Orchidaceae

🪲 A day in the St. Francois Mountains with the WGNSS Nature Photography Group

/ Ted C. MacRae / 4 Comments

Lying in the heart of the St. Francois Mountains, Johnson Mountain—like many of the other remnant peaks that form the core of this ancient volcanic system—features igneous glades on the rhyolite exposures at its summit and on its southwestern-facing slopes. While it has not been given any special wilderness designation within the Mark Twain National Forest, the U.S. Forest Service has restricted access in recent years due to increasing damage by ATVs and implemented management practices such as controlled burns to help restore these fragile glades to their presettlement extent and character. Thanks to WGNSS member Casey Galvan, who was able to gain access to these glades with the help of MDC Biologist Josh Wibbenmeyer, who ferried several members of the WGNSS Nature Photography Group up to the summit to explore its glades.

The burn a few years ago at the summit was “controlled” in name only—what had been open woodland extending down the southwest-facing slope was now oak/sumac scrub with numerous oak and pine cadavers standing starkly above the brush with tiny fragments of glade habitat on and around the larger rock exposures. It will take repeated burns and herbicide treatments to further reduce woody encroachment and allow expansion of grasses and forbs beyond their tiny toeholds.

Of course, as an entomologist—and one with special interest in beetles associated with woody plants at that, the cadavers dotting the landscape, many with the bark of their trunks loose and peeling, was an instant attention-getter. Navigating through the scrub on rocky ground was tricky, but I made it to one of the trees (Quercus stellata, post oak), peeled back a chunk of bark and saw two powderpost beetles (family Bostrichidae) belonging to the genus Lichenophanes. While there is a very common species in this genus in Missouri (Lichenophanes bicornis)—usually encountered at lights, these did not strike me as that species due to their smaller size and darker coloration, and photographing one of them at 2–2.5× revealed its true identity as the much less commonly encountered L. armiger. This species further differs from L. bicornis by its less distinctly raised elytral costae and tufts of setae raised and hair-like rather than flattened and scale-like. I have only encountered this species a few times, all at lights, so finding and photographing it in a more natural setting was a nice opportunity. While I photographed the individual, I also noticed a tiny red mite actively crawling about the surface of the beetle (seen at the base of the elytra in the photo below). This was likely not a parasitic mite, but rather a phonetic one—i.e., using the beetle only as a means of transport for its own dispersal.


Lichenophanes armiger under loose trunk bark on trunk of dead Quercus stellata (post oak).

With one success already in hand, I immediately looked for other cadavers with bark to peel in search of beetles or other insects of interest. The second tree I approached seemed to just such, as I noticed a very tiny flat bug (family Aradidae) on the underside of the bark. However, as I positioned the lens over the subject, something about it didn’t look quite right, and zooming in closer revealed the bug, itself, to be a cadaver—partials remnants of a once-living individual that spent its last moments hunkered down under the loose bark. As often is the case when success come quickly, no amount of bark peeling over the next hour or so revealed beetles or other insects of any kind. With each fruitless effort, my attention increasingly wandered toward the foliage of other plants, and I eventually noticed a few patches of Solidago ulmifolia (elm-leaf goldenrod) beginning to bloom. Goldenrods are famously attractive to insects of many types, and the appearance of goldenrod in the landscape is a sure sign that summer has arrived in earnest. Most of the plants were in earlier stages of flowering, and insects observed visiting them were mostly the dreadfully pedestrian European honey bee (Apis mellifera). At one point, I noticed a few plants on which the flowers had not only peaked but were in early fruit development. While early-stage frutescences rarely attract pollinators, I noticed something on them anyway, and a closer look revealed them to be Missouri’s smallest representative of the family Coreidae (leaf-footed bugs), Merocoris distinctus. I don’t encounter this species very often—usually picking up an odd individual or two while sweeping herbaceous vegetation in high-quality prairies, so seeing half a dozen individuals congregating on a few plants was an unusual occurrence for me. Merocoris distinctus and its congeners in other areas are distinctive in their small size but chunky form and with the hind tibiae not expanded and flattened (thus, defying the family’s common name). Instead, their femora are robust and armed with small spines that once can imagine must serve some anti-predatory function. Their presence of fading flowers with developing fruits is logical, however, as members of this family are widely known to feed on the developing seeds and fruits of a variety of plants. Once again, I had the chance to photograph a seldom seen insect species engaging in natural behavior, and the presence of multiple individuals meant that I could continue my attempts with the skittish and flighty adults until, ultimately, I succeeded.


Merocoris distinctus on flower of Solidago ulmifolia (elm-leaf goldenrod).

After a couple of hours, we went back down the mountain a short distance to explore another glade that we’d seen on the way up. The core remnant was larger than what we’d seen up top due to the larger expanse of exposed rhyolite, and we immediately noticed one of the classic icons of igneous glades in Missouri—Trimerotropis saxitilis (lichen grasshopper). I’ve seen these beautiful grasshoppers—gorgeously cloaked in mottled green and black to match the lichen-encrusted rocks on which they sit—on numerous occasions, but I am nevertheless always tempted to photograph them whenever I see them and was preparing to do just that when Josh called out one of the only things that could surpass it in priority—tiger beetle! I knew it most likely was Cicindelidia rufiventris (red-bellied tiger beetle), and carefully approaching revealed this to be the case due to its dark dorsal surface but absence of a sutural row of spots on each elytron and slightly more gracile form that distinguish this species from its much more commonly encountered congener C. punctulata (punctured tiger beetle). This is another species that seems to prefer not only igneous glades but also the limestone/dolomite glades that dot the Ozark Highlands in the southern two-thirds of Missouri. I have photographed it on several occasions but nevertheless snapped a few shots while it gave a classic warm-day demonstration of thermoregulatory behaviors called “stilting” (standing tall on its front legs to raise its body above the thin layer of superheated air immediately above the rock) and “sun-facing” (facing directly toward the sun to minimize the amount of body area exposed to its direct rays).


Cicindelidia rufiventris (red-bellied tiger beetle) “stilting” and “sun-facing” on rhyolite exposure.

A 2-track leading from the glade led to what we hoped would be a renovated glade that was even more extensive, but despite the recent burns the area was still thickly choked with oak/sumac scrub that proved a challenge even to navigate, much less provide open space for glade-restricted plants and their insect associates. It was well past noon, so we regrouped to discuss our next move and decided to go in to town for lunch and then explore nearby Taum Sauk State Park. Casey had in the past mentioned a water pan where several interesting plants could be found, while I knew of a location where Platanthera ciliaris (yellow fringed orchid—the flowers of which are actually a beautiful shade of orange) should be getting close to flowering and that we could check their progress for planned photographs in the coming weeks. Striking stands of Liatris pycnostachya (prairie blazing star) greeted us at the parking lot and portended the even more dazzling displays that would see in many places throughout the park.

Liatris pycnostachya (prairie blazing star).

Our first foray was to the water pan near the high point, and even before reaching it the bright purple of the dense stand of L. pycnostachya colonizing it could be seen glowing through the forest understory. Despite having seen this plant in many places, primarily in prairies and along roadsides, I have never witnessed such a striking mass display of the flowers in peak bloom!

Liatris pycnostachya (prairie blazing star) in water pan atop igneous bedrock in dry oak/hickory forest.

Numerous butterflies flitted amongst the tall purple inflorescences gracefully swaying in the gentle beeezes, the largest and most conspicuous being Speyeria cybele (great spangled fritillary), Papilio troilus (spicebush swallowtail), and a strikingly fresh Papilio glaucus (tiger swallowtail) who danced tantalizingly close around the flowers as if inviting photographs.

Papilio glaucus (tiger swallowtail)

Liatris pycnostachya was not the only purple(ish)-flowered plant colonizing the water pan—Rhexia virginica (winged-stemmed meadow beauty), a denizen of moist acidic habitats, colonized the wetter areas of the water pan, its bright yellow, banana-shaped anthers contrasting nicely with its vivid purple-pink petals.

Rhexia virginica (winged-stemmed meadow beauty).

We then headed out in search of the stand of orchids (which I photographed in magnificent peak bloom last year in early August). Though more common in the southeastern U.S., in Missouri it is extremely rare, and finding the site entailed considerable off-trail bushwhacking to reach the site. At this time of year, before the plants have begun to bloom, we expected finding them would be quite difficult, but to our surprise we found numerous plants with inflorescences well developed and exhibiting tight buds. Some plants even were even beginning to develop color in the buds, and we found a single plant with two open flowers—surely among the earliest first-flower dates for the species in Missouri. Seeing this, we expect peak bloom in the next two to three weeks, and we plan to return to more fully photograph them in all their glory at that time.

Platanthera ciliaris (yellow fringed orchid).

We were able to enjoy slightly easier hiking back in the trail for a short time, during which we saw a robber fly (family Asilidae) posing nicely (and cooperatively) on a rock where David was able to photograph it. I tried to do the same, but it suddenly flew to a nearby stem where, fortunately, it settled back down and allowed me to get close enough for a few photos. The photographs enabled me to not only identify it as a female Efferia aestuans (northern hammertail) but also the reason for its relative cooperativeness—it had captured and was feeding on a much tinier fly!

Efferia aestuans (northern hammertail).

Our off trail adventures resumed quickly, however, when we decided to look for the endangered Asclepias meadii (Mead’s milkweed) in the open woodlands where it has been seen in the past. Hiking through the rough, igneous glades to get to the woodlands was itself difficult, and then searching the dense herbaceous layer of the woodlands for plants no longer in flower even more so. Ultimately, we were not successful in finding the plants, but our efforts were not unrewarded—dense stands of Phemeranthus calycinus (fame flower) with their charming hot-pink flowers daintily dotted the rhyolite exposures, and we saw several Cecropterus lyciades (hoary edge) skippers (family Hesperiidae) visiting the flowers of L. pycnostachya. This very uncommon butterfly resembles the much more commonly encountered Epargyreus clarus (silver-spotted skipper), but it is smaller and has a diffuse frosty spot reaching the edge of the hindwing. The vistas afforded from the glades at Taum Sauk are also among the best that I have seen in Missouri, especially when blazingstar is in full bloom.

Cecropterus lyciades (hoary edge) skippers on flowers of Liatris pycnostachya (prairie blazingstar).

By this time it was late afternoon, and we bushwhacked our way back to the trail. We had a difficult choice to make—turning right meant only about a mile of hiking back to the car; turning left meant having a chance to see the head of Mina Sauk Falls but perhaps closer to two even more difficult miles of hiking back to the car. We chose left! I can’t say it wasn’t worth it, because the chance to take the boots off and soak my legs in the cool water behind the shade of a large boulder was pure enjoyment, but two miles of rough hiking up the steep ascent felt like a Herculean effort—only the promise of water (and ice cream in town!) allowed me to keep the legs moving. Such times may be difficult in the moment but as memories become cherished. I’m already having fond memories of that final ascent!

St. Francois Mountains vista from igneous glades near Mina Sauk Falls.

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2026

🌿 Botanizing w/ the WGNSS Botany Group at Victoria Glades Preserve

/ Ted C. MacRae / Leave a comment

6 Oct 2025—Fall continues to advance in the St. Louis area, and despite very dry conditions during the past two months the fall bloomers continue to make their appearance. One of the area’s most reliable and interesting places to see fall blooms is Victoria Glades south of Hillsboro, where orchids, gentians, and asters anchor a unique suite of fall-blooming plants that are rarely seen elsewhere in our mostly forested environs.

The group chose the Nature Conservancy portion of the complex to explore, as it was in the mesic forest along the riparian corridor below the glade on this side that the first of two orchids—the charmingly diminutive and seldom-seen Spiranthes ovalis (lesser ladies’ tresses)—was expected to be seen in bloom. Despite having recently taken GPS coordinates for the plants, it took several minutes of the group scouring the area around the coordinates before the tiny plants were finally found. Its delicate blooms, fall flowering season, small size, presence of basal and cauline leaves at anthesis, and preference for mesic habitats all serve to identify this species. Missouri’s populations are considered var. erostella, which lack certain essential flowering organs and are, thus, self-pollinated (cleistogamous).

Spiranthes ovalis var. erostellata (lesser ladies’ tresses—family Orchidaceae).

Clambering up and out of the creek bed and onto the open glade, the group found, again with some difficulty, the second orchid we were looking for—Spiranthes magnicamporum (Great Plains ladies’ tresses). Unlike S. ovalis, however, this species is much more commonly seen on dolomitic glades throughout the state, and there have been fall seasons at Victoria Glades featuring spectacular displays of it. Sadly, it does not appear that this will be one of those falls, almost surely because of the near absence of rain in recent months. The first two plants were found under and next to a cut eastern red-cedar, whose cadaver perhaps provided just enough protection to prevent a complete drying of the soil underneath and allowed the two plants to proceed to flowering. Of the nine species of Spiranthes presently known to occur in Missouri, S. magnicamporum is among the showiest due to its robust, often doubly helical inflorescences and relatively large flowers with spreading and arching lateral sepals. It is also among the most fragrant, with a sweetish fragrance of coumarin, which some people liken to vanilla.

Spiranthes magnicamporum (Great Plains ladies’ tresses—family Orchidaceae).

I’ve been visiting Victoria Glades for more than 40 years, yet I continue to see things I haven’t previously notified. This time it was Trichostema coeruleum (pennyroyal bluecurls), a member of the mint family (Lamiaceae). [Note: Trichostema coeruleum was known until recently as Trichostema brachiatum—now a synonym of Trichostema dichotomum.] Unlike Trichostema dichotomum (bluecurls), which prefers glades and other dry habitats with acidic substrates (e.g., sandstone), T. coeruleum prefers such habitats with calcareous substrates (e.g., dolomite). A third species of the genus, Trichostema setaceum (narrow-leaf bluecurls), also occurs in Missouri but is restricted to sand prairies in extreme southeastern Missouri.

Trichostema coeruleum (pennyroyal bluecurls—family Lamiaceae).

Dolomite glades are also the preferred habitat for many species of plants in the family Orobanchaceae, a bizarre family of mostly hemiparasitic plants that derive at least some of their nutrition not from the sun, but by tapping into the roots of nearby plants. Castilleja coccinea (scarlet paintbrush) is perhaps the best known of these, in most years joining the cacophony of wildflowers that form colorful displays across Victoria Glades during spring and early summer. There are, however, several less conspicuous but equally beautiful wildflowers in the family that are restricted in the area almost exclusively to the dolomite glades of Jefferson Co. One of these is Agalinis skinneriana (Skinner’s or pale gerardia/false foxglove), which the group found sporadically still in bloom across the open glade. There are several species of Agalinis in Missouri, some of which are quite common. However, A. skinneriana can usually be recognized by the characteristic habitat and generally upward-facing flowers with spreading to reflexed upper corolla lobes. The plants are also relatively slender and fewer-branched than the more common A. tenuifolia (common gerardia/false foxglove) and A. gattingeri (rough-stemmed gerardia/false foxglove).

Agalinis skinneriana (Skinner’s or pale gerardia/false foxglove—family Orobanchaceae).

Another plant in the family Orobanchaceae that the group saw was Buchnera americana (American bluehearts), represented by a single plant still bearing two worn blossoms. Normally blooming from June through September, plants in full bloom have no look-alikes and are not likely to be confused with anything else. Despite this, the vervain-like fruit-bearing structure of this late straggler fooled the group into at first thinking it was a species of Verbena until its true identity was realized.

Buchnera americana (American bluehearts—family Orobanchaceae).

No group of plants more iconically represents fall than goldenrods (genus Solidago) and true asters (genus Symphyotrichum), and no place allows as many uncommonly seen species to be seen together as the dolomite glades. Three species of goldenrods were seen during the day—the super common Solidago nemoralis (old field goldenrod), the less common but more showy Solidago rigida (stiff goldenrod), and the highly restricted Solidago gattingeri (Gattinger’s goldenrod) (we were not able to locate a fourth species—Solidago radula [rough goldenrod], which we have observed during previous visits on the MDC portion of Victoria Glades). It was the true asters, however, that truly tested our plant identification abilities. Relatively easier are the purple asters, of which we found three species. The first and most abundant was Symphyotrichum oblongifolium (aromatic aster), recognized by its recurved phyllaries and branched habit with narrow, linear leaves that become more numerous and smaller in the upper plant. If one is still in doubt as to its identity, however, one needs only to crush the leaves between the fingers and enjoy its distinct aroma.

Symphyotrichum oblongifolium (aromatic aster—family Asteraceae).

Along the intermittent creek and near the interface with the dry post oak woodland on the north of the glade, we encountered a second species—Symphyotrichum oolentangiense (azure aster). Identification of this species came only near the end of the outing, as a key identifying characteristic of this species—the presence of distinctly petiolate cordate basal leaves that are rough to the touch—was not seen on any of the plants examined before then. At that point, we suspected Symphyotrichum turbinellum (prairie aster) due to the vase-shaped involucres. While that species has been found at Victoria Glades, it is usually a much more highly branched plant associated with more wooded habitats (despite the common name). Finally, we found a plant with such leaves present, albeit dried up, and then another with the leaves present and still fresh to confirm the identification.

Symphyotrichum oolentangiense (sky blue aster—family Asteraceae).

In a small area at the northernmost point of the glade, we found Symphyotrichum sericeum (silky aster). This species is immediately recognizable from afar by the silvery cast to the foliage—this, combined with its highly preferred habitat of glades or dry prairies are usually enough to identify the species, although it is said that the flowers are often more purple and less bluish than other “purple asters.”

Symphyotrichum sericeum (silky aster—family Asteraceae).

As we walked the margins of the glade, the group kept their collective eyes out for Gentiana puberulenta (downy gentian), a striking and rarely seen fall flowering species that has been found on several occasions at Victoria Glades. The species has been seen at Victoria Glades on a few occasions in past years, and the locations of these sightings were scoured thoroughly but without success. Unexpectedly, near the end of the outing, a single plant in flower was located—its perfectly fresh blossom initially hidden from view underneath fallen leaves. One of three members of the genus Gentiana in Missouri, this species is easily differentiated by having the corolla spread open at maturity. Missouriplants.com notes “The rich, deep blue color of the corollas is a striking and uncommon hue among our flora.” A strikingly beautiful final find of the day indeed, and a perfect note on which to gather for lunch at historic Russell House in nearby Hillsboro.

Gentiana puberulenta (downy gentian—Gentianaceae).

For me, no botany outing is strictly about plants (just as no entomology outing is strictly about insects), so there were a few interesting insect observations on the day. On our way to look for Spiranthes ovalis (lesser ladies’ tresses), June noticed a caterpillar on the Ulmus rubra (slippery elm) that we decided must represent Halysidotus tessellaris banded tussock moth).

Halysidota tessellaris (banded tussock moth—family Erebidae) on Ulmus rubra (slippery elm).

Later, after lunch with the group, I returned with the goal of more closely inspecting Physocarpus intermedius (Midwest ninebark) along the glade toeslopes and intermittent creek to see if Dicerca pugionata was out. It has been many years since I’ve seen this species in the fall (but it has also been many years since I’ve really tried to look for it during the fall). I started first with the plants along the moist toeslopes along the west side of the glade, checking several of the now very scraggly-looking plants without success. Along the way, I encountered an especially beautiful Spiranthes magnicamporum, so I paused to take photos. While doing so, I noticed a cryptically-colored crab spider on its blossoms—Mecaphesa asperata (northern crab spider)—the first time I’ve ever seen a spider hunting on the flowers of an orchid.

Mecaphesa asperata (northern crab spider—family Thomisidae) on flowers of Spiranthes magnicamporum (Great Plains ladies’ tresses).

Towards the end of the toeslopes, finally, two D. pugionata plopped onto my sheet. The plant they were on was near the far end of the toeslopes, and if I hadn’t seen any beetles by the time I reached the far end I would have given up the search. Finding them, however, motivated me to hike over to and continue looking along the intermittent creek, where I saw three more beetles in three different spots, the last one—satisfyingly—on the very last plant I checked before the creek disappears into denser woodland.

Dicerca pugionata (ninebark borer—family Buprestidae) beaten from living Physocarpus intermedius (Midwest ninebark).

Mission accomplished, I enjoyed one more leisurely stroll across the glade before calling it another (successful) day in the field.

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2025

1986 Florida Field Trip Report

/ Ted C. MacRae / Leave a comment

Ted C. MacRae & Rev. James M. Sullivan1

Fr. James Sullivan (left) and Ted MacRae (right) stand under a banyan tree in Key Largo, Florida, 9 May 1986 (photographer unknown).

In Spring 1986, the Rev. James Sullivan (Fr. Sullivan to those who knew him) and I made a two-week trip to Florida with the objective to explore as much of the state as we could—from the Panhandle to the Keys! My goal, of course, was to collect beetles2, especially woodboring beetles in the families Buprestidae and Cerambycidae (it was only my third trip outside of Missouri for such purpose), while Fr. Sullivan’s was to identify and document as many plant species as possible. This apparent dichotomy in interests was not as clean as it may seem—as an entomologist interested in host plant relationships, the chance to spend time in the field with as accomplished a botanist as Fr. Sullivan was too good to pass up, and Fr. Sullivan’s passion for studying insect associates of the plants he studied greatly aligned our interests. My memories of that trip have faced in the nearly 40 years since, jogged only by the specimens I collected now residing in my cabinet and two trays of 35 mm slides taken with an Olympus OM10 SLR film camera. Fortunately, Fr. Sullivan was more diligent than I in journaling his observations during that trip, a copy of which he gave to me. This report is an attempt to summarize our observations using these materials. In his journal, Fr. Sullivan made the following disclaimer: “Plant determinations in these notes must be regarded as tentative: We have not had the use of a complete flora for any portion of the State of Florida. We have been as precise as possible with the use of several less complete sources. ★This star symbol indicates plant determinations that were later confirmed by the use of the Flora of Tropical Florida or by other adequate keys.”

[Note: names for most of the plants included in this report were confirmed by Fr. Sullivan, the primary exceptions being those indicated with question marks (?). As a result, I have omitted use of the star symbol in this report. Also note that plant taxonomy has likely changed immensely during the past 39 years. Scientific names, common names, and plant families given are those we used at the time, and only in a few cases have they been harmonized with current nomenclature (my notes in [square brackets]). An asterisk (*) denotes plants and insects that were also photographed.]

We left St. Louis on the morning of April 28 with the goal of spending the night in Montgomery, Alabama. The next morning, true to form, Fr. Sullivan got up early to explore the area around the hotel before continuing the drive south. He noted two plants: Cirsium horridulum and Sapium sebiferum (Euphorbiaceae), the latter a fast-growing deciduous tree known as Chinese tallow and native to eastern Asia. All parts of the tree emit a milky white sap when damaged, which is toxic and can cause gastrointestinal upset if ingested. As we continued south, we noted the first Spanish moss (Tilandsia usneoides) draping the trees along Hwy 281. The growth was very well-developed, leading Fr. Sullivan to speculate that it also probably occurred north of Montgomery along I-65 but that we missed it due to our nighttime arrival.

Later in the day we arrived at our first destination, Torreya State Park in the Florida Panhandle, home of the extremely rare Florida nutmeg (Torreya taxifolia*) tree that grows only on the bluffs along the Apalachicola River. We explored the heavily forested hills and ravines of the area and found examples of this plant alongside the road near the entrance to the campground. However, we documented a diverse list of other plants including Acer barbatum [= A. saccharum ssp. floridanum] (Florida maple), Actaea pachypoda, Amorpha fruticosa, Aralia spinosa, Ascyrum sp., Callicarpa americana, Calycanthus floridus, Calycarpon lyoni, Cnidoscolus stimulosus*, Conopholis americana, Conradina canescens*(Lamiaceae), Croomia pauciflora* (Stemonaceae), Decumaria barbara, Dirca palustris, Erigeron strigosus, Erythrina herbacea*, Euonymus americanus*, Lonicera sempervirens*, Halesia sp., Hydrangea quercifolia*, Ilex opaca, Itea virginica*, Lygodium japonicum, Mitchella repens, Myrica serifera, Onoclea sensibilis*, Opuntia humifusa*, Rhaphidophyllum hystrix (needle palm), Ruellia carolinensis*, Sebastiana fruticosa* (Sebastianbush, Euphorbiaceae), Spiranthes praecox*, Viburnum sp., and Wahlenbergia marginata. Insect collecting consisted primarily of an assortment of longhorned beetles attracted to ultraviolet (UV) lights at night.

After two nights at Torreya State Park, we traveled further down the peninsula along the central spine to Highlands Hammock State Park, one of the oldest state parks in Florida protecting 9,000 acres of old-growth cypress swamp and oak hammock. We first explored the Wild Orange Grove Trail (noting wild orange trees as well as our first alligator!) but moved to other areas of the park over the next two days. We noted the occurrence of three species of palms here: Rhaphidophyllum hystrix (needle palm), which lacks the leaf midrib of and has fewer leaf divisions than Sabal palmetto (cabbage palm), the most common palm and distinguished by a strong leaf midrib, and Serenoa repens (saw palmetto) with its saw-toothed petiole edges. We repeatedly saw the tortoise beetle Hemisphaerota cyanea on the leaves of S. palmetto. A nice variety of longhorned beetles was also collected here, including the Florida endemic Typocerus flavocinctus and several lamiines at UV lights at night. A blister beetle (family Meloidae) similar to our Nemognatha nemorensis was common on the flowers of Aster reticulatus* and Pterocaulon pycnostachyum* (both Asteraceae), and on flowers of Cirsium horridulum we saw the leaf-footed bug Acanthocephala terminalis* (Coreidae). Other plants that Fr. Sullivan noted include Abrus precatorius*, Ardisia crenulata* (crenate berry bush, Myrsinaceae), Asimina pygmaea* (?), Bacopa sp.*, Bidens pilosa*, Callicarpa americana*, Cuthbertia graminea (?), Emilia sonchilfolius, Eriocaulon sp.*, Erythrina herbacea, Hypericum sp.*, Ilex cassine, Ilex glabra, Lachnocaulon anceps, Lygodesmia aphylla*, Lyonia lucida*, Mikania scandens, Oxalis violacea* (?), Persea borbonia, Polygala lutea*, Schrankia microphylla*, Tephrosia chrysophylla, Urena lobata, Utricularia sp.*, and Xyris sp.* Fr. Sullivan also noted in his journal a list of a dozen “rare” birds such (e.g., cardinal, catbird, crow, etc.!).

Our next destination was outside the northwestern limits of Everglades National Park at Collier-Seminole State Park, which lies partly within the great mangrove swamp of South Florida (one of the largest mangrove swamps in the world) and covering one of three original stands of royal palm (Roystonea elata [= Roystonea regia]) in Florida (the park was previously called Royal Palm Hammock). We primarily explored the Royal Palm Hammock Nature Trail and along the water’s edge around the boat basin, where Rhizophora mangle* (red mangrove) lined the edges of the salt marsh. Two species of Solanum were observed, primarily S. erianthum (potato tree) but also S. donianum*, and we noted the pleasant fragrance of a Eugenia sp. that escaped identification. Bursera simaruba (“tourist tree”), with its distinctive peeling bark, was also common here. We noted Baccharis halimifolia heavily infested with the leaf beetle Trirhabda bacharidus*, saw Heliconius charitonius butterflies on the wing, and observed a cluster of young seed bug nymphs* (Lygaeidae), likely one of the milkweed-associated species, on a vining species of milkweed. Deer flies (family Tabanidae) were a real problem for both of us, and we had to use head nets (Fr. Sullivan even resorted to wearing his London Fog jacket!). Other plants documented included Acrostichum sp., Alternanthera sp. poss. philoxeroides (Amaranthaceae), Batis maritima, Bidens pilosa var. radiata, Blechum brownei, Borrichia frutescens*(sea daisy), Commelina diffusa, Dicliptera assurgens*, Dicromena sp.* (white-bracted sedge, Cyperaceae), Eugenia sp.*, Ipomoea alba (moon flower), Ipomoea sagittata*, Passiflora pallens, Pithecellobium unguis-cati (cat claw), Pluchia odorata (camphor weed), Polygala grandiflora var. angustifolia, Psychotria undata*, Solidago sp.*, Triodanus sp., Urena lobata*, and Zanthoxylum fagara (lime prickly ash). Similar to previous localities, a diversity of longhorned beetles were attracted to UV lights at night.

After two days at Collier-Seminole, we drove east along the Tamiami Trail, noting the magnificent stands of bald cypress (Taxodium distichum) in the Big Cypress Swamp Preserve and seeing the first water hyacinths (Eichhornia crassipes) in bloom. We also saw Australian pines (several species in the genus Casuarina)—angiosperms rather than gymnosperms. Its needles are much longer than true pine (genus Pinus), and the trees appeared very dark green as seen from a distance. Eventually we landed at John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park on Key Largo. Most people visit this park to dive and explore the spectacular living reefs of the Florida Keys; however, we had more terrestrial objectives. We began by exploring the coral limestone woodland along the Wild Tamarind Trail, where Metopium toxiferum *was common along the woodland border (and we took care not to touch!). A large ichneumonid wasp* (Ichneumonidae) was seen perched in the understory, and we noted the impressively oversized female of the spider Nephilia clavipes* being courted by an equally strikingly diminutive male. Lysiloma latisiliqua* was abundant in the woodland, as was Bursera simaruba* its bark red and peeling like a sunburned tourist! Coccoloba uvifera was also abundantly fruiting, and other plants seen include Alternanthera sp., Conocarpus erecta var. sericea, Schinus terebinthifolius*, and an unidentified composite (either Eupatorium villosum or Garberia sp.). Along the Mangrove Trail we saw (of course) not only red mangrove Rhizophora mangle*) but also black mangrove (Avicennia germinans*, Avicenniaceae) and white mangrove (Languncularia racemosa, Combretaceae). These three plants are placed in three unrelated families, yet all show a high degree of fidelity to mangrove ecosystems. At a Persea americana* orchard in the adjunct Shaw Property, we saw Hamelia patens* in bloom and Lysiloma latisiliqua growing around the orchard’s edge. Other plants seen in the area include Abutilon sp., Batis sp.*, Eupatorium villosum* (?), Gaillardia pulchella*, Heliotropium angiospermum, Heliotropium curassavicum, Hibiscus tiliaceus, Melanthera sp., and Rivina humilis*.

Our plan the following day was to continue down the length of the Keys, making stops at a few selected places along the way before spending the night in Key West. At our first stop on Lower Matecumbe Key, we noted Avicennia germinans, Eustoma exaltatum*, and Polygala baldwini (as well as a Great Blue Heron) and then continued southwestward to Long Key State Recreation Area [now Long Key State Park]. Most people visit Long Key for its beaches and fishing, but we came to the preserve to explore the endangered coastal dune ecosystem that it protects. Few insects were seen, but a number of interesting, mostly highly salt-tolerant, plant species were seen. These include Abutilon sp., Argemone mexicana*, Cassasia clusiifolia*, Chrysobalanus icaco, Ipomoea pes-caprae, Lantana involucrate, Manilkara bahamensis* (wild dilly, Sapotaceae), Scaevola plumieri* (inkberry, Goodeniaceae), Solanum diphyllum, and Suriana maritima* (bay cedar). We finished the day at Key Deer Preserve on Big Pine Key, a sanctuary for the smallest subspecies of white-tailed deer in North America. We did not see any deer, but we did see some interesting plants. Byrsonima cuneata* (Malphigiaceae) was common here, as was Croton linearis. Along the Nature Trail we saw the orchid Bletia purpurea* (pale pink) and also recorded Aletris sp., Chrysophyllum oliviforme (Sapotaceae), Dichromena sp., Ernodia littoralis*, Metopium toxiferum, Pithecellobium sp., Polygala verticillate (?), and “thatch palms” (plus a hissing alligator!).

The next two days were spent at Everglades National Park, where we began our visit by exploring the Long Pine Key Nature Trail, where Cladium jamaicensis* (sawgrass) and Taxodium distichum* dominated the landscape. We noted that it was easy to pass one’s fingers over the sawgrass blade edge in one direction, but not so easy in the other! It was here that I found what I considered a real prize—my first ever bumelia borer (Plinthocoelium suavelons)! I also collected the very colorful Trichodes apivorus on the flowers of Sabal palmetto. Fr. Sullivan had even more success with the plants—so much, in fact, that we were only able to explore the east end of the trail. Several plants belonging to largely tropical plant familys were seen, including Dodonaea viscosa (varnish leaf, Sapindaceae), Tatrazygia bicolor* (Melastomataceae), and Dipholis salicifolia (willow bustic, Sapotaceae). Polygala balduinii (or a similar species) and an unidentified Buchnera sp. were common. The recorded list of other plant species seen was diverse: Asclepias lanceolata*, Baccharis sp., Byrsonima cuneata, Calopogon sp.* [likely C. tuberosus var. simpsonii], Croton linearis, Dichromena sp., Heliotropium polyphyllum var, polyphyllum (H. leavenworthii ) (Boraginaceae), Jacquemontia jamaicensis, Lobelia glandulosa*, Melanthera angustifolia (Asteraceae), Myrica cerifera, Myrsine guianensis, Passiflora sp.*, Persea bordonia, Piriqueta caroliniana, Psychotria nervosa, Rhus sp., Sabatia sp. poss. brevifolia*, and Stillingia sylvatica ssp. tenuis (Euphorbiaceae). We returned again to Long Pine Key Nature Trail the following day to explore the west end near Pine Glades Lake, finding many of the same plants recorded the previous day but also Ageratum littorale (?), Bletia purpurea, Justicia ovata var. lanceolata*, Lippia stoechadifolia, and Morinda royoc. From there we moved on to the P.K. Nature Trail, where Cynanchum blodgettii was seen twining over much of the vegetation—including other plants of its own species!. Fr. Sullivan spent a good deal of time studying a plant found growing at the edge of Pine Glades Lake, which he presumed to be a species of Lippia that exhibited pleated leaves with matching teeth (leading him to call it “corduroy lippia” or “pleated lippia”). Eventually he settled (and later confirmed) the species as Lippia stoechadifolia, a Neotropical species limited in the U.S. to south Florida and the Keys. Other plants observed included Angadenia berterii, Urechites lutea, and (my favorite) Zamia floridana* [likely Z. integrifolia var. silvicola].

Back at Key Largo near Tarpon Bay (below our motel), Fr. Sullivan continued exploring the plants, especially the mangroves. He noted that Avicennia has “dewdrops” but that the other mangroves do not. This relates to the processes used by the plant to eliminate excess salt, which in Avicennia involves salt water “perspiration” that dries in the heat of the day (indeed, the residue of salt flecks is useful in distinguishing Avicennia from the other mangroves) but in Rhizophora is done by accumulating salt in the oldest leaves before they turn yellow and drop. He also noted that Avicennia and Rhizophora can be distinguished by color; Avicennia, which normally grow a little farther from the water, are closer to gray-green, while Rhizophora are closer to yellow-green. Tridax procumbens was a common roadside weed around the motel—its flowers and fluffy seedheads rise on long scapes, as if leafless, but are actually attached to the sprawling, hairy stems, which bear many deeply cleft leaves with opposite arrangement. He also noted Morinda royoc growing not only in the woods but also hedgerows. It is like Psychotria [both species are in the Rubiaceae], but without the large, nervy leaves. The fruits aggregate to look like large, yellowish mulberries. Hamelia patens grows right along the highway here, and several large Solanum shrubs with stellate trichomes on the leaves and white flowers were seen that may be a complex of species including S. donianum, S. verbascifolium, S. erianthum, or yet another species.

On May 10, the field visits were over, and it would take two days of driving to return to St. Louis. Even beginning the drive home, however, did not stop Fr. Sullivan from botanizing. During a stop at the drawbridge on Hwy 1 between Key Largo and the mainland, Fr. Sullivan collected Stachytarpheta jamaicensis, its flower tubes emerging from upward pointing, elongate triangular bracts, and its leaves being coarsely dentate. Also, from the highway in northern Florida, we saw what appeared to be the frequent occurrence of blooming Asimina. These were low plants with white flowers and leaves present. Spending several days in south Florida also gave Fr. Sullivan a chance to contemplate the different hammock habitats that we had visited, and he noted the following: “A hammock is basically a hardwood forest. A hammock in Florida has a significance parallel to that of a glade in Missouri: it is a relief from the ordinary situation. In the Everglades hammocks take the form of “hillocks”: The forest seems to build itself above the level of the sawgrass wetlands. In Highlands County, on the other hand, the hammocks occupy depressions in the topography. It is natural for the pinelands to burn with some degree of regularity, but the wet depressions are protected from most fires. Fire actually helps Pinus to have a competitive edge (since the needles make good tinder and the resin burns so hot, the pines contribute to their own survival situation), but in the wet depressions the broadleaf hardwoods are able to take over. The State Parks often feature the hammocks. As we go farther south, the hardwood species become more tropical. We have seen a lot of Bursera simaruba, a hammock feature, but have yet to see Ceratiola ericoides, which is more a representative of the norm for this state. Visiting Mahogany Hammock in the Everglades we learn that it is protected from sawgrass fires by a natural moat surrounding it. The moat results as limestone strata are eaten away by the hardwood-produced acids.”

1 Deceased April 15, 2025.

2 Permits for collecting beetles were obtained from the Florida Department of Agriculture and the National Park Service.

© Ted C. MacRae 2025

Botanizing at Hawn State Park

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Pinus echinata (shortleaf pine) woodland at Hawn State Park.

Nestled in the northern foothills of the St. Francois Mountains lies one of Missouri’s most remarkable of places—Hawn State Park. I have written about this place on several occasions and visited even more often, yet I never tire of exploring its sandstone canyons, rhyolite shut-ins, and stately pine forests. As such, I was happy to see it as the selected destination for the WGNSS Botany Group Monday Walk.

A partially frozen Pickle Creek meanders through Hawn State Park.

It was a chilly winter morning when the group met at the picnic area parking lot, and after a bit of discussion to orient ourselves on the plants we might see, we crossed the foot bridge over Pickle Creek to explore the habitats off the Whispering Pines Trail. Almost immediately (in fact, even before completely crossing the bridge), we noticed Alnus serrulata (smooth alder) lining the edges of the creek banks. Unlike many trees, A. serrulata is easy to recognize during winter by virtue of its persistent female cones and newly-formed male catkins. Alnus serrulata is one of five species in Missouri belonging to the family Betulaceae—all five of which occur together here in Hawn State Park (and, in fact, can be found within feet of each other). In the case of this species, the female cones are unique, the male catkins are green and red and occur during winter in clumps, and the winter buds are red with two scales.

Alnus serrulata (smooth alder) – persistent female cones.
Alnus serrulata (smooth alder) – newly-emerged male catkins.
Alnus serrulata (smooth alder) – winter buds.

Immediately after crossing the bridge, we saw the second betulaceous species on slightly higher ground—Corylus americana (American hazelnut). Like A. serrulata, this species is usually a small tree, but it lacks the persistent cones during winter, has more brownish male catkins that may be clumped, especially at the branch tips, but also tend to occur singly along the length of the branch, and has brownish, rounded winter buds and noticeably fuzzy twigs.

Corylus americana (American hazelnut) – male catkins.
Corylus americana (American hazelnut) – winter bud.
Corylus americana (American hazelnut) – male catkins.

Entering the mixed pine-oak forest (and pondering Fr. Sullivan’s oak ID quiz—which turned out to be Quercus coccinea, or scarlet oak), Kathy noticed the persistent fruiting stalks of one of our native terrestrial orchids—Goodyera pubescens (downy rattlesnake plantain). Normally, this orchid is noticed during winter by virtue of its striking white-veined green leaves, but in this case they were completely hidden under leaf litter. Had it not been for the fruiting stalk, we would never have noticed its presence. Hawn State Park has a healthy population of these orchids, and hopefully the fruits of this individual will bear an abundance of its tiny (spore-sized) seeds.

Goodyera pubescens (downy rattlesnake plantain) – last season’s fruiting stalk.

Continuing our off-trail bushwhacking, we eventually reached a series of sandstone canyons that promised not only spectacular ice formations from their constant moisture drip, but the potential for seeing plants that rely on the cool, shaded, moist, acidic nooks and crannies they offer.

Sandstone ledges.

Two fern species were seen. The first was Asplenium platyneuron (ebony spleenwort)—not uncommon and distinguished by the dark, reddish-brown, glossy stipe and rachis (on fertile fronds) with simple pinnate leaves and alternately-arranged leaflets with a basal auricle (ear-lobe). Two columns of elongated sori (spore-bearing structures) oriented diagonally to the central veins can be found on their lower surface of the leaflets. Dryopteris marginalis (marginal wood fern) was also found on the sandstone ledges. This fern is most easily identified by the location of its sori on fertile fronds, which occur along the margins of its subleaflets (some other less common species will have the sori placed more interiorly).

Asplenium platyneuron (ebony spleenwort) – lower leaf surface of fertile frond.
Dryopteris marginalis (marginal wood fern) – lower leaves of fertile frond.
Dryopteris marginalis (marginal wood fern) – lower surface of lower leaves of fertile frond.

The most exciting find on the sandstone ledges was Mitchella repens (partridge berry). This member of the Rubiaceae (same family as coffee) is characteristic of sandstone canyons and ledges and occurs in Missouri only in a few counties in the southeastern part of the state where this habitat exists. The plant is unmistakable and easily identified, especially when in fruit. Interestingly, each of its bright red berries is actually a fusion of two fruits, as evidenced by the pair of minute, persistent calyces at the tip.

Mitchella repens (partridge berry).
Mitchella repens (partridge berry) – fruit showing paired calyces.

Back on-trail, the group focused on identifying the many different tree species along the trail (Quercus coccinea was dominant). One small “tree” had us stumped, however, it’s giant terminal bud with small lateral buds clustered nearby seemingly suggesting oak—until we noted the curious whorl at the branch node and, on a subsequently-seen individual, persistent fruit capsules that immediately identified it as Rhododendron prinophyllum (early azalea). Another lover of acidic pine woodlands, this species is restricted in Missouri to high-quality habitats in the Ozark Plateau, and Hawn State Park has some of the finest populations to be found.

Rhododendron prinophyllum (early azalea) – winter bud.
Rhododendron prinophyllum (early azalea) – branch node.
Rhododendron prinophyllum (early azalea) – last season’s fruiting capsules.

As the group ascended the trail and began pondering whether to turn around, the characteristic leaves of a small saxifrage were seen at the base of an oak tree. Micranthes virginiensis (early saxifrage, Virginia saxifrage) shows a preference for rocky acid soils and reaches the western limit of its distribution in Missouri, where it is limited to a few counties in the Ozarks. A similar but much smaller species, Micranthes texana (Texas saxifrage) can be found in sandstone glades in western Missouri.

Micranthes virginiensis (early saxifrage, Virginia saxifrage).
Micranthes virginiensis (early saxifrage, Virginia saxifrage) – last season’s fruiting stalk.

Returning to Pickle Creek, the group focused on the remaining three species of Betulaceae found in Missouri—and Hawn State Park, all growing in the immediate vicinity of the foot bridge. The three species—Betula nigra (river birch), Carpinus caroliniana (American hornbeam, musclewood, blue beech), and Ostrya virginiana (American hophornbeam), all have numerous subtle characters that distinguish them from the other two members of the family (Alnus and Corylus), but in winter they are most easily recognized by their bark. The flaky, peeling, cinnamon-brown bark of B. nigra is the most distinctive and cannot be mistaken for anything else. This contrasts completely with the smooth, gray, sinuous look of C. caroliniana (which I can’t help but stroke whenever I see it—should I be admitting that!?). In between is the rough, shredded, brownish appearance of O. virginiana (which is further distinguished from C. americana by its pointed rather than rounded buds).

Betula nigra (river birch) – bark.
Carpinus caroliniana (American hornbeam, musclewood, blue beech) – bark.
Ostrya virginiana (American hophornbeam) – bark.

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2022

Botanizing Babler State Park

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After missing a week due to inclement weather, the WGNSS Botany Group resumed their weekly Monday walk schedule with a visit to nearby Babler State Park in western St. Louis Co. One of the larger of Missouri’s state parks at nearly 2500 acres, it was initially made possible through the generosity of the family of St. Louis surgeon Edmond A. Babler nearly 100 years ago—barely 20 years after the State Park System was created. For this outing, the group walked the Virginia Day Memorial Nature Trail.

Members of the WGNSS Botany Group (L–R): Rich Thoma, Tom Buescher, Michael Laschober, George Van Brunt, Jennifer Judd, and John Oliver.

The dead of winter in an exurban park can be a challenging situation for seeing unusual plants. In such cases, one is often better served by looking more closely at the familiar to sharpen ID skills and improve ability to identify plants at any stage of growth rather than only when good characters are visible. An example of this with the red oaks. In our area, Quercus shumardii (Shumard’s oak) and Quercus velutina (black oak) are among the most commonly occurring red oaks in our generally dry-mesic upland deciduous forests. They can, however, be difficult to distinguish from one another, as both have highly variable leaves that differ most reliably in subtle characters of pubescence on the lower leaf surface. Without a microscope or strong hand lens, one must often resort to examining many leaves and deciding with which form the preponderance agree.

Quercus shumardii is perhaps the more commonly encountered of the two in our area and exhibits almost no habitat fidelity. It can be found not only in dry, rocky upland woods and borders of glades, but also in valleys and along banks of larger streams and river bottoms. So different in appearance are trees found in the driest situations (e.g., along the margins of glades) from those occurring in moister situations that it is difficult to believe they are the same species. Nevertheless, it can usually be distinguished by the apically flaring leaf lobes. During winter, leaves may be harder to come by, and the small, cone-shaped, brown buds are admittedly nondescript. Basically, in a woods dominated by the two species, Q. shumardii is distinguished by the fact that its buds are anything but the highly distinctive buds of Q. velutina!

Quercus shumardii (Shumard’s oak) – winter buds.

On the other hand, Q. velutina lacks the tolerance for both the very wet and very dry situations that Q. shumardii can handle. In Missouri—at the western limit of its distribution, it is most often found on north or east facing slopes where moisture is adequate but not excessive. Its leaves can be as variable as those of Q. shumardii (although not presenting in distinct forms depending on habitat), but its buds could not be more distinctive—large, distinctly 5-angled, and covered with gray pubescence. In winter, fallen branches are immediately recognizable due to the conspicuousness of the terminal bud clusters.

Quercus velutina (black oak) – winter buds.
Quercus velutina (black oak) – winter buds.

The day was not spent completely focused on winter tree buds—some greenery was seen in the richer, moister low areas along the trail in the form of Aplectrum hyemale (putty root, Adam and Eve orchid). These plants are far more commonly observed during winter than summer due to the appearance then of their distinctive pinstriped, pleated single basal leaf—oftentimes the only green thing present. The leaves disappear in spring, replaced by the much less conspicuous flower stalks.

Aplectrum hyemale (putty root, Adam and Eve orchid).

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2022

Crane flies are insects…

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Tipularia discolor (cranefly orchid).

…but craneflies are plants—specifically, orchids, or Tipularia discolor (cranefly orchid).* This past August, the Webster Groves Nature Study Society (WGNSS) Botany Group traveled to the Mississippi Lowlands of southeastern Missouri to look for two species of native orchids, this being one of them. They were not easy to find—even with a location tip, it took a group effort to find them. But persistence paid off, and we found a patch with about 20 individual plants, most in full bloom and a few slightly past.

*One little known “rule” about common names is that the adjective and object (in this case, “crane” being the adjective” and “fly” being the “object”) are separated when the object is true and combined when the object is false or used together as an adjective for another object. Thus, flies in the family Tipulidae are called “crane flies,” because they truly are flies, while orchids of the genus Tipularia are called “cranefly” orchids because they are truly not flies and together form an adjective. Butterfly, dragonfly, and ladybug are examples of straight false objects (thus, for which the common names are compound words), while honey bee, house fly, and assassin bug are further examples of true objects (thus, for which the common names are not compound words).

Tipularia discolor (cranefly orchid).

Everybody who has ever seen this orchid talks about how hard they are to see (despite their relatively tall stature), yet nothing prepares you for just how remarkably difficult they are to see until you encounter them yourself for the first time! I believe this is because of the environment they are in—a dimly-lit forest with dappled light—combined with the lack of contrasting colors on the plants themselves.

Tipularia discolor (cranefly orchid).

This species was not reported from Missouri until 1983, relatively recent, and while for a time it remained known in state only from the southeastern lowlands, it has more recently been reported from several counties across southern Missouri as far northwest as Hickory County. Considering how difficult the plants can be to see, it is tempting to think that this is simply a case of underreporting, but to the contrary the same phenomenon has been observed in Illinois and other states at the edge of its range, leading most botanists to conclude that the species is actually expanding its range. Of course, why this is occurring is anybody’s guess, but it is somewhat satisfying to see at least one native orchid doing well while many others are in decline.

Known distribution of Tipularia discolor (cranefly orchid). Source: BONAP (2014).

I was extremely fortunate in that I did not end up with a bad case of poison ivy as a result of photographing these plants!

Photo by Kathy Bildner.

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2021

Botanizing (again!) at Victoria Glades Conservation Area

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By pure coincidence, the WGNSS Botany Group decided to visit Victoria Glades for today’s weekly field trip—just one day after I’d made my own solo visit, so for me a bonus visit! You might think that would result in me seeing the same things that I’d already seen, but unlike yesterday’s solo outing, I had the benefit of multiple pairs of eyes and solid botanical expertise accompanying me and directing my attention to several new-to-me plants.

A clump of sunflowers (Helianthus sp.) caught our attention even before we left the parking lot. Our initial impression was Jerusalem artichoke (H. tuberosus), but it lacked the alternate uppermost leaves usually found in that species. Nevertheless, when we ran it through the key and came to a choice between this species or woodland sunflower (H. hirsutus), we decided that it must be H. tuberosus. As we walked by another clump of the plants, we noticed the first insect of the day—a still-bedded-down helmeted squash bug (Euthochtha galeator), a type of leaffooted bug (family Coreidae)—on one of the older flower heads.

Helmeted squash bug (Euthochtha galeator).

On the glade proper (MDC “west” side), the group was just as excited to immediately see the Great Plains ladies’-tresses orchids (Spiranthes magnicamporum) in bloom as I was yesterday, and I couldn’t resist the urge to take just a few more photos of two of impressively flowering specimens. We also noted the now brilliant red flowering dogwoods (Cornus florida) that anchored the small woody hammocks dotting the glade and were surprised to find a total of eight “tree” species taking refuge in the hammocks, the others being Carolina buckthorn (Rhamnus caroliniana), deciduous holly (Ilex decidua), eastern red-cedar (Juniperus virginiana), dwarf hackberry (Celtis tenuifolia), sugar maple (Acer saccharum), gum bumelia (Sideroxylon lanuginosum), and persimmon (Diospyros virginiana).

Great Plains ladies’-tresses orchid (Spiranthes magnicamporum).
Great Plains ladies’-tresses orchid (Spiranthes magnicamporum).

We made our way to the interface between the glade proper and a large dry post oak woodland hammock, where prairie gentian (Gentiana puberulenta) was found last year. As we walked, we got into a discussion about the pronunciation of the species name for Solidago gattingeri (Gattinger’s goldenrod). While “guh-TIN-jur-eye” may follow general guidelines for pronouncing latinized names, these guidelines do not apply to patronyms—i.e., scientific names derived from the name of a person, and for which the pronunciation of the person’s name is conserved in its latinized form. Since S. gattingeri was named after the German-born botanist Augustin Gattinger (pronounced “GAH-ting-er”) (1825–1903), the latinized form, which has an “i” added to the end of the name, and is thus pronounced “GAH-ting-er-eye.

Reaching the interface and searching for the gentian would prove fruitless, but it was not without its consolations. The first of these was one of the blue asters, which we eventually determined to be azure aster (Symphyotrichum oolentangiense)—distinguished by its rough leaves with the basal ones arrowhead-shaped. This species sparked a further conversation about how to pronounce the double-o at the beginning of the name. In latinized nomenclature, all vowels must be pronounced (except the diphthongs ae and oe, both of which are pronounced “ee”). The specific epithet derives from the Olentangy River in Ohio, but the person who named the species misspelled it, adding an extra “o” at the beginning. Unfortunately, the rules of nomenclature demand that original spellings, even those considered misspellings, be conserved (unless certain special conditions are met), thus, the specific epithet must begin with a double-o, and both of them must be pronounced. Further, since it is derived from a place name, the pronunciation of “Olentangy” also must be preserved. As a result, the species name is pronounced “oh-OH-len-TAN-jee-in-see.”

Azure aster (Symphyotrichum oolentangiense) inflorescences.
Azure aster (Symphyotrichum oolentangiense) inflorescence.
Azure aster (Symphyotrichum oolentangiense) basal leaves.

As we continued searching the glade-woodland interface, we encountered a healthy little patch of rough goldenrod (Solidago radula). Only a few of the plants bore inflorescences in good condition, but the plants were nevertheless recognizable by their small size and numerous rigid, scabrous, serrate leaves. We were pleasantly surprised to find this fairly conservative species (CC = 6), and everybody agreed that the species name is pronounced “RAD-yew-luh.”

Rough goldenrod (Solidago radula) inflorescence.
Rough goldenrod (Solidago radula) leaf.
Rough goldenrod (Solidago radula) stem/leaves.

When we reached the area where we were certain we should find prairie gentian, we instead found silky aster (Symphyotrichum sericeum)—their silvery leaves glistening in the sun and branchy stems mostly devoid of lower leaves making them visible and recognizable even from afar. This highly conservative species (CC = 9) is restricted to only a handful of states in the upper Midwest.

Silky aster (Symphyotrichum sericeum) inflorescence.
Silky aster (Symphyotrichum sericeum) upper leaves.
Silky aster (Symphyotrichum sericeum).

Once satisfied that we’d done our due diligence in our search for prairie gentian, we headed towards the top of the knoll where stiff sunflower (Helianthus pauciflorus) and rough white lettuce (Nabalus asper) have been observed in recent years. The sunflowers were found easily, though all in the apparently expanding patch were past bloom, but it took careful searching and reference to a GPS reading to find what amounted to just two, post-bloom white lettuce individuals. This latter species has a distribution centered roughly across Missouri and Iowa and is fairly conservative (CC = 7).

Rough white lettuce (Nabalus asper) post-bloom inflorescences.

As we headed back towards the parking lot, we passed through a peninsula of dry post oak woodland, giving us the opportunity to see yet another blue aster, this one being prairie aster (Symphyotrichum turbinellum). This is another fairly conservative species (CC = 6) whose distribution centers over Missouri and extends to only a few surrounding states. The elliptic leaves, branched habit, and “vase-shaped” involucre were all clues to its identity.

Prairie aster (Symphyotrichum turbinellum) inflorescence.
Prairie aster (Symphyotrichum turbinellum) involucre.
Prairie aster (Symphyotrichum turbinellum) leaf.

By then, only John and Kathy remained and were ready to call it a day, but I had a hankering to visit the TNC “east” side to check the ninebarks (Physocarpus olulifolius intermedius) that grow along the toeslopes at the interface between the glade proper and the riparian woodland below to look for Dicerca pugionata—a spectacular jewel beetle (family Buprestidae) that breeds in the plant’s woody branches. This beetle is rarely encountered throughout most of its range across the eastern U.S. but seems to be common at this location—perhaps due to the general unthriftiness of the plants growing along the toeslopes, a drier than preferred situation that may compromise their ability to fend off colonization by the beetle. The beetles can be reliably found in spring and fall by examining the stems and leaves. As I searched for the beetles, I encountered “blue aster #4” on the day—aromatic aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium). In the case of this species, the reflexed phyllaries, branched habit, and oblanceolate sessile leaves absent at the base were the first clues to its identity. Crushing one of the leaves and smelling its fragrance left no further doubt.

Aromatic aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium) inflorescences.
Aromatic aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium) involucres.
Aromatic aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium) inflorescences/upper stem.
Aromatic aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium) leaf.

Continuing my search for the beetles, I noticed a garden spider (Argiope sp.) in its web. Something about it did not look right for the species we normally see in Missouri—the black-and-yellow garden spider (A. aurantia), and I eventually determined it to be instead a subadult male banded garden spider (A. trifasciata). The webs of this species tend to be more hidden than those of A. aurantia, and the preferred habitat is said to be drier, which may explain why this species tends not to be seen very often compared to its more commonly encountered cousin.

Banded garden spider (Argiope trifasciata).

Eventually, I found two D. pugionata individuals perched on the outer twigs and leaves of ninebark—just as I expected, and I took comfort knowing that this rarely encountered species continues to thrive in this unique location.

Dicerca pugionata on leaf of ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius intermedius).

Remarkably, I would encounter one more “blue aster,” finding spreading aster (Symphyotrichum patens) as I searched around and through the dry post oak woodland at the top of the slope in hopes that I might still find prairie gentian. This species, found in Missouri only south of the Missouri River, is easy to identify (even by entomologists) by virtue of its purple ray flowers with yellow disks and strongly clasping stem leaves with distinctive rounded basal auricles.

Spreading aster (Symphyotrichum patens) inflorescences.
Spreading aster (Symphyotrichum patens) leaf.
Spreading aster (Symphyotrichum patens) involucres.

Five “blue asters” on the day, however, was enough to make this entomologist’s head spin, and with five hours in the field on a spectacular fall day, I finally headed back to the parking lot to close out the day.

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2021

Orchids blooming at Victoria Glades Conservation Area

/ Ted C. MacRae / Leave a comment
Victoria Glades Conservation Area.

The late summer explosion of yellow composites has subsided greatly over the past week—Missouri conflower (Rudbeckia missouriensis) and rosinweed (Silphium integrifolium), and ashy sunflower (Helianthus mollis) have all gone to seed, and only sporadic still-blooming individuals of prairie dock (Silphium terebinthinaceum) and goldenrods—including old field goldenrod (Solidago nemoralis), stiff goldenrod (S. rigida), and Gattinger’s goldenrod (S. gattingeri)—can be found. Gattinger’s goldenrod, in particular, deserved extra attention, as this species has only a few known population centers and comes as close to a true Missouri endemic as any plant species in the state. It can be distinguished by its basally disposed, glaucus leaves which become very small on the upper stem and its pyramidal inflorescences radiating out from the stem in all directions.

Solidago gattingeri (Gattinger’s goldenrod).
Solidago gattingeri (Gattinger’s goldenrod).
Solidago gattingeri (Gattinger’s goldenrod).

The decline of the fall composites does not mean, however, that the glades are now without color, as vibrant purples still dot the glade perimeter in the form of Liatris asperas (rough blazingstar).

Liatris asperas (rough blazingstar).
Liatris asperas (rough blazingstar).
Liatris asperas (rough blazingstar).

Sumacs, as well—both shining (Rhus copallinum) and fragrant (R. aromatica), and flowering dogwood (Cornus florida) have already begun turning rusty to bright red.

Shining shining (Rhus copallinum).
Shining shining (Rhus copallinum).

Nor does it mean that nothing new is coming into flower—Great Plains ladies’-tresses orchid (Spiranthes magnicamporum) are blooming for the first time this week, and I saw numerous individuals still developing their inflorescences to suggest a fantastic October display is around the corner.

Great Plains ladies’-tresses orchid (Spiranthes magnicamporum).
Great Plains ladies’-tresses orchid (Spiranthes magnicamporum).
Great Plains ladies’-tresses orchid (Spiranthes magnicamporum).
Great Plains ladies’-tresses orchid (Spiranthes magnicamporum).
Great Plains ladies’-tresses orchid (Spiranthes magnicamporum).

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2021