Always Check the Unusual

I never pass up the opportunity to examine something that just doesn’t look quite right.  As I was walking through the field, I noticed Field Thistle flower heads showing what seemed to be a central disk.  That is something that should not be.

There was definitely something odd about the center of the flower, but it didn’t appear to be a part of the flower itself.

It seemed to be an animal.  I began to think Japanese Beetle.

Definitely a beetle, but not Japanese.  It was really digging deep into the flowerhead.

It took some poking to get the beetle to back its head out of the flower.  This is a Dark Flower Scarab, Euphoria sepulcralis, a type of Flower Beetle.  These big flower beetles are fun to watch as they wallow around inside a big flower.  They remind me of desert travelers in the old movies who would jump into the oasis pool and whoop around splashing water all over themselves.

Short Field Thistle

This is the time of year to enjoy the lovely blooms of the tall native thistles.  These gangly giants can reach a towering 9 feet tall and produce dozens of separate flower heads.  Each bloom is like a starburst fireworks display.  The pictured creation was produced by the common Field Thistle, Cirsium discolor.

Like many other plants of the prairie, Field Thistle failed to live up to its expectations this year.  At 24 inches tall, this plant barely makes it above the surrounding grass.  The effects of an early season drought continue to be demonstrated by the short stature of normally tall and robust plants.

Field Thistle is usually a short lived perennial plant in this area, so it began its growth by using root stored energy from the previous growing season.  As the leaves developed, the plant was no longer dependent on stored energy and began producing its energy through photosynthesis.  The first priority for this newly produced energy is for root growth.  It’s easy to see the cycle of death and regrowth of the above ground portion of the plant.  What goes unnoticed is a similar cycle with the roots.  As the growing season progresses, the old root mass declines in favor of fresh new growth.  The success of the root replacement process strongly influences that amount of energy available for leaf growth, flowering and seed production.  The plant’s priority is to amass a store of energy sufficient to carry it though the coming winter.  In extremely stressful years, this may mean no flowers at all.

Fewer flower heads means that flower visitors have to crowd in and share the bloom.  Most flowers contain a mixed bag of beetle species.

Many people are quick to tag all tall growing thistles as the non-native Bull Thistle.  A check of the stem will quickly separate the Bull Thistle from the natives.  The stem of the Bull Thistle contains spines, while the native thistles have a spineless stem.  The leaf tips still carry a full arsenal of sharp spines, so it’s best to be cautious around these plants.

Even a handful of flower heads will produce a large quantity of seed.  Seeds are distributed by the wind, but the birds will take most of them before they are fully ripe.  It appears that the fight for seeds will be highly competitive this year.  I hope deep, persistent snow cover doesn’t add to the problems related to a diminished seed crop.

Summer Bloomers Still Hanging On

The dry weather seems to be delaying the transition into autumn. The fall asters have not yet begun to bloom, but most of the showy summer flowers have almost disappeared. The result is a landscape of golden brown grasses and very little bright color. Occasionally you see a fresh bloom from some summer species that has not yet called it quits. Here is a fresh Western Sunflower adding a splash of color to the field.

Several Field Thistles are still producing new flowers. This is probably the most common nectar plant now available in the old crop fields. A Leonard’s Skipper is taking advantage of this nectar supply.

Thistle flowers at Blue Jay Barrens also come in white, cream, pink and pale lavender. I’ve toyed with the idea of collecting seed from the various colors and creating a thistle flower bed near the house. Several things have kept me from pursuing this project. These are biennial plants, so I would have to plant seed every year in order to maintain flowers from year to year. Depending on patterns of pollen transfer and the genetics of the individual plant, I may not get any of the colors I’m actually after. I think it best that I just enjoy the plants out in the field.

Most of the Indian Grass has finished blooming, but there are isolated patches that are just getting started. Most of the flowering specimens are found in more shaded locations on the lower slopes. These areas may have remained cooler early in the year and delayed the growth of the Indian Grass in the spring.

Gray Goldenrod is still around and remains the most numerous blooming goldenrod. The later blooming goldenrods are going to have to hurry in order to flower and produce seed before they are knocked back by the first heavy frost.

There are still some Orange Coneflowers blooming in the fields, but none display the attractive appearance I was seeing two months ago. This must really be a tasty flower. Every bloom I saw had some insect munching away at the leaves. The late flowers may suffer, but the plants have produced an ample supply of seed for future generations.

Thistle

How can anyone not love this flower? It’s probably one of the most photographed of our native wildflowers. You can find this image in all sorts of artwork and craft items. Yet, millions despise this beautiful plant.

Bloom stage or viewing angle makes no difference. People will find any number of compliments for this gorgeous bloom, until you tell them the name. This is Field Thistle, Cirsium discolor. Because of a preconceived notion that thistles are weeds, people will deny insects and hummingbirds this bountiful producer of nectar and deprive Goldfinches of its seed and thistle down. At Blue Jay Barrens the native thistles are welcome.

As blooming progresses, the individual tube flowers roll outward in a seemingly endless procession. Reminds me of sharks teeth constantly coming forward to replace the one that went before.

This thistle bloom is a collection of these individual flowers. Those hairs showing between flowers are the pappus, feathery attachments that allow the seed to float off to new areas. Pappus is what we call the down.

Even when the bloom has passed, the flower is still attractive. What do we want to call this shape? Pineapple? Pin Cushion? Shaving Brush? Sorry, the younger crowd probably doesn’t know what a shaving brush is?

A seed ready to take off. A single plant can simultaneously have all stages of flowering from bud to floating seed.

This is a tall plant with a big flower. It can compete with other tall plants, but it doesn’t seem dominate an area. You can have a huge thistle plant and still have an abundance of other species in the same area.

It blends beautifully with the Indian Grass. The green and purple of the flower compliments the gold and brown of the tall grass.

There is an invasive thistle, called the Bull Thistle, which is similar in appearance to the Field Thistle. A stem bearing spines is a distinguishing characteristic of this foreign invader. The stem of the Field Thistle, shown above, is free of spines. The leaves do have spines, which may contribute somewhat to people’s negative attitude toward this plant.

The Field Thistle also has a white, wooly covering on the underside of the leaves, which is absent in the Bull Thistle.

As with all blue or pink flowers, there is a chance for some blooms to be white. White thistles are not terribly uncommon and some can usually be found in any large field.