Backlit

Ferns, ancient plants with unique reproduction strategies and ecological significance, adapt to diverse environments while contributing to overall biodiversity and human culture.

In the vast tapestry of the plant kingdom, ferns occupy a unique and enduring place. These ancient plants, often overlooked in favor of their flowering counterparts, have a fascinating and seemingly eternal existence that spans millions of years. Ferns, with their lush green fronds and distinctive reproductive mechanisms, offer us a glimpse into the enduring legacy of life on Earth and the remarkable adaptations that have allowed them to persist through the ages.

Ferns belong to the group of plants known as Pteridophytes, which evolved more than 360 million years ago during the late Devonian period. Their evolutionary history predates the appearance of flowering plants, making ferns some of the oldest living organisms on our planet. This remarkable longevity raises the question: how have ferns managed to survive and thrive for so long?

One key to the success of ferns lies in their unique reproductive strategy. Unlike flowering plants that produce seeds, ferns reproduce via spores. These small, dust-like structures contain the genetic material necessary for ferns to reproduce. When mature, ferns release spores into the environment, where they can be carried by the wind or water to new locations. Once a spore finds a suitable environment, it can germinate and develop into a new fern plant.

The spore-based reproduction of ferns is not only ancient but also highly efficient. It allows ferns to colonize diverse habitats, from moist, shaded forests to arid deserts. Additionally, ferns can form extensive networks of underground rhizomes, which are creeping stems that give rise to new fronds. This vegetative propagation further contributes to their resilience and adaptability.

Ferns have also developed a range of adaptations that enable them to thrive in various environmental conditions. Some fern species, such as the resurrection fern (Pleopeltis polypodioides), can endure extreme desiccation. When conditions are dry, these ferns curl up and appear dead, but they can quickly revive and unfurl their fronds when moisture returns. Backpacking through mountainous Arizona wilderness I encountered small ferns growing in the shade of rock ledges, maybe this was Phillips Cliff Fern (Woodsia phillipsii). My guide called it “Ridgeline Fern” and claimed it was important for desert survival, could be eaten in extremis situations. This remarkable ability to withstand drought and promote human survival is a testament to the tenacity and usefulness of ferns.

Another intriguing aspect of ferns is their mutualistic relationship with mycorrhizal fungi. These fungi form symbiotic associations with fern roots, aiding in nutrient absorption and enhancing the fern’s ability to thrive in nutrient-poor soils. This partnership has likely contributed to the fern’s ability to colonize a wide range of habitats and compete with other plant species.

While ferns have proven to be resilient survivors, they have also played a crucial role in shaping Earth’s ecosystems. Ferns are often early colonizers in disturbed or newly formed habitats, and their presence can help stabilize soils and create conditions suitable for the establishment of other plant species. In this way, ferns contribute to the ecological succession and overall biodiversity of ecosystems.

Beyond their ecological significance, ferns have captured the human imagination for centuries. Their delicate and intricate fronds have inspired art, literature, and even garden design. Many garden enthusiasts cultivate ferns for their ornamental beauty and unique charm.

In conclusion, the eternal life of ferns is a testament to the remarkable adaptability and resilience of these ancient plants. Their longevity, dating back millions of years, serves as a reminder of the enduring nature of life on Earth. Ferns have evolved unique reproductive strategies, adaptations to various environments, and mutualistic relationships that have allowed them to persist and thrive. Whether they are serving as pioneers in newly formed habitats or gracing our gardens with their elegance, ferns continue to capture our fascination and enrich the natural world. Their legacy reminds us of the intricate and interconnected web of life that has persisted on our planet through the ages.

Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Right Reserved MichaelStephenWills.com

Among Fallen Leaves

The red berries of the Jack-in-the-Pulpit plant play a key role in seed dispersion, wildlife sustenance, and fueling its energy storage organ, the corm.

As the crisp air of autumn settles in and the leaves begin their spectacular transformation into hues of red, orange, and yellow, the forest floor comes alive with a myriad of hidden wonders. Among these wonders, the Jack-in-the-Pulpit (Arisaema triphyllum) stands out for its striking red berries and the role they play in the fall glory of the woodland ecosystem. In this essay, we will explore the beauty and significance of these red berries and how they are intrinsically linked to the plant’s corm.

The Jack-in-the-Pulpit, a native perennial herbaceous plant of North America, is known for its distinctive appearance, featuring a hood-like structure known as the spathe and a tall, slender stalk called the spadix. It is during the fall season that the plant’s fascinating red berries make their appearance, contrasting vividly against the backdrop of autumn’s colors. These berries are the result of a process that begins in the spring, when the plant first emerges from its underground corm.

Throughout the growing season, the Jack-in-the-Pulpit devotes its energy to producing these striking red berries, which serve several important ecological functions. The red berries are not only visually appealing but also function as a means of reproduction for the plant. They contain seeds that, once mature, can be dispersed to establish new Jack-in-the-Pulpit plants. These seeds are often transported by animals that consume the berries, such as birds and rodents, which then disperse them in their droppings, contributing to the plant’s spread throughout the forest.

The bright red color of the berries is a key feature that attracts birds, making them an essential food source during the fall and early winter months. Birds like thrushes, cardinals, and robins are known to feed on the Jack-in-the-Pulpit berries, aiding in seed dispersal while benefiting from the nutrient-rich fruits. This mutualistic relationship between the plant and its avian dispersers showcases the interconnectedness of the forest ecosystem, where each species relies on the other for survival and propagation.

The significance of the Jack-in-the-Pulpit’s red berries extends to the corm beneath the surface. The corm serves as an energy storage organ for the plant, helping it survive through the harsh winter months when the above-ground parts of the plant wither and die. During the fall, as the plant directs its energy toward producing berries, it also transfers nutrients to the corm, ensuring its vitality and readiness for the following spring.

Furthermore, the corm itself can serve as an energy reserve for the production of future berries and the growth of new shoots. As the plant enters dormancy, it relies on the stored energy in the corm to fuel its growth when conditions become favorable in the next growing season. In this way, the corm and the red berries are intricately linked, with the berries representing the culmination of a year-long process of energy accumulation and reproduction.

In conclusion, the red berries of the Jack-in-the-Pulpit are a captivating and vital component of the fall glory that graces our woodlands. Their vibrant color and ecological role in seed dispersal highlight the plant’s contribution to the forest ecosystem’s richness and diversity. Moreover, these berries are a testament to the interconnectedness of nature, as they are not only visually stunning but also an essential food source for wildlife. As we marvel at the beauty of fall and explore the wonders of the natural world, let us take a moment to appreciate the significance of the red berries of the Jack-in-the-Pulpit and their role in the intricate web of life that surrounds us.

Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Right Reserved MichaelStephenWills.com

Still Blooming

Though it is sometimes referred to as a night-blooming cereus, it is not closely related to any of the species in the tribe Cereeae

It was a quiet day, upping shutter speed via an increased ISO and both exposures are equally sharp.

These were captured with the Canon EOS 5D Mark IV dslr on a Manfrotto tripod.

“The flowers are nocturnal. They grow on flattened stems and are up to 30 cm (12 in) long and 17 cm (7 in) wide, and very fragrant. The principal odor components in the aroma are benzyl salicylate and methyl linoleate.[5] Pericarpels are nude, slightly angled, and green. Bracteoles are short and narrow up through ca. 10 millimetres (0.39 in) long. Receptacles are up through 20 cm long, 1 cm thick, brownish, and arching. The outer tepals are linear, acute, 8–10 cm long, and reddish through amber. The inner tepals are whitish, oblanceolate or oblong, acuminate, up through 8–10 cm long and 2.5 centimetres (0.98 in) wide. The stamens are greenish white or white, slender and weak. The styles are greenish white, pale yellow, or white, 4 mm thick, as long as inner tepals, and with many lobes.”

“The fruits are oblong, up through 12 x 8 cm, purplish red, and angled.”

“It is known to have medicinal properties in many Asian cultures, including India, Vietnam, and Malaysia. The plant is widely used in traditional medicine to treat respiratory ailments, bleeding conditions, and is also believed to have the property of reducing pain and inflammation.”

Click me for another “Cereus” Post.

Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Night bloomer

Though it is sometimes referred to as a night-blooming cereus, it is not closely related to any of the species in the tribe Cereeae

This set compares a deep focus exposure to a shallow focus with bokeh.

These were captured with the Canon EOS 5D Mark IV dslr on a Manfrotto tripod.

“Epiphyllum oxypetalum is an easily cultivated, fast growing Epiphyllum. Epiphyllum from Greek epi- “upon” + phullon “leaf.” Oxypetalum = with acute petals. It flowers in late spring through late summer; large specimens can produce several crops of flowers in one season. This is a widely cultivated Epiphyllum species.”

“It is known to have medicinal properties in many Asian cultures, including India, Vietnam, and Malaysia. The plant is widely used in traditional medicine to treat respiratory ailments, bleeding conditions, and is also believed to have the property of reducing pain and inflammation.”

Click me for another “Cereus” Post.

Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Cereus not

Though it is sometimes referred to as a night-blooming cereus, it is not closely related to any of the species in the tribe Cereeae

“Epiphyllum oxypetalum, the Dutchman’s pipe cactus, princess of the night or queen of the night, is a species of cactus. It blooms nocturnally, and its flowers wilt before dawn. Though it is sometimes referred to as a night-blooming cereus, it is not closely related to any of the species in the tribe Cereeae, such as Selenicereus, that are more commonly known as night-blooming cereus. All Cereus species bloom at night and are terrestrial plants; Epiphyllum species are usually epiphytic.”

These were captured with the Canon EOS 5D Mark IV dslr on a Manfrotto tripod.

“Epiphyllum (“upon the leaf” in Greek) is a genus of epiphytic plants in the cactus family (Cactaceae), native to Central America and South America. Common names for these species include climbing cacti, orchid cacti and leaf cacti.”

Click me for another “Cereus” Post.

Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Mass Bloom 2023

Our “cereus” summers on a water barrel poolside, this year, 2023, over 40 blossoms opened over the course of a week in September.

These were captured with the Canon EOS 5D Mark IV dslr on a Manfrotto tripod.

“Epiphyllum (“upon the leaf” in Greek) is a genus of epiphytic plants in the cactus family (Cactaceae), native to Central America and South America. Common names for these species include climbing cacti, orchid cacti and leaf cacti.”

Click me for another “Cereus” Post.

Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Farewell to the Monarchs for 2023

Monarch from caterpillar to chrysalis to butterfly

Here are two of the ten monarchs we release this year. In under three minutes this video shows a monarch caterpillar transforming into a chrysalis, emerging two weeks later as a butterfly. Music “Emotional Underscores Vol. 3” by Yuri Sazonoff (SOCAN) “Can You Guess” and “Blessing”

Migrating monarchs soar at heights of up to 1,200 feet. As sunlight hits those wings, it heats them up, but unevenly. Black areas get hotter, while white areas stay cooler. The scientists believe that when these forces are alternated, as they are with a monarch’s white spots set against black bands on the wings’ edges, it seems to create micro-vortices of air that reduce drag—making flight more efficient.

Monarchs begin leaving the northern US and Canada in mid-August. They usually fly for 4-6 hours during the day, coming down from the skies to feed in the afternoon and then find roosting sites for the night.  Monarchs cannot fly unless their flight muscles reach 55ºF. On a sunny day, these muscles in their thorax can warm to above air temperature when they bask (the black scales on their bodies help absorb heat), so they can actually fly if it is 50ºF and sunny. But on a cloudy day, they generally don’t fly if it is below 60ºF.

“Migrating monarchs use a combination of powered flight and gliding flight, maximizing gliding flight to conserve energy and reduce wear and tear on flight muscles.  Monarchs can glide forward 3-4 feet for every foot they drop in altitude.  If they have favorable tail or quartering winds, monarchs can flap their wings once every 20-30 feet and maintain altitude. Monarchs are so light that they can easily be lifted by the rising air. But they are not weightless. In order to stay in the air, they must move forward while also staying within the thermal. They do this by moving in a circle. The rising air in the thermal carries them upward, and their overall movement ends up being an upward spiral. Monarchs spiral upwards in the thermal until they reach the limit/top of the thermal (where the rising air has cooled to the same temperature as the air around it). At that point, the monarch glides forward in a S/SW direction with the aid of the wind. It glides until it finds another thermal and rides that column of rising air upwards again.”

Reference: text in italics and quotes is from one of two online articles. “The monarch butterfly’s spots may be its superpower” National Geographic, June 2023 and “Fall Migration – How do they do it?” by Candy Sarikonda, September 2014.

Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Woody Peony and Honeybees, 50 mm

The bees happily rolled around among the stamens, notice their full pollen sacs.

Like the previous year, spring 2022, though cold, is early. As I write this the peony blooms presented here, photographed May, 2021 are seeding. Every year, Pam and I marvel at the color. 2019 this peony was in full bloom only by the end of May, around Memorial Day.

These photographs were taken with a Canon EOS 5D Mark IV dslr, and the Canon EF 50 mm f/1.2L USM lens stabilized with the Manfrotto BeFree Carbon Fiber tripod with ball head. Color results from the Canon dslr are impressive. In prior years I favored shooting late evening in the shade with a slight underexposure. This year I experimented with full sunlight. I found a slight under exposure captured the plum – fine burgundy wine nature of this Japanese cultivar, “Shimadaijin,” planted in the 1970’s or 1980’s.

This set brings out the petal’s fiery nature. In the wild, woody (also called tree) peonies favored cliffs and scrub of western and central China, eastern Himalayas (southeastern Tibet).

By a happy accident our neighbor’s honeybees foraged the nectar and pollen of these newly opened blooms. The woody stems hold the profusion of large flowers each one erect. “Tree” is a misnomer as this plant is a shrub growing mid-thigh high. One of the classic ornamental genera of China, known there as moutan or hua wang “King of Flowers.”

Cultivation in China began in Chekiang in the early 4th century AD. By the early Tang period (circa 700 AD) hundreds of varieties were grown.

The bees happily rolled around among the stamens, notice their full pollen sacs.

ISO 1600 f16 1/250 sec

References
Roger Philips and Martyn Rix, “The Botanical Garden, Vol 1, Trees and Shrubs” p 133
Wikipedia “Magenta” color

Copyright 2023 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills

Parts of the Scorpion

Twenty million years ago a then nonexistent earth-bound human civilization could recognize none of the prominent stars of the constellation Scorpius (The Scorpion) as these, compared to our 4.6 billion year old star, lit up less than 12 million years ago. The brightest star, Alpha Scorpii AKA Antares, is a red giant destined to burst into a supernova bright as the full moon within two million years. Will the human race be around to witness it?

Such as it is, The Scorpion was traced out by the Babylonian astronomers around 8 BCE following even more ancient Sumerian traditions naming Alpha Scorpii “The Heart of the Scorpion.”

I first became aware of Antares March 2009 during a stay on Cocoa Beach. Setting the room clock to a 5 am alarm to view the sunrise. As I sat listening to the surf, Antares glowed dark red in the south. It is the reddish tint star in the following illustration.

Till Credner, CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Here is a photograph of Antares, the reddish dot in center, along with the 6 of the 18 Scorpius bright stars. For this shot a Canon EOS 5D Mark IV dlsr had mounted a Canon lens EF 70-300 f4-5.6L IS USM set to 70 mm focal length, 1600 ISO. Exposure was “bulb,” meaning when the shutter button is pressed and held the shutter remains open: for this exposure this was for approximately 10 seconds. The equipment was held steady on a Manfrotto BeFree Carbon Fiber tripod. As the Earth continued to turn, the resulting star images are smeared a bit.

Bracketing Antares, the Scorpion Heart are “The Arteries” Theta and Tau. About those Greek letters, these designate relative brightness of each star respective of the others in the constellation. “Alpha” the first letter of the Greek alphabet is the brightest. Here are the other letters listed, with the alphabetic order in brackets Beta(2), Delta(4), Pi(16), Sigma(18), Tau(19). Ancient Greek built on the traditions of the Mesopotamians (Babylonian and Sumerian) and were in turn used for modern stellar nomenclature, including the tracings of sky images, the constellations.

The position of a relatively minor star, Tau, near Antares elevates it to the important function of an artery. The stars themselves run against their brightness hierarchy placement: The star Delta Scorpii, after having been a stable 2.3 magnitude star, flared in July 2000 to 1.9 in a matter of weeks. It has since become a variable star fluctuating between 2.0 and 1.6. This means that at its brightest it is the second brightest star in Scorpius.

Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Colorful Hall

Northernmost, glaciated section of the Allegheny Plateau

For my last autumn posting this last day of November 2022 this colorful hall of trees is on the long descent of Lacey Road from Cortland to Tioga Counties where it passes close the meeting point of three counties near the Robinson Hollow State Forest, the third being Tompkins County.

We are travelling south on a northernmost, glaciated section of the Allegheny Plateau. In the 19th Century a lawyer named Calvin J. Robinson was a prominent citizen of nearby Richford.

Copyright 2022 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved