What I’ve Learned: I need patience and I don’t have the right shoes

What I’ve Learned: I need patience and I don’t have the right shoes

Image: By Gmihail at Serbian Wikipedia (Own work) 
[CC BY-SA 3.0 rs (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/rs/deed.en) 
or GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)], via Wikimedia Commons

I volunteer at the botanic garden Tuesday mornings. The display of yellow Viola on the undeveloped portion of the hills was wonderful this year and it occurred to me that there would be lots of seeds. I would really like to have the propagation crew at the garden try to grow some of these as I think they would make a nice addition to our gardens. Granted they disappear in the heat of the summer but they could make a nice groundcover under some of our shrubs and need no water in the dry time. So I approached Eve. Eve is the person who started the garden as an extension of her senior project at Cal Poly. She was receptive to the idea. I asked if I could take a bit more for other uses. Again the answer was yes and extended to some of the other plants on the hills. So when I thought the seeds might be ready I ventured out.

These are hills that are brown in the summer. They are covered with oats and ripgut and some other not so nice plants. But there are patches of Viola and Sidalcea and Sisyrhincium. So I had a goal of collecting all three. Finding those patches was not always easy. The plants disappear into the dried grasses. But I could find some. And in my wandering looking for patches I was excited to discover that not only are there the invasive sorts of grasses but there was lots of Stipa pulcra, some Melica californica, Melica imperfecta (or at least a different kind of Melica), Elymus triticoides (I think), Elymus condensatus, Hordeum bracyantherum and the most exciting find, for me, was some Danthonia californica. I am not collecting seeds of those grasses because they are not represented in great numbers and I want all the seed that’s there to possibly increase populations. But I am collecting the seeds of the Viola, Sidalcea, and hopefully the Sisyrhincum.

However,  patience is a requirement. Finding the patches of Viola was not nearly as challenging as finding the seeds ready to gather. I am honing my observational skills and getting up close and personal with the plants. I was looking for black, ripe seeds so black drew my attention.  Often the black was a little beetle that I saw only on violets.  Is this a good bug or a bad bug? I have no idea. But if it is providing food for the birds in my book it’s a good bug. Perhaps it’s one of those specialist bugs that only use one plant. Questions. Down on my knees I can see the developing seed capsules and I have observed that as they ripen they lift and point to the sky. Once ripe, the capsules pop open. Sometimes a few seeds remain in the opened capsule. Whether these are defective or not I don’t know but I have collected them. At least they are black. Picking a few capsules early results in green seeds. I have picked a few, unopened but upturned, which have resulted in the sound of popping seeds in the paper bags at home. I have gotten some black seeds out of these. My favorite find is to see the open capsule, still green, and filled with black seeds. Treasure!  But it has taken weeks of venturing up on the hill to get a few tablespoons of seeds. Some of these will find their way to the seed exchange.

The Sidalcea is another story. I found that many of the flowers did not develop into seeds, but in some areas there were more that developed than others. Does this reflect the presence of more pollinators in some areas than others? In some areas the stalks were half gone. Are they browse for deer?  More observations lead to more questions. But I did collect a few seeds that seemed to be ripe. The capsules on these plants seemed to dry with the seeds remaining in the capsule. But as they dried they would separate a bit and I found that if I just brushed my fingers across a capsule seeds would fall into my hand. I found capsules with just a few seeds remaining so assumed these were ripe. I don’t have many seeds of these but after sharing with the botanic garden a few will end up at the seed exchange. You should want these. I have a Sidalcea grown from seed that has been blooming for several months in my garden. I think it’s beautiful.

As for the Sisyrhincium, I don’t have seeds yet and am not sure that I will. Those patches, which were so obvious and seemed so huge when they were covered with their blue-purple blossoms, are very hard to find when there is no flower to beckon. Those that I have found are not yet ripe. The capsules are still green and I don’t know if I will have any luck finding ripe seeds. But I am going to try.

What about not having the right shoes? The shoes I wear at the botanic garden are really old worn out hiking shoes with that open mesh sort of fabric for breathability. They are really great grass seed collectors. Those seeds penetrate through the open mesh and through my smart wool socks and into my skin. Almost intolerable. Before I drive home I have to remove my shoes and get rid of those seeds. I am pleased to find that they collect Stipa seeds too which means that there are plenty of Stipa seeds to be had. But I am very conscious of the fact that I don’t want to be transferring these seeds to the trails so they are no longer used for hiking.

Reminder: Seed exchange before the October meeting.

-Marti Rutherford

California’s Fall Colors

As one drives around in September, brilliant yellows, cheerful whites, subtle pinks, and even chartreuse greet us from bushes and roadsides. Except for the bright red leaves on Poison Oak, Toxicodendron diversilobium, few of our lower elevation natives have the brilliant red, orange, and yellow leaves that festoon mountains and eastern areas, yet many of our fall flowers and leaves have their own unique if subtle charm. This is when our fall-blooming DYC’s come into their own.

Even the lowly Coyote Brush, Baccharis pilularis, one of the few dioecious, shrubby, non-showy composites that I know of, has its “Fifteen minutes (or 1-2 months) of fame.” The subtle yellow staminate flowers of the male plant, aka “Mr. Fuzzy-Wuzzy,” shine with pride, and are quite fragrant, especially in bright sunshine.

The white, powder-puff plumes and smaller blossoms of the female plants, aka “Mrs. Fuzzy-Wuzzy,” greet those who have the eyes to see them. This is indeed the season of yellow flowers. Prominent are the “diaspora” members of the Haplopappus genus, i.e., the various Golden Bushes, Hazardia, Ericameria, and Isocoma spp. The Mock Heather, Ericameria ericoides, looks as if its tops were spray painted. The tarweeds, Hemizonia, Centromadia, Deinandra, and Madia spp., Rabbit Brushes, Ericameria and Chrysothamnus spp., Goldenrods, Solidago spp., and Telegraph Weed, Heterotheca grandifolia, also greet the viewer.

White is represented by both flowers and plumes. Various Lessingia spp. bloom in the fall including one appearing late enough to be known as the “Christmas Daisy.” A few late-blooming Buckwheats, Eriogonum spp., Morning Glories, Calystegia spp., and Mexican Elderberries, Sambucus mexicana, are evident. The Dandelion-like plumes of the composites, the pheasant feather-like plumes of the Western Mountain Mahogany, Cercocarpus betuloides, and the fluffy plumes of the Cottonwoods, Populus spp., also liven the fall vegetation.

Pink is seen in the Twiggy and other Wreath Plants, Stephanomeria spp., maturing Buckwheats, Eriogonum spp., and the ubiquitous Naked Ladies, Amaryllis belladonna. But chartreuse?  This is found in the rare but, in places, locally abundant Seaside Birdsbeak, Cordylanthus rigidus ssp. littoralis. A spectacular display can be seen on State Route 1 between Vandenberg Village and Allan Hancock College, where Deer Creek crosses the highway. Ah yes, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

As plant lovers we should not only see our subtle fall beauty, but should be sharing this vision with others. Check Field Trips for our mid-October Burton Mesa Chaparral tour at the La Purisima Mission.

— Charlie Blair

Senegalia greggii

Senegalia greggii

Senegalia greggii “Acacia greggii thorns” by Stan Shebs. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Commons. formerly Acacia greggii Senegalia greggii, a dicot, is a shrub that is native to California and is found in western North America. View on Calflora...

Planting Natives

Last month’s topic on planting California natives to provide habitat for bees was well received. Continuing on that same theme is this month’s topic: native plants that provide nectar for hummingbirds.

Humming-birds such as Anna’s (Calypte anna) live year-round on the Central Coast. They need lots of nectar to buzz around. Here are some of my favorite shrubs that are a
hummingbird’s best friend: manzanita (Arctostaphylos species), twinberry (Lonicera involucrata), fuchsia-flowered gooseberry (Ribes speciosum) and last, pitcher sage (Lepechinia calycina).

Check your yard for placing your shrubs in the right location. Most require good drainage and full sun. Many California native perennials have flowers that can provide large amounts of nectar. Some of my best picks are, penstemon (Penstemon species), Zauschneria (Epilobium canum), hummingbird sage (Salvia spathacea) and sticky monkeyflower (Mimulus aurantiacus), its old name.

So with winter rains on the way, the timing is right to set new plants in your garden. Keeping this in mind I would like to encourage you to remember the little hummingbird.

Good luck and happy gardening.

– John N.

Silene laciniata

Coastal catchfly

Late summer or early fall (or more appropriately “late dry season”) is a downtime in our local wilds, especially true when we’ve had no significant rain after December. Even the animals seem to be resting. But if one looks carefully in our coastal dune scrub, one may just see a FEW bright red flowers commonly called Indian Pink around here. Indian Pink is also the name in RF Hoover’s book Vascular Plants of San Luis Obispo County. I found a better common name on the internet, Cardinal Catchfly. Either way it’s Silene laciniata.

Since it has very weak stems, Silene laciniata has the habit of using other plants for support. Look for it growing out of the canopies of relatively short plants. Our chapter area is near the northern extent of this species range; it can be found on our coastal dunes and further inland on serpentine outcrops. Its usually hidden, paired leaves are broadly joined at their bases and appear, at first glance, to be quite grass-like. But no grass has opposite leaves and a close examination of the leaf blades will show a single, larger midrib.

Coastal catchfly (Silene laciniata)

Coastal catchfly (Silene laciniata)

An examination of Bonnie’s drawing shows what appear to be the five fused petals at the end of a long tube. The tube is formed by the fused sepals (calyx). The petals are actually separate. If one were to slit down the side of the calyx tube, the five separate petals would simply fall away from each other.

Each petal consists of two quite distinct regions. The showy part is bright red and is called by botanists “the blade.” Each thin basal portion, called “the claw” by botanists, is the length of the tube and basally attaches separately to the receptacle below the ovary. The sepals and stamens also attach to the receptacle. So, in spite of casual appearance, the ovary is superior.

The local common name, Indian Pink, I believe to be the less desirable today because of the use of “Indian.” The name, Indian, often indicates that the plant in question was used in some way by the native North American peoples. I didn’t find any reference to their use of this species either on line or in my library. I’m guessing that the use of the word, “Indian,” here simply refers to it being native to California.

The second name, Pink, refers to a common trait in its family, Caryophyllaceae, or pink family. Pink, in this case, does not refer to the flower’s color, which is bright red, but to the fringed petals. That is, it refers to the tailors’ practice of cutting the edge of unsewn fabric with pinking shears to leave it toothed to prevent it from unraveling. Now Cardinal Catchfly is a much better name.

First, the flowers are bright red like the plumage of a cardinal. The term, catchfly, refers to a common trait found in many flowers that produce many special trichomes (hairs) on their sepals. These individual trichomes resemble the colored pins often used to stick into maps; they have short shafts and large round heads. When mature, these “heads” break down into an acrid, terrible tasting glob that is sticky enough to ensnare small insects such as flies and bees.

Why would this be an advantage to the flower? Many flower visiting insects, when prevented from entering the flower the correct way will attempt to steal nectar by biting a hole through the base of the flower or calyx. This is pure thievery as the insect gets the costly nectar without pollinating the flower.

How might a Cardinal Catchfly be pollinated? First thing we need to do is note that the only possible (legal) entrance to the deep, relatively narrow floral tube (where the nectar is produced at its base) is via a very tiny hole through which the style and stamen filaments emerge. So a pollinator would have to be either small enough to enter the hole (not likely) or have a very long, thin proboscis or tongue. That eliminates essentially all flies, bees and beetles, which have short chewing mouth parts.

That leaves three common long-proboscis pollinators – butterflies, moths and hummingbirds. Butterflies usually require flowers that provide a landing platform. The Cardinal Catchfly is orientated so that the showy parts (blades) of the petals are vertical, which does not provide a landing platform for butterflies. Cardinal Catchfly blooms during the day so that should eliminate most moths.

Further, I haven’t noticed any pronounced floral odors produced by this flower. A day-flying pollinator that hovers in front of the flower, possesses a long, thin beak (and tongue), and with keen eyesight in the red portion of the spectrum would be a humming bird. In addition, birds tend to have little sense of smell. It’s a conclusion that could have been gotten easily from the internet, but not nearly as fun.

by Dirk Walters, illustrations by Bonnie Walters | Dirk and Bonnie Walters are long-time CNPS-SLO members, contributors, and board/committee participants. In addition to his work at Cal Poly, Dirk is the current CNPS-SLO Historian.

Growing Natives

CNPS-SLO encourages the use of California Native plants in public and private gardens and landscapes, and offers information about how to plan, start, and maintain native plant gardens and landscapes that are both ecologically beneficial and personally enjoyable....