The first wildflowers erupt

 

Ivy-leaved Speedwell (Veronica hederifolia) was in full bloom on south-facing slopes of the Ohio River last Saturday, February 24. Shauna Weyrauch and I visited the deep south of Ohio last weekend seeking, among other things, early flora. This species was not a primary target. Little Eurasian weeds such as this speedwell are always among the first flowers to bloom, and some of them, such as Dandelion (Taraxacum officinale) can be found in flower any month of the year. On this excursion, native plants were our goal, but I could not resist an image of the showy speedwell flower.

Our first stop was the Arc of Appalachia's Chalet Nivale Preserve in Adams County. The "Nivale" in the name refers to Trillium nivale, or Snow Trillium. Thousands of the tiny lily relatives occur there, and it is the first of Ohio's seven trillium species (used to have eight. Trillium cernuum is considered extirpated and was only documented once, in 1879 in Lake County) to bloom.

While February 24 might seem early for this species and the ones that follow to be in flower, such enthusiasm to burst from the soil is not atypical. We saw maybe 30 trilliums in flower, out of the many thousands that occur at this site. Unless there is heavy snow and extreme cold in late February - an ever-rarer occurrence, it seems - one can nearly always find a few ambitious specimens of our earliest species to bloom.

A brave Virginia Bluebell (Mertensia virginica) thrusts forth a flower and several buds. Our next stop was the Arc of Appalachia's Ohio River Bluffs Preserve, which overlooks the Ohio River and the hills of Kentucky. The steep south-facing wooded slopes always spawn early wildflowers, often a week or more before other sites in southern Ohio.

The Bluffs are famed for their huge carpets of bluebells, and they'll probably be peaking around mid-March. Scores of densely tufted rosettes were out of the ground on our visit, but almost none had managed to produce blooms like the hardy specimen in the photo. It was about 28 F when I took the picture.

Unsurprising but always welcome was the aptly named Harbinger-of-spring (Erigenia bulbosa). The elfin parsley is to be expected by late February, but while there were scores of rosettes, this was one of few flowering specimens that we saw.

PHOTOGRAPHY NOTES: When shooting wildflowers, it is important to get on the level of the subject. I sometimes handhold - if I can get a fast enough shutter speed - and have the camera's body on the ground. That's what I was doing here. Harbinger-of-spring is only a few inches in height, and to get the beautiful creamy bokeh (background) there cannot be distractions like leaf litter immediately behind the subject. Plus, getting on the subject's level creates an intimacy lost when standing or kneeling and shooting down on the plant.

More often than not, though, I prefer to have the camera mounted on a tripod. And the Oben CTT-1000 is killer for wee subjects, the best I've yet found. It is carbon fiber, weighs nearly nothing, is highly adjustable and splays flat on the ground if you want. This micro-tripod is only about $90, and so small it tucks easily in my backpack. Jeff B. has them RIGHT HERE and will promptly ship it to your door.

The advantage of having the rig stabilized on a tripod is that my favorite settings can be used. I like to shoot at very low ISO settings, usually 100 or 200, and that can mean really low shutter speeds. Somewhat offsetting that is the wider apertures that I favor for plants, which usually range from f/4 to f/7.1, rarely smaller. As long as wind isn't a factor, shutter speed is irrelevant when working from a tripod. This Harbinger-of-spring shot was an exception to my standard apertures: I shot it at f/9 (at 1/30 second), to get a bit more depth through the inflorescence, and because there were no potentially distracting objects behind my subject. With no need to hold the camera, I can use two-second timer delay, so that I'm not even touching the camera when it fires. The Canon R5 has the ability to just touch the rear screen, and it instantly focuses on the spot that you touched and then immediately initiates the shot process. Two seconds later, the camera fires. Flash? Never, or nearly never, if the subject is a plant. Flash typically imparts a harshness to the subject, and harshness is not what I'm after with wildflowers.

One our most beautiful members of the Liliaceae, White Trout Lily (Erythronium albidum). It leads the parade of trout lilies - two other species occur in Ohio - and it isn't atypical to find a few in flower by late February. Come early to mid-March and on into April, the two yellow species will be in flower in southern Ohio, and one of them is one of our rarest plants, the Goldenstar (Erythronium rostratum). The Arc of Appalachia (incredible conservation organization!) owns the Gladys Riley Golden Star Lily Preserve in western Scioto County, and it is a must-visit place when its namesake Goldenstars are in peak bloom. There are thousands of them, and one would not suspect it is rare in Ohio after seeing them all at this site. But there is only one other much smaller locale in nearby Adams County. The peak bloom varies a bit from year to year, but usually is between mid to late March, although in years past I've seen flowers in early March, and into the first week of April.

Mild winter triggers early blooming of spring wildflowers

 

Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis)/Jim McCormac

Mild winter triggers early blooming of spring wildflowers

Columbus Dispatch
March 19, 2023

NATURE
Jim McCormac

Tomorrow is the official first day of spring.

March 20 is the spring equinox, when the sun is directly above the equator and day and night are of equal lengths.

Plants (and birds and most other animals) pay this celestial milestone no heed. Commencing in early February, the wildflowers respond to ever-lengthening daylight. First up is the skunk-cabbage, which springs from its swampy haunts while ice and snow are still a thing. This botanical oddity counters wintry weather with thermogenesis: the ability to produce its own heat. Flowers and pollen are present by mid-February.

Last February was especially meek in much of Ohio, with little snow and often mild temperatures. Rising soil temperatures trigger the appearance of wildflowers, and many awakened early this year. Needing a botanical fix, I headed to the Ohio River Valley on Feb. 26. My core destinations were two amazing sites owned by the Arc of Appalachia, a land trust that protects some of Ohio’s most significant natural areas.

First up was the Chalet Nivale Preserve in northwestern Adams County. Nivale (ny-val-ee) means "snowy" and refers to the scientific name of the snow trillium: Trillium nivale. The preserve harbors a massive population of this rare plant, which is only known in about a dozen of Ohio’s 88 counties. Most populations are highly localized, widely scattered and often small in size.

Plenty of trillium were in bloom by the time of my visit, the earliest I have ever seen them. Less obvious but equally interesting were the flowers of a spindly shrub, American hazelnut. Its long dangling spikes of male flowers are conspicuous, but the bigger visual treat are the tiny scarlet female flowers. They are only a few millimeters across and resemble colorful sea anemones upon close inspection.

From there, it was on south, to a spectacular east-facing bluff overlooking the Ohio River near the town of Manchester. The Arc of Appalachia owns a 300-acre preserve here known as the Ohio River Bluffs. This is the first place that I know of in Ohio where one can get their end-of-winter wildflower fix.

Even on the early date of Feb. 26, I saw over a dozen wildflower species in bloom. A tiny parsley aptly dubbed harbinger-of-spring was everywhere. A whopper is a few inches in height, yet they push through the leaf litter to present salt-and-pepper-colored flower umbels to the late winter sun. Ghostly white trout lilies, their pale flowers appearing to levitate low over the forest floor, were everywhere. This is our earliest native lily to flower.

Evidence of the rapidity of wildflower growth was a bloodroot, one of only two native poppies in the state. On my way out of the preserve, I noticed one in full bloom, its flower still unfurling. I’m confident it wasn’t there when I hiked past two hours earlier.

Ohio River Bluffs is noted for huge carpets of bluebells, but the floral show doesn’t usually take the stage until late March into early April. This year, many bluebells were already up and some were even in flower. Other early blooms were cut-leaved toothwort, hepatica, rue-anemone, and yellow harlequin.

By now, nearly a month later, far more wildflowers are out, including in the Columbus area. Good places to hunt them include Battelle Darby and Highbanks metro parks. For those in northern lands like Cleveland, Mansfield and Toledo, take hope. Spring rolls northward at about 17 miles a day, and it won’t be long until the floral show hits your areas.

Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first, third and fifth Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature atwww.jimmccormac.blogspot.com.

American Hazelnut (Corylus americana)

Harbinger-of-spring (Erigenia bulbosa)

White Trout Lily (Erythronium albidum)

Snow Trillium (Trillium nivale)

Some spring wildflowers, and thoughts on the photography thereof

 

f/9, ISO 250, 1/100 - 100mm macro lens

A Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis) grows before our eyes - or at least mine, at the time. I shot this poppy family member back on February 26 - a very early date. When I passed this spot on the trail a few hours earlier, I saw no sign of the flower. A fairly warm and virtually snowless February spurred southern Ohio wildflowers to erupt earlier than normal.

The image above and all of the following were made on either February 26, or March 9, at the Arc of Appalachia's Ohio River Bluffs Preserve, or their Chalet Nivale Preserve. Both are in Adams County, Ohio.

When I go afield with botanical photography as the objective, I generally pack three lenses: Canon (all my camera gear is Canon) 100mm f/2.8 macro lens, 16-35mm f/2.8 II wide-angle, and the 70-200mm f/2.8 II. In the case of these images, all were shot with the Canon R5 mirrorless camera. I have examples made with two of those lenses in this post, along with some thoughts on using the gear effectively to create wildflower portraits.

f/7.1, ISO 250, 1/8 second, 100mm macro lens

Harbinger-of-spring (Erigenia bulbosa) peeks from leaf litter. The hardy little parsley is one of the first spring (late winter!) wildflowers to emerge.

Even old dogs should be able to learn new tricks. At one time, I tended to use narrow apertures (often f/11 to f/16) for greater depth of field, and - horrors! - often flash. Then I met Debbie DiCarlo and we began teaching some photography classes together. I loved her botanical work and was astute enough to notice that it did not look much like mine. And I wished mine looked more like hers.

So, from her I learned about softer, more wide-open apertures, scrapping the flash, and thinking harder about composition. The Harbinger-of-spring above manifests this. Now, most of my plant work is between f/4 and f/7.1 and this image was made at the latter. The closest flowers are the focus point, and I do not care that the rest of the subject is not in sharp focus. The wide aperture melts the background but the dissected cauline (stem) leaves can still be seen.

f/6.3, ISO 200, 1/320, 70-200mm lens at 140 mm

Early Blue Cohosh (Caulophyllum giganteum) has a bizarre appearance when it is emerging. Nearly all parts of the plant are an attractive purplish shade, and the flowers are already mature even as the foliage unfurls. Their bright yellow anthers provide the only punctuation point to the plant.

For this, I used my 70-200mm with a 25mm extension tube, at 140mm. The hollow tube allows for closer focusing and does not detract at all from image quality as there is not glass within it. As usual, I am in my ISO sweet spot - 200. For plants, I almost always operate between ISO 100 and 400, and normally between ISO 100-200. I want the cleanest possible files, and there is normally no need to use high ISO when shooting plants. I like the effect of the mini-telephoto 70-200, which really compresses the subject and obliterates the background. A busy background is normally not a desirable quality for botanical imagery, at least to me.

f/7.1, ISO 100, 1/40, 100mm macro lens

A White Trout Lily (Erythronium albidum), the earliest of our lilies to bloom. This is a diminutive plant, and to make effective captures more challenging the flowers dangle almost straight down. I generally would prefer to have my camera horizontal to the flower, and better yet, slightly below it. The bottom line is plant photographers will spend lots of time on the ground, on their subjects' plane.

I'm almost always working off a tripod, and my current favorite is the relatively inexpensive Oben CTT-1000, with their excellent ball head. It is made from carbon fiber, is flyweight, versatile in positioning, and allows me to get my camera nearly on the ground. Stabilizing the rig is vital, for reasons I will expound on under the next image.

f/5.6, ISO 250, 1/320, 100mm macro lens

White Trout Lily flowers are botanical will-o-the-wisps, appearing to float low over the forest leaf litter. To get this perspective, my camera was under the plant and shooting upwards, thanks to my mini-tripod.

A major reason why tripods are important in botanical photography is because slow shutter speeds are often used. Of the three major parameters - aperture, ISO, and shutter speed - the latter is least important. I want a low ISO to keep my images as clean (less noise) as possible. The aperture is a major driver as it dictates the look that I get of my subject and its environs. The shutter speed is merely whatever the aperture and ISO dictate it to be. While this trout lily flower was shot at a comparatively fast speed, the Harbinger-of-spring above was shot at 1/8 second! And the previous trout lily shot was made at 1/40 second.

No one will have much luck hand-holding a rig at such slow shutter speeds. The miss rate would skyrocket, and you likely would not get any sharp images. This is why wind is the plant photographer's enemy. As long as the subject is immobile, one can use very slow shutter speeds in tangent with very low ISO settings, no problem. Windy days? I'm not going to be shooting wildflowers.

f/16, ISO 200, 1/2 second, 100mm macro lens

The seldom noticed pistillate (female) flower of American Hazelnut (Corylus americana). It is truly elfin and thus overlooked. This was - for me - a rare case of using a tiny aperture, f/16 in this case. I did so because I wanted sharpness throughout the bizarre blossom. The bokeh (background quality) is creamy brown because there was nothing for probably 20 or more feet behind the subject. The brown tones are caused by a distant leaf-covered slope.

Note the shutter speed - one-half second! While the camera/lens was firmly stabilized on a tripod, there are additional steps to ensure a sharp image. I set my camera's shutter release to a 2-second delay so that my hands aren't even touching the rig when it fires (there is also a 10-second delay option but that's usually overkill). I also have the camera set so that I can just touch the back viewing screen with my finger, and it will instantly focus on that spot, then activate the shutter (2 seconds later). Complete stillness with the camera. Not all cameras (yet) have that touch screen option, but just about all DSLR or mirrorless cameras have the timer delay feature.

f/8, ISO 200, 1/30, 100mm macro lens

A lethargic group of Hepatica (Hepatica nobilis) flowers on a frosty morning. A few hours later, with significantly warmer temperatures, the flowers would be proudly upright and fully expanded. I stopped down a bit more than usual - to f/8 - for a bit more depth on this elfin flower forest. Focus was on the top right flower, which was closest to the lens. It's almost always best to focus on the nearest flower, as that is where the eyes of viewers of your image will likely first be drawn.

NOTE: I take the conservative position and lump the two hepatica "species" together under the available name Hepatica nobilis. If you split them, this would be the so-called Sharp-lobed Hepatica (H. acutiloba).

In my next post, I will share short sequences of two of Ohio's rarest and most beautiful lilies, with some thoughts on composition.

Southern Ohio wildflowers

One of the rarest of Ohio's nearly 30 species of Viola, Walter's violet, Viola walteri. A tiny species of thin soil over limestone, this early bloomer is rare in Ohio, and the populations here are the northernmost in its range. The diminutive violet is named for Thomas Walter, a British botanist who came to South Carolina in the mid-1700's and ended up describing about 200 new plant species.

I made an epic botano-centric trip to Adams County last Saturday, and covered a lot of ground. Met with some people to look at a very interesting piece of land - more on that later, perhaps (and yes, we "social-distanced"), but on the way there I stopped to admire this stunning violet.

Here's a bigger picture view of the Walter's violet habitat. There's scarcely more than a dusting of soil over dolomitic rock, and a number of other rarities grow at this locale. It's at the summit of high limestone cliffs, and white cedar, Thuja occidentalis, partially shades the violets.

At our rendezvous point was a fine grove of pawpaw, Asimina triloba, just starting to flower. I find these bizarre blossoms photographically irresistible. This is the host plant for the beautiful zebra swallowtail, Eurytides marcellus. We would see several of these butterflies later in the day.

John Howard was at the meeting/hike, and after that he and I headed south into the depths of Adams County. We had a number of targets, and had a quite fruitful day. At one site, a dry oak-dominated hillside sported dozens of pink lady's-slipper, Cypripedium acaule. Some of them were already in bud. The upcoming cool weather will probably hold them back a bit, but it won't be too long before the floriferous pink "slippers" burst forth. I'll hope to visit again around that time.

A small prairie near Lynx was starting to push forth a showy display of Indian-paintbrush, Castilleja coccinea. The brightly colored bracts - the true flowers are very inconspicuous - of this figwort family member really lit up the otherwise brown prairie.

Eventually, John and I made it down to the Ohio River. One target was this, the cross-vine, Bignonia capreolata. We figured it would be in bloom, and we were not disappointed. This limestone cliff face was draped with vines, and the flowers were coming on strong. A large bumblebee or two worked the blooms. These burly insects are a primary pollinator.

The family Bignoniaceae is huge (800 species), mostly tropical, and many species are vines. Up here, there are only two: this species, and the much more widespread and familiar trumpet-creeper, Campsis radicans. I find the cross-vine to be the more exotic of the two. But if you're an Ohioan, you'll have to travel south to see it. Cross-vine is at its northern limits on our side of the Ohio River. The hills of Kentucky loomed large at this site.

A breath-taking rural roadside, carpeted with wildflowers that have spilled out from the adjacent wooded slope. It's hard to imagine how anyone could pass by a scene like this and fail to take note, or be awed by the dazzling display. We were, and stopped for a look. Dwarf larkspur, Delphinium tricorne, provides much of the colorful pizazz.

Here's a raceme of typically colored larkspur flowers.

And here's a more interesting (to me) bicolored form. There is also a pure white form, which has been described as forma albiflorum. I have seen that, but this variegated form is even showier and not something one sees at every larkspur patch.

Sprinkled among the larkspur was false garlic, Nothoscordum bivalve, arguably the showiest of our wild onions (Allium cernuum is a strong contender). It's rare in Ohio, and listed as threatened, with extant populations in only two counties: Adams, and Clark. The Clark County site is tiny, the Adams County populations can be robust. However, it's only in a very limited area along or near the Ohio River, and mostly west of Ohio Brush Creek.

By the time we reached this spot, the day was rapidly aging and there wasn't a lot of time left. Someday, I want to spend more time with false garlic to search for an oligolectic bee known as Andrena nothoscordi. The small mining bee only visits the flowers of this plant species. Its fortunes are completely tied to false garlic. Such specialization is not at all rare in Nature. This is why true conservation strategies should take into account ALL species and be ecologically based, such as The Nature Conservancy does, and the group we met with earlier on this day, the Arc of Appalachia, certainly does.

Game-farming style management for selected, prioritized species, especially white-tailed deer, is a surefire way to doom an ecosystem over time.

Nature: Spring trip to southern Ohio brings finds of blooms, bats

An eastern red bat/Jim McCormac

Nature: Spring trip to southern Ohio brings finds of blooms, bats

Columbus Dispatch

March 29, 2020

NATURE
Jim McCormac

With the coronavirus causing major human disruption, many people are retreating to parks and natural areas for relaxation and recreation. Nature’s processes roll along, uninterrupted, and one can take hope from that.

I ventured southward to Highland County, birthplace of Johnny Paycheck, on March 21 to visit two interesting areas. This scenic county sits at the interface of glaciation, with gently rolling plains to the north and hill country in the south.

Signs of spring’s onset become more pronounced the farther south one goes, and I was in search of such evidence. My first stop was Fallsville Wildlife Area. This 1,400-acre site’s centerpiece is Clear Creek — one of 11 such-named Ohio streams, in at least as many counties. However, none of the rest have a spectacular waterfall.

Fallsville Falls — named for a now extinct village — tumbles over a 20-foot limestone cliff and into a narrow box canyon. Recent rains had swollen the little creek, and the torrent of water plunging over the falls was spectacular. A botanical bonus was scores of tiny snow trilliums blooming on adjacent wooded slopes.

Then it was on to Miller Nature Sanctuary, 20 miles southeast, on land owned and managed by the ODNR’s Division of Natural Areas and Preserves. Of their 130-plus preserves, this is one of the showiest.

My main interest was spring wildflowers, but I also had mammalian hopes. The preserve has many young beech trees in the forest understory, and these plants hold many of last year’s leaves. The senescent foliage offers camouflage for one of our most interesting bats.

Because it was only 32 degrees when I arrived, I was not optimistic about finding bats. However, spring flora was erupting everywhere: snow trillium, rosette leaves of shooting-star, Virginia bluebell in bud, flowering harbinger-of-spring, blue cohosh, spring-beauty and others.

In spite of numerous floral distractions, I kept an eye on the beech trees. Suddenly, there it was — a darker brown lump among the leaves, and I knew from experience what it was.

An eastern red bat!

It was about 30 feet away, and as I moved in the beautiful little mammal’s form took shape. It was hanging upside down, vampire-like, from its feet. Red bats are tiny, about the size of beech leaves, and it’s no mystery why they roost among withered foliage. Their camouflage in such environments is remarkable.

This species is well-named. Their pelage is bright-rusty, the only of our bats to be so-colored. Conspicuous patches of frosty fur indicated this animal was likely a female.

Red bats are highly migratory, and like birds, waves of red bats move north in spring. Some of them also winter at least as far north as southern Ohio, and my find might have been one of those.

In colder weather, red bats will bury into the leaf litter of forest floors. As my bat was hanging in a tree, I wonder if it might have arrived on warm winds of the preceding days.

The interesting little bat, the wildflowers and Highland County’s beautiful scenery made me temporarily forget about the current pandemic and all its associated issues.

Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first, third and fifth Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com.

The annual spring wildflower eruption commences!

As mentioned in the previous post, I journeyed to southern Ohio's Adams and Scioto counties last Thursday. It tuned out to be a fairly epic excursion, with many interesting finds. I even made some photos. While wildflowers were my primary quarry, I did find numerous notable insects and may post some of those later.

For now, here is a pictorial account of a March 26 trip to the Ohio River Valley and vicinity, and a smattering of the wildflowers that I saw. May it offer hope to those of you in northern tundra lands, like Cleveland.

One of our early-blooming native mustards, purple cress, Cardamine douglassii. The "Douglass" in the scientific epithet refers to David Douglass, who was president of Kenyon College (Gambier, Ohio) from 1841-45. I love the photographic challenge of trying to portray these botanical elfins with my camera. This was one of many purple cress plants at the Ohio River Bluffs near Manchester in Adams County.

Another mustard, cut-leaved toothwort, Cardamine concatenata, In addition to beautifying our woodlands, it is a host plant for the falcate orangetip and West Virginia white butterflies.

A blue-eyed mary, Collinsia verna, just starting. The very first plants were putting forth flowers last Thursday in the Ohio River Valley of Adams County. This little annual will come on fast in the next week or so, and some populations can encompass many thousands of plants. A rich woods carpeted with this fantastic wildflower is one of spring's most magnificent botanical spectacles.

A true spring ephemeral wildflower, the yellow harlequin, Corydalis flavula. Low in stature, with tiny flowers, it can be easy to pass by. Gladys Riley Goldenstar Preserve, Scioto County.

A stunning buttercup, made all the more so by its habit of growing en masse, is dwarf larkspur, Delphinium tricorne. While many spring pollinator insects visit the showy flowers, it is thought that large bumblebees in the genus Bombus, and ruby-throated hummingbirds, are primary pollinators.

White trout lily, Erythronium albidum, were everywhere. I made this shot along a forest road in Shawnee State Forest, but saw them everywhere I went.

The bluebells, Mertensia virginica, were just coming on. By the time that you read this, hillsides along the Ohio River will be blanketed with blue. This species is easily one of our best known and most popular native wildflowers.

A personal favorite is Jacob's-ladder, Polemonium reptans, one of spring's most stunning wildflowers. It even has a specialist mining bee tied to it - Andrena polemonii. I would dearly love to catch one of those bees at its mothership flower.

The earliest of our trillia - excepting snow trillium, Trillium nivale - is this, the toadshade, or sessile trillium, T. sessile. It was already nearing peak bloom in places. It's always worth watching for the rare lemon-colored flower variants of this species.

A perfoliate bellwort, Uvularia perfoliata, still unfurling. We have three species of these liliaceous oddities. Another, the sessile-leaved bellwort, U. sessilifolia, is easily distinguished by its sessile (non-clasping) leaves. The other, large-flowered bellwort, U. grandiflora, is larger overall and the inner surface of the petals ("tepals", in lily-speak) lack the orange pubescence of this species.

Field pansy, Viola bicolor (synonym = V. rafinesquii) was already going strong in dry fields near the Ohio River. I also saw common blue violet, V. sororia, and downy yellow violet, V. pubescens. Violets are very much plants of spring, and these three lead the pack. Two dozen other species will follow in their wake.

Nature: Wildflowers rouse from their winter slumber

Spring-beauty, Claytonia virginica, one of Ohio's most common wildflowers/Jim McCormac

Columbus Dispatch

April 7, 2019

NATURE
Jim McCormac

Spring steamrolls north at the rate of about 17 miles a day, leaving a wake awash in green growing things. The floral eruption commences in late February, when the odd flowers of the skunk cabbage thrust from the mire. However, the dam really bursts in April and floods Ohio’s landscape with flowers.

As I write this, the northern plains of Cleveland and Toledo remain unfruited, barren and snowy. Not so along the Ohio River Valley in our southernmost reaches. I was in Adams and Scioto counties on April 1, and wildflowers were busting out everywhere. Take heart, ye people of the northern lands — spring is headed your way and it’s unstoppable.

My visits to various botanical hot spots produced many hardy wildflowers in spite of the morning’s 25-degree frostiness. Dwarf larkspur, Harbinger-of-spring, hepatica, spring-beauty, Virginia bluebells and many others. Two rarities were on my hit list and both were in good floral spirits: goldenstar lily and snow trillium.

Lengthening days and warming soils stir wildflowers from their earthen beds. In the brief window between winter’s end and tree leafout, wildflowers run riot in sun-soaked woodlands. By mid-May or so, emergent leaves have tremendously reduced sunlight penetration to the forest floor, and the wildflower parade peters out.

“Wildflower” is a generic term, but is defined by Merriam-Webster as: “The flower of a wild or uncultivated plant or the plant bearing it.” Most of Ohio’s roughly 1,800 species of native plants would not be thought of as “wildflowers”, but of those that are, the spring wildflowers are the most eagerly sought.

Although the pure aesthetics of vernal flowers bring a joy in itself, these delicate plants do heavy ecological lifting. Legions of tiny bees, beetles, wasps and other insects sync their emergence with that of the flowers. Our native pollinators are often quite finicky about where they take nectar or pollen.

Oligolectic pollinating insects are those that are entirely wedded to one family, genus, or even a single species of plant. Many of our spring wildflowers support such insects. Golden ragwort, Jacob’s ladder, violets, waterleaf, wild geranium, and more all have their dependent specialists. No insect, no plant. No plant, no insect.

The caterpillars of various moths and butterflies, such as Leconte’s haploa moth and fritillary butterflies, feast on wildflower foliage. Only about one percent of these larvae will make it to the reproductive stage. The rest become food for birds and other animals. Nature’s hotdogs, you might say.

Ants play an enormous role in fostering spring flora. Many wildflowers’ seeds are appended with fleshy nutritious growths known as elaisomes. These vegetative steaks lure ants, which cart them off and, ultimately, leave the seed far from its source, thus spreading the plants about.


The above-ground parts of wildflowers ultimately wither and die, and their biomass contributes to building the rich soils of forests. Incomprehensively vast webs of fungi spread throughout this rich humus, forming the loamy framework from which other plants spring.

Spring wildflowers possess an intrinsic value to people that is not quantifiable. Imagine a natural landscape without them. Such a place would be soulless indeed.
The Ohio Division of Wildlife produces a wonderful primer titled Spring Wildflowers of Ohio. This 80-page booklet is free, and available by calling 1-800-WILDLIFE or emailing wildinfo@dnr.state.oh.us.

Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first, third and fifth Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com.

Spring wildflowers erupt!

I have been remiss in posting about one of the best parts of spring - the eruption of the earliest spring wildflowers. There are many signs of winter's thaw each year, but none pronounce the passing of cold and ice and the onset of spring as enthusiastically as do colorful wildflowers. Each year, or nearly so, I make a peregrination to a few special hotspots in Adams County, to steep bluffs that overlook the Ohio River. Here, spring arrives far earlier than it does to points even a few miles away - far earlier than northern lands such as Columbus, or Cleveland.

So, on March 5 I made the trek southward, and was rewarded by the spectacle of a dozen or so wildflower species peeking from the ground - the first scouts in what will later become a botanical avalanche of flora.

Virginia Bluebells, Mertensia virginica, were just starting to unfurl. One might argue that newly emerged plants, such as this one, are the showiest. The pink buds are punctuated by the first bright blue flowers. By now, this expansive hillside will be covered with acres of flowering bluebells.

One of our first "wildflowers", and one of the easiest to pass by, is the female flowers of American Hazelnut, Corylus americana, a shrub. The dangling yellowish spikes of male flowers are far easier to spot, and when one does, all that is necessary is to move in close and inspect nearby terminal branch tips. The bright scarlet flowers may be tiny, but are quite showy upon close examination.

Harbinger-of-spring, Erigenia bulbosa, had burst forth in great profusion even on this early date. It was everywhere I looked, and one notable wooded floodplain sported many hundreds if not thousands of the elfin parsleys. A whopper plant might tower only two inches or so off the forest floor, and some plants remain concealed by leaf litter.

Snow Trillium, Trillium nivale, always a crowd-pleaser and a plant that I make an effort to see each spring. This little lily - smallest of the eight Ohio Trillium species - is also the first to bloom. It's common name is apt - flowering plants are routinely blanketed by early spring snowfalls.

This individual had the good manners to grow alone on a rich bed of moss, making for good photographic fodder. The Adams County honey-hole where I photographed these Snow Trillium is in the midst of a boom year. More plants than I ever recall seeing there were shooting forth, and the population still had a ways to go before reaching peak bloom. Many thousands of plants occur here - the biggest population of Snow Trillium in Ohio, and probably one of the largest anywhere.

Hardy White Trout Lilies, Erythronium albidum, were flowering in numbers most everywhere. These graceful lily is always one of the very first wildflowers to pop up. As is always the case with small plants, the photographer must go prostrate to present them well. I had my head pressed into the forest humus to get an upward angle of the gorgeous six-petaled flower, which is only held 6-8 inches aloft on its bare flesh-colored peduncle.

By now, far more spring wildflowers will have sprung forth, and they'll reach a climax in southern Ohio in mid-April or so. I'll hope to get back down there before long, and shoot some more of them.

A few flowers of spring

I seldom ignore the wildflowers. They, in all of their colorful, ephemeral glory, usher in spring like no others. Following is a brief sampling of shots taken on recent expeditions. In the interest of time, or lack thereof, I shall just offer brief captions, and you may make what you will of them.

 

An elfin hummock of Bluets, Houstonia caerulea, brightens a rough embankment.

A Sessile Trillium, Trillium sessile, ekes out space on a rich hillside carpeted with other wildflowers. This plant is sometimes known as "Toadshade".

The pale lavender blooms of Long-spurred Violets, Viola rostrata, are adorned with baseball bat-like extensions. Look for them along streams and lush wooded terraces.

A tsunami of Pussy-toes, Anennaria plantaginifolia, washes down a barren slope. Later, beautiful American Lady butterflies may lay their eggs on the foliage.

Without doubt, one of the showiest woodland wildflowers is the Greek Valerian, Polemonium reptans. This is the variety villosum, which was named by Ohio botanist Lucy Braun.

A meadow dappled with brilliant scarlet Indian-paintbrush, Castilleja coccinea, is an almost shocking spectacle. It is the bracts (modified leaves) that are colored orange, not the flowers. The latter are inconspicuous and green.