August doldrums

I haven't gotten out much this month, after the botanical frenzy that was Michigan.  Too many concerts, plays, ballgames, doctor appointments, etc.  It's just not possible to fit an entire summer into a ten-week summer vacation (first world problems, I know).  People who get bored on summer vacation and long to return to school have a crippling lack of imagination and adventure and should be slapped repeatedly.

First outing of note:  botany training session/extravaganza (still haven't come up with a good name) at Harms Woods, with stewards John & Jane Balaban, on August 4.  A long time ago, yes.  I was too ashamed to post anything about it, because I committed the botanical misdemeanor of forgetting my camera at home [hangs head in misery].  It was an especially egregious error in light of a delightful discovery I made--a species of grass never before seen at the site, black-seeded rice grass, Oryzopsis racemosa.  We found a grand total of two plants, on a morainal slope, in an area that had been burned recently.  It is surmised that the plants came from a seed mix donated by the Botanic Garden years ago, and were either overlooked all this time or have been chillin' in the seed bank.  It's a handsome grass, with glossy wide leaves and smooth, shiny black seeds (as you might guess from the name).  You'll have to take my word for it, as I have no photographic evidence.  UPDATE!  Jane sent me one of her photos of the Oryzopsis.  She apologizes for it not being of great quality, as she was in a rush.  I love the graceful arch of the inflorescence.  You can't see the black seeds, because you have to pull the glumes apart first:

Another new species for me was Samolus parviflorus, or water pimpernel.  It is very small and understated, and was tucked away along one of the ditches that crosses the site.  And so you don't get bored, here's a photo of it in the U of Michigan herbarium.  (Dream job alert!  Creating and maintaining a botanical photograph database.  Who are these people, and when are they going to retire?)

The outing was especially helpful for me because I got myself straightened out on how to identify some woodland grasses that have stumping me for reasons unknown....no, that's a lie.  They're not really unknown--I just have no patience for glumes and lemmas and the other infinitesimal parts of grasses and am too lazy to key them out, and have to have a real botanist show them to me in person.  So now, I can remember which rye is which, riverbank vs. virginia (they're really nothing alike, so that's kind of embarrassing); and I have learned Brachyeletrum erectum and Festuca obtusa, a couple of uncommon woodland grasses.  I also learned how to distinguish two of the agrimonies, which heretofore I just lazily called "one of those Agrimonias" and loftily told people that nobody really knew how to tell the difference between any of them.  That is also a lie, apparently.  A. gryposepala is the big coarse-looking one with big fruits and hairs sticking straight out from the stem, and A. pubescens is smaller, more delicate, with appressed hairs.  I am revealing myself as a big liar...hopefully my students will never find this out.  Approximately 20% of what I tell them is pulled out of my ass.

Yesterday was the second outing of note:  seedpicking at Somme Prairie Grove.  For as dormant as everything seems this year, we got a pretty good haul.  Woodland grasses in the savanna area--silky rye, bottlebrush, and woodland brome.  Here are photos of the latter two, not taken yesterday, but gotta keep y'alls entertained:

Then we headed out to the dry prairie and got huge bags of soft, fluffy purple prairie clover and leadplant seeds, and a respectable bag full of New Jersey tea seeds.  For the uninformed, NJT is a nice, short, native prairie shrub that enjoys camouflaging itself amongst resprouts of its evil cousin, common buckthorn, and making it difficult for heroic herbicide applicators to free it from said evil cousin's stranglehold.  I have no photos of my own of this species, but I'm going to borrow some from the U of Wisconsin herbarium and the USDA Plants Database to make my point and absolve me of my guilt for occasionally spraying this nice little shrub with Garlon:

 

This is New Jersey tea.  It's nice.

This is buckthorn.  It's not nice.  

Now, imagine neither plant has flowers or fruits, but just leaves.  Can you see how an innocent herbicide applicator might mistake one for the other, just based on the leaves?  Especially after wading through seas of them, interlaced with each other?  I just want the world to know that I'm sorry.  Tangent concluded.

The prairie, as mentioned, is still pretty dormant as far as flowers go.  It was not very inspiring, plant-wise.  I did, however, catch a couple of insects willing to sit still long enough for me to snap their portraits (identities tentative, as I am a poor entomologist):

 Yellow-legged meadowhawk, male, perching on a purple prairie clover seedhead

 

 My best guess is a sachem skipper, perched on a rattlesnake master seedhead from last year

So there is all that I have done in the first half of August.  Today is ugly and stormy, so I am homebound.  I could use suggestions for a day trip tomorrow.  There will be a botany outing at Somme Prairie Grove on Sunday, and I will not forget my camera this time.