Wild Basil

How do you know when you’ve seen the last bloom of the year? Natural variations cause individual plants to develop at slightly different rates. The majority of the plants will bloom within what we have determined to be the normal blooming period. A few will bloom earlier or later than expected. Here is a Wild Basil, Satureja vulgaris, blooming now when it should have stopped almost two months ago.

The plants are doing wonderfully in the partial shade of this cedar thicket. Aside from the mosses, this is about the only green plant in the area now.

Most of the flower clusters now look like this. This stage might even be more attractive with the contrast between the soft looking hairs and the dagger like calyx lobes.

The leaves are still in pretty good shape, although there is some browning of the tips. They’ve been through some below freezing temperatures, but the cedar canopy spares them the hardship of frost.

This is a hairy plant and the stem is very fuzzy. Thick hairs on a plant often deter predation by certain insects. The hairs may represent a physical barrier that insects can’t penetrate or the insects may be like me and prefer to bite into the smooth skinned nectarine instead of the fuzzy peach.

Grape Vine

If you have trees, you’re bound to have some vines. Big vines need big trees for support. This Eastern Red Cedar and its accompanying grape vine are a good example. Vines have a way of bringing down the tree that supports them. I don’t think this cedar is in any danger of being overwhelmed.

This vine has been growing here for a long time. Its coloration matches that of the cedar and it seems to share the same lichens and mosses on its bark.

This is quite a thick base. People often cut grape vines from the woods to protect valuable timber. Vines in high numbers can be a problem, but a few scattered around have definite wildlife value and I believe add to the woodland aesthetics. It may look as though I’m trying to choke the life out of this vine, but it’s more like a hearty handshake and a wish that it continue its healthy growth.

The shaggy bark harbors a multitude of insects. I see lots of bird species working their way along the vines probing for insects. Back in the days when everyone was going to get rich selling grape vine wreaths, I would see people wrestling with vines like this in an effort to pull the vine from the tree. Aside from sweat and pulled muscles, all they ever accomplished was to shake a lot of this pretty bark loose.

It’s amazing how far up you have to go to find where a large vine like this is actually attached to the tree. When young, the grape vine uses tendrils to cling to bark and branches as it makes its ascent. As the vine thickens, the tendrils are lost and the vine hangs free.

As the vine nears the top of the tree, it spreads out through the tree canopy. Where the vines emerge into the sunlight, grapes are formed. Sometimes the vines will travel to adjacent trees and anchor several trees together. If one of the joined trees falls it may take the whole bunch with it.

Ragworts

People seem to believe that autumn means that plants are slowing down and ending their growth for the year. While this is true of many plants, there are others busily producing new growth. One of the most noticeable at Blue Jay Barrens is ragworts. This is a cluster of new leaves produced by the Golden Ragwort, Senecio aureus.

I love the look of fresh new leaves and those produced during cool weather seem to exhibit a special vibrancy. Here is an especially attractive leaf, with a deep green color and serrated margin. This leaf is busily capturing the sun’s energy for storage so it will be ready to tall spikes of yellow flowers in the spring.

Some of the summer leaves are still holding on, but they don’t seem to have the resistance to frost displayed by the new growth. I’m sure this leaf, now blemished and in decline, did its service to the plant through the summer months. I wonder if there is actually a chemical difference between cold season leaves and those of summer.

Another of the ragwort clan is Senecio obovatus, Round-leaved Ragwort. This is the host plant of the Northern Metalmark butterfly that I posted about last June. I need this plant to thrive so I can support more butterflies.

Late season growth doesn’t mean there aren’t insects ready to make a meal of the plant. It looks like some type of leaf miner was at work here. A little bit of leaf damage isn’t going to hurt the plant. A complete defoliation event could result in the plant using all of its stored energy in regrowing foliage at the expense of flowers.

Bristle-leaved Sedge

Here’s a nice green patch on the hillside. It looks sort of out of place with all the surrounding brown. This plant is not a grass. This is a prime specimen of Bristle-leaved Sedge, Carex eburnea.

While sedges are more typically found in wet or moist areas, this particular species grows in dry upland limestone areas. It’s a fairly common plant in the more shaded parts of the barrens.

When it grows in colonies, a thick mat of wiry leaves develops. Older plants usually show a mix of dead leaves among the new green leaves, but the green color prevails for most of the year. This clump looks as though someone sank into the ground and left only their hair exposed. I can imagine the whole clump turning to reveal a dirty face.

The leaves are very thin and tough. I think this would make a very attractive ground cover. A solid mat on a steep bank would be nearly indestructible.

It’s not uncommon to see the formation of new clumps of this sedge. It’s not one I’ve tried growing from seed, but I think I may try it next year.

Osage-orange

I seem to have a reputation for killing anything that’s not native. I do spend a lot of time removing those exotic species that have a negative impact on the native ecosystem, but I don’t destroy everything just because this wasn’t its original home. The tree that bore this fruit is the Osage-orange, Maclura pomifera, a good example of a non-native species that I appreciate.

While these fruits are produced in profusion, there’s only a slim chance of the seeds or root sprouts producing any new trees. Because of this, there is little concern of this tree suddenly taking over the countryside.

Few animals seem inclined to struggle through the outer fruit to get at the seeds. Squirrels will occasionally take the time to open these things up. Of course, squirrels seem to enjoy ripping things apart for only a tiny reward. I’m just surprised they didn’t bother to drag it into my yard for dismantling like they do so many other things.

If you find one of these trees, it’s most likely that the tree was planted in that spot. This is a tree that ties to our old farm heritage and was planted because it had value to the farmer. This tree is sometimes called the Hedge Apple and used to be a primary component of the farm hedge row. Osage-orange trees were planted closely spaced in single rows as a field division. Once they grew together, they made an effective livestock barrier.

These thorns are one of the reasons the trees could hold livestock. The thorny branches were a type of natural barb wire.

Wood of the Osage-orange is very rot resistant and was used extensively for fence posts. After being cut, the stump would sprout and produce more posts. The stumps show that this tree was cut pretty high on the trunk. There is a little surface decomposition on the stumps, but the wood is still hard and strong and is impeding the growth of the sprouts. There are a couple of old Osage-orange corner posts at Blue Jay Barrens that may have come from this tree.

Farmers trying to maintain a steady growth of good fence posts would thin the clump of sprouts to encourage tall straight growth. You’re not going to get any good posts out of a tangled mess like this.

If the trunk isn’t straight, you can’t really expect the upper branches to be much better. This tangle reminds me of Medusa’s hair.

This is the type of tree that makes a good post. Annual harvest of new posts to be used in fence repair was a standard practice on farms in the early 1900’s.

Osage-orange has a rather handsome bark. It displays a nice orange color down at the bottom of the fissures.

Cedar Islands

For a place of dry prairies, Blue Jay Barrens certainly has a lot of islands. One common type of island is formed by a single large cedar or a very small group of cedars isolated in the middle of the tall grass prairie.

The cedar forms a pocket of shade that reduces sunlight and lowers the temperature of the ground beneath the tree. This creates a micro-climate with characteristics sometimes drastically different from the surrounding prairie.

The shadow also tracks around the tree as the day progresses. The subtle difference made by this wandering shadow can also create a slightly different climate in the adjacent area.

The population of sun loving prairie plants is diminished by the shade and other species move in to fill the void. Many types of shrubs and flowers grow from the shaded base of the cedar. Native plants tend to prevail in these zones, but a few invasives can also get a start here. A small patch of tall fescue can usually be found on the northern side of these cedars. Being a plant that thrives during the cool time of the year, tall fescue remains green when the prairie grass turns brown.

Interesting collections of mosses and lichens can grow in the tiny cedar thickets. These growths often become quite diverse and form extensive colonies on the dead branches that fall to the ground.

As the tree ages, lower branches begin do die and lose their needles. This allows more sunlight to access the ground beneath the tree and the prairie grasses are able displace the shade tolerant plants. This process can be accelerated by pruning the lower branches from the tree, if you’re willing to destroy those transitional island communities. It’s not something I’ve studied enough to prove, but I think there are some special things occurring in these cedar island communities that are worth saving.

Owl Pellets

I found a couple of owl pellets beneath one of the big cedars. Owl pellets are the regurgitated mass of material that the owl is unable to digest. Normally they are composed of bones packed inside a big hairball. One year I found several pellets containing feathers and Cardinal bills.

Opening an owl pellet is like unwrapping a Christmas gift. You have a general idea of what’s inside, but there’s always the chance you’re going to be surprised. Inside this pellet was a collection of small rodent bones.

The skull is the key to identifying the species. The owl typically kills its prey with a bite to the back of the head, so the skull is seldom intact. It looks like this meal was a Meadow Vole.

Owls like to roost in the upper branches of the large cedars. I’ve been hearing Screech Owls from this cedar grove for several weeks and suspect that to be the source of this pellet. Some years I find hundreds of pellets and other years very few. This isn’t an indication of owl abundance, just of the chance that I’m going to find pellets. Sometimes owls will maintain the same roosting tree for months and other times they seem to change location almost daily.