Friday, 25 November 2016

Galls as an alternative idea?

I've probably got enough weird interests, but yesterday I think I came up with another one. I was on a fieldtrip to an ancient woodland. Some of you might be going on the trip today. As we squelched and slipped through the mud, I kept seeing what I blithely assumed were tiny crab apples amongst the leaf litter. I was set on collecting lichens and tree buds, so I didn't pay them much attention. But finally I picked one up, only to find it was attached to the bottom of an oak leaf, along with a couple of others:


They weren't apples at all, but galls. How mad are they? I think pretty mad. It turns out they are called 'cherry galls' (only because they look a bit like cherries). You find them only on oak leaves - they are attached to the veins on the underside of the leaf. Here's the instigator, a tiny wasp (about 5 mm long).
CC image by Wofl
As the female lays an egg she injects the leaf with chemicals that induce the tree to grow a gall. Then the little grub lives cosily in the gall and waits until spring to pupate. It's actually even weirder than this - the wasp species has two generations each year, one asexual and one fertilised. I'm a bit unclear on the mechanics of this, but I think when the wasps (both sexes?) emerge in spring from the galls, the females lay unfertilised eggs on the tree trunk. These become protected by another sort of gall (which is small and purple). When those wasps hatch, the sexes mate and eggs are laid to produce the cherry galls.

Anyway. I recall that galls have been a 'taxonomic collection' in the past. Not that they're found on any confined group of plants, and are in fact produced by flies, wasps, aphids, sawflies... many different creatures. So if you're interested it might be worth a discussion with Katy. In any case, I think I might be keeping a closer look-out for them in future, purely out of interest.

Can you believe it, there's a British Plant Gall Society.  Britain's great isn't it.
Also I might buy myself one of these FSC Aidgap guides to galls or maybe the Wildguide. (Oh well, just bought both. Call it an early christmas present. To myself).

Monday, 21 November 2016

Some trees to find with opposite buds

If I don't get my daily dose of sunlight at this time of year I start losing the will to live. So I went out for a walk on Sunday morning and combined it with some twig collecting - I was pleased by the number it was possible to find in a short period of time. Granted I do live in the countryside, so the ones I found were all British species and legitimate for your collection. I urge that if you're a beginner you start somewhere you'll find native species - hedgerows and woods. If you start in a park or garden, you'll immediately confuse yourself with exotic and cultivated plants that won't be in the book. And then you'll feel unnecessarily despondent.

There are still some leaves clinging onto the trees at the moment, and obviously these provide great confirmation of the species. But you will find that some common trees have very distinctive buds.

Aesculus hippocastanum (Horse chestnut)
You may recognise this from your childhood conker-collecting: the Horse chestnut (Aesculus hipposcastanum). It's more 'naturalised' than native, having only been brought to Britain in the last 500 years, but it will be fine in your collection. The buds are huge and very sticky and pretty unmistakable. They can be so sticky, they'll make a mess of your bag and your coat and everything they come into contact with. But less sticky when its cold perhaps. Perhaps the resin puts things off from nibbling them.

Horse chestnut belongs to the Order Sapindales and the Family Sapindaceae, so of the other trees in the British countryside, it's most closely related to the Field maple (Acer campestre) and the Sycamore (Acer pseudoplatanus). Hint: you could put those next to it in your collection.

Sycamore (top) and Field maple (below)

You'll notice all three species have buds which are opposite each other. This is less common than species with the buds sprouting alternately or spirally up the stem. Sycamore buds are noticeably green, and field maple buds are a bit fluffy at the edges.

Another really obvious one you'll soon learn is Ash (Fraxinus excelsor) with its black buds. They remind me of little pointy hooves... devilish little black hooves. But even without such imagination you can't mistake them - they're the only ones this distinctive colour.

Ash (Fraxinus excelsor)

Ash is another species with opposite buds. But it belongs to a completely different Family, and indeed a completely different Order: the Oleaceae in the Lamiales. There are related plants that might be found growing in Britain (olive, jasmine, lilac, privet) but none are native trees.

I found four more opposite-budded species:

click the photo to admire the twigs in close-up (and check out the lenticels)

You'll notice that their colours are quite different. If you decide on this group for your collection, I think it'll really open your eyes to the variation of the plants around you. At the moment it's probably quite easy to think 'oh, trees... I know what a tree looks like', but you might end up wondering if you'd had your eyes closed.

There's Dogwood (Cornus sanguinea - sanguinea = blood) at the top, with red stems that really show up on these dark days, and weird long fingery (antlery?) buds.

Next is Guelder-rose (Viburnum opulus) with rather bulbous shiny buds, and an angled stem. You are bound to see its bright red berries at the moment too.

Third down is one of my favourites, Spindle (Euonymus europaeus) with its distinctive green stem. It has the weirdest fruits which are a clashing pink coating around four bright orange seeds.

At the bottom is Elder (Sambucus nigra) which has scruffy tiny leaves instead of scaled buds. The twig has lots of lenticels. In the days when children left the house and before they became inextricably glued to smartphones, they would annoy people by hollowing out these stems and making peashooters. You might recognise its Latin name: today's Sambuca isn't made from elderberries, but there was obviously a liqueur that once was.

Elder and Guelder-rose are both in the family Adoxaceae (curiously, like the lovely ancient woodland indicator Moschatel) but Dogwood and Spindle are both quite unrelated to anything else you'd find in Britain (including each other).

So that's eight species already. I've got as many specimens again, but they have alternate buds. I'll do those in a different post.


Monday, 14 November 2016

Encouragement for fern collectors

Yesterday (probably due to global warming eh) was a beautiful Sunday, with autumnal colours everywhere and blue skies and that lovely low-angled sunshine that makes everything all contrasty and dramatic. So, in combination with enjoying a country walk with my other half, I thought I'd have a look for some ferns in solidarity with the fellow pteridologists among you.

This was successful, so I offer my encouragement if you choose this group.

I live in North Wiltshire, in an area once famous for its limestone quarries. So the roads and fields are lined with walls made of limestone. Some ferns are very happy living on these. Here we have Maidenhair spleenwort, Asplenium trichomanes. It's only small and it grows in tufts on the wall or (as in this case) from the mortar between the stones of the wall.

Maidenhair spleenwort
Very close by was Wall rue, Asplenium ruta-muraria (below). It doesn't look so obviously 'ferny' as the Maidenhair spleenwort. But if you've found the latter, it's worth looking for this one too. To confirm it's a fern, look at the sori on the back of the leaves:

Wall rue
I knew both of those were around locally from fern-forays last year. But on another wall nearby I was delighted to find the Rusty-back fern, Asplenium ceterach. I've never knowingly found that one, so was genuinely nerdily delighted. It's got a lovely uneven look about it, and on the back the sori have a dense covering of scales. You can see that in the young leaves the scales are rather silvery, and in the older bigger leaves they're rust brown (hence the name).

Rusty-back fern
There is a strange 'alleyway' of two low drystone walls that you have to go down to enter the wood where we were headed. It seems to be the ideal microclimate for mosses - I've gathered many different ones there in the past, and picked up a few this time that I'll show you in another post. It also seemed good for another type of fern - a type of Polypodium.

Western polypody

I think it's Polypodium interjectum, Western polypody. That's because (unlike Common polypody), it has pointed tips to its pinnae and (unlike Southern polypody) it doesn't seem to have any hairlike structures growing amidst the sporangia. You can also find hybrids of the three, but I think the lovely bold and plump sori suggest otherwise (the hybrids are usually sterile).

Within the wood itself I came across this plant, which as you can see was far too large to fit on the photocopier. That's one thing you'll have to find a solution for when you're pressing your specimens - you'll need a bit of space, and preferably you don't want to fold them over like this!

Soft shield fern

You can see it's got beautiful reddish-brown scales at the base of the stem - it's important that you pick the frond all the way down to these when you're collecting samples.

Here's a close-up of the pinnules and sori:

Soft shield fern

If you look closely (you'll find a hand lens useful for your own identifications) you can see that the pinnules of this plant generally have a kind of mitteny, thumbed outline. Their lobes are rather pointed, with little hair points at their tip. Combined with the roundness (as opposed to a kidney-shapedness) of the covers of the sori (or 'indusia') - we know that this is a shield fern.

I've been through this wood botanising before, and I've collected both the Hard shield fern (Polystichum aculeatum) and the Soft shield fern (Polystichum setiferum) here. This has turned out to be useful, because I know P. aculeatum lives up to its name and is really quite stiff, the hair points being rather prickly. But this specimen is not like that at all, and is instead the Soft shield fern, P. setiferum. I think you'll find yourself in the same position after a while, able to make comparisons when you've found and examined a few species which (when you first look at the key) look confusing and impossible.

I also spotted some fairly miserable specimens of Bracken (Pteridium aquilinum) on the way to the wood. It's very distinctive with its large size and tripinnate structure.

Another species which is unmistakable is the Hart's tongue fern (Asplenium scolopendrium). It is everywhere in the wood at the moment, forming big exuberant green clumps of foliage. You'd be tripping over them. The sori are linear (and usually a bit clearer than on my photo).

Hart's-tongue fern
So that's seven species just from a morning's work/walk. I know there are Male ferns and Hard shield ferns close by too. So that makes nine. Hard fern is another common species but I'd need to travel elsewhere to find that one - it prefers acidic conditions. Ten species would make a very respectable start. Depending on where you can travel to, you might also be able to find Sea spleenwort (by the sea, unsurprisingly), Black spleenwort, Brittle bladder fern, Lady fern, Lemon scented fern, Broad buckler fern, Narrow buckler fern... plus others. 

The 3rd edition of Merryweather's guide is currently at a sale price of £6.50 from the FSC - a bargain.

Tuesday, 1 November 2016

A reminder about fungi

Whilst out on my botanical jaunt, I also came across a few mushrooms. They were on a rough patch of grass which had somehow escaped being mown to oblivion. They had also escaped the Mushroom Kickers, probably because they were small and relatively invisible. Yes, the world can be divided into two groups of people, the Mushroom Pickers and the Mushroom Kickers. I don't really understand the mentality of the latter. Perhaps they go round kicking kittens as well.

These were the ones I found:


To be honest they are not the easiest to identify. In fact they are often collectively known as LBMs (Little Brown Mushrooms) and sometimes you have to admit defeat. But this belies their niceness. In fact you can see that they're actually all quite different. It's all about looking carefully at their shape and colour - the shape of the cap, the shape of the gills, the wavyness or sturdiness of the stipe (the mushroom 'stem'). This still doesn't make them Easy. But it might enable you to get to the right family.

Their habitat is also a useful clue. These were all amongst shortish grass - that in itself discounts many of the similar species you see in the identification books. In fact I think there's a definite gap in the market for a beginners' book with common species arranged by habitat. I have one that's almost there, but it's obsessed with edible mushrooms and gives delicate inedibles short shrift.

The most important thing I want to impart is that it's important to try and identify them as soon as possible. So you don't need to take home too many at a time - just a few is good. Then when you've had a go at identifying them (including writing all their features down in your field notebook so you remember them if you give up in desperation) - please bring them in to me and put them in the freezer in the field centre. Then I will freeze dry them for you and they will be reasonably beautifully preserved. If you can't get into college straight away then the fridge will do temporarily (in a plastic box, preferably, but don't get them mixed up with your lunch. That would be a shame as some of them are poisonous).

Fungi season is upon us so get out there into the woods and meadows and have a search.

The lovely Amanita muscaria. We found lots of these at Colehayes a few weeks ago. CC image by taras-fedora-syn
I've found a good website about UK fungi = First Nature.
It's not so easy flicking through a website as it is a book. But there's so much effort been put into writing about each species here, and there are good photos (of the whole fungus / gills or pores, and spores). It won't have everything but it's definitely somewhere to look when you've a hunch about your specimen's identity. It's made me wonder whether I've got Conocybe tenera amongst my finds.

Remember that with fungi, where you find them and how they're growing are important clues to identification. You can note their 'habit of growth' (that is, are they growing singly or in troops - (troops, excellent description), in tufts or overlapping, or in fairy rings) and whether they have any 'relationship with higher plants' (mycorrhizal species can only develop in conjunction with one or a few species of trees). All grist for your field notebook.


Autumn Asteraceae

Yesterday, trying to make the most of the autumn sunshine, I took a stroll around campus to see what was about. It's not the most promising of environments what with all the tarmac and vigorously manicured greenery. You will be able to search in much more promising locations. However, I found a few things, and I thought it might encourage you. A number of species are quite happy on wasteground and tucked into the margins.

I am quite sure I looked a bit odd, as I was adopting the slow hesitant gait of the naturalist, with my eyes scanning the ground, stopping randomly now and again to swoop on something and stuff it in a pot or plastic bag. I tried to pretend passers by weren't there. A colleague spotted me and evidently thought I looked quite amusing. But you must learn to ignore the rest of the world because they don't really understand. You will soon learn that you get a little pulse of endorphins to the brain when you find something, and this starts to outweigh any embarrassment.

I was slightly surprised to find quite a few Asteraceae still in a half-decent condition. There may be others out there. I found some Bristly Oxtongue (Picris echioides). 'Echioides' (like 'echinoderm') means spiny. It has strange bristles all over the leaves that come out from little blisters.

CC image by Isidre Blanc

I also found Wall Lettuce (Mycelis muralis) with its rather reddish stems and leaves, and distinctive 90 degree branching of the flower heads. It's rather elegant for something that most people would dismiss as a weed.

CC image by  Mount Rainier National Park
Also lurking were the universally-recognised Daisy (Bellis perennis)

CC image by Quartl
and the very common, Common Ragwort (Senecio jacobaea).

CC image by Danny S.

I also found some Groundsel (Senecio vulgaris).

CC image by H. Zell.

I seem to sit in a lot of traffic at the moment, so have been doing a bit of roadside botany through the car window. So I can tell you that although it's quite late in the year, there are still examples of Scentless Mayweed (Tripleurospermum inodorum) about.

CC image by Thskyt.
Another reliable member of the Asteraceae at this time of year is Pineappleweed (Matricaria discoidea). I found it on a track near where I live recently - it seems to like such spots. It's supposed to smell of pineapple when you squash it. You'll have to tell me what you make of that; I would say it is faintly pineappley, but only in a rather artificial pineappley sort of way with a decidedly revolting undercurrent. Apparently you can eat the flowers but I would really rather not. They're rather unusual flowers for the Asteraceae as they only have the central tubular disc florets, and no surrounding strap-shaped ray florets.

CC image by Leslie Seaton.
Pineappleweed isn't a native to the UK but has been spreading across the country since it allegedly made a break from Kew Gardens in the 1870s.

So that's seven Asteraceae that are still around and easily collectable. If you're lucky and quick you might find some more from the family. You might find Mugwort, Dandelion, a Cat's-Ear, Tansy,  Perennial or Smooth Sow-thistle around at the moment perhaps. I saw some of these from the car, and also a late Ox-eye daisy. And appearing early in the spring will be Winter Heliotrope, Butterbur and Colt's-foot. That's seventeen hopefuls and there may be others. (*This weekend, the 6th Nov, I saw a lone flower of Creeping thistle, which seems very late but shows things are still about if you look).

If you are collecting this group, try to get specimens that have flowers and aren't too miserable-looking. You'll want to collect the stem down to the ground as lower leaves can be a different shape to upper ones. Make sure you press them as soon as possible after finding them. There's more information here, but the most minimalist approach is between newspaper under a big pile of books. Then they'll dry out beautifully and will keep until hand-in.