Plantae

Plants

Friday Flower – Spring Coralroot Orchid

/ Ted C. MacRae / 15 Comments

As flowers go, I have a passion for orchids.  Despite comprising perhaps the largest family of flowering plants on earth, most people think of orchids as rare, epiphytic plants restricted to the lush, hyper-diverse, tropical rain forests of South America and southeast Asia.  In reality, terrestrial orchids abound in the temperate regions of the Northern Hemisphere, with more than 200 species occurring in the United States and Canada.  Some, such as the lady slippers (genus Cypripedium),  have blossoms as magnificent as their tropical counterparts, while others are less conspicuous and easy to overlook; however, all share the hallmark that unites the family—a modified petal forming a conspicuous lower lip¹

¹ Interestingly, the lip is actually derived from the uppermost petal, but in most species the flower twists during development so that the lip is oriented at the bottom.

Missouri is home to 34 species of orchids (one introduced, and another discovered in Missouri for the first time just a couple years ago).  None of them are truly common like Rudbeckia or Coreopsis, although some are far more common than is realized.  I’ve featured a few of these previously, including Spiranthes magnicamporum (Great Plains Ladies’-tresses), Platanthera lacera (green fringed orchid), Aplectrum hymenale (Adam and Eve orchid), and Goodyera pubescens (rattlesnake plantain orchid).  I’ve traveled to the far corners of the state to see them, but for today’s featured species—Corallorhiza wisteriana (spring coralroot)—I had to travel no further than my front yard.


I’m sure my neighbors hate my front yard. I don’t use fertilizers or herbicides, and I’m unconcerned about the moss that grows amongst the thin stands of mixed grasses under the tall native oaks that shade much of the yard. My neighbor down the street especially probably shakes his head as he walks his dog past my yard every day, frustrated that I don’t share his passion for the lush, thick, über-green bluegrass monoculture that he has achieved (and must pay somebody to cut at least once a week). Spring must be especially frustrating for him, as I don’t even cut the grass until late May, giving the lawn an especially ragged, unkempt appearance. However, whatever my yard lacks in graminaceous greatness, it more than makes up for in its diversity of woodland natives—spring beauty, toothwort, trout lily, violets, coral bells… and spring coralroot. I have several colonies growing at different spots in the yard, all marked with surveyor’s flags to prevent accidental trampling until their bloom period ends and I can (begrudgingly) begin mowing the grass (no more than once a month, if I can get away with it). I’ve enjoyed these coralroot colonies every spring since I’ve lived here, but this spring was the first that I took the opportunity to photograph their blooms.

Of the three Corallorhiza species that can be found in Missouri, C. wisteriana is the most common, occurring in rich or rocky acidic soils of low wooded valleys, ravine bottoms, along streams and on ridges and slopes of open woods (Summers 1981).  My yard qualifies as the latter, occurring on a limestone ridge in mesic upland forest made only slightly more open by the late 1980s construction of the neighborhood and its minimal disturbance limited to the roads, driveways, home footprints and a small amount of associated lawn.  It is distinguished in Missouri from C. odontorhiza (Autumn coralroot) by its spring flowering period and larger flowers with notched or lobed lip, and from the rare C. trifida (known from only a few Missouri counties) by the purple or brownish stems and spotted lip.


As suggested by the unusual coloration, Corallorhiza species are largely (though not completely) lacking in chlorophyll, and as a result are mostly unable to photosynthesize their own food. Instead, the bulbous rhizomes remain hidden within the soil for much of the year, forming symbiotic relationships with soil fungi and flowering only when conditions are favorable (Luer 1975). The past several springs have been wet here, and accordingly I’ve been rewarded with the wonderful sight of these exquisite tiny blossoms.

I can’t say that I’m entirely happy with these photographs, as I found it difficult to get the entire blossom in focus—when the petals were in focus the lip was not, and vice versa, even in straight lateral profile.  Nevertheless, they still show the delicate structure of the lip, with its scalloped edge and crystalline-appearing surface.  The blooms are fading now—soon there will be no above-ground evidence of their existence, and my neighbor and wife will likely gang up on me to finally power up the lawn mower.

REFERENCES:

Luer, C. A.  1975.The Native Orchids of the United States and Canada Excluding Florida.  The New York Botanical Garden, 361 pp. + 96 color plates.

Summers, B.  1981. Missouri Orchids.  Missouri Department of Conservation, Natural History Series No. 1, 92 pp.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Friday Flower – “Palo Borracho”

/ Ted C. MacRae / 7 Comments

Ceibo may be Argentina’s national flower, but Ceiba is its most iconic flower.  That’s right—Ceibo and Ceiba are two, completely unrelated species!  Ceibo is the common name in Argentina for Erythrina crista-galli, a tree in the family Fabaceae, while Ceiba is a genus of flowering trees in the family Bombacaceae that includes the species pictured above—Ceiba speciosa (syn. Chorisia speciosa), known in Argentina as “Palo Borracho.”  This translates literally to “drunken stick”—a reference to the pot-bellied trunk with narrowed base that gives the tree the appearance of a wine bottle (Haene and Aparicio 2007).  Native to the dry forests of northeastern Argentina, C. speciosa has become an enormously popular street tree in the country due to their dazzling displays of hot pink blossoms, especially in Buenos Aires whose green spaces and wide boulevards are lined with grand old specimens.

Interspersed amongst the pink flowering trees are occasional specimens with the flowers mostly white but otherwise looking much the same as C. speciosa.  These are the closely related species C. chodattii (syn. Chorisia insignis), or Yuchán.  This species is native to more western, even drier areas of northern Argentina than C. speciosa and has also become popular as an ornamental tree in urban areas, though it has been planted with less frequency than its hot pink-flowered congener.

Bombacaceae also contains the famously odd baobab and kapok trees—also distingished by bulging trunks that serve as an adaptation for water storage in seasonally dry environments.  The trunks of Ceiba trees exhibit an additional water conservation adaptation with thick, conical-shaped thorns that are also capable of water storage.  The young tree picture here was photographed in Campinas, Brazil and exhibits the green coloration typical of younger trees that functions to augment their photosynthetic capabilities. In fact, the dry forests in which Ceiba spp. evolved often contain a number of unrelated plants that also are thorny and have green bark.

REFERENCE:

Haene, E. and G. Aparicio.  2007.  100 Trees of Argentina. Editorial Albatros, Buenos Aires, República Argentina, 128 pp.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Friday Flower – Hedychium coccineum

/ Ted C. MacRae / 6 Comments

Distrito Joaquim Igidio is one of four “districts” surrounding Campinas, Brazil.  It is the most remote of the four, with farmsteads dating back more than a century interspersed amongst some of the most significant tracts of Atlantic forest still remaining in the area.  Many of the farmsteads have recently been converted to bars and restaurants featuring live music, making the area a popular weekend getaway for Campineros.  I joined my colleague and some of his friends on a visit to one of these—Bar do Cachoeira—over the weekend during my visit this past January.  After a sumputuous lunch of Brazilian cuisine (including tohesmo torresmo—my new favorite dish) and cerveja, I walked the grounds to look for insects to photograph.  Despite only having an hour or so to look around, the two species of treehoppers I found and photographed made it a successful little venture.  Coming back to rejoin my friends, I saw a few plants with these marvelously bizarre inflorescenses growing alongside a forested stream running through the grounds.  I could tell they were some type of monocot, but beyond that I had no idea.  Something inside me suspected, however, that this was likely not a native species—it just had that introduced, tropical ornamental look to it.  My suspicions were confirmed when I showed the photos to Dr. George Yatskievych, Curator at the Missouri Botanical Garden and Director of the Flora of Missouri Project.  George identified the plant as Hedychium in the Zingiberaceae (ginger family), likely one of the cultivars of Hedychium coccineum.  He added:

This species is native to tropical Asia, but is commonly cultivated in warm regions of the world. A number of cultivars and hybrids involving related species are sold, so it’s hard to be sure which one you photographed.  The most common cultivar seems to be cv. ‘Tara’ and that’s a possibility for your plant.

Known by a number of common names (red gingerlilly, orange gingerlily, scarlet gingerlily, orange bottlebrush ginger, etc.), H. coccineum hails from the eastern Himalyas, where it grows along forest edges and in mountain grasslands.  This herbaceous perennial can reach one to two metres in height and, in some places, has become somewhat invasive.  The existence of rhizomes and bulbs can make control particularly difficult.

An interesting feature of the plant is the long, exserted stamens and stigmas of the flowers.  This feature is suggestive of an interesting pollination mechanism that relies on pollen attachment to the wings rather than the main body of its moth and butterfly pollinators. Pollen transfer is effected as the lepidopterans move from flower to flower seeking nectar, brushing their wings against the floral parts in the process and thus pollinating the flowers (Zomlefer 1994).

REFERENCE:

Zomlefer, W. B. 1994. Guide to flowering plant families. University of North Carolina Press, Chapel Hill, 430 pp.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Friday Flower – Ceibo

/ Ted C. MacRae / 8 Comments

Erythrina crista-galli (''ceibo'') | Buenos Aires, Argentina

One of the major flowering spectacles in Argentina is Erythrina crista-galli, or “ceibo” (also spelled “seíbo”).  So great is this spectacle that both Argentina and Uruguay have declared it their national flower.  I’ve seen only hints of it myself, as all of my trips to Argentina have been either before the peak bloom period from November to February or just after.  These blossoms were seen during my most recent trip last month in Buenos Aires at La Reserva Ecológica Costanera Sur, where for most of the day I saw only the occasional, single, straggling blossom before finally encountering the delightful trio near the end of the day.  The elegant simplicity of this photo contrasts starkly with the riotous quality that photographs of this tree in full bloom have (it may be one of the most photographed flowers on the web!).

Native also to Uruguay, Paraguay and Brazil, E. crista-galli has also been planted widely in warmer regions of the world (where it is generally known as cockspur coral tree or cry-baby tree).  Not everyone, however, is so enamored with this tree. In New South Wales, Australia, E. crista-galli has become abundant along several watercourses and is regarded locally as a significant invasive weed (Smith 1996). As in its native South America, its seeds are dispersed by floodwaters and germinate progressively over a period of three years, forming thickets (called “seibales” in Argentina) that can displace native vegetation.

The flaming red color of the flowers would suggest hummingbirds are the primary pollinators, and species in the genus Erythrina are generally characterized as hummingbird/passerine pollinated (Galetto 2000).  However, the broad, undulating “explanade” formed by the lower lip apparently serves as a landing platform for bee pollinators (Haene and Aparicio 2007).  Galetto et al. (2000) note that E. crista-galli is placed basally within the genus and suggest that it may represent an intermediate step in the shift from insect pollination to the bird pollination more typical within the genus. 

REFERENCE:

Galetto, L., G. Bernardello, I. C. Isele, J. Vesprini, G. Speroni and A. Berduc.  2000.  Reproductive biology of Erythrina crista-galli (Fabaceae).  Annals of the Missouri Botanical Garden 87(2):127–145.

Haene, E. and G. Aparicio.  2007.  100 Trees of Argentina. Editorial Albatros, Buenos Aires, República Argentina, 128 pp. [una foto de las floras de E. crista-galli aparece en la portada de este libro, un regalo que me dio mi colega y buen amigo, Guillermo Videla – muchas grácias!]

Smith, J. M. B.  1996.  Notes on Coral-Trees (Erythrina) in Australia with particular reference to E. crista-galli L. in New South Wales.  Australian Geographical Studies 34(2):225–236.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Friday Flower – Orquídea bambu

/ Ted C. MacRae / 16 Comments


I arrived at our facility in Campinas, Brazil just before lunchtime.  I had spent the previous 20 hours on planes, trains, and automobiles (well, not trains), so when my colleague suggested that we take a short walk outside to the campus cafeteria I readily agreed.  Fresh air and at last a taste of that sumptuous Brazilian fare that I love so much sounded like a great idea.  As we walked to the cafeteria, I spotted these orchid blossoms on the tips of tall, reed-like stems growing in beds around the campus grounds… Orchids!  Growing in the ground, outside!  What a beautiful and appropriately tropical welcome to start things off.  I love orchids (and used to maintain a small collection back when I had time for such leisurely pursuits), so I asked my colleague if he knew which it was.  He didn’t, so I studied it carefully trying to remember its features so I could identify it later.  The terrestrial part struck me as a little odd for a Neotropical orchid, and I commented to my colleague that I’d bet it was something introduced from Asia.  That is precisely the case, although it took me a while to figure it out.  My initial Google and Flickr searches using terms such as “Brazil orchid” and the like produced pages and pages of Brazil’s famous diversity of native epiphytic species, but no obvious matches to this terrestrial species.  It later dawned on me that I should conduct my searches in Portuguese, and within the first page or two I found it – the appropriately named bamboo orchid (“orquidea bambusa”), Arundina graminifolia.


I would later see this orchid blooming not only in tended gardens, but from cracks in the pavement between buildings.  Originating from south and southeast Asia, this sole member of the genus is popularly cultivated in gardens across the tropics and has become naturalized in many areas.  Mary Farmer at A Neotropical Savanna has an excellent post on recognition and occurrence of this species in Panama, including detailed discussion and photographs of vegetational and floral morphology and its potential (or lack thereof) for becoming an invasive weed.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Rush skeletonplant pea gall wasp

/ Ted C. MacRae / 4 Comments

Lygodesmia juncea with galls of Antistrophus lygodesmiaepisum (Hymenoptera: Cynipidae) on stem.

The Loess Hills landform along the western edge of Iowa and extreme northwestern Missouri is home to a unique assemblage of plants and animals.  The majority of these are associated with loess hilltop prairies – grassland remnants that have their origins in the hypsithermal maximum of several thousand years ago and that persist as small relicts on the landform’s steep, dry, south- and west-facing slopes.  Many of the plants and animals found in these grassland remnants are more typically found further west in the Great Plains, but hang on in the Loess Hills as hypsithermal relicts.

Antistrophus lygodesmiaepisum galls on stem of Lygodesmia juncea.

One such hypsithermal relict is rush skeletonplant, Lygodesmia juncea, a wirey, leafless-looking plant in the family Asteraceae¹.  More common in the Great Plains, this plant occurs in Missouri only on these loess hilltop prairie remnants.  The first time one encounters this plant, they are left with the impression that the plant bears small, pea-like fruiting structures along the length of its stem.  These are not fruiting structures, however, but galls made by the cynipid wasp Antistrophus lygodesmiaepisum.  Although this insect does not have a common name, it is associated exclusively with L. juncea, as suggested by its specific epithet (which also alludes to the pea-like galls with the suffix -pisum), so I see no reason why this wasp cannot be called the “rush skeletonplant pea gall wasp.”  Some sources variably misspell the genus as Anistrophus (without the first “t”) or the species name as simply pisum, a synonym first introduced by Ashmead in the late 19th century a few years after the species was described (I made both mistakes [and also erroneously referred to L. juncea as skeletonweed] in one of my earliest posts: The Loess Hills in Missouri).  It would seem that Antistrophus lygodesmiaepisum is the correct name, according to Pickering (2009).

¹ Not to be confused with rush skeletonweed, Chondrilla juncea – also in the Asteraceae, which despite the similarity of common names, specific epithet, and general appearance (except with yellow flowers) is an altogether different plant that was introduced from the Mediterranean Region and is now considered an invasive weed in much of the Great Plains.

Antistrophus lygodesmiaepisum larva in gall on stem of Lygodesmia juncea.

Rush skeletonplant exudes a latex-like sap when damaged, making it unpalatable to most grazers – this latex-like sap can be seen when the galls made by the wasps are cut open.  Cynipid wasps are the second most diverse group of gall-making insects behind the gall midges, and many species are mono- or oligophagous (Ronquist and Liljeblad 2001), meaning that they are associated exclusively with a single plant species or group of closely related species.  Antistrophus lygodesmiaepisum is one such monophagous species, thus its occurrence in Missouri, like that of L. juncea, is restricted to the tiny loess hilltop prairie remnants in extreme northwestern Missouri.  In recent years, these prairie relicts have suffered heavily from conversion to agriculture, abusive grazing, and suppression of fire that has led to invasion by woody and exotic plants.  In Missouri, only about 50 acres of loess hilltop prairie remain, and only half of these are in conservation ownership, making it among the most critically imperiled of natural communities in Missouri.  While lacking the conservation charisma of L. juncea and the dozen or so other plants and vertebrates that are restricted in Missouri to these prairie remnants, A. lygodesmiaepisum nevertheless deserves equal consideration as a Missouri species of conservation concern.

I knew this would be a difficult ID Challenge and am quite impressed that at least a few people figured out at least the correct genus.  Tim Eisele scored 8 points in this challenge to not only take the win but also move way up into a 3-way tie for 4th place in the overalls.  Ben Coulter continues to be Mr. Consistency, earning 4 points for 2nd place and retaining his overall lead by an almost insurmountable margin (see what happens when you play every game!).  JasonC beat out the other contenders for the final podium spot on the basis of a bonus point, but the hot contest continues to be the battle for 2nd place overall.  Janet Creamer still holds it at 14 pts, but there is a veritable gaggle of contenders nipping at her heals – the next few challenges could be interesting.

Photo 1: Canon 100mm macro lens (ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/2.8).
Photos 2-3: Canon MP-E 65mm 1-5X macro lens (ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/14).
All photos: Canon 50D , Canon MT-24EX flash w/ Sto-Fen + GFPuffer diffusers. Typical post-processing (levels, minor cropping, unsharp mask).

REFERENCES:

Pickering, J.  2009.  Database of Hymenoptera in America north of Mexico. http://www.discoverlife.org/proceedings/0000/6/html/Cynipidae (accessed 20 Jan 2011).

Ronquist, F. and J. Liljeblad.  2001.  Evolution of the gall wasp-host plant association.  Evolution 55(12):2503–2522.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

BitB Top 10 of 2010

/ Ted C. MacRae / 38 Comments

Welcome to the 3rd Annual BitB Top 10, where I pick my 10 (more or less) favorite photographs of the year.  My goal for 2010 was to continue the progress that I began the previous year in my quest to become a bona fide insect macrophotographer.  I’m not in the big leagues yet, but I have gotten more comfortable with using my equipment for in situ field photographs and am gaining a better understanding of lighting and the use of flash.  I also began experimenting with different lighting techniques (e.g. white box) and diffusers and am putting more effort into post-processing techniques to enhance the final appearance of my photographs.  I invite you to judge for yourself how successful I’ve been toward those goals by comparing the following selections with those from 2009 and 2008 – constructive feedback is always welcome:

Best Tiger Beetle

Cicindela denverensis - green claybank tiger beetle

From ID Challenge #1 (posted December 23).  With numerous species photographed during the year and several of these dramatic “face on” shots, this was a hard choice.  I chose this one because of the metallic colors, good focus throughout the face, and evenly blurred “halo” of hair in a relatively uncluttered background.

Best Jewel Beetle

Buprestis rufipes - red-legged buprestis

From Special Delivery (posted July 13).  I didn’t have that many jewel beetles photos to choose from, but this one would have risen to the top no matter how many others I had.  The use of a white box shows off the brilliant (and difficult-to-photograph) metallic colors well, and I like the animated look of the slightly cocked head.

Best Longhorned Beetle

Desmocerus palliatus - elderberry borer

From Desmocerus palliatus – elderberry borer (posted November 18).  I like the mix of colors in this photograph, and even though it’s a straight dorsal view from the top, the partial dark background adds depth to the photo to prevent it from looking “flat.”

Best “Other” Beetle

Enoclerus ichneumoneus - orange-banded checkered beetle

From Orange-banded checkered beetle (posted April 22).  The even gray background compliments the colors of the beetle and highlights its fuzziness.  It was achieved entirely by accident – the trunk of the large, downed hickory tree on which I found this beetle happened to be a couple of feet behind the twig on which it was resting.

Best Non-Beetle Insect

Euhagenia nebraskae - a clearwing moth

From Euhagena nebraskae… again (posted October 21).  I photographed this species once before, but those photos failed to capture the boldness of color and detail of the scales that can be seen in this photo.

Best “Posed” Insect

Lucanus elaphus - giant stag beetle

From North America’s largest stag beetle (posted December 30).  I’ve just started experimenting with photographing posed, preserved specimens, and in fact this male giant stag beetle represents only my second attempt.  It’s hard to imagine, however, a more perfect subject than this impressively stunning species.

Best Non-Insect Arthropod

Scolopendra heros - giant desert centipede

From North America’s largest centipede (posted September 7).  Centipedes are notoriously difficult to photograph due to their elongate, narrow form and highly active manner.  The use of a glass bowl and white box allowed me to capture this nicely composed image of North America’s most spectacular centipede species.

Best Wildflower

Hamamelis vernalis - Ozark witch hazel

From Friday Flower – Ozark Witch Hazel (posted March 26).  The bizarre form and striking contrast of colors with the dark background make this my favorite wildflower photograph for the year.

Best Non-Arthropod

Terrapene carolina triunguis - three-toed box turtle

From Eye of the Turtle (posted December 10).  I had a hard time deciding on this category, but the striking red eye in an otherwise elegantly simple photograph won me over.  It was also one of two BitB posts featured this past year on Freshly Pressed.

Best “Super Macro”

Phidippus apacheanus - a jumping spider

From Jeepers Creepers, where’d ya get those multilayered retinae? (posted October 5).  I’m not anywhere close to Thomas Shahan (yet!), but this super close-up of the diminutive and delightfully colored Phidippus apacheanus is my best jumping spider attempt to date.  A new diffuser system and increasing comfort with using the MP-E lens in the field at higher magnification levels should allow even better photos this coming season.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Promiscuous Plants

/ jtrager / 22 Comments

Naturalists have long been aware of the greater tendency for plants than for animals to create viable interspecies hybrids. This is attributable not only (as some might expect) to a higher likelihood of passive plants whose mating is mediated by pollen-hungry insects, or the wind, to hybridize more often, but rather to a greater ability of plants, with the simpler design of their anatomies, successfully to build a functioning organism with a Gemisch of genes from parents of different species. Such hybrids occur naturally, and are often reported in regional floras. Further, the advent of modern techniques for characterizing DNA has revealed that hybridizations of yore have given rise to numerous species, and higher lineages, in plants, in fungi, and to a lesser extent in animals.

My recent wanderings in quest of fall flora photos at Shaw Nature Reserve really brought this phenomenon of admixture of species to mind as I was examining populations of the three Gentiana species that live at the reserve. All three are fairly recent introductions at SNR, added to the flora in several locations in our prairie and wetland habitat reconstruction program. Hybridization among these gentian populations was first brought home in my observation over the last three years of increasing numbers of purplish and bluish and outright blue individuals in a population that was originally pure white gentian – Gentiana alba. This population was sowed in the mid-1990s as part of a mesic prairie reconstruction in the watershed of our wetland complex.

Gentiana alba, G. andrewsii and their lavender tinted hybrid growing side by side at Shaw Nature Reserve.

Pale or white bottle gentian, in "pure" form.

A few years later, 50 or so meters distant, separated by a dense row of trees and shrubs, and in a much wetter habitat in which water pools after every rain and seeps subsurficially much of the year, blue bottle gentian – G. andrewsii — was sowed into a wet prairie / sedge meadow reconstruction.

The rich blue flowers of the blue bottle gentian, Gentiana andrewsii

At first the two populations grew independently and remained separate, but what I surmise was a combination of water borne seed transport (along the shore of a pond whose edge both populations are near), and bumblebee borne pollen transport, conspired to bring gametes of the two species together, creating what population geneticists call a hybrid swarm, and what taxonomists call a — well, I can’t write it in polite company such as my readers.

Observe in the sequence of images above how a bumblebee gyne (a potential queen of one of next year’s annual bumblebee colonies) pries open a bottle gentian flower and dives in for a long drink of nectar at the base of the large vessel. Apparently the nectar is copious, because bumblebees may remain in a single gentian flower for up to a minute.

The result of pollen transport among pale and blue bottle gentians, a hybrid of intermediate characteristics.

While there are other populations of both species on the reserve (one hopes, out of bumblebee range from each other) that may retain their genetic integrity, the rampantness of the admixture at this site does give me pause.

And it gets worse! — On drier ground up the slope, among a dense planting dominated by prairie dropseed and little bluestem grasses,  a third gentian known as downy or prairie gentian – Gentiana puberulenta – was established from a seed mix sowed 10 years ago to convert the watershed of the reserve’s wetlands to prairie vegetation.

Unlike the two previously mentioned species and their hybrids, the downy gentian's petals open wide at anthesis, admitting entry to small bees and even to spindly-legged potential pollinators such as syrphid flies.

And now those perverse bumblebees have gone and defied the laws of speciesness and created what appear to be hybrids of this third gentian species with the other two. Honestly, I don’t know whether to feel that I have done some sort of wrong by creating the situation that allowed this to happen … or simply to be intrigued by this unforeseen outcome of my work, and to wonder what will come of it after I’m gone?

The gentian in the upper photo appears to be the offspring of a cross between white and downy gentian parents, while the one in the lower photo appears to be the result of a cross between blue bottle and downy gentian.