSTVdinYtEPU1aVU_Nr3TMUzViz_KCCxzHGrmfT8Noj1h69NH5VHjkjc14zMGdW4IE4a4jUs_arwFqo73XiXLXRaOtnjn7ijfelGYSkf8iBNgM2s4FRoPffi3SlM-ofk_NrTZL_7YctDqkXX90Mkhxn1nCg9aiSH/s320/mt.wash.minuartia.groenlandica.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Minuartia groenlandica<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>Greenland Stitchwort (<i>Minuartia groenlandic</i>a, formerly genus <i>Arenaria</i>) is a tiny clumping plant that grows very close to the summit area, often in disturbed gravelly areas. Weirdly, this alpine/arctic species also apparently occurs in a few low-altitude <a href="https://gobotany.nativeplanttrust.org/species/minuartia/groenlandica/">coastal populations in Maine</a>. <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQfQCOCvPSZJ_FUY3JvABbrSMl9OeT8rZ218vQsp4gHDf8ERw4HS6keRkSk8qeHLxzf-J1pw83-Q7nVtGCjDIVOoSbgsH45VmIx_9v9flLZgilvqFACze2fCRfQTHEZSfe6H00nJSOvu3RtuDcUNj4Od2em-E01XX9DFMHIOLgfdk-qGfHsLWiTocmXIcD/s1500/salix.argyrocarpa.white.mt.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQfQCOCvPSZJ_FUY3JvABbrSMl9OeT8rZ218vQsp4gHDf8ERw4HS6keRkSk8qeHLxzf-J1pw83-Q7nVtGCjDIVOoSbgsH45VmIx_9v9flLZgilvqFACze2fCRfQTHEZSfe6H00nJSOvu3RtuDcUNj4Od2em-E01XX9DFMHIOLgfdk-qGfHsLWiTocmXIcD/s320/salix.argyrocarpa.white.mt.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salix argyrocarpa</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>Mt. Washington is home to several species of low-growing arctic willows, at the southern limits of their distributions, as well as some hybrids among them. I'm not sure that I can identify the ones that I saw from my photos, but this one is possibly <i>Salix argyrocarpa</i>, Labrador Willow. <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR5BsOgIyz7Ncg0KaQ4S4w7MMLr6k6j67IdFyvrtJnZ5O18dgFGB4vqyHmKH5B79aQm91qN5mfHY8YZ9uMEyihEDJBgmGYqJINIUVkJRsfYjkwXrEQXkBkaGJtXQtiifmqQkzkk7QLo3xeoy-dx-zi6DWNH_htnswCSTwzmhRc1JMr3AESrnykvdUXKR1Y/s1500/tuckermans.ravine.snow.july12.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR5BsOgIyz7Ncg0KaQ4S4w7MMLr6k6j67IdFyvrtJnZ5O18dgFGB4vqyHmKH5B79aQm91qN5mfHY8YZ9uMEyihEDJBgmGYqJINIUVkJRsfYjkwXrEQXkBkaGJtXQtiifmqQkzkk7QLo3xeoy-dx-zi6DWNH_htnswCSTwzmhRc1JMr3AESrnykvdUXKR1Y/s320/tuckermans.ravine.snow.july12.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Tuckerman Ravine, with one patch of snow left on July 12, 2023.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p> Mt. Washington is cold enough that there is some permafrost at the top. A bit of snow remained in Tuckerman Ravine when I visited in July this year; it's difficult to get a sense of scale from the photos, but that little white spot is as big as a house. The weather was relatively mild and pleasant for the start of my hike, but the clouds closed in and the weather took a turn for the worse in the afternoon. My group, some of whom had climbed from the base at the AMC center at Pinkham Notch, got to experience a taste of the worst weather on Earth, but were very glad that I had driven my car to the summit. After taking some pics with the summit sign, with fog all around and about 20 feet visability, we crammed into the car and had an easy drive out of the arctic tundra, back down to the familiar New England woods. <br /></p><p><br /></p>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-71110641490302960092023-02-17T12:35:00.001-05:002023-02-17T12:35:50.115-05:00Conophytum Webinar<div style="text-align: left;"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtsEEcSE-8e_dmdf7L_LQXWku8qVw4_lYOlvzjRuxhKCbOeIlnbVjpZxXWG7Hi9qZdiIH7P4tpznRbLGjrX_nKQAsBS_cQz25_ziueYy9VLd0iktEMXY0AHuNt5GjI62Wo7HznrR8X_6OCO_gnOW3NRbpc8N93Di0SP26VeckfbU2QJkiDlAQ-5C4ONA/s968/opel.conophytum.webinar.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="968" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtsEEcSE-8e_dmdf7L_LQXWku8qVw4_lYOlvzjRuxhKCbOeIlnbVjpZxXWG7Hi9qZdiIH7P4tpznRbLGjrX_nKQAsBS_cQz25_ziueYy9VLd0iktEMXY0AHuNt5GjI62Wo7HznrR8X_6OCO_gnOW3NRbpc8N93Di0SP26VeckfbU2QJkiDlAQ-5C4ONA/s320/opel.conophytum.webinar.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I'm going to be doing an online talk about <i>Conophytum </i>this Saturday, February 18, at 1:00 PM EST. This will be hosted by the Cactus and Succulent Society of America and is free; register at the<a href="http://cactusandsucculentsociety.org/"> CSSA website</a>. A recording will be available on the CSSA Facebook page for a limited time, the week following the live talk. The presentation will be "Conophytums of Distinction" and will be a general introduction to these charming little succulents, with a focus on special varieties, cultivars and hybrids in cultivation. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">On Sunday I'm going to be doing another Zoom talk, on "Cape Geophytes," about South African bulbs, tubers and corms, for the <a href="https://cascadecss.com/">Cascade Cactus and Succulent Society</a> in Seattle. I'm not sure if there will be a way for non-members of the Cascade cactus club to view this one. <br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-18545153173666131752023-02-12T15:30:00.002-05:002023-02-12T15:34:27.915-05:00Superb Owl Sunday<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmeILof3okSW8JJqGDQc7GJknSdVYW7J61sqIdvi-aSOdqiUAPngt817VtvLo_vXG-9npS87jAyip-voIf9rxO8QTOEZ4l9nYIq_3s63U7LjV0LZE5SZNehnKwHVd33U73Nk_4hVeXhkiVn-1GH4QfnB9-feVcLlAkq_zKaWClfj513SjWGtcG5boSPA/s1716/barredowl.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1260" data-original-width="1716" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmeILof3okSW8JJqGDQc7GJknSdVYW7J61sqIdvi-aSOdqiUAPngt817VtvLo_vXG-9npS87jAyip-voIf9rxO8QTOEZ4l9nYIq_3s63U7LjV0LZE5SZNehnKwHVd33U73Nk_4hVeXhkiVn-1GH4QfnB9-feVcLlAkq_zKaWClfj513SjWGtcG5boSPA/s320/barredowl.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Barred Owl </i>(<span><span class="LrzXr kno-fv wHYlTd z8gr9e">Strix varia) <i>in Mansfield, Ct, December 2019.</i><br /></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p><br />You can tell that this owl photo is from a couple of winters back, because it was actually snowing then. The winter of 2022-23 has been practically snow-free so far, with January temperatures running about 10 degrees (F) above normal, and only two severe but short-lived cold snaps, one last weekend and one around Christmas. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyl96k8bSV5fe2ESPzEmz--rO1nMTran65fucjTZeb4DBnChiFEwFdvpxzEGU20BG_xHhS08Gzz3d9RBbinFn0F9JbDUuSSBSvtuSDUqM3qZuyBckDUgoSbSdk2ZnlIErKLTqsVIzKM3BguuuV0PMGHHoDF_mEgAkVzNNPRq8ytJNkstgsK0t4flSx3A/s1500/maple%20syrup.2023.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyl96k8bSV5fe2ESPzEmz--rO1nMTran65fucjTZeb4DBnChiFEwFdvpxzEGU20BG_xHhS08Gzz3d9RBbinFn0F9JbDUuSSBSvtuSDUqM3qZuyBckDUgoSbSdk2ZnlIErKLTqsVIzKM3BguuuV0PMGHHoDF_mEgAkVzNNPRq8ytJNkstgsK0t4flSx3A/s320/maple%20syrup.2023.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Maple sap collection, Feb 11, 2023</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>I wasn't certain how to handle maple sugaring in a winter like this, and held off on tapping any trees until after the cold outbreak last week. The sap has been flowing like gangbusters the past few days, with my one tap yielding about two gallons per day. I probably could have gotten started in January; I hear that some local sugar shacks started their operations weeks ago. The weather looks good for sugaring in the immediate future, with freezes most nights and some more unseasonably warm days, but I'd also expect the season to end early if this pattern continues. </p><p> --</p><p>Just in time for Darwin Day, researchers in the Yuan Lab here at UConn have published a prestigious <a href="https://www.science.org/toc/science/379/6632">cover article</a> in the journal <i>Science</i>. The work deals with the mechanisms of speciation within the genus <i>Mimulus</i> (Monkeyflowers), where a novel gene that produces small, regulatory RNA molecules, is involved in the evolution of changes in flower color and pollination syndrome. There is a less-technical article on the research in <a href="https://today.uconn.edu/2023/02/yellow-evolution-unique-genes-led-to-new-species-of-monkeyflower/">UConn Today</a>. The <i>Science </i>editors apparently didn't think that the Yuan lab's photos of <i>Mimulus</i> flowers were quite of the quality that they wanted, so they had a professional photographer poking around the greenhouses last month to get some additional illustrations, which is how I first learned about the new publication. <br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-45258092804388713922022-10-31T16:46:00.004-04:002022-11-01T13:27:34.030-04:00Halloween Corpse Flower<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxDnEPFPfNTdzOZM1v0sbGGNpPMC3kKJ-Pdw0lvaYJlPyEtGNNf1zIehmKe2WWaOFOzNeMxxGt9uqvB5VMYXC-UY2OJo7xYYaMr-w7ns9GccwyEoTbK65ebc1B5Q1wna1KNxQ1NEkm8PuhM_8LY9mfipx90hrKojSauKph-B1jHI3H0SxtCRbFNRffHw/s1600/amo.titanum.easternct.2022.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxDnEPFPfNTdzOZM1v0sbGGNpPMC3kKJ-Pdw0lvaYJlPyEtGNNf1zIehmKe2WWaOFOzNeMxxGt9uqvB5VMYXC-UY2OJo7xYYaMr-w7ns9GccwyEoTbK65ebc1B5Q1wna1KNxQ1NEkm8PuhM_8LY9mfipx90hrKojSauKph-B1jHI3H0SxtCRbFNRffHw/s320/amo.titanum.easternct.2022.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /> Just in time for Halloween, a Corpse Flower (<i>Amorphophallus titanum</i>) bloomed last night in the greenhouse at Eastern Connecticut State University. The teaching/research greenhouses there are not usually open to the public, but Prof. Bryan Connolly was kind enough to allow people in to see it on a Sunday evening. <p></p><p>Here at UConn Storrs, we have a few <i>A. titanum</i> plants that are getting to be fairly large, but are still immature. It may be a couple of years before we get flowers. </p><p>--</p><p>There was a <a href="https://www.courant.com/news/connecticut/hc-news-willimantic-corpse-flower-20221101-q46imftm3fh7fem5vwbjjtw2mq-story.html">short article</a> about the ECSU Corpse Flower in the Hartford Courant. <br /></p>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-23104560956834173382022-05-11T16:48:00.001-04:002022-05-11T16:51:00.016-04:00Pine Tree Down!<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3iqkC_JylBX-XsGG4hMqB8f5LQnNhdC_jT1LCU4OEyhi8Q7YPT3QRRbL6UBl_LoeTrjujaTVvA_ATEvAtA_OmrD48NhdGltD0EVjpNDGX2ZmZxHB6WDDNgPA3p0Jn7uVu4Dl8EDEZJQXGM4ZPh4GexR9dA9xdqVEYMBJJngHvAYYWA2TIf0J-3uC44Q/s1400/pine.door.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1400" data-original-width="1050" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3iqkC_JylBX-XsGG4hMqB8f5LQnNhdC_jT1LCU4OEyhi8Q7YPT3QRRbL6UBl_LoeTrjujaTVvA_ATEvAtA_OmrD48NhdGltD0EVjpNDGX2ZmZxHB6WDDNgPA3p0Jn7uVu4Dl8EDEZJQXGM4ZPh4GexR9dA9xdqVEYMBJJngHvAYYWA2TIf0J-3uC44Q/s320/pine.door.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Knock, knock. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table> <p></p><p>It's been terribly windy in eastern Connecticut for the past few days, apparently because of a powerful offshore storm. The worst of the wind was Sunday (May 8 2022), when a good sized Eastern White Pine (<i>Pinus strobus</i>) was blown over in the woods next to my house, falling uncomfortably close to structures, with the tree's top coming right down a stair case and grazing my side door. There wasn't any significant damage, fortunately, though my old pallet-wood compost bin is no longer with us. I wasn't around at the time, but my sweetie says the noise was terrifying and that it briefly looked and sounded like a tornado was going by outside. Strangely, the sky was clear and the sun was out for the whole event. The local weather station recorded 30 mph gusts that day, but this must have been stronger. I'm not even sure what this sort of weather would be called... is a blue-sky microburst a thing? <br /><br /></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtW2jR8oW0ozuhfQX63k1XAibAAdiSspmwL9mehGht0rS9014yma9K8MEWeKhx-Oe9pN1cuiKhpJWEMg-vAutOLA7PMTaPSxWRgdvlnQuFgj1JWqxyrZ7lL5UShVADuJP4syYqxJyh46eX-IjP-AQW6bD50_n8Y4DTL6TEr19ZX4uGZ90rTCVOWJL8Q/s1500/pine.compostheap.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtW2jR8oW0ozuhfQX63k1XAibAAdiSspmwL9mehGht0rS9014yma9K8MEWeKhx-Oe9pN1cuiKhpJWEMg-vAutOLA7PMTaPSxWRgdvlnQuFgj1JWqxyrZ7lL5UShVADuJP4syYqxJyh46eX-IjP-AQW6bD50_n8Y4DTL6TEr19ZX4uGZ90rTCVOWJL8Q/s320/pine.compostheap.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The compost bin has received a major new contribution. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> The tree was actually half of a pine with a forked trunk, which was clearly a weak point. The downed portion has a diameter of about 12 inches. The tree was about 50 years old. It's actually easy to get a more or less exact age for a youngish pine tree like this, without taking a core or cutting a clean section of the base to count rings. A pine branch that is actively growing produces exactly one whorl of new branches at its tip each year. So, you can pick a healthy branch and start counting whorls from the tip back to the trunk, then count whorls of branches down the trunk as far as you can go, and you have the age in years. In older pines the lower, overtopped branches eventually die, fall off, heal over and disappear, but this takes quite a while to happen. For this tree I couldn't find any sign of branch whorls only for the 2-3 feet at the very base, which I would guesstimate took the then-young pine seedling about 5 years to achieve back in the 1970s. (The scars from branch whorls that I can see low on the trunk are far apart, indicating that the tree was growing quickly and the environment must have been much more open and sunny.)<br /><p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7roBZqFGlnniIgbO91SdwOW1BsAMP5uFv1T0HMYe5Vmlqh4daPM2Z8Jy3CzLtPDszhqTuhKHEEQJ8Dabx5a1_TH4AxSm1JI8eomoNhY56nmGHj7i4a16km3Ar_I-51b5VjdFEt1KVHI6WbvyTR534x6VFaSEm4IIhl0GCn1X1i4MiFC91stt14afFUA/s1500/pinus.strobus.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1125" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7roBZqFGlnniIgbO91SdwOW1BsAMP5uFv1T0HMYe5Vmlqh4daPM2Z8Jy3CzLtPDszhqTuhKHEEQJ8Dabx5a1_TH4AxSm1JI8eomoNhY56nmGHj7i4a16km3Ar_I-51b5VjdFEt1KVHI6WbvyTR534x6VFaSEm4IIhl0GCn1X1i4MiFC91stt14afFUA/s320/pinus.strobus.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Two years worth of growth from one of the upper branches of the pine. The tip and whorl of branches at the lower part of the photo is from 2021, and the stem and branches above are from 2020. <br /></i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> I'm not sure if the remaining half of the pine will survive; possibly not after losing so much of itself and with a big open wound in its trunk. It would probably be a good idea to take the rest of it down, especially if it seems to be in decline this summer. Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-1429510960219288602022-04-11T16:36:00.001-04:002022-04-11T16:38:55.783-04:00The Cactus Show Returns<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnNFRuyS2O3gZCJx9aPPUqO8bbTKM1nvthgxCgERQJ6fBL69vi4OTvBxXuNwoH0JUs5he6afL8nwqLw4zTaMSuTYlywZheAQIx01MTuQa_f1gaayTyaGF4TvMJvWFtXg4JKF5N8TKINqIa-ANFHFIQWpToikdMj1HRQCL5xKDbLP55HvWmgXJ_BMRYtg/s1700/showplants2022.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1275" data-original-width="1700" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnNFRuyS2O3gZCJx9aPPUqO8bbTKM1nvthgxCgERQJ6fBL69vi4OTvBxXuNwoH0JUs5he6afL8nwqLw4zTaMSuTYlywZheAQIx01MTuQa_f1gaayTyaGF4TvMJvWFtXg4JKF5N8TKINqIa-ANFHFIQWpToikdMj1HRQCL5xKDbLP55HvWmgXJ_BMRYtg/s320/showplants2022.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Euphorbias at the judged show, CCSS 2022.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>The Connecticut Cactus & Succulent Society's annual show and sale was held this weekend, for the first time in three years. It was great to see everyone in person again! This was the first convention-type large public event that I've participated in for a while. People generally seemed to be acting responsibly and respectfully, and the two-day show proceeded without any notable hiccups. <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy8SHIl4wjldzH6HfB-WEILhgM8eUTIspOy8UF-B5M-ULigHiewtuAaspuT6uceAQmersCJw5jQCYtfwBMlRdPtKPWjTK55TqGZ0qDb_1sTXnGoKrCgIzR4eE0vuQY4Ki2Um5IveLjS5-_hdVRhRfj9dDNf8MJe48j-lCLDKIhcxdOTqHHcOeqEI-UXw/s1500/ccss.show22.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy8SHIl4wjldzH6HfB-WEILhgM8eUTIspOy8UF-B5M-ULigHiewtuAaspuT6uceAQmersCJw5jQCYtfwBMlRdPtKPWjTK55TqGZ0qDb_1sTXnGoKrCgIzR4eE0vuQY4Ki2Um5IveLjS5-_hdVRhRfj9dDNf8MJe48j-lCLDKIhcxdOTqHHcOeqEI-UXw/s320/ccss.show22.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Rick Logee's Rare Plants in the vendor area.</i> <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p> The 2022 show was a bit scaled back in most respects, with a rough estimate of visitor numbers being about half of the attendance achieved at shows in the mid-2010s. There weren't as many entries in the judged show, either, and some of the usual volunteers running the show were mostly or entirely absent for various reasons (this last deficit was partially offset by some newer CCSS members stepping up to help). I for one was OK with the 2022 show being a lower-key affair than some of the more hectic pre-pandemic shows; it was a good way to ease back into the show routine. <br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA0oMhji-1l4vBtHHE9bTBEYzVDUQnOSZCkot2WGtvlX8-UFqj3xJr1Zxmi_s6hQpqGc34Dh8fAPfejF0Xle-Qp-5QpHUtkpyP5QiDTgGDJYizyzmmw-iQObEFHDSTv_Ei87eKhwE6EWyHtAqsmwQ3Ud-eoDzAyl3kOCaxe-PFVB4AbAi7HfZNINA81Q/s320/johnspain.photos.jpeg" width="240" /></div><p></p><p> The former cactus show regular whose absence was most missed this year was John Spain, a founding member of the CCSS who passed away at age 100 this winter. John was a pioneer in growing winter-hardy cacti and succulents in cold, humid climates. There was a tribute to John set up in one corner of the show, with photos, newspaper articles and awards from his decades in the cactus club. <br /></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi45wI9AAUGmdeuP6lrWGiv3DP99BqDYvIi_WmiRMq4WJHxhYDnI-g1r2baXCCFvyv2Fp3PodmqL9_dKkfMfY7JLJZNyX9WVx7B_pLPq6Hjgy7zI9sLZnHWhuqHMiRj00EhxXSufzeuXpWV1Eaxa_ROnQbpe-8bR3OOga_DYQFLjmskAdkM6mQpZTY0-Q/s1500/ccss.auction22.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi45wI9AAUGmdeuP6lrWGiv3DP99BqDYvIi_WmiRMq4WJHxhYDnI-g1r2baXCCFvyv2Fp3PodmqL9_dKkfMfY7JLJZNyX9WVx7B_pLPq6Hjgy7zI9sLZnHWhuqHMiRj00EhxXSufzeuXpWV1Eaxa_ROnQbpe-8bR3OOga_DYQFLjmskAdkM6mQpZTY0-Q/s320/ccss.auction22.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Guilio Sista came out of retirement as auctioneer for one of the plant auctions. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <p></p>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-86558730122273576062022-03-12T17:47:00.001-05:002022-03-12T17:47:45.982-05:00Maple Sugaring 2022<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSDEv0NrMRPO5iQ26XQ1dHT4_hoYib1VGsSY0l1flugN1ZAz6AHkL4i3OZyqNPEk9nadhde4IEnTGOQaw6M1GZNJozW0GLzuqqiaBPTtpAqU-CjtjN-cKpBQBHJ7zFS1wwh0mmT6Yl92bRaJrF9reoJjWpKLj_cr_fhOvpNXT432dBORvsLNiNHrjDnw=s1500" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSDEv0NrMRPO5iQ26XQ1dHT4_hoYib1VGsSY0l1flugN1ZAz6AHkL4i3OZyqNPEk9nadhde4IEnTGOQaw6M1GZNJozW0GLzuqqiaBPTtpAqU-CjtjN-cKpBQBHJ7zFS1wwh0mmT6Yl92bRaJrF9reoJjWpKLj_cr_fhOvpNXT432dBORvsLNiNHrjDnw=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /> The winter freeze-up was pretty late this year in southern New England, with the real cold holding off until January, but it was actually too cold for much sap flow for a few weeks after the traditional start of maple sugaring season on Valentine's Day, which is a rare occurrence these days. Since the beginning of March temperatures have been more seasonable, with some warm sunny days, some rain and some snow, and the sugar maples have been quite productive. Last week my lone tap produced about 12 gallons of sap, which boiled down to one quart of syrup, for a 48:1 ratio (the ideal ratio usually cited is 40:1). </p><p>There is a big winter storm moving through today, with a bit of cold rain, snow and a lot of wind, and the next day or so will provide a good solid freeze to reset the sap flow. Next week is set to be much warmer, with barely any chances for even a light frost at night, so it is possible that the sugaring season will be coming to an end soon. If there are too many days this time of year without frost, or the temperatures get too high, the sap flow stops and the season ends. If that does happen, it will have been a rather poor maple syrup year, starting more slowly due to cold and ending a week or two earlier than usual because of early spring warmth. <br /></p><p></p>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-4668338152735525502022-03-09T16:22:00.000-05:002022-03-09T16:22:49.401-05:00Remembering the Nut Museum<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi0s4T1OH2uEFtuWMEyME3m-AvhINMu0TxbGjuEmWlx_znEvGk0ekuoXGi-rqSDCgZcAL6geXM9-8gREnDPJebZteZL_Zs5iFimj0H-yPNOkv5WJp4pjkv6DhYJF3l_6l6N7PpU3ujmeFH4YombpHyr0c7wojtEAF-EexWRp6VbkwP_jpVk4R8VDyOEMg=s1600" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi0s4T1OH2uEFtuWMEyME3m-AvhINMu0TxbGjuEmWlx_znEvGk0ekuoXGi-rqSDCgZcAL6geXM9-8gREnDPJebZteZL_Zs5iFimj0H-yPNOkv5WJp4pjkv6DhYJF3l_6l6N7PpU3ujmeFH4YombpHyr0c7wojtEAF-EexWRp6VbkwP_jpVk4R8VDyOEMg=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Benton Museum of Art at UConn, March 2022.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p></p><p></p><p>For just about 30 years, beginning in April 1972, Connecticut was home to perhaps the world's only museum dedicated to nuts (as in, large, usually edible seeds, with a tough outer shell usually derived from fruit tissue). The Nut Museum was the life's work of eccentric artist Elizabeth Tashjian, who operated it by herself out of the first floor of her home in Old Lyme. Ms Tashjian was hospitalized, comatose, in 2002, and her estate was liquidated on the assumption that she would never recover. That normally would have been the end of a small private museum with a one-person curatorial staff and board, but Connecticut College professor Christopher Steiner managed to acquire and preserve the Nut Museum collection, and has put on occasional public displays of the nuts, artworks and related material in the 20 years since. </p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhj8iQiQcoEyeuIrqyeToYzu5JVPFU-U8cjz4XRfA3f8ghOX7Dnx_5PgpguOH1tQCxGY6rzldx2EhxdN_C1CMVJhJXq6qq1c3R7_DzSB3_eyQ75c_GLUBQXWyb3vN7tz1nXCE0b6Ait8SRLa2Mv7CNRkOsaE6VkjEiatvxKv_7seJX3jcW2GAsQ0UDuhA=s1312" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1312" data-original-width="984" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhj8iQiQcoEyeuIrqyeToYzu5JVPFU-U8cjz4XRfA3f8ghOX7Dnx_5PgpguOH1tQCxGY6rzldx2EhxdN_C1CMVJhJXq6qq1c3R7_DzSB3_eyQ75c_GLUBQXWyb3vN7tz1nXCE0b6Ait8SRLa2Mv7CNRkOsaE6VkjEiatvxKv_7seJX3jcW2GAsQ0UDuhA=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Painting by Elizabeth Tashjian, with the first line of the Nut Anthem. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p> The Benton Museum at the University of Connecticut has been hosting the 50th anniversary Nut Museum revival this winter, with an extensive display of Ms Tashjian's paintings, sculpture, ceramics and nut-themed music. Botanical specimens include several Coco de Mer nuts (<span><i>Lodoicea maldivica</i>, family Arecacae), the largest seeds of any plant, which were apparently a special favorite that appeared repeatedly in her artwork. The current display also includes a re-creation of the main gallery of the Nut Museum, as it appeared at its zenith in the 1970s. <br /></span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhhqKSbi4AtK9olIRCcqEsCqJnMT4iZBGRj6u_kWfHWsXHvnDTC1J3ITvrOGEuiT5cTL29Tf_V1V1u6fhHnLogAb_r1w0BJCyb3kDJvf1rO6QsHv5-RA28BIKHcUokmJ0MZNpF4jj_G-iw5hw7tRnV6Y-9PtG_YkSgkb84d0vLr_otA0LhbXPFrd0Vrww=s1600" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhhqKSbi4AtK9olIRCcqEsCqJnMT4iZBGRj6u_kWfHWsXHvnDTC1J3ITvrOGEuiT5cTL29Tf_V1V1u6fhHnLogAb_r1w0BJCyb3kDJvf1rO6QsHv5-RA28BIKHcUokmJ0MZNpF4jj_G-iw5hw7tRnV6Y-9PtG_YkSgkb84d0vLr_otA0LhbXPFrd0Vrww=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>2022 reconstruction of the Nut Museum at UConn.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />The Benton Nut Museum exhibit, along with associated talks and films, give a sense of the strangeness, gentle spookiness and humor of the original museum and its proprietor. One strong theme of the display is the experience of a certain generation and class of American women who were emphatically not brought up to be independent, but who nonetheless made a place for themselves in the world on their own. Another theme is the failure of society to compassionately deal with elderly people with no family and little means of support. The story of the Nut Museum ends on a hopeful note: Elizabeth Tashjian made an unexpected recovery from her medical crisis, and lived another five years at an eldercare facility where she seemed reasonably happy. Although she never returned to her house, she was grateful that the contents of the Nut Museum had been saved, and she was able to preside over several of the early post-Museum exhibits of the collection. <br /></p><p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgVcId6qHPR1IJeDB2ciauxYoecTwyT0nXr13QW5yQELdVaUjTFGO-bOqZH8yjrJ6p0JDHoYYSxAcgbzX--QjE20xWPRg8K1cdx065OzVT-FU5R-pL8AOibS2yf_ZCEHfFIzVLRbZAM2nKK0Qz8k0IKTvbpEiDcZbit7W9GjQBXxHijXxHYAHlbRMhX1g=s1415" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1061" data-original-width="1415" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgVcId6qHPR1IJeDB2ciauxYoecTwyT0nXr13QW5yQELdVaUjTFGO-bOqZH8yjrJ6p0JDHoYYSxAcgbzX--QjE20xWPRg8K1cdx065OzVT-FU5R-pL8AOibS2yf_ZCEHfFIzVLRbZAM2nKK0Qz8k0IKTvbpEiDcZbit7W9GjQBXxHijXxHYAHlbRMhX1g=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Elizabeth Tashjian's nut-themed masks.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table> </p><p>Prof. Steiner is currently researching and writing a book about Elizabeth Tashjian and the Nut Museum. Publication sounds like it may be a couple of years off. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjd3xkR-z5GDumD2q89iVEO4Sr9P6i6h_BNVXsxjlr3qN6Ycr5IiUre2kAaP2MxNRRkE4_0yIzNYcN86FPXetVtkEs9-9529Rl50UvzAbyOR00lzN9IoBqw5cEFYvQBdtmU6MhLYS2Jh1aIMJ3mjZJTySEHn5t7B2WsXM8_L1lzH5gpvqHmGdpqbvXXCw=s1514" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1136" data-original-width="1514" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjd3xkR-z5GDumD2q89iVEO4Sr9P6i6h_BNVXsxjlr3qN6Ycr5IiUre2kAaP2MxNRRkE4_0yIzNYcN86FPXetVtkEs9-9529Rl50UvzAbyOR00lzN9IoBqw5cEFYvQBdtmU6MhLYS2Jh1aIMJ3mjZJTySEHn5t7B2WsXM8_L1lzH5gpvqHmGdpqbvXXCw=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Anthropomorphic Horse Chestnut (</i>Aesculus hippocastanum<i>, family Sapindaceae) and Walnut (</i>Juglans<i> </i>regia<i>, Juglandaceae) paintings by Elizabeth Tashjian.</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </p>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-36862069636985790762021-09-24T15:15:00.000-04:002021-09-24T15:15:11.867-04:00Growing Hartford Fern from Spores<p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZFkyFvJzhHHDO2SSPzaMSn53QcrOyfeq2WSiA4pnoY9YwXboeaNI-q17xygEdWlZcQowbXwQOc_XgpAJVwBoHP9neodmlpnP4WtXP2xC03dquAvzq19eGTDIoTuVbzhKiJ3v43N0fVw3T/s2048/hartford.fern.sporeling.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZFkyFvJzhHHDO2SSPzaMSn53QcrOyfeq2WSiA4pnoY9YwXboeaNI-q17xygEdWlZcQowbXwQOc_XgpAJVwBoHP9neodmlpnP4WtXP2xC03dquAvzq19eGTDIoTuVbzhKiJ3v43N0fVw3T/s320/hartford.fern.sporeling.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lygodium palmatum<i> sporeling at five months old. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>In a <a href="https://burgersonion.blogspot.com/2021/08/hartford-fern.html">previous post</a> I talked about the biology and ecology of the Hartford Fern, <i>Lygodium palmatum</i>, America's lone native species of climbing fern. In this post I will discuss the process of growing this rare and botanically interesting plant from spores, which turns out to be relatively quick and unproblematic, as fern propagation goes. </p><p><b>Spores</b>: Plant material of <i>Lygodium palmatum</i> is occasionally available from mail order nurseries, but the only regular source of spores that I am aware of is the American Fern Society's <a href="https://www.amerfernsoc.org/spore-exchange-background">spore exchange</a>, currently meticulously curated by Brian Aikins in Washington state. Spores could also be <a href="https://www.amerfernsoc.org/how-to-collect-spores">collected</a> from mature plants in late autumn, if one happens to already have access to cultivated plants. <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju8LSb0n244ByunpmsRERRZZW9NeR7aNVO2hw5TfHJXx1LKEplnn_ytvx_G2GlQ3te8cMyCGFc8y19TofzOZkuq_UZobApF3WqTG7LsqbP9ZD_8vqy15EVw_qgFpmVVTmK5X92pWIiUOgN/s1537/lygodium.palmatum.gametophyte.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1153" data-original-width="1537" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju8LSb0n244ByunpmsRERRZZW9NeR7aNVO2hw5TfHJXx1LKEplnn_ytvx_G2GlQ3te8cMyCGFc8y19TofzOZkuq_UZobApF3WqTG7LsqbP9ZD_8vqy15EVw_qgFpmVVTmK5X92pWIiUOgN/s320/lygodium.palmatum.gametophyte.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lygodium palmatum<i>, gametophyte (dark green) with one-leaved sporophyte emerging (light green).</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><b>Soil</b>: Hartford Fern grows in acidic soil, so I have used a light, acidic mixture of sphagnum peat moss and perlite for starting spores. I pasteurize small batches of soil in a microwave (on high for about five minutes), which helps to prevent or at least delay contamination of spore pots by algae and moss. </p><p><b>Sowing Spore</b>: <i>Lygodium </i>spores are as fine as dust and must be sown on the surface of pots of soil, where they will be exposed to light. Temperate zone ferns like <i>L. palmatum</i> are best started in spring; no special pre-treatment, such as <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stratification_(seeds)">cold stratification</a>, is needed. Ideally, spores should be sown thinly, so that the sporelings will have a little space between them, but this is difficult to accomplish. The soil is kept moist to wet by watering from below or with gentle misting, and the whole pot should be kept in a humid, closed environment in a plastic bag or terrarium. Bright but indirect light is best (such as in an east-facing window, or at the periphery of a grow light setup). </p><p><b>Germination and Sporeling Care</b>: <i>Lygodium </i>spores germinate within a month or so, giving rise to crinkly, dark-green gametophytes. Gametophytes are the haploid (only one set of chromosomes), gamete-producing phase of the plant <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alternation_of_generations">alternation of generations</a>. The spore sowing mix has very little nutrient content on its own, so
misting several times a month with half-strength water-soluble
houseplant fertilizer is needed from germination on. </p><p>The gametophytes take several months to mature, at which point they produce sperm and eggs, fertilization takes place, and tiny, light-green leaves start to emerge from the undersides of the gametophytes. These light-green leaves are the young sporophytes, the diploid, spore-producing phase of the life cycle. In ferns, the sporophyte is the large, long-lived phase of the life cycle; what we typically think of as a fern plant. </p><p>The sporelings can be transplanted out to individual pots when the sporophytes have one or two fully expanded leaves and are about a centimeter or two across; this will probably be in summer, about four months after sowing. Transplants should be gradually adjusted to brighter sun and lower humidity, in preparation for overwintering the young plants in a cold greenhouse or sheltered position outdoors. <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzY2qp6GVB80HAXQTeLN2Gx-K7NjX0wz5l6cJbokCyg2kRLSVS-k9mrQ9F-GvzyAhgFTUsKjNwOQYldo28nDwISrYCLsrb2UaQb7lT9kuRUTJnk5y4-_ScoUBwc0KvgNC4HPNnyZbV4jQ4/s1449/lygodium.palmatum.6month.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1087" data-original-width="1449" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzY2qp6GVB80HAXQTeLN2Gx-K7NjX0wz5l6cJbokCyg2kRLSVS-k9mrQ9F-GvzyAhgFTUsKjNwOQYldo28nDwISrYCLsrb2UaQb7lT9kuRUTJnk5y4-_ScoUBwc0KvgNC4HPNnyZbV4jQ4/s320/lygodium.palmatum.6month.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lygodium palmatum<i>, 6 month sporeling starting to put out dissected leaves. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-91337270451337084752021-08-27T18:32:00.003-04:002021-09-24T15:17:54.184-04:00Hartford Fern<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1hfyukL3QgbAMKSTY51T5z5MGFhO8eYXbK_OQ8FrwOFiGmmVcRZzqb9MyYfzl_etb7q1gKJjfwBnd3kfHXhReRxrBiV6g7J_FqDaZtBfiO3Nrn_mcgpkND97cbGfmhqlcXLLwedei89sm/s1500/lygodium.osmundastrum.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1hfyukL3QgbAMKSTY51T5z5MGFhO8eYXbK_OQ8FrwOFiGmmVcRZzqb9MyYfzl_etb7q1gKJjfwBnd3kfHXhReRxrBiV6g7J_FqDaZtBfiO3Nrn_mcgpkND97cbGfmhqlcXLLwedei89sm/s320/lygodium.osmundastrum.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lygodium palmatum <i>climbing on </i>Osmundastrum<i> frond. Windham County, Connecticut, August 13 2021. <br /></i></td></tr></tbody></table><br />One of the most unusual native ferns in my area is <i>Lygodium palmatum</i>, the Hartford Fern or American Climbing Fern. The climbing ferns are about 40 species of <i>Lygodium</i>, the lone genus in the family Lygodiaceae, distantly related to the curly-grass ferns (family Schizaeaceae). The climbing ferns are mostly tropical, with a few representatives in north temperate regions, including <i>Lygodium palmatum</i>, the sole species of climbing fern native to the US. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcc5mkdLxNGJKHzBXsUaBKqvJC4Nx9-b7Bk-SOfAHYClMBE2xo5n6J20u2A-DTo3V6t4Vb6-GwYcbxGDixkjiLGXD_KiCeO-eEvfzhRrZhXO46wxVS0MldGONT9kPPdwzAQvIn3PsEGQBN/s1500/lygodium.palmatum.climbing.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1125" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcc5mkdLxNGJKHzBXsUaBKqvJC4Nx9-b7Bk-SOfAHYClMBE2xo5n6J20u2A-DTo3V6t4Vb6-GwYcbxGDixkjiLGXD_KiCeO-eEvfzhRrZhXO46wxVS0MldGONT9kPPdwzAQvIn3PsEGQBN/s320/lygodium.palmatum.climbing.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lygodium palmatum<i> with fertile and sterile leaflets, climbing on Winterberry (</i>Ilex verticillata<i>).</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>Climbing ferns are indeed vines--uniquely, I believe, among ferns--which twine around other plants in order to reach sunlight and position their spore-producing structures higher for more efficient spore dispersal. Perhaps even more peculiar than the vining habit of <i>Lygodium</i>, is the fact that the vines are not stems, but very long, indeterminately growing leaves (the only stem tissue in climbing ferns is the underground rhizome from which the twining leaves arise). The fronds grow from a meristem (growth point) at their tip, periodically producing new leaflets (pinnae). Some large tropical species of <i>Lygodium</i> have additional meristems at the base of each leaflet, which can grow out as new vining fronds, especially if the main growing point of the frond is severed. This growth form is a remarkable parallel to the organization of the entire shoot system--with shoot apical meristems, stems, leaves and axillary buds--of just about every other group of plants. <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT53JHt2URSI5ZT7CBxRmx-dsvlc325ubpYkH-Ig_6vB1reM_mHBnPHddV3TM_ERe08Y6neisF7gSQ6L8WrWecNMeDbSVq9ocVulTZFg_jW_z801UT_Ga6OpKGJJdVC2Ns3pCr9CPOy88o/s1500/lygodium.palmatum.sori.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT53JHt2URSI5ZT7CBxRmx-dsvlc325ubpYkH-Ig_6vB1reM_mHBnPHddV3TM_ERe08Y6neisF7gSQ6L8WrWecNMeDbSVq9ocVulTZFg_jW_z801UT_Ga6OpKGJJdVC2Ns3pCr9CPOy88o/s320/lygodium.palmatum.sori.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lygodium palmatum<i>, fertile leaflet underside with immature sori, in August. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p> Mature Hartford Ferns bear two different types of leaflets. On the lower parts of the frond there are broad, palmate (hand-shaped) sterile pinnae, which are strictly there for photosynthesis, not reproduction. The more distal parts of the frond may bear fertile pinnae, which are more branched and end in many narrow pinnules. Fertile leaflets have sori on their undersides, which are clusters of minute sporangia, the capsules that shed spores in autumn. <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUXxWlpn0Jo9bOUCLDVp0Ix4rf1kB6d_XG2vGNC4D0WHKXMKta0DWqfmTMR0S7iij7Jt6I4xVJdCnU72SVXs7pvoP9tw1GQFjokDpp_lSlGM5xjhm7D3SWd51L8P9g8vi6xT28jEgMtVOo/s1500/lygodium.hartford.fern.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUXxWlpn0Jo9bOUCLDVp0Ix4rf1kB6d_XG2vGNC4D0WHKXMKta0DWqfmTMR0S7iij7Jt6I4xVJdCnU72SVXs7pvoP9tw1GQFjokDpp_lSlGM5xjhm7D3SWd51L8P9g8vi6xT28jEgMtVOo/s320/lygodium.hartford.fern.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lygodium palmatum <i>patch, with Marsh Fern (</i><span data-translation="">Thelypteris palustris</span><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc"><i>).</i></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p>Hartford Fern is associated with wetlands with acidic soil; I have seen it in Red Maple swamp and river floodplains, generally in spots with dappled sun under a somewhat patchy tree canopy ("high shade" as wildflower gardeners say). <i>Lygodium </i>grows on hummocks, banks and other slightly elevated spots in wetlands, seemingly avoiding low places that would have standing water in spring. Associated plants include Cinnamon Fern (<i>Osmundastrum cinnamomeum</i>), Royal Fern (<i>Osmunda regalis</i>), Catbrier (<i>Smilax rotundifolia</i>) and the usual shrubs of acidic swampland such as Sweet Pepperbush (<i>Clethra alnifolia</i>) and Highbush Blueberry (<i>Vaccinium corymbosum</i>). </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZFz_LzWl1c2vasjf5cwQ2qw7fGWROG8ONrUcFX9Kp2sEAbLi9RzKAWqPjpwsDkTUiTX8jLKd6HjstljplCjrVYruJkd5n4nn4zN_Nqze423FvKvMngLd17dscaWJMtHn_SzA1ifdKNdwz/s1500/lygodium.palmatum.habitat.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZFz_LzWl1c2vasjf5cwQ2qw7fGWROG8ONrUcFX9Kp2sEAbLi9RzKAWqPjpwsDkTUiTX8jLKd6HjstljplCjrVYruJkd5n4nn4zN_Nqze423FvKvMngLd17dscaWJMtHn_SzA1ifdKNdwz/s320/lygodium.palmatum.habitat.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lygodium palmatum <i>habitat, Windham County, Ct. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p> Red maple swamp with Cinnamon Ferns is not exactly an uncommon habitat in the Northeast; there are probably hundreds of acres of wetland that looks appropriate for <i>Lygodium</i>, in my town alone. But as far as I know, there are no <i>Lygodium </i>populations at all in my immediate area. Hartford Fern is geographically widespread, too, being native to most of the states east of the Mississippi. It's a bit of puzzle, then, just how rare our native climbing fern is; there are apparently <a href="https://guides.nynhp.org/climbing-fern/">fewer than five</a> patches of it in all of New York state, for instance. </p><p>Part of the reason for Hartford Fern's rarity is thought to be the collection of the fern's evergreen fronds for Christmas decorations in the nineteenth century, which led to the state of Connecticut passing legal protections for the species in 1869, the first endangered plant legislation in the United States. Land clearance for agriculture and the flooding of wetlands by widespread construction of dams for mills probably also harmed <i>Lygodium </i>populations in New England. It's possible that there is some non-obvious reason, as well, why most semi-open wet woodlands are not actually suitable for <i>Lygodium</i>, despite looking similar to the vanishingly rare spots where Hartford Fern does grow. In any event, catching sight of our native climbing fern is a special and unfortunately quite uncommon occurrence. </p><p>--</p><p>A <a href="https://burgersonion.blogspot.com/2021/09/growing-hartford-fern-from-spores.html">followup post</a> covers propagating Hartford Fern from spores in cultivation. <br /></p><p> </p><p></p>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-17615062347102725152021-08-14T14:13:00.000-04:002021-08-14T14:13:59.322-04:00Midsummer Orchids<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguu1Tmj82STquGC1nW9PRRYuzbsh_3qrGXJqr9tudHOQ111SWlJXm9NXPG6Qp7EYbh5uqIQFRCFUAObtctEuDOJtTogmVNUQpBLVjMZ5uRVcER9xMhAtfsVzcnsSU57tHzcuqr1WGh8wm5/s320/purplefringedbogorchid.up.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Platanthera psycodes<i>, Lesser Purple Fringed Bog Orchid. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /> The hazy, hot and humid period in late July in early August is generally a slow time for wildflowers in New England--the spring ephemerals are long past and the late-summer asters and goldenrods haven't started--but there are a number of native orchids that bloom during the height of summer. <br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcq_vuX4h-WmOkYz-hxmDiDMlD4w-PFRLrYxmarhrOvn8iTGWTCgjFTFugEWiDgl2REX80EYBQEiqA2zpdVomBpFTC6O-5So1dLWzB6jGsTyA1C-2UxmbCk_xiQXsU-FfN71kwT7Wkvsuh/s2048/goodyera.tesselata.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcq_vuX4h-WmOkYz-hxmDiDMlD4w-PFRLrYxmarhrOvn8iTGWTCgjFTFugEWiDgl2REX80EYBQEiqA2zpdVomBpFTC6O-5So1dLWzB6jGsTyA1C-2UxmbCk_xiQXsU-FfN71kwT7Wkvsuh/s320/goodyera.tesselata.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goodyera tesselata, <i>Checkered Rattlesnake-Plantain, in late July in Ashford, Ct. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> <i>Goodyera</i>, the rattlesnake-plantains, is a large, almost cosmopolitan genus of terrestrial orchids, with two species extant in Connecticut (and one more probably extirpated). <i>Goodyera tesselata </i>is the less common of the two, a small plant with pale, checkered leaves. It favors well-drained, piney woods, and is more frequently encountered to the north of my area. Checkered Rattlesnake-Plantain is <a href="https://gobotany.nativeplanttrust.org/species/goodyera/tesselata/">thought to be derived</a> from an ancient hybridization event between two other <i>Goodyera </i>species. <br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-BSVxftc3aQ6_Kx7n7n_VvEIFhFNBqI5HfJKHiugnOE_jLinnWli8oppY0KNofFnHs-l3Z7uCMJZ1dm5SMhyrEtuHbOfOH4lY-G_RidlOCxLhhzu1nQmfg8sy1QgulIzWGF_EQC8_AdrO/s2048/goodyera.pubescens.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-BSVxftc3aQ6_Kx7n7n_VvEIFhFNBqI5HfJKHiugnOE_jLinnWli8oppY0KNofFnHs-l3Z7uCMJZ1dm5SMhyrEtuHbOfOH4lY-G_RidlOCxLhhzu1nQmfg8sy1QgulIzWGF_EQC8_AdrO/s320/goodyera.pubescens.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goodyera pubescens, <i>Downy Rattlesnake-Plantain, in late July in Mansfield, Ct.</i> <br /></td></tr></tbody></table> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Goodyera pubescens</i>, or Downy Rattlesnake-Plantain, is by far the more common species in its genus in southern New England, and is one of the most frequently encountered wild orchids overall. An observant hiker can spot the green-and-silver variegated rosettes and spikes of white flowers of this charming plant, on virtually any walk through the woods in eastern Connecticut. The rosettes of leaves grow from branching underground rhizomes, and can form large colonies.<br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZWkG2HfaWDf9IhyHBeHsgrCvj_pL9QOc3OIVCd43j7X0ONFEODhLL1atGlkjhTBG2iRneTTU8UjpBc3aNP5mNMjhhCI31TUWKszsgtoXGLNGgjYIrK55LuBfnhg-6TBdVIJjC9J3aQZ60/s2048/platanthera.clavellata.greenwoodorchid.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZWkG2HfaWDf9IhyHBeHsgrCvj_pL9QOc3OIVCd43j7X0ONFEODhLL1atGlkjhTBG2iRneTTU8UjpBc3aNP5mNMjhhCI31TUWKszsgtoXGLNGgjYIrK55LuBfnhg-6TBdVIJjC9J3aQZ60/s320/platanthera.clavellata.greenwoodorchid.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Platanthera clavellata<i>, Small Green Wood Orchid, in late July in Mansfield, Ct. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Platanthera </i>is the most diverse genus of orchids in New England, with about <a href="https://gobotany.nativeplanttrust.org/genus/platanthera/">16 species</a>, though many of these are very rare, localized, or "historical" (locally extinct). Many species have had a hard time with development, invasive species (including earthworms and slugs), forest succession, deer overpopulation, a warming climate, and probably in some cases direct picking and digging by gardeners. One species that seems to be doing pretty well in Connecticut is <i>P. clavellata</i>, which is not <i>that </i>uncommon in acidic, swampy woods and on stream banks. It is difficult to spot out-of-flower, with a few nondescript oval leaves, and even in flower is not what you would call showy, so it is quite possible that it is even more frequent than my impressions would indicate.<br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic4EnYkxc4WIgZR6unHTNahltI8uWgF7x9RoITqDPj4eqWTABSPYfL8jc0_x9kLKVeZgdwKNQ9B9iSPOKdGhUO6dEJoaF8xkTb8Wmd24P-icfHk9Aj8rxYRJvPERIugJXvZoj1WAekZVsC/s2048/platanthera.psychodes.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic4EnYkxc4WIgZR6unHTNahltI8uWgF7x9RoITqDPj4eqWTABSPYfL8jc0_x9kLKVeZgdwKNQ9B9iSPOKdGhUO6dEJoaF8xkTb8Wmd24P-icfHk9Aj8rxYRJvPERIugJXvZoj1WAekZVsC/s320/platanthera.psychodes.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Platanthera psycodes<i>, Lesser Purple Fringed Bog Orchid, in late July in Tolland County, Ct.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Platanthera psycodes</i>, on the other hand, is rather uncommon in my area, but beautiful and totally obvious when in flower. Flowering plants are waist-high. with lovely violet-pink petals. The flowers are not strongly scented, have long nectar spurs behind the petals, and are pollinated by butterflies. The plants pictured here were scattered along a cold, spring-fed stream, in mucky, acidic soil. <br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /><br /></div>
Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-67142636065228970782021-07-23T20:48:00.001-04:002021-08-09T16:48:21.791-04:00Soils for Succulents<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF0MO6WFQG5rQ0qOfdRFG5ButlDlqeXpbAwdyNi0w_RFnSRvgQ2zqixAhz_xejibCjGwZBIlCs_wLzUwXbm1DUDvay8W-D92m1wMy3NDJPkrgyqc9Et1dRqwmeJ2Sfkn2uuMHH7aNSFelC/s1700/soil.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1275" data-original-width="1700" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF0MO6WFQG5rQ0qOfdRFG5ButlDlqeXpbAwdyNi0w_RFnSRvgQ2zqixAhz_xejibCjGwZBIlCs_wLzUwXbm1DUDvay8W-D92m1wMy3NDJPkrgyqc9Et1dRqwmeJ2Sfkn2uuMHH7aNSFelC/s320/soil.jpeg" width="320" /></a><br /></div><h3 style="text-align: left;"> <b>Basic Cactus and Succulent Mix</b></h3><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>1 part potting soil for houseplants</b></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>2 parts sharp sand </b></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>1 part vermiculite</b></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>1 part perlite</b><br /></p><p></p><p>This is a good basic soil for most potted cactus and succulent plants, consisting of ingredients that are easily available from nurseries or hardware stores, at least in my part of the world. The commercial potting soil portion holds some water and nutrients, while the sand drains well and provides inert bulk. Perlite and vermiculite are lightweight expanded minerals that help aeration and drainage, with vermiculite also being able to hold some water and nutrients. </p><p>The sand component is the potentially most variable part of any of these mixes; I've seen a surprising range of stuff sold as bagged sand at the hardware store, even under the same brand name at different times. Ideally I look for sand that is mostly quartz, with rough, irregular grains; in New England this is mostly river sand mined from old glacial deposits. Beach sand is usually not suitable, since it tends to consist of smooth, rounded grains that pack together. Sand that consists solely of very fine grains (granulated sugar sized) is also not good. I've occasionally run into "sand" that was actually some kind of industrial ground-up rock, with a mixture of larger chunks and a lot of powdery material; this has proven disastrous for succulent soil usage. <br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBfExTchl-p5yzi_OBO7acEnwyVjFRZ38BItT6Sd79njUT8XSCtfgKFiGcRXsM_eCAM73I_uq9bhuB7XtHJes2br-BDj8tH2UNNBojmxwdPqVC3EegOPoTaDAlLuxgH2VT4SIYJ3VYrAmB/s1500/soil.ingredients.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBfExTchl-p5yzi_OBO7acEnwyVjFRZ38BItT6Sd79njUT8XSCtfgKFiGcRXsM_eCAM73I_uq9bhuB7XtHJes2br-BDj8tH2UNNBojmxwdPqVC3EegOPoTaDAlLuxgH2VT4SIYJ3VYrAmB/s320/soil.ingredients.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><h3 style="text-align: left;"> UConn Cactus and Succulent Mix</h3><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>3 gallons soilless potting medium </b></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>3 gallons sharp sand</b></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>1 gallon perlite</b></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>1 gallon vermiculite</b></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>2 gallons calcined clay pellets</b></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>1 gallon pumice (or sponge rock or expanded shale)</b></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>1 gallon pea-sized gravel</b></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>3 tablespoons slow-release fertilizer</b></p><p>This is the cactus soil used in the biodiversity greenhouses at the University of Connecticut, made up in big batches in an electric soil mixer. The soilless medium is currently Jolly Gardener C/B, a peat and composted bark mix; in the past we have used peat/perlite Cornell-type mixes from the ProMix and Fafard lines. Coir-based mediums also give acceptable results with this recipe. </p><p>The UConn C&S mix includes some coarse inorganic components that are a little more exotic than vermiculite and perlite. Calcined clay comes from several manufacturers; we have used Turface MVP and Primera One Field Conditioner. It's similar to kitty litter, but fired at a higher temperature so that it does not break back down into clay when wet. </p><p>Pumice has become somewhat difficult to find in the eastern US in recent years; we have a stockpile that was ordered in bulk from Hess Pumice Products. Pumice substitutes that might be easier to find in the Northeast include sponge rock (an expanded volcanic mineral similar to perlite) and expanded shale, which is manufactured in New York and available under the Norlite, Solite and Espoma Soil Perfector brands. Expanded shales and calcined clay can contain harmful quantities of salt, so be sure to get a material that is intended for horticultural use. <br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ6kR3PPsPGArO3_BGTZ8SD9fa-4MuWJWLnsFjR3oSg-VpoVfr-SQ8KgrujaiHvuPoeM9bbXrnIW79V49pZ95T7pXkIMQRrhfjTYPCdkFDH2y90NJJ83evToEnHHZoSvB0Mfyx88dZSMeD/s2048/mesemb.mix.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1484" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ6kR3PPsPGArO3_BGTZ8SD9fa-4MuWJWLnsFjR3oSg-VpoVfr-SQ8KgrujaiHvuPoeM9bbXrnIW79V49pZ95T7pXkIMQRrhfjTYPCdkFDH2y90NJJ83evToEnHHZoSvB0Mfyx88dZSMeD/s320/mesemb.mix.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><h3 style="text-align: left;">Mineral Soil Mix</h3><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>1 part sandy-loam soil</b></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>2 parts sharp sand</b></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>2 parts perlite</b></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>2 parts vermiculite</b></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>1 part pumice, calcined clay or expanded shale</b></p><p>This is a soil-based mix containing essentially no organic material, for use with more delicate succulents, such as <i>Conophytum</i>. I picked up the basic idea for it while working at Mesa Garden, where, back in the day, just about everything was potted in "Mabel Mix," which was equal parts sand, pumice, and native desert soil, the soil coming from the leftovers from road grading. "Loam" is used here in the soil science sense: a soil composed of silt (mineral particles smaller than sand grains) with some sand and a little clay, <i>not </i>in the gardening sense of "any fertile soil." New Mexico desert loam is hard to come by in Connecticut, but sandy loam subsoil, from a few feet down, with very little organic content, is an acceptable substitute. <br /></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixAmzg2O9M57Lg3c08AeiiPMq4J25wX1yz1_ZbbLa-C5BjeEF0bLqO9qiQlG7xkqPuP2G75HnVCD5_I5mc7uxJNdly9XW9wLiyqTr3n75UHI-JP9dklu72JwBBOWgQFoy21nyIOW-wXcv8/s1500/sandyloam.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1138" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixAmzg2O9M57Lg3c08AeiiPMq4J25wX1yz1_ZbbLa-C5BjeEF0bLqO9qiQlG7xkqPuP2G75HnVCD5_I5mc7uxJNdly9XW9wLiyqTr3n75UHI-JP9dklu72JwBBOWgQFoy21nyIOW-wXcv8/s320/sandyloam.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Digging a hole in New England will probably yield lots of rocks, and maybe some loamy mineral subsoil that would make a good base for cactus mix. </i></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i> </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table> </p><p>The general idea with all of these recipes is to produce a potting medium that drains well, isn't too heavy, isn't too rich, but that still holds some water and nutrients. The basic theme is: a smaller amount of organic soil or loam, cut with generous quantities of sand and coarser mineral components. There is much leeway for changing the ratios and substituting or omitting ingredients. The flip side of this flexibility is that there are no miracle ingredients that will effortlessly take your succulent plant cultivation to the next level; there is no substitute for patience and close attention to proper light, temperatures, ventilation, watering and fertilizing. <br /></p><p></p><p></p>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-55885087305610486102021-07-04T19:31:00.000-04:002021-07-04T19:31:57.906-04:00Happy 4th of July!<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqlRJNWXj-eg5VhbPpTkhcOWcNYMsPrIwlbKcCvlC_Ni9nvVoOrS9jV3NyumAGSUVHF6gZb9ICpTBXB-7aviVDbsvBqeVRArZOsXo5QlCwg0lX8f99NSS3GI1Y3XaRJQ44ayAAGr3B3HLs/s1626/eagle.flapping.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1626" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqlRJNWXj-eg5VhbPpTkhcOWcNYMsPrIwlbKcCvlC_Ni9nvVoOrS9jV3NyumAGSUVHF6gZb9ICpTBXB-7aviVDbsvBqeVRArZOsXo5QlCwg0lX8f99NSS3GI1Y3XaRJQ44ayAAGr3B3HLs/s320/eagle.flapping.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Bald Eagle chicks in northeastern Connecticut.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>This July 4th might not quite yet mark a total independence day from COVID, but the pandemic is definitely receding into the background. Willimantic's boom-box parade made a comeback, but was shorter and more subdued than usual, either because of the weather (coolish with occasional drizzle), or lingering coronavirus concerns. </p><p>One of the known area Bald Eagle nests is home to two young eagles this year, which seemed to be just about ready to fledge when I saw them last weekend. They were hopping around in the branches above the nest, and flapping their wings, but not flying. </p><p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9pO6mYjlkJCutFqyeRt0oUeBrlMGuW_C7OskxF4LB1q5HfL4YSAjEtfd81iUgkT3elYovbai40g-UsKtfAsbSKWjOJiNHAiF4cvR4B-pxXbwHwXIT4z0UGPlii6ZKMsOs0swcfPAPZ2x9/s1600/mt.laurel.bigelow.hollow.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1216" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9pO6mYjlkJCutFqyeRt0oUeBrlMGuW_C7OskxF4LB1q5HfL4YSAjEtfd81iUgkT3elYovbai40g-UsKtfAsbSKWjOJiNHAiF4cvR4B-pxXbwHwXIT4z0UGPlii6ZKMsOs0swcfPAPZ2x9/s320/mt.laurel.bigelow.hollow.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Mountain Laurel </i>(Kalmia latifolia)<i> in Bigelow Hollow State Park, Union, Ct. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> This year was a banner year for the Connecticut state flower, Mountain Laurel, with some of the most profuse flowering that I have seen. The peak was probably in mid-June, but the laurels looked fantastic for several weeks, and there are still a few flowers hanging on in cooler spots. Last year there were barely any flowers at all, but for 2021, the laurel thickets have really put on a show. </p>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-16137751149446870082020-09-02T10:56:00.001-04:002020-09-04T08:43:08.478-04:00Podostemum ceratophyllum<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcsqFnQYcjA_VX5OkCgnZIbQ25pQXlmcaapcxhwu4yAQnC8I2ko0Sbjs6V2kiX4Q7wdHjH9LrMLB0FdtG3Zfs9DJNTjxV_wmKY2d_J7B7B83xC6vMGLCnOaiReVNiXOYr8sB-IkKslLTgM/s1300/podostemum.locality.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Podostemum locality on the Mount Hope River in Mansfield, Ct." border="0" data-original-height="975" data-original-width="1300" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcsqFnQYcjA_VX5OkCgnZIbQ25pQXlmcaapcxhwu4yAQnC8I2ko0Sbjs6V2kiX4Q7wdHjH9LrMLB0FdtG3Zfs9DJNTjxV_wmKY2d_J7B7B83xC6vMGLCnOaiReVNiXOYr8sB-IkKslLTgM/w512-h384/podostemum.locality.jpg" title="Podostemum locality on the Mount Hope River in Mansfield, Ct." width="512" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Podostemum <i>locality on the Mount Hope River in Mansfield, Ct.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><i>Podostemum ceratophyllum</i>, or Hornleaf Riverweed, is the only really good example in Connecticut of a flowering plant that is a rheophyte. Rheophytes are aquatic plants that exclusively live attached to rocks in rapids or waterfalls, in clean, violently fast-moving water. This almost absurdly specialized ecological niche is occupied by species in various unrelated plant families, included a couple of tropical species of <i>Utricularia</i>, the carnivorous bladderworts, but the most diverse family that is exclusively rheophytic is the Podostemaceae. <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir1WPs4gBMKnJqDoFKL92rKr9XNiYEctQplVs8uE_kyvhdbYnXAgKT6GtMPy5FDXyCuBqbZlqrAEdQMln0IXXM96zC91YY0I9Cn5UJJaU6clIzC_RVGv6ymBBgT00LXQJyf5T2U6LU5NBL/s1500/podostemum.certophyllum.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir1WPs4gBMKnJqDoFKL92rKr9XNiYEctQplVs8uE_kyvhdbYnXAgKT6GtMPy5FDXyCuBqbZlqrAEdQMln0IXXM96zC91YY0I9Cn5UJJaU6clIzC_RVGv6ymBBgT00LXQJyf5T2U6LU5NBL/w512-h384/podostemum.certophyllum.jpeg" width="512" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Podostemum ceratophyllum <i>in the Mount Hope River.</i></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i> </i></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i> </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><p></p><p>The Podostemaceae are peculiar things, with a morphology that is difficult to interpret, involving a certain degree of ambiguity between the three classical types of plant organ: roots, stems and leaves. A green, photosynthetic, creeping holdfast-type organ grips the rocks on which the plants grow, and in <i>Podostemum</i> and most other genera this is root tissue (some of the research establishing the homology of <i>Podostemum </i>holdfasts was conducted by UConn's own Tom Philbrick). The roots give rise internally to root born shoots, which bear what are probably leaves (but may be in some cases leaf-like stems) as well as the flowers. The structural oddity of riverweeds, presumably resulting from adaptations to their extreme environment, has also historically made the relationships of the family difficult to determine. Modern molecular evolutionary work seems to have finally placed the Podostemaceae firmly within the order Malpighiales, closely related to the Hypericaceae (Saint John's Wort family).<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkls7G_s3JW3zQfkmbJKW2JMb3klcaJS-D_mwGVrR-Kiora2wWFeOl44jSAWpb-8_z-0_rgyd58F4T6kwe3rgwYLNkT0nP8NCCw5wNkyBpEkjjrYTXQ3bnt0Ya4c2DuJNx-PBiMsOsBcsg/s1200/podostemum.fruits.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1200" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkls7G_s3JW3zQfkmbJKW2JMb3klcaJS-D_mwGVrR-Kiora2wWFeOl44jSAWpb-8_z-0_rgyd58F4T6kwe3rgwYLNkT0nP8NCCw5wNkyBpEkjjrYTXQ3bnt0Ya4c2DuJNx-PBiMsOsBcsg/w512-h384/podostemum.fruits.jpeg" width="512" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Podostemum ceratophyllum <i>fruits.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>The riverweeds flower and fruit during periods of low water, when the plants are exposed to air. In New England, flowering season is late summer, when there is often something of a drought and the rivers are at their lowest ebb. The flowers are small and non-showy, and probably self-pollinated or wind-pollinated. The fruits are little dry capsules that look quite a bit like moss sporangia (spore capsules). The seeds are sticky when wet, and able to glue themselves to rocks so that they stay in place when their habitat is flooded again. </p><p><i>Podostemum ceratophyllum</i> only grows in certain special sites, not only needing rock submerged in clean, cool, well-aerated, swiftly flowing water, but also being restricted to exposed, sunny stretches of river. It is apparently a species in decline as a result of development and agricultural runoff, vulnerable especially to sediment and nutrient pollution in its water. One of the local riverweed sites on the Natchaug River in Chaplin is still extant, but the plants don't seem to be as abundant or healthy as they were 30 years ago, when I was first shown the spot. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZN7z830MhPUI_191L9SbreR5x-BHa6v-cGMYFA2EdMzQiSSIcN-y6wl4YGQK7wgT3Z_Zmyo5w9IiQf2CHzUQU1cV0dDggqm1McRlyoJ9EnkK-NzuaBYG0wNmFdM6xl2zuvnbv6xgz9eNb/s1500/natchaug.river.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZN7z830MhPUI_191L9SbreR5x-BHa6v-cGMYFA2EdMzQiSSIcN-y6wl4YGQK7wgT3Z_Zmyo5w9IiQf2CHzUQU1cV0dDggqm1McRlyoJ9EnkK-NzuaBYG0wNmFdM6xl2zuvnbv6xgz9eNb/w512-h384/natchaug.river.jpeg" width="512" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Podostemum <i>locality on the Natchaug River, Chaplin, Ct. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>Various people have attempted to cultivate <i>Podostemum </i>and other riverweeds, as far as I know without any long term success. Plants on cobbles moved to aquariums with vigorous aeration and water circulation will languish for a few weeks, then decline and disappear. Seeds have been germinated in artificial conditions, but the seedlings don't seem to persist. It should be possible to grow <i>Podostemum </i>from seed to seed indoors, but it would perhaps require more attention to light, water movement, temperature and water chemistry than anyone has been willing to lavish on a river weed up to this point. </p><p> </p><p> </p>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-17992190935785888632020-07-25T10:17:00.000-04:002020-07-25T10:17:49.106-04:00Comet NEOWISE<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheJjD7jxgJ880cI8-V7bE7fNc1vy8rWUmS-QjLg-ApPwxDyjhHnyYVDkOXvkFzt2Mecn3ey6TdBMeaMGSMuGGmHEx02asYcEgYe4x2ZNYEDCDkIgvs5Z0AiVYBtyRz93896TQXIFOZ-sIU/s1600/COMET-NEOWISE.nasa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheJjD7jxgJ880cI8-V7bE7fNc1vy8rWUmS-QjLg-ApPwxDyjhHnyYVDkOXvkFzt2Mecn3ey6TdBMeaMGSMuGGmHEx02asYcEgYe4x2ZNYEDCDkIgvs5Z0AiVYBtyRz93896TQXIFOZ-sIU/s320/COMET-NEOWISE.nasa.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Comet NEOWISE, photo courtesy of NASA.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Comet NEOWISE has been pretty easily visible over the past 10 days in Connecticut, whenever the weather has cooperated. It's now appearing in the evenings, around 10:00 PM, in the northwest sky between the Big Dipper and the horizon. The comet was visible to the naked eye and beautiful through binoculars a few days ago, but was noticeably smaller and fainter last night, so it may be on the way out after a brief show. This has been the first really good comet viewable from the Northern Hemisphere in quite a long time; the last was Hale-Bopp in 1997. The photo above is the official NASA image, my own attempts at cell phone and point-n-shoot astrophotography were disappointing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvUjfJB-7rpZgIadtLuLtGmpjxZ9kLY6t_tenA_UjmtZwNANgO4SrCNqsulBSSwgtpLBNA9FILIsEgrCee2-Z5cAvy0AGfxPPw7uR8ZH3s4KZyJ6nuzYaZ-_78_nU5YLvD-QCFO_c4BqbQ/s1600/comet.neowise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="824" data-original-width="1100" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvUjfJB-7rpZgIadtLuLtGmpjxZ9kLY6t_tenA_UjmtZwNANgO4SrCNqsulBSSwgtpLBNA9FILIsEgrCee2-Z5cAvy0AGfxPPw7uR8ZH3s4KZyJ6nuzYaZ-_78_nU5YLvD-QCFO_c4BqbQ/s320/comet.neowise.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Probably Comet NEOWISE from my driveway? July 2020. </i></td></tr>
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<br />Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-67631679140217740172020-07-11T18:48:00.000-04:002020-07-25T09:50:16.601-04:00Quiet Corner Carnivores<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Yj6B7fq0DoOsfp4c9bHud5TmN0M94PtWkAW3SnnO6wqpHVb-ISE7Aq-oz3lA6zcWB-UeAlsZLbm9b5ofYvpAh0BUzIkh2upydeaQNOGpPtTzCKpouehOumRlqtOPiKggjmdkorpWt7RT/s1600/two.droseras.log.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Yj6B7fq0DoOsfp4c9bHud5TmN0M94PtWkAW3SnnO6wqpHVb-ISE7Aq-oz3lA6zcWB-UeAlsZLbm9b5ofYvpAh0BUzIkh2upydeaQNOGpPtTzCKpouehOumRlqtOPiKggjmdkorpWt7RT/s320/two.droseras.log.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drosera intermedia<i> and a few</i> D. rotundifolia<i> on an old pine log in a pond in Union, Connecticut.</i></td></tr>
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Much of northeastern Connecticut is underlain by thin soils and washed glacial sands and gravels, derived from nutrient-poor gneisses and other old metamorphic rocks. These poor, acidic subtrates create habitats for a variety of carnivorous plants in local bogs, seeps and ponds.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drosera rotundifolia <i>with freshly caught fly</i>. </td></tr>
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We have two native sundews in the Quiet Corner. The Round-leaved Sundew, <i>Drosera rotundifolia</i>, is the more frequently encountered species. It usually grows in sphagnum moss in bogs or on the shores of ponds, but sometimes establishes on rotting, soggy conifer logs or sandy seeps. The Spatulate-leaved Sundew, <i>Drosera intermedia</i>, is most often seen in very wet, peaty mud in bogs, and usually not in living sphagnum moss, though it sometimes grows in damp sand or on fallen logs in ponds, alongside <i>D. rotundifolia</i>. Three other species of <i>Drosera </i>occur in New England, but not as far as I know in Connecticut: <i>D. anglica</i> and <i>D. linearis</i> are boreal plants restricted to the far north of the region. <i>Drosera filiformis</i> occured in the past on the coastal plain in southern New England, but seems to have disappeared, outside of several extant populations out on Cape Cod.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE62dmtWQU2QzVFhHwKZE1nvMgZwUWFhmeYpdWxk62zBDhaS7QTCuQnCvX2CDTsa4kPIwRZxYXJcPwdmB8BgI0KNn9LQWh1dbGR5WO6N_wguDk1xHr72K_JDBIjG5EPqsCml-Nxyl2ZdOs/s1600/bigdroserarotundifolia.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE62dmtWQU2QzVFhHwKZE1nvMgZwUWFhmeYpdWxk62zBDhaS7QTCuQnCvX2CDTsa4kPIwRZxYXJcPwdmB8BgI0KNn9LQWh1dbGR5WO6N_wguDk1xHr72K_JDBIjG5EPqsCml-Nxyl2ZdOs/s320/bigdroserarotundifolia.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>One of the largest individual plants of</i> Drosera rotundifolia <i>that I have ever seen, almost 20 cm across, in a small, isolated sphagnum bog back in the hills of Union, Ct. Other sundews in the area were of more typical size (5-10 cm diameter rosettes), and I suspect this one simply happened to find itself alone with no competition in a particularly favorable spot. </i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Woodland sphagnum bog hosting Round-leaved Sundews in Union, Ct. Photo taken in mid-June, when the Mountain Laurels (</i>Kalmia latifolia<i>), state flower of Connecticut, were flowering. </i></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7dXgdokni6Pig7EpJhRYCpSpsbUbKX2GHE5XQvpnq-JOGhdbX-_zQy-OZAlaD_u1vae6ymSs_KanOsLHNvAR5966llxcqPGvRGnEpM8AfMWyPxzHHxI58DPSOFRkKrUcOq6v_TTuvRGml/s1600/conn.bog.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNs94GMU7QyK65iySW3MtcHS4rH9nlWm9TR_n5VtZsMgqqNqFJlSC089zfltBftySZKDaxKMsKohKp89aWB9RRc3z2tEnxaeVaw8wVTipi-aQ-OsH_HtmD0VhQNhaXYHtbb_UOsieP9ohW/s1600/d.rotundifolia.log.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNs94GMU7QyK65iySW3MtcHS4rH9nlWm9TR_n5VtZsMgqqNqFJlSC089zfltBftySZKDaxKMsKohKp89aWB9RRc3z2tEnxaeVaw8wVTipi-aQ-OsH_HtmD0VhQNhaXYHtbb_UOsieP9ohW/s320/d.rotundifolia.log.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drosera rotundifolia <i>on a waterlogged Eastern Hemlock trunk in Union, Ct.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSCSa8qcy_5GgoDik4QUcGIZXtnkPul33k16tvTXSMqIGcwe9z5r2mvtyNGn14A95lh53E2uDnuwD_-fyeIukrvArIk97gzJ9uQznlfgKMI-r0Olr6cxUVT-S6dp48_NTD6dMcUcl528dq/s320/sarraceniapurp.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sarracenia purpurea <i>on the shore of a pond in Union, Ct. </i></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSCSa8qcy_5GgoDik4QUcGIZXtnkPul33k16tvTXSMqIGcwe9z5r2mvtyNGn14A95lh53E2uDnuwD_-fyeIukrvArIk97gzJ9uQznlfgKMI-r0Olr6cxUVT-S6dp48_NTD6dMcUcl528dq/s1600/sarraceniapurp.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br /></div>
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<i>Sarracenia purpurea</i>, the Purple Pitcher Plant, is the only member of its genus that is native north of Virginia. There is an old herbarium record of one of the southern species, <i>S. flava</i>, growing naturalized in Mansfield, Connecticut, but have checked the site and there is no sign of anything but the native <i>S. purpurea</i> now. Compared to the local sundews, <i>S. purpurea</i> is much more exacting in its habitat requirements, only occurring in sunny sphagnum bogs or other open sites with live sphagnum moss.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVz8lKB1DuVIIUeY7ZleSo3DRkBcnWTIw-Q9_ASY-MEuTv4OjCGa_8GMa4t50xb4aGoe8QXpxn5zVktWSKICU0_OMH9V8XLAX4lgu3JgsLXaWvdgTTEYVNJBdwP3EfwY4MxaHVbLZNy2og/s1600/sarracenia.floatingbog.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVz8lKB1DuVIIUeY7ZleSo3DRkBcnWTIw-Q9_ASY-MEuTv4OjCGa_8GMa4t50xb4aGoe8QXpxn5zVktWSKICU0_OMH9V8XLAX4lgu3JgsLXaWvdgTTEYVNJBdwP3EfwY4MxaHVbLZNy2og/s320/sarracenia.floatingbog.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sarracenia purpurea <i>on a floating island of sphagnum and other vegetation. The site is inaccessible except by boat or swimming; through a zoom lens from the shore the tall fruiting shoots are the only parts of the plants that are easily visible.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga00x6XFFcLGnSFIJVinZ0UNO5h3KM4bTnxw5KV6BK8TW8WBZ-e8G6H_im2sDpwnfaqQj06PgKJLutknZ3sFbe7iqrrWYVGcftaC6iuDyRoeXKa9G1zEI079IqkPS5TYHhj3H8pBz4fX5Y/s320/utricularia.radiata.connecticut.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Utricularia radiata <i>in a slow moving marshy stream in Eastford, Ct. Underwater shoots with bladder traps are visible to the right of the flowers. </i></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga00x6XFFcLGnSFIJVinZ0UNO5h3KM4bTnxw5KV6BK8TW8WBZ-e8G6H_im2sDpwnfaqQj06PgKJLutknZ3sFbe7iqrrWYVGcftaC6iuDyRoeXKa9G1zEI079IqkPS5TYHhj3H8pBz4fX5Y/s1600/utricularia.radiata.connecticut.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br /></div>
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Aquatic bladderworts are the most common and diverse carnivorous plants in northeastern Connecticut, with one or more of about five different <i>Utricularia </i>species being found in just about every lake, pond, kettle hole, sluggish stream or marsh in the area. An agricultural or ornamental pond has to be pretty badly abused before the ubiquitous <i>U. gibba</i> disappears. <i>Utricularia radiata</i>, with its aerial flowering shoots held up by distinctive star-shaped floats, seems to show up mostly in more pristine sites with cleaner water.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaLzzRlht-f4EaoUpndRCdYrecotUImp8-mt2zef2JQ8ZOjbXAooBwRZ2sHwm_U8qCQW6WtaviFgKcmKnFfseyBmZSYsRfopem942IyQociCy7t7sDANZEJvPHoaEuLPFgMjzDC1OCwuRv/s1600/drosera.turtle.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaLzzRlht-f4EaoUpndRCdYrecotUImp8-mt2zef2JQ8ZOjbXAooBwRZ2sHwm_U8qCQW6WtaviFgKcmKnFfseyBmZSYsRfopem942IyQociCy7t7sDANZEJvPHoaEuLPFgMjzDC1OCwuRv/s320/drosera.turtle.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Another pine log community with </i>Drosera intermedia <i>and</i> D. rotundifolia. <i>See if you can spot the medium-sized snapping turtle guarding the carnivorous plants from curious waders.</i> </td></tr>
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<br />Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-64724832797581587192020-05-22T13:19:00.000-04:002020-05-22T13:19:04.244-04:00A Cold Spring<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQG7Ao6Rv0FkFEWHLgnDg8k7Ka9PWD_LWXmSppwVyFa8T2Mtwm3gLjk-UPeoG249D8JP4NMIXO8DW5ipVrM55d_xnJ3qe98qwRPXMHzt_aAxXgDkHmsb3bZPCnDDIIEj8yaDY_UEtRXmJd/s1600/may.9.snow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQG7Ao6Rv0FkFEWHLgnDg8k7Ka9PWD_LWXmSppwVyFa8T2Mtwm3gLjk-UPeoG249D8JP4NMIXO8DW5ipVrM55d_xnJ3qe98qwRPXMHzt_aAxXgDkHmsb3bZPCnDDIIEj8yaDY_UEtRXmJd/s320/may.9.snow.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Spring snow showers in northeastern Connecticut, May 9, 2020.</i></td></tr>
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It was not much of a winter here in the Northeast, with barely any snow, generally mild temperatures, and as a consequence, a short, early and unproductive maple sugaring season. This has been balanced to a certain extent by the weather since April being mostly colder than average. A couple of weeks ago we even had a chilly, overcast day with on and off snow showers. Nothing accumulated on the ground, but it was the latest snow that I can recall in eastern Connecticut.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkwnu9daT1-_4smlVS74guloPq4ExO7I5lXoWvraQGK4tTbplTQ-Qz_272XtoeJASt2w7MPLxx-slYv5Zm78ywMbvJO1X3S71Tc0T87hplZNsEhPB5BJkGaf7IzlygEUyRpp3Xrx_5T2W-/s1600/potentilla.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkwnu9daT1-_4smlVS74guloPq4ExO7I5lXoWvraQGK4tTbplTQ-Qz_272XtoeJASt2w7MPLxx-slYv5Zm78ywMbvJO1X3S71Tc0T87hplZNsEhPB5BJkGaf7IzlygEUyRpp3Xrx_5T2W-/s320/potentilla.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Potentilla canadensis <i>(Dwarf Cinquefoil) with just a touch of frost, morning of May 21, 2020.</i></td></tr>
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Then, yesterday morning, temperatures got down to just above freezing, and there were patches of frost out on the lawn, on lower, open spots. In this area, the official frost danger season lasts until the end of May, and frost is not uncommon until about May 15; in my experience we have light frost in mid-May about every five years. But this is the first time I've actually seen this kind of cold after May 20, and I was scrambling to cover up garden seedlings and bring houseplants indoors the night before.<br />
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At this point we seem to be done with the cold, and the weather is rapidly transitioning to summer-like temperatures. The native plants seem mostly unfazed by the late cold snap, with maybe a little burning on the edges of tender fern fronds about the only damage I've seen.Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-80430760220515296182020-04-01T19:22:00.000-04:002020-04-01T19:22:37.300-04:00Spring Cancellations<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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For the past few weeks it seems like I'm spending at least a few minutes each day on email cancelling or indefinitely postponing various talks and meetings. Back in early March, the Connecticut Cactus & Succulent Society held a meeting as scheduled, but there was some talk among the officers about whether future events would have to be shut down because of COVID-19. Now, at the beginning of April, that seems like it was years ago. This month's big cactus annual cactus show is cancelled, of course, and at this point we're hoping to be able to be able to hold one in March 2021.<br />
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The UConn campus is mostly shut down, with classes finishing out the semester online. I'm still coming in to keep the research and teaching greenhouses operational; fortunately it is easy to maintain appropriate physical distancing, with very few other people on campus at this point.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hepatica americana <i>in Storrs, Ct, April 1, 2020. </i></td></tr>
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Spring is underway out in the woods, regardless of the shutting down of so much human activity. I got out for a short hike after work today, and saw that the flowering season had started for a lovely native wildflower, Round-lobed Hepatica. I have been checking in on this particular patch of a dozen hepatica plants for more than 20 years, and it hasn't changed much over the decades; I suspect that the plants are very long-lived. <br />
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<i>Hepatica americana</i> is in the plant family Ranunculaceae (the buttercup family). Some botanists lump <i>Hepatica </i>into the closely-related genus <i>Anemone</i>; this species would be <i>Anemone americana</i> under that treatment.Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-23610610273364725922020-01-30T21:43:00.000-05:002020-01-30T21:43:27.875-05:00The Neighborhood Eagles<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6HjqTcztCsw0vIvLuzm9iLd70o7mOn0MeEuru0VgjpjP9017pFN2S_VWp62fOtWrs25cyAIdVlSJS7kGxBSfmFHDfLXLY2Rtdh5X14MqXaE_aN84yAhOUHO1zBra0kFoivU6bUy3q5Pv/s1600/bald.eagle.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1088" data-original-width="1500" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6HjqTcztCsw0vIvLuzm9iLd70o7mOn0MeEuru0VgjpjP9017pFN2S_VWp62fOtWrs25cyAIdVlSJS7kGxBSfmFHDfLXLY2Rtdh5X14MqXaE_aN84yAhOUHO1zBra0kFoivU6bUy3q5Pv/s320/bald.eagle.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Bald Eagle in Mansfield Hollow State Park, Mansfield, Conn. </i></td></tr>
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<br />It's the end of <a href="https://nectchamber.com/tlgvs-january-calendar-its-eagle-month/">Eagle Month</a> here in the <a href="https://thelastgreenvalley.org/">Last Green Valley</a> and I've seen Bald Eagles on several occasions recently at one of the nearby preserves, Mansfield Hollow State Park. Bald Eagles mostly hunt and hang out around rivers, coastal areas and larger bodies of water, such as Mansfield Hollow Lake, an artificial reservoir about two miles in its longest dimension.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1wGWVmaVtaQYhgnjyN_LZ5lwa9WEji6Ima8i5Q9gjxeC_YRpiyWpdgVsyUvfQ8yvj9V1myaFU-pxZX8pD4zO9a1FzNOnurwJ2IHu0sjmlWveDavlgDBkuawphC2OkFIHnzWUN1g9vDZaz/s1600/eagles.mansfieldhollow.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1187" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1wGWVmaVtaQYhgnjyN_LZ5lwa9WEji6Ima8i5Q9gjxeC_YRpiyWpdgVsyUvfQ8yvj9V1myaFU-pxZX8pD4zO9a1FzNOnurwJ2IHu0sjmlWveDavlgDBkuawphC2OkFIHnzWUN1g9vDZaz/s320/eagles.mansfieldhollow.JPG" width="237" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Adult and juvenile Bald Eagles in a dead White Pine. </i></td></tr>
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There are at least two adult eagles and one juvenile (with a brown head) in the Mansfield Hollow reservoir area this winter. There is a known nest site a little south of Mansfield Hollow, on the Shetucket River in Windham, so these birds could very well be that eagle family out hunting for the day. Eagles sightings are a lot more common than they used to be (with low single digit numbers of birds living in Connecticut as recently as the 1990s), but still scarce enough that the <a href="https://www.ct.gov/deep/cwp/view.asp?a=2723&q=599242&deepNav_GID=1655">state DEEP</a> keeps tabs on pretty much every nesting pair, and seeing them in the wild close to home still seems like a very special treat.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_G6KalC32Ks6aUJq4mciE2lzGzkJjTowEPuahpb1O2AHJfdNDyiNSaUBgDFAoPwtiwvbq-ak3VPCeSgZdt4fOMUcUnPVwcF52721PMk5ZM5Q4fsXUXmnjE6YLbs5IQqlfxOTb-Sg9egYV/s1600/mansfieldhollow.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1214" data-original-width="1500" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_G6KalC32Ks6aUJq4mciE2lzGzkJjTowEPuahpb1O2AHJfdNDyiNSaUBgDFAoPwtiwvbq-ak3VPCeSgZdt4fOMUcUnPVwcF52721PMk5ZM5Q4fsXUXmnjE6YLbs5IQqlfxOTb-Sg9egYV/s320/mansfieldhollow.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Old road swamped by the Mansfield Hollow reservoir after January rains.</i> </td></tr>
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Overall it's been a very mild winter here in northeastern Connecticut, with just thin and short-lived snow cover and lake ice. Possibly this has encouraged the eagles to stick around the reservoir, which would be completely iced over for long stretches in a more typical winter. I started up my maple sugaring operation last weekend and there has been a fair amount of sap flowing; the traditional start time for maple sugaring in southern New England was more like Valentine's Day.Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-36121145693678724692019-06-29T16:02:00.000-04:002019-06-29T16:02:46.005-04:00Gypsy Moth Damage<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIuIQBB4qxFPeoC5GCbVLHYiKGj23X8ScyXbA849Pfd7ZkF_8EO3Bhsx3Po988qxFYZq-eZyn14ENJg1NmVVfRrHf_WozvUdGV51of-AHVfe49acDxMA3RGPYPzfMo_L6SjgLL3FGWbJEK/s1600/old.white.oak.dead.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="1001" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIuIQBB4qxFPeoC5GCbVLHYiKGj23X8ScyXbA849Pfd7ZkF_8EO3Bhsx3Po988qxFYZq-eZyn14ENJg1NmVVfRrHf_WozvUdGV51of-AHVfe49acDxMA3RGPYPzfMo_L6SjgLL3FGWbJEK/s320/old.white.oak.dead.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>An old, specimen White Oak killed by Gypsy Moths, June 2019. Cat for scale at base of tree. Note the stacks of firewood in the background from trees that died last summer. </i></td></tr>
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Eastern Connecticut and adjacent areas have been suffering from a severe <a href="http://burgersonion.blogspot.com/2017/07/minor-natural-disasters-summer-17.html">Gypsy Moth outbreak</a> for the past few years. The worst of it probably happened in 2017 for a lot of places, but my local area in Mansfield Center experienced patches of total defoliation in the summer of 2018, and now, a year later, it's clear that a lot of trees are goners. Most of these trees had leafed out again after the caterpillars had finished feeding in July 2018, but many trees were apparently weakened, and became infested by wood-boring beetles and probably fungal pests. An unusually hot, humid late summer probably did not help. The foliage on the weakest trees then started turning brown from the top of the crown downwards; trees with these symptoms seem to be mostly dead in 2019, with just a few of them leafing out weakly from lower branches, with dead tops, this summer.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW6_tqrBPZDK7iSlDb0AkYpTAlvEN7bdovMWHP_TZhdu3MmV29PyheIpKAmthokL0vEeIC-OoIjp8nVVBtVY1WBO7cUf1ipBc6OVhw32yZsaHYEDg5ZIsEzugVIw1Ht_CaD2o6z3PhM8IE/s1600/mansfield.center.gypsy.moth.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1333" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW6_tqrBPZDK7iSlDb0AkYpTAlvEN7bdovMWHP_TZhdu3MmV29PyheIpKAmthokL0vEeIC-OoIjp8nVVBtVY1WBO7cUf1ipBc6OVhw32yZsaHYEDg5ZIsEzugVIw1Ht_CaD2o6z3PhM8IE/s320/mansfield.center.gypsy.moth.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Severe tree mortality, mainly among White Oaks, on a dry gravelly ridge on state park land in Mansfield Center Ct.</i></td></tr>
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Gypsy Moths defoliate just about everything, including pines, during a bad infestation, but they prefer oaks, especially White Oak (<i>Quercus alba</i>). White Oaks account for the majority of the tree deaths in my area, with just a few scattered red oaks and trees of other species having expired. The greatest number of dead trees seem to be on drier, warmer, more exposed sites; I'm not sure if this is just a function of where the densest stands of White Oak were, or if diseases and predators of Gypsy Moths perform better in damper, shadier places.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitCyeKEjREf6JjTKKP3ro8a77FG_DSQIQwtiQsf2kEorQ6ClKrILtKTZBks6fQTYS1x-FpugTpxPFBE-6Qzcz_DeGzt4LjeodktvN2fsaTgemgTdVX2IEBqweX85QVIBA5_9RYZbNPVrK1/s1600/mansfield.center.view.moth.damage.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1333" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitCyeKEjREf6JjTKKP3ro8a77FG_DSQIQwtiQsf2kEorQ6ClKrILtKTZBks6fQTYS1x-FpugTpxPFBE-6Qzcz_DeGzt4LjeodktvN2fsaTgemgTdVX2IEBqweX85QVIBA5_9RYZbNPVrK1/s320/mansfield.center.view.moth.damage.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The view from Coney Rock looking south to Mansfield Center; grey areas are all dead trees. </i></td></tr>
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Across the region, <a href="https://today.uconn.edu/2019/06/uconn-collaborates-gypsy-moth-cleanup/">tens of thousands of acres</a> of forest have suffered significant tree loss during the Gypsy Moth outbreak of recent years. In addition to the immediate and easily quantifiable losses from the cost of dealing with dead trees that are going to become hazards to life and property as they decay, I suspect that there will be essentially permanent ecological effects. The oaks and all of the insects and larger wildlife that depend on them are likely to become less abundant, while Red Maple (<i>Acer rubrum</i>) is going to be much more dominant in the decades to come. Woodpeckers are going to have a very good couple of years with all of the insect-infested standing timber around, but might decline when those dead trees start to disappear, and aren't replaced as they would have been in a normally functioning mature forest.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix7W_sIw2f5GKdmRWlQjSNCBLAngPi8jKdopoLZZC7IAeD8854sUmV28vywUMTVlQk92m3vF9xMMT1O1OBplT5ZhkyH3xAmeQ-oQ7NdgPI3dRkCeH6h7bLzynl6TX1L-An4TpGVHLfdu1q/s1600/wolf.tree.quercus.alba.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="1001" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix7W_sIw2f5GKdmRWlQjSNCBLAngPi8jKdopoLZZC7IAeD8854sUmV28vywUMTVlQk92m3vF9xMMT1O1OBplT5ZhkyH3xAmeQ-oQ7NdgPI3dRkCeH6h7bLzynl6TX1L-An4TpGVHLfdu1q/s320/wolf.tree.quercus.alba.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The ancient "wolf tree" White Oak at Coney Rock in Mansfield: still perfectly healthy this summer.</i></td></tr>
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The Great Gypsy Moth Outbreak of 2016-2018 is, I hope, now finished. The caterpillars are still around here and there in fairly high numbers, but there don't seem to be enough of them anywhere to actually defoliate trees this summer. What is left of the moth population is clearly suffering from a fungal disease (<em style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;"><a href="https://news.cornell.edu/stories/2016/04/new-pathogen-takes-control-gypsy-moth-populations">Entomophaga maimaiga</a><span id="goog_1156371494"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a><span id="goog_1156371495"></span></em>) that turns the caterpillars to black mush, and any Gypsy Moth egg masses that manage to get produced next month are going to be hit hard by a minute parasitoid wa<span style="font-family: inherit;">sp (<span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="https://bugguide.net/node/view/1177364">Ooencyrtus kuvanae</a></i>?</span><span style="background-color: white;">) that started showing up in large numbers last summer and autumn. I'll be keeping my fingers crossed. </span></span>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-10583035653817131082019-04-14T08:52:00.000-04:002019-04-14T08:52:05.419-04:00Connecticut Cactus and Succulent Show 2019<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin6Zc-TfWsfeALbJt1zF8CNTRljZyztxAPjYo4v6H1itM_eZw0ACzb0_ugmKDOfcwiA2GfjPAkn8OK-8R2-xn92Pk6bMY-uf_Zj7SqaCgfG0iHMZ2qK0CEGPmRuFIbIiqw_w_FWF7NTFQ_/s1600/cactus.show.sign.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin6Zc-TfWsfeALbJt1zF8CNTRljZyztxAPjYo4v6H1itM_eZw0ACzb0_ugmKDOfcwiA2GfjPAkn8OK-8R2-xn92Pk6bMY-uf_Zj7SqaCgfG0iHMZ2qK0CEGPmRuFIbIiqw_w_FWF7NTFQ_/s320/cactus.show.sign.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />The 2019 Connecticut Cactus and Succulent Show is taking place this weekend at the Bristol Community Center. This is the second year the show has been held at this location, and while it's generally a great venue, big crowds show up and parking space is fairly limited, so you might wind up parking streetside out in the neighborhood and walking to the community center if you arrive much after the opening time.<div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhloZFyHrpJ9yG1isDFmdLM6GY7INj2t-B4bjHEfRH2VZGUD18tYurFRx9cRaG__asPrGq-Cslpv13FO7ewfWUi_1HSyyU-dq1IeXAOfkApuJTWtoYyzuAE94fQ8pUvqCCqo1VlT_Sug3dK/s1600/cactus.show.free.plants.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="909" data-original-width="1561" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhloZFyHrpJ9yG1isDFmdLM6GY7INj2t-B4bjHEfRH2VZGUD18tYurFRx9cRaG__asPrGq-Cslpv13FO7ewfWUi_1HSyyU-dq1IeXAOfkApuJTWtoYyzuAE94fQ8pUvqCCqo1VlT_Sug3dK/s320/cactus.show.free.plants.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The free plant line Saturday morning. </i></td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: center;">The Connecticut C&S Society gives away free plants to the first 50 people who line up in the morning. The giveaways are pretty common stuff of course, but this is always a popular event. </span><div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizoSxeWBp_IdX9TKifzMMtAW2Wc4aAIwuDYOKUZk_PqOx2PcrQxsB5nREpKi01d56po9zGU6Mr8S1maI11xJ23Q3oki9b-NIOCwCjngCiueeMlC79kIwShX6Py1aty0zIMb54HIMtR68Dm/s1600/cactus.show.dealers.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizoSxeWBp_IdX9TKifzMMtAW2Wc4aAIwuDYOKUZk_PqOx2PcrQxsB5nREpKi01d56po9zGU6Mr8S1maI11xJ23Q3oki9b-NIOCwCjngCiueeMlC79kIwShX6Py1aty0zIMb54HIMtR68Dm/s320/cactus.show.dealers.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The vendors' room shortly after opening Saturday.</i></td></tr>
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The sales area had a full complement of dealers this year and was packed with customers Saturday morning. By the end of the day the tables were looking a little picked over, but there was still plenty of interesting material left for Sunday, such as this <i>Hohenbergia</i>, which caught my eye. This is a spiny bromeliad, about the size of a two liter soda bottle, still somewhat rare in cultivation; I have seen some great specimens in collections in California, but not in the East before. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEije3PmP81ardJh_rFBDLfVyiqahpyvBHk5DGgKMOZowXQfqYPAzDKyi7Eynv5_6NN0Y78wfZUMQuUM_0plL3gWVqyZBjVb6SljmFSEyaLknyscbolr9PZGuLod7Zs21cK00nkr1bPxVcSE/s1600/hohenbergia.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEije3PmP81ardJh_rFBDLfVyiqahpyvBHk5DGgKMOZowXQfqYPAzDKyi7Eynv5_6NN0Y78wfZUMQuUM_0plL3gWVqyZBjVb6SljmFSEyaLknyscbolr9PZGuLod7Zs21cK00nkr1bPxVcSE/s320/hohenbergia.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hohenbergia endmundoi<i> at David Burdick's booth. </i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEVZfNNeE15snNGMLiytlicO5MHyEyCfBjkeE6lKUC7Fw5INY2Cu9NdAeq4ns0SPa8PqhTVeRcAtx00XAa0I0mCnfgHPxpTaNwPSegGwxepbNd6eYQcjsC9EK-U1twQsE0xZ7odbdD9PWw/s1600/pachypodiums.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEVZfNNeE15snNGMLiytlicO5MHyEyCfBjkeE6lKUC7Fw5INY2Cu9NdAeq4ns0SPa8PqhTVeRcAtx00XAa0I0mCnfgHPxpTaNwPSegGwxepbNd6eYQcjsC9EK-U1twQsE0xZ7odbdD9PWw/s320/pachypodiums.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pachypodiums in the judged show area. </td></tr>
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The judged show was pretty full this year; it looked like there were more entries than in the past couple of years, with more people entering plants from a broader range of categories.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRktehI5KXB6KBxVoMh2IESb2-spWGKANuk6-Q9Ms0XTzXkAn3yJBzV9uzZu_klYUrfa5hTIN4JEDXZFKEEoAUJMg50sbupZHJtC5meDtR6luYIj5T1kaxFndUoS5ZibbWNkfJvXqbVhgr/s1600/rebutias.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRktehI5KXB6KBxVoMh2IESb2-spWGKANuk6-Q9Ms0XTzXkAn3yJBzV9uzZu_klYUrfa5hTIN4JEDXZFKEEoAUJMg50sbupZHJtC5meDtR6luYIj5T1kaxFndUoS5ZibbWNkfJvXqbVhgr/s320/rebutias.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rebutia<i> plants in the 2019 cactus show</i></td></tr>
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The cactus division was well stocked, with some flowering plants, even though mid-April is a little early for peak cactus bloom for most growers in New England. Years ago Ron Byrom, who owned a small nursery called Real Rebutias, was a regular at the annual Connecticut shows; he sadly passed away relatively young in a traffic accident while on vacation in South America. Ron didn't have a greenhouse, so he kept his <i>Rebutia </i>plants in a cold, dark basement all winter, in a dry and dormant state. A few weeks before the show in April, he would load his plants into his station wagon, water them, and park in a sunny spot. By the time of the show, his plants in their improvised greenhouse would perk up and set flower buds and be ready for display! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAHj0KYGTUVp_iC8X-QUeaHmOv1CHO2MqirksA4RaoEh6-X2_nvlpFmYqLlZZtGkf_OPoiqQ1-A7txgyWtOtL1N001QU4QFT9xxPcsbqcN4CaKf4d1KPaZovjfPSFkdUS-sLcBSb_8wWxt/s1600/oonos.collection.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAHj0KYGTUVp_iC8X-QUeaHmOv1CHO2MqirksA4RaoEh6-X2_nvlpFmYqLlZZtGkf_OPoiqQ1-A7txgyWtOtL1N001QU4QFT9xxPcsbqcN4CaKf4d1KPaZovjfPSFkdUS-sLcBSb_8wWxt/s320/oonos.collection.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Conophytum<i> plants in the show. It looks like</i> C. calculus <i>got the blue ribbon.</i> </td></tr>
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In past shows I've usually been one of the few people entering mesembs (living stones etc., family Aizoaceae) in the show, but I was pleased to have some competition from some of the younger members of the CCSS this year. It seems like these plants are becoming more popular lately, as part of a general increase in enthusiasm for succulent plants.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ_3XE9BrctxByBY-y5hCNIRQXoyvVMUz9s6AK6HzgOulSUsISmBo_60_I1pD3wI3NYdn9QPFYWKjrgsnMybPyiIaryLlCiUdIuL008BEvXv4RyKd8N3XRE-vF4CZW-81Gc_XFm8b7ciB7/s1600/conophytum.ernstii.cerbellum.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ_3XE9BrctxByBY-y5hCNIRQXoyvVMUz9s6AK6HzgOulSUsISmBo_60_I1pD3wI3NYdn9QPFYWKjrgsnMybPyiIaryLlCiUdIuL008BEvXv4RyKd8N3XRE-vF4CZW-81Gc_XFm8b7ciB7/s320/conophytum.ernstii.cerbellum.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Conophytum ernstii ssp. cerebellum.</td></tr>
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One especially impressive entry not from me was an ancient pot of <i>Conophytum ernstii </i>ssp. <i>cerebellum</i>, from a grower in the Philadelphia area who is fairly new to the Connecticut club. These plants were originally in Frank Distefano's collection (which is now dispersed), and must have been started from one of the first distributions of seed of this taxon, around the time it was described in the late 1980s.<br />
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Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-24978276326512123992018-09-30T21:00:00.000-04:002019-06-29T13:51:12.541-04:00New England Carnivorous Plant Show 2018<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE51d9Q-ixBd_HpznFd2Ehmyug2jQbWYLEOXKVC-Tm5K-IU9InZEtCMCxU6OQfwyYqbTOkfhEXnYQnRfHE6v0MhdfrJt892GMEOIK6TNoIkOlQYEerWbs7qHyPbxi7U1bQiJ91Df9NJObh/s1600/carnivorous.plant.fairy.garden.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE51d9Q-ixBd_HpznFd2Ehmyug2jQbWYLEOXKVC-Tm5K-IU9InZEtCMCxU6OQfwyYqbTOkfhEXnYQnRfHE6v0MhdfrJt892GMEOIK6TNoIkOlQYEerWbs7qHyPbxi7U1bQiJ91Df9NJObh/s320/carnivorous.plant.fairy.garden.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A carnivorous plant fairy garden. It's kind of implied that the local fairies aren't the brightest bulbs on the tree. </i> </td></tr>
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Earlier this month, the New England Carnivorous Plant Society held its annual show at Tower Hill Botanic Garden near Worcester, Mass. There were nearly 2000 visitors for the weekend, which is a little down from recent years, but still impressive for a specialist plant show.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4d2l9yoMX8fHzsGvDBT5Ja-KFdNCOwGsnvND8LjsBKygb4lixSY8N8tYHisswmwnQLBbOxdVv9HCMMBA6Hs-fDcS6YAgio08yTvnotOWY6Kju71IWTg6VlgJrXeFsOx5wcRcuTzk5AHWe/s1600/darlingtonia.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4d2l9yoMX8fHzsGvDBT5Ja-KFdNCOwGsnvND8LjsBKygb4lixSY8N8tYHisswmwnQLBbOxdVv9HCMMBA6Hs-fDcS6YAgio08yTvnotOWY6Kju71IWTg6VlgJrXeFsOx5wcRcuTzk5AHWe/s320/darlingtonia.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Darlingtonia californica.</td></tr>
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One of the special events at this year's show was the Cobra Lily Challenge. In general, <i>Darlingtonia</i>, the Cobra Lily, is difficult to grow in the Northeast and is poorly represented in shows. So back in June, the NECPS distributed divisions of Darlingtonia to interested members, in exchange for a promise to bring the plants back to display in September.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijqHkfxACN1jwBwc6MebQKWaIwyn-DyuL0yMn2Nr21QantOvigptw4dyODoVldffwqq_K7ISlLMW4Tf7DqRi_dcKk-0vmX7zOpp_veFxSfN39cDbFOCFp16qjXWY2zPXQ2Hw0HDnn8_V1H/s1600/necps.darlingtonia.challenge.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijqHkfxACN1jwBwc6MebQKWaIwyn-DyuL0yMn2Nr21QantOvigptw4dyODoVldffwqq_K7ISlLMW4Tf7DqRi_dcKk-0vmX7zOpp_veFxSfN39cDbFOCFp16qjXWY2zPXQ2Hw0HDnn8_V1H/s320/necps.darlingtonia.challenge.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Cobra Lily Challenge display.</i> </td></tr>
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The main issue with cultivating Darlingtonia in this area seems to be that the plants like their roots kept cool, and suffer in hot muggy weather, especially when temperatures stay warm all night. People have tried various tricks, like irrigating with ice water or keeping plants in air conditioned terrariums, but the some of the best results were with plants grown mainly outdoors, but protected from the worst of this summer's heatwaves by, e.g., bringing them temporarily indoors in air conditioned spaces under lights.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcSUeuUz-_f_PJn17OSzE1mIo1cgVNr86_Bwv0CbJ6J4KhOTORW6K3slnwNnEzVjagEzNaDsIHrP0LrPXhhJ32ArmKy4Wvw6t8ntRpNuptVjwLHpLixvD97Vmzg06-UVqLdtu85GVuzpFF/s1600/necps.show.2018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcSUeuUz-_f_PJn17OSzE1mIo1cgVNr86_Bwv0CbJ6J4KhOTORW6K3slnwNnEzVjagEzNaDsIHrP0LrPXhhJ32ArmKy4Wvw6t8ntRpNuptVjwLHpLixvD97Vmzg06-UVqLdtu85GVuzpFF/s320/necps.show.2018.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drosera, Drosophyllum, Utricularia<i> and others in the show. </i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiStZWkNsvaegaGqeE4Lnbe_zvRhyphenhyphen0cKDAOw6zWS9QLgZXpD_4zMlNCfuZrP2o9CkRO0KgvErI-JGUuNoOn75cYU4Ju9AwTzDeaPbBFNAGGqAFiIw_p3F0VO_9_Nz4T_lZ2DU7hJVIU1w8e/s1600/sarracenia.leucophylla.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1125" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiStZWkNsvaegaGqeE4Lnbe_zvRhyphenhyphen0cKDAOw6zWS9QLgZXpD_4zMlNCfuZrP2o9CkRO0KgvErI-JGUuNoOn75cYU4Ju9AwTzDeaPbBFNAGGqAFiIw_p3F0VO_9_Nz4T_lZ2DU7hJVIU1w8e/s320/sarracenia.leucophylla.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sarracenia leucophylla. </td></tr>
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There were a number of interesting talks at the show, in particular a presentation by Prof. Larry Mellichamp of the University of North Carolina, on the question of how the American Pitcher Plants (<i>Sarracenia</i>) avoid trapping potential pollinating insects. The various species of <i>Sarracenia</i> produce pitcher traps and flowers at different times of the year, separated at different heights, and/or with different attractants that draw in separate populations of prey insects and pollinators. <i>Sarracenia leucophylla</i>, for instance, produces dark maroon, bumblebee-pollinated flowers in spring, while its largest, most effective traps emerge in summer and autumn, and use sweet odors and pure white coloration to attract moths at night.Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-62160905901629670122018-06-03T10:37:00.002-04:002018-06-03T10:37:59.254-04:00 Periodical Cicada Transplant<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEr0LI1HlonhKgMPlvpU-7aKOyR7UGVS0_Fwze3Rb_CQA-c72xJQ9bMe_UdNfu4MQFgFgMdv-8eGw6I1FjsROqkdSlplPIAJgyPgTfPE9Z_fX7tPiVq9KUiiUl7GEEMSnkMge47zLyM1dc/s1600/magicicada.uconn.6.18.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1168" data-original-width="1600" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEr0LI1HlonhKgMPlvpU-7aKOyR7UGVS0_Fwze3Rb_CQA-c72xJQ9bMe_UdNfu4MQFgFgMdv-8eGw6I1FjsROqkdSlplPIAJgyPgTfPE9Z_fX7tPiVq9KUiiUl7GEEMSnkMge47zLyM1dc/s320/magicicada.uconn.6.18.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Magicicada septendecim <i>on a gooseberry in the UConn EEB Greenhouse garden, Storrs, Ct. June 1, 2018.</i></td></tr>
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Back in the spring of 2001, John Cooley and Dave Marshall of the Simon lab at the University of Connecticut collected some periodical cicadas in upstate New York and brought them back to the EEB department's research garden at UConn. Apparently, some of those cicadas laid eggs, and the nymphs developed on the roots of some small red oak trees in the garden, because now, 17 years later, cicadas are emerging in the garden.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM1qaNavUxXbYKg9XTVOs8Br2G3JKiEvPzNqnt6aS3gOK9XrqVw9S_LjCvdNitbTtSV85FE3bcFtIZ3XIvOqdMlig76aCe5nj_CTZI_y763RmD3JoQzoKVv5ecDGUeh4VAldRuFg2C5vs7/s1600/magicicada.shed.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1142" data-original-width="1600" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM1qaNavUxXbYKg9XTVOs8Br2G3JKiEvPzNqnt6aS3gOK9XrqVw9S_LjCvdNitbTtSV85FE3bcFtIZ3XIvOqdMlig76aCe5nj_CTZI_y763RmD3JoQzoKVv5ecDGUeh4VAldRuFg2C5vs7/s320/magicicada.shed.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Magicicada septendecim<i>, shed exoskeleton of nymph on a raspberry bush.</i></td></tr>
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These cicadas are from <a href="http://magicicada.org/magicicada/brood_07/">brood VII</a>, from the Finger Lakes region of New York, now restricted to the Onondaga Nation but formerly with a larger range. Chris Simon reports that the New York population started emerging on May 31, the exact same day as the transplanted cicadas in the garden at UConn. Maybe 20 or so cicadas have emerged at UConn, and mostly flown off around campus. I haven't heard them calling, but I'll keep an ear out, and watch for signs that they are reproducing, like "<a href="http://www.cicadamania.com/cicadas/got-flagging-2/">flagging</a>" on the branches of the local trees. It strikes me as unlikely that a new population could establish itself from maybe a few dozen insects, but I guess we'll have a better idea in 2035.Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109390741389284924.post-47751049012562097662018-03-13T20:09:00.002-04:002018-03-13T20:09:33.501-04:00Mud Season 2K18 Astronomy + Maple Sugaring<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPDVv3-TD6-jsPXWWbW3VmT5QgT8kQKZO7XNKnY4j8QWopRR_YVDHp7i91nM2E9FR6tkyxyQjTjkpzI3wsRPMSK_n8UEb__BOeWJy553yvAHXFcubjmDHtaShAiD6n5UokSW9E5p7-996X/s1600/venus.mercury.march2018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1209" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPDVv3-TD6-jsPXWWbW3VmT5QgT8kQKZO7XNKnY4j8QWopRR_YVDHp7i91nM2E9FR6tkyxyQjTjkpzI3wsRPMSK_n8UEb__BOeWJy553yvAHXFcubjmDHtaShAiD6n5UokSW9E5p7-996X/s320/venus.mercury.march2018.JPG" width="257" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Venus and Mercury (top center) over Mansfield Connecticut, March 6, 2018.</i></td></tr>
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In between the weekly nor'easters that have been hitting New England lately, there have been some good chances to see the planet Mercury. Mercury is always fairly close in the sky to the sun and generally tricky to observe, and I don't think that I have ever spotted it before. However, this March, Mercury is not only bright and relatively high in the sky just after sunset, but also quite close to the very easy to locate planet Venus, which serves as an obvious marker of Mercury's location. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMSXHhVTQk5STKm6DyQKFazLO4KnLXMG44uPZIoLzuLxvjcog1jHuFVXl6l_j4_SBnl1IzdL9EsfbP8qWmaAp_9Yb3wtyfwlpN6lDviJV6aNrUzh0z9l78O-D-PiFMIVv2juAmRiRyMj6o/s1600/venus.mercury.clouds.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1050" data-original-width="1400" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMSXHhVTQk5STKm6DyQKFazLO4KnLXMG44uPZIoLzuLxvjcog1jHuFVXl6l_j4_SBnl1IzdL9EsfbP8qWmaAp_9Yb3wtyfwlpN6lDviJV6aNrUzh0z9l78O-D-PiFMIVv2juAmRiRyMj6o/s320/venus.mercury.clouds.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Venus and Mercury peaking out between layers of clouds. </i></td></tr>
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I've now seen Mercury a couple of times, including the night before last week's snow storm, when the clouds were just barely moving in enough to create some interesting scenes, but mostly didn't block the planets. That evening I also glimpsed a really good shooting star, which lasted for a solid second or two. The planets are visible around half an hour to an hour after sunset, near the western horizon, with Venus being to the bright white one and Mercury being the dimmer (but still surprisingly bright), reddish one up and to the right of Venus. Last week they were quite close to each other, but they were further apart when I checked the other night, separated by the width of several fingers held at arm's length. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBny4-tNqABPZBj26xsy2Jwb66cvTZHajCS7JzkXBPrBLJ1-55OTDbsrUbH6kF2NLmGk-nZfd5xPJZpqN7wrOnsXMY3yehBv7yI8aia88FWh1pLUJ_NIiUYjKWolStr4KNbmn0BT1lercH/s1600/acer.saccharum.tapping.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1050" data-original-width="1400" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBny4-tNqABPZBj26xsy2Jwb66cvTZHajCS7JzkXBPrBLJ1-55OTDbsrUbH6kF2NLmGk-nZfd5xPJZpqN7wrOnsXMY3yehBv7yI8aia88FWh1pLUJ_NIiUYjKWolStr4KNbmn0BT1lercH/s320/acer.saccharum.tapping.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Maple sugaring, Mansfield Center, early March. </i></td></tr>
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This year I made the decision to start my maple sugaring operation in mid-January, rather than the traditional Valentine's Day. There were quite a few thaws and warmer spells (the arctic outbreak around the holidays didn't last), and the early start allowed me to take advantage of some productive January sap runs. February saw warmer than average temperatures, including a couple of days in the mid-70s F that broke not only daily and monthly records, but set a new record high in the Hartford area for the entire meteorological winter (December through February). The sap flowed really well during the heat wave, but yielded a strong-tasting, almost black "cooking-grade" syrup, of the type that is usually only produced at the very tail end of the season. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim8AY3bG4-eIlfaM4g_soMBkbilmheun2TzBGThblxi-5d1zUVNas7rrl2umHOVGvnBomeKBm1gtUizFfIPugM1Zt_anr3MugRI3mwYQTQI3y__D3rcuFBA_6MxBakRcnPeM01zOS92D-k/s1600/maple-syrup-gradeB.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim8AY3bG4-eIlfaM4g_soMBkbilmheun2TzBGThblxi-5d1zUVNas7rrl2umHOVGvnBomeKBm1gtUizFfIPugM1Zt_anr3MugRI3mwYQTQI3y__D3rcuFBA_6MxBakRcnPeM01zOS92D-k/s320/maple-syrup-gradeB.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Maple syrup from early February (left) and the February heat wave (right). </i></td></tr>
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After the heat, temperatures settled back to more normal levels and freezing nights allowed sap flows to restart, after a bit of a hiatus. However, the flows haven't been very strong this month, and this week have almost stopped completely, so I suspect that the season is now basically over, several weeks before its typical conclusion. It was a good decision to get an early start! Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15192660491064861917noreply@blogger.com0