Festival

Although I had never been to an official "Wildflower Festival" in the past, the idea intrigued me. The poster advertising the recent Mount Pisgah Arboretum Wildflower and Music Festival had the right words to lure me in: Music, Food, and Fun. Not to mention a beautiful warm sunny day, wildflower displays, artwork, and nature walks; what's not to like? Expert botanists were on hand to answer your plant questions along with microscopes and books. For the more casual festival goers, there were artworks created out of natural things only, many eco-vendor booths as well as food carts galore. And of course you could purchase native plants to take home. 

Pavilion Flower Displays

It's an intriguing way to celebrate native wildflower appreciation, education, and preservation - and hold a fundraiser in the process. The good folks at Mount Pisgah should know - they have been doing it for 38 years! We spent most of the day at the festival enjoying the vibe and taking a few walks around the arboretum and up to the top of Mt. Pisgah, where the views are expansive in all directions. 

Art in Nature Entry

In the larger sense, the festival affirms what many nature lovers already know: spending time enjoying nature is good for you and your health; it's good for society and it needs to be preserved. In this day and age of capitalism-crazed national leaders, this obvious human necessity seems at risk of fading away. The anti-science and anti-environment rhetoric emerging from the new D.C. arrivals is astonishing. One wonders if these odd people have any experience with nature or wilderness. Not to belabor the point, but I'll just leave it at this for now: be vigilant, stay informed, and speak out for nature. There are still many in D.C. who will support us, but they need to hear from us and be encouraged to take action to protect what we have and educate the uninformed. 

The festival appeared to be a huge success, at least by the numbers attending and the "miles of smiles" seen. Hundreds attended, seemingly from all walks of life ages. We were impressed by the well organized feel of the event and the army of eager volunteers working the beat. All in all, a day well spent for us!

On the trail to to the summit we saw hundreds of Toughleaf Iris, a few dozen Blue Dicks, and a smattering of Meadow Checker mallow and Oregon Checker mallow. Among the oaks we also saw poison oak growing profusely! 

Oregon Checker mallow (Sidalcea campestris) and Meadow Checker mallow (Sidalcea oregana):

 

Toughleaf Iris (Iris tenax) and Nine-leaf Lomatium (Lomatium triternatum):

 

Tolmie's Pussy Ears (Calochortus tolmiei) and Blue Dicks (Dichelostemma capitatum)

 

Orange Honeysuckle (Lonicera ciliosa) and Slender Tarweed (Madia gracilis), with 

Purple Sanicle (Sanicula bipinnatifida)

   

Links:

Mt. Pisgah Arboretum

Native Plant Society of Oregon

Oregon Nature Conservancy

Life and Death

Imagine living in the unspoiled Pacific Northwest before the European Americans arrived; before there were roads and cities along the rivers. The views, sounds, and natural state of the area was vastly different. And imagine you are a Nez Perce native American in the year 1800. You would be living in one of about 100 villages throughout the Northwest, many along the Snake, Salmon, and Clearwater rivers. Your life would be structured around seasonal encampments to take advantage of important food sources: salmon, berries, nuts, and camas bulbs.

No need to expound on the delights of eating salmon - most of us continue to enjoy this wonderful staple of river living to this day. The Nez Perce knew the best spots for spearing the salmon and learned to smoke and preserve it as well. Thankfully, today, we don't have to reel in our own fish when we feel like having a salmon dinner, but many still choose to do so.

But what about those camas bulbs? You probably don't have a bag of them in your pantry. The Nez Perce and others relied on baked camas bulbs as a regular staple, similar to our potato of today. In the 1800's there were thousands of acres of the camas plants growing throughout the region. According to historians, the bulbs were gathered in late summer and then baked in home built ovens that resembled a giant clay pot. Their natural flavor is rather bland, so usually the bulbs were mixed with salmon oil or berries for flavoring.

Camas and salmon were so important to these native people that many landmarks and places have been named after them. There is a city in Washington named Camas, and of course there are several rivers in the Northwest with the Salmon name.

The Common Camas (Camassia quamash) blooms in mid-spring in damp meadows at low elevation areas, west of the Cascades. It is quite a sight to see a whole field of blooming camas, with their intense blue blossoms. The Great Camas (Camassia leichtlinii) is very similar, but larger and sports more flowers than the common one.

In 1805, the Lewis and Clark explorers met the Nez Perce, who basically helped the explorers avoid starvation at that point in their journey. One of their journals talks about how the native tribe gave them camas to eat. Unfortunately, the bulbs are hard to digest, making life a bit worse for the undernourished explorers. Eventually though the explorers were able to tolerate the bulbs and moved on.

More locally, our Tualatin tribe was known to gather camas bulbs at Graham Oaks Nature Park near Wilsonville. These camas plants are still abundant in areas of the park.

One thing Nez Perce children must have learned at an early age, was to avoid what we now call the Meadow Death Camas (Zigadenus venenosus). This plant also produces a bulb, but is highly toxic and as the name suggests can be fatal. In fact, all parts of the plant are toxic. The flowers look nothing like Common Camas, but the plants grow in the same general conditions. At bulb harvesting time, the adult Nez Perce knew what to look out for and did not gather the toxic bulbs. Botanically speaking, the common and death camas plants are not related at all, but the common name creates this illusion.

Meadow Death Camas flowering in the Columbia River Gorge:

     

There is a wealth of historical articles about the Nez Perce and other Northwest native peoples on the internet. These native Americans knew the land and flora quite well and many of their learnings are still relevant in today's botanical science.

Skunked?

With a name like "Skunk Cabbage," one has to wonder how this Northwest native plant impressed early explorers like Lewis and Clark and David Douglas. Our local Native Americans were very familiar with it and at some point in the early 1900's it was exported to the U.K. where they actually cultivated the rogue cabbage! If our original residents knew about the vile smelling plant traveling across the ocean for aristocrat gardeners, they would probably be laughing their heads off.

      

Western Skunk Cabbage (Lysichiton americanus) is neither a cabbage nor is it suitable for a salad. But, as any local  grade school child can tell you, it is easy to identify and it does have a pungent odor. Hikers who venture out on a trail in a boggy area, are probably going to see Skunk Cabbage, with its giant leaves that look almost tropical. The exotic tall yellow "flowers" have an alien look compared to most other Northwest wildflowers. These big, bright yellow shoots resemble old time candle lamps; the plants are also called Swamp Lantern.

In fact, the plant's real flowers resemble tiny popcorn kernels and cover the spadix, the candle-like spire in the center of the big 6-8 inch yellow spathe that resembles a large spoon. When an entire colony of Skunk Cabbage is blooming, the yellow spathes make for quite the show! Of course the bloom also releases that namesake odor, making a show of another kind!

Tiny white flowers

As a member of the Araceae family, the musty, skunk-like odor does have a purpose: it keeps certain large animals away (such as deer and elk) and it attracts pollinators, who apparently relish the low brow smell. Here in western Oregon, they are in bloom now.

In the Eastern U.S., a similar but different and equally fascinating Eastern Skunk Cabbage (Symplocarpus foetidus) also grows in boggy areas and has a pungent odor when its purple-green flowers emerge from the ground in early spring. Only the flowers are visible at first, during the bloom. Later, the leaves emerge as the flowers die off. This oddball plant has Thermogenesis on its resume. Meaning, the plant can actually generate heat. It is thought that this helps get the tough flowers through the cold ground when emerging, as well as aiding in the odor spreading, once it blooms. The heat is generated by a process called "cellular respiration," a complex topic worthy of study for the serious botanist! Follow this link for a taste.

Eastern Skunk Cabbage. Photo courtesy Wikipedia*

Both the western and eastern versions of this cabbage were used by native peoples extensively. However, parts of each plant are highly toxic, so don't get skunked by the lore of beneficial properties. As always, we here at Wildflower Blog Central remind our readers to leave any plant where it is and take only photos!



*Photo: By Sue Sweeney. - The Monday Garden & Wikipedia.

Restless Native

This time of year, I am sometimes asked "what's the first wildflower to bloom around here?" In a way it is a bit of a trick question because the answer is variable, depending on where you live and at what elevation. Here in western Oregon, if you are in the valley, in a forest, and not near the ocean, the correct answer is probably the strikingly attractive Western Trillium (Trillium ovatum). This year we spotted them blooming on March 19th in the Jenkins Estate forest. The date seems to fall in line with the past four years we have posted on this blog, in spite of weather conditions.

Western Trillium with Sword Fern

In temperate regions of North America there are about 40 species of native trillium. Because they bloom in early spring, roughly at the same time as the American Robin appears, they are also called "wake-robin." Some species are endangered and in Oregon, Michigan, and Minnesota it is illegal to pick or otherwise destroy a native trillium. This is due to the fragile nature of the plant and its inability to reproduce once it has been disturbed. And as recently as 2013, a new species of yellow trillium was discovered and classified in eastern Tennessee, now called Trillium tennesseense.

Older bloom turning pinkish.

And speaking of reproduction, trillium are rhizome-based plants that spread underground given the right conditions (damp loose soil, forest floor, plenty of shade). Also, their seeds are captured and transported by hungry ants, back to the nest. Here the seed cover is eaten by ants and larvae, with the seeds left in the ground. Some will sprout, creating a new plant. The new plant can take up to a year to emerge from the soil. It is interesting to note that several other forest floor native plants spread by the ant transport method as well, including wild ginger, pacific bleeding hearts, and the curious inside-out flower.

Trillium Cluster

After pollination, some Trillium ovatum flower petals will change from white to pinkish-purple. The change in color is probably due to the plant producing anthrocyanins when stressed from cold, drought, or age. This color change (shown below) should not be confused with the Purple Trillium (Trillium erectum) species that blooms a dark purple flower and grows in the Northeastern U.S.

Aging Trillium ovatum coloration

To get more immersed in the trillium moment, plan a visit to the 37th annual Trillium Festival at Tryon Creek State Natural Area on April 1st and 2nd. Expand your backyard habitat by purchasing native plants at the festival as well.

Earplugs Anyone?

Crocus

Is it just me, or have you also noticed how just about every store you go to now has some kind of music playing - and usually the kind you don't much care for? We stopped in for lunch at Subway the other day and had to endure a loud pop music onslaught before getting our subs. Later at the Fred Meyer grocery store, it was country music, as if we had been magically transformed to the Pendleton Roundup. I stopped by Safeway to pick up some grits and the vocals once again interrupted my thoughts. I could go on listing others, but the question begs, "Why Music?" 

Daphne

My theory is that some expensive marketing study (no doubt sponsored by music supplier companies) has revealed that shoppers, especially younger ones, spend an extra minute or two in a store with music vs. no music. A short Internet search indeed reveals many articles that support my hunch. But most of them indicate that it's tricky - mainly because if your shoppers can't stand the particular type of music, it has a negative effect. Ah, the joys of capitalism. Don't get me wrong, I am fond of many types of music and do listen most days to something - I just don't like it to intrude into every aspect of my life, such as when I'm deciding what kind of cat litter to buy.

I complained to Kroger in an email and they replied with a carefully worded "sorry, but we won't budge on this one" message. After all, shouldn't shopping be as meaningful as your other important life events?! Well for me, this unending, audio overdose has the effect of making me want to get in and get out, as quickly as possible; or totally avoid going to a business. But I digress...

Primrose

Here in western Oregon we don't get snow and ice every winter; and I am truly thankful for that. This winter was different. We had multiple snow/ice events and now in late winter/early spring, the rains are setting records. On a positive note, it appears our frozen precipitation events are over. It will be interesting to see how this wettest-ever February and March affect the wildflowers and bloom calendar. 

And, of course, in our neck of the woods, the end of winter is noted by the arrival of Pacific Tree frogs, singing at night; and the silent but prolific Boxelder Bugs (Boisea trivittata) crawling out of their nooks around the outside of our house.

Camellia japonica

The crocus, daffodils, and the other non-native plants you see in the post are blooming so we'll be getting ready for our first wildflower trip soon. That will no doubt include mud boots, the weather-proof cameras, and plenty of hot coffee.

Boxelder bugs

The Annual Moss Edition - 2017

If you are a new reader of this blog you may wonder why we have a yearly post about moss. After all, some folks cringe at the sight of moss, especially when it seems to take over your roof, driveway, and lawn. But moss has many useful properties as well and is almost an art form in natural settings. Here in the Northwest, moss thrives in our mild, wet winter climate and western Oregon forests provide a perfect platform for moss. Historically, Native Americans used moss for insulation and to clean salmon among other things.

To lend a bit of perspective, there are over 12,000 species of moss in the plant division Bryophyta. They do not have flowers or seeds, which makes them a bit of an odd couple for a wildflower blog. On the other hand, the natural beauty of moss and lack of any other flower blooms in mid-February brings us back to why we have this annual post. Of course, moss grows all year, but in this neck of the woods, it always seems to be at its prime right now.


Last year's Moss Issue covered the current day use of moss as a bio-indicator. Several news outlets reported that toxic airborne chemicals were found in Portland, initially by its effects on moss. See that post for more details. This year, we'll "focus" a bit on the artistic side of moss as practiced in traditional Japanese gardens.

Traditional Japanese gardens almost always include some type of moss usage. The moss is meant to pay tribute to the natural world, in a stylized and artistic manner. Although the first use of moss for aesthetic purposes is not known, Japanese gardens have been documented as early as 710 AD in Nara, Japan. The overall design of any authentic Japanese Garden is influenced by Buddhist, Shinto, and Taoist philosophies in an effort to bring a a sense of peace, harmony, and tranquility. Here in our area, the Portland Japanese Garden is notable for its design of five distinct areas. Several of those have a wealth of moss, covering nearly every open space that is not planted.

On a recent visit to the garden, we observed the use of moss as a visual ground cover. Here are few views of the garden:

     

     

This year's gallery of moss in natural places has been gleaned from local nature walks in our area, including Noble Woods park, Cooper Mountain Nature park, Tualatin Hills Nature park, Henry Hagg lake, and our back yard. Our botanical knowledge is limited in the moss world, so these fine subjects in the photos will remain anonymous!

     

     

     

     

    

And last, but not least, when you are out for a walk in the park, it always pays to look for details, high and low. We recently found this tiny barn scene near ground level in an oak tree at Noble Woods park.

Links:

2016 Annual Moss Issue

Living with Mosses - OSU website

Portland Japanese Garden