Pine Cone Botany For Beginners

Posted on December 2, 2015 by Katie Schmidt

The start of December means the start of “pre-Christmas”: the time of year when gifting stress sets in and your friends keep posting pinterest-worthy photos of their DIY holiday decorations. Who has time to hot-glue homemade ornaments and make garlands out of twine? It can induce a crippling case of craft-envy for people who have full time jobs and/or lack artistic prowess of their own.

For weeks I have been collecting pine cones from the Arboretum grounds, wishfully thinking I will find time to incorporate them into a hip holiday craft. The crafting is still on hold, but in the meantime I have become inspired by the cone itself! As the symbol of winter and the star of holiday decorating, we owe it to the humble pine cone to learn a bit about its fascinating botany before we dry it, paint it, wrap it in ribbon and hang it from the door knocker.

Pine Cones 101

Pine cones (and all true cones) are produced by a group of plants called gymnosperms. Pronounced just as it is spelled (gym-no-sperm) and originating from the Greek language, it translates to mean “naked seed”. The seed doesn’t get this label because of exhibitionist behavior, but because, unlike seeds of flowering plants, it develops outside of an ovary.

Public domain image from wikimedia commons - https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ovule-Gymno-Angio-en.svg

Don’t be intimidated by botany lingo, it’s actually pretty simple: embryo sac (nucellus) and dividing cell (megasporocyte or “mama cell”) make up the seed, which in non-flowering plants (gymnosperms) is unprotected by fleshy layers. Image from wikimedia commons

Since gymnosperms do not flower, they do not form a fruit as an ovary for their seed. Their cone is a rigid vessel for the developing seed which rests on the top of a scale. When the cone is mature and dries out the scales will open, dropping seeds.

Male pollen cones do not make great holiday decorations

Male pollen cones, bad for decorating.

Seed bearing cones are female, while pollen filled cones are male. Both sexes of cones grow on the same tree, but male cones grow on lower branches so that the wind can blow pollen up to the female cones. Likely all the cones you will collect for decorating are lady cones, since male cones are significantly smaller, softer and less conspicuous.

Pine Cone Diversity

Pines, cedars, and spruce trees are examples of common gymnosperms, but baldcypress, ginkgos and cycads are all unexpected members of this group as well. Cones from pine and spruce trees are my favorite to decorate with because of their classic Christmas charm and uniform scales, but you may want to hunt down some more exotic cones for yourself! The Arboretum grounds are home to many mature evergreens currently bearing cones, each with their own charisma.

From left to right: Norway Spruce, Pinion Pine, Austrian Pine, Austrian Pine (Opened), Ponderosa Pine, White Pine, Black Hills Spruce.

Lesser-known Cones

Alder flowers look like tiny cones.

I must note that some of my favorite cones are not true cones at all! The alder tree on the east border of the Arboretum makes adorable little cones as big as your thumb tip, yet this species is not a gymnosperm.

These cones are actually flowers that resemble their cone-bearing ancestors; flowering plants evolved from gymnosperms, yet alder trees have retained some characteristic reproductive structures.

If you can’t impress your friends with precision gluing and glitter technique this holiday season, impress them with your botanical knowledge! They may wish they had spent less time slathering peanut butter on pine cones and more time learning about them.

Four Ways to Highlight Elements of Your Natural Landscape.

Posted on November 18, 2015 by Scott Vogt

Many people come to the Luminary Walk each year and enjoy the prairie landscape illuminated by Christmas lights. It is amazing how a few lights can make the natural landscape come to life at night. Typically, the winter landscape is cold, harsh and lifeless, but warm glowing Christmas lights can invite you in and provide visual interest. Here are some ways we use lights to warm up our prairie garden.

Up-Light Trees, Shrubs and Focal Points:

As trees and shrubs lose their leaves, some remarkable architecture is revealed. What we perceive as a barren, stark landscape in the winter has beautiful, often unnoticed shapes, forms and branching structure. The simple use of well-placed lights such as spot lights under trees and shrubs brings these plants to life. Shop lights with an incandescent light bulb are what we use, but LED can be used as well. Weaving strings of lights through evergreens or draping lights over shrubs illuminate their round shapes. I have even wrapped tree trunks and branches with strings of mini lights. Icicle lights, rope lights, lath wrapped with mini lights, and shooting stars are just a few alternatives to traditional mini lights.

Outline Paths

Strings of mini lights along a path or placed on plants next to the path edge are a fantastic way to lead you through your garden. I have even used rope lights to brighten a path or bridge. If you are going to be in the garden at night, why not light up your way?

Less Is More

Too many lights is too commercial in my opinion. I tend to err on the side of putting out less rather than more. Focus on a few focal points within the landscape. Accent the most important elements with lights, but don’t overdo it. Too many lights will only distract from the natural beauty of your landscape.

We have also been using more LED lights. They use far less energy than conventional outdoor lights and can be connected together in longer lengths.

Avoid Using Colored Lights:

I know this is a preference, but I really believe white lights make everything seem much brighter. At night, they really stand out more than other colors. Warm, white lights illuminate plants and focal points naturally. Red, blues and greens are not normal, authentic and look fake in my opinion.

Bald Cypress

I find new ideas from the web. People more creative than me are always coming up with ways to illuminate the natural elements in the landscape. I try to keep it simple by accenting points of interest. Look at the lights from different perspectives to get the positioning right. By adding just a few lights you can enjoy you landscape even when it is sleeping for the winter.

Not-So-Sweet Smells of Fall

Posted on November 4, 2015 by Katie Schmidt

Fall is a wonderful time to be the Arboretum grounds keeper – watering duties slow down, weeds are relenting, and I can wear my favorite sweaters to work. Brisk mornings and the coppery hue of the landscape make for a pleasant work week.

But wait … what’s that smell?

Working in many different areas of the Arboretum has led me to discover some autumnal aromas that are downright unpleasant. It isn’t the cinnamony smell of pumpkin spice latte on the wind, but a stench of skunk and old cheese! Early fall moisture and warm days bring out the worst of smells in some of our flowers and shrubs, causing me to cringe when working near the fetid few.

If you have visited us recently, perhaps you too are wondering about the foul air. Wonder no more! I introduce to you the top three smelly plants at the Arboretum:

1. Cypress (Cupressus arizonica)

While cypress trees traditionally have a pleasing aroma, this variety emits an odor redolent of skunk. The icy blue foliage may be off putting at first sniff, but if you rub the needles between your fingers the scent becomes influenced by citrus and spice, making it somewhat less offensive and almost forgivable. Almost.

(Left) Arizona Cypress tree in the Northwest corner of the Arboretum. (Right) Cypress foliage

Many evergreens have strong scents, and they get their classic “Christmas” smell from gummy resins, which contain high concentrations of terpene alcohols and acids. Unfortunately, this tree smells less like Christmas and more like roadkill.

Penstemon digitalis seed pods

2. Penstemon (Penstemon digitalis)

Penstemon is a showy spring bloomer that produces reddish, tear-drop shaped seed heads. But when you decide to cut those seed heads down for clean up or collection, I suggest pinching your nose! The bloom doesn’t have a strong scent, but the smell of the seeds and pods has been likened to animal vomit, or very acidic urine. The seeds themselves, though tiny, seem to make the biggest stink – after handling seed, it takes many rounds of hand washing to remove the tangy, kitty-litter smell from your fingers.

3. Rough-leaved dogwood (Cornus drummondii)

Dogwoods grow in dense thickets and are a popular choice for creating natural borders. Because of their thick cover, they are attractive to wildlife and nesting birds. But they are not attractive to the human nose. Dogwood leaves smell ever so slightly of curdled milk. In calm, humid weather, walking near our dogwood plantings can feel as if you have a dirty gym bag on your face. Luckily, as cooler weather sets in, the foul air around these plants seems to dissipate.

So, why the big stink? For flowering species, exuding sweet smells is a signal to bees and butterflies that nectar is ready. No two floral scents are alike in molecular makeup, allowing for specific pollinator attraction. Most plants that give off an unpleasant balm are attracting a less charismatic type of pollinator – flies and beetles. If not for pollination purposes, a malodorous plant may be using its sour perfume as protection from herbivores such as rabbits and deer.

Whatever the reason, I won’t hold the smell against them…but I may choose to avoid pruning them for as long as I can get away with it!

Sandhill Crane Migration – A Kansas Spectacle

Posted on October 28, 2015 by Brad Guhr

Quivira Birds at Sunset – November 2008

“High horns, low horns, silence, and finally a pandemonium of trumpets, rattles, croaks , and cries that almost shakes the bog with its nearness, but without yet disclosing whence it comes. At last a glint of sun reveals the approach of a great echelon of birds. On motionless wing they emerge from the lifting mists, sweep a final arc of sky, and settle in clangorous descending spirals to their feeding grounds. A new day has begun on the crane marsh.”

~Aldo Leopold (from his Marshland Elegy essay in A Sand County Almanac)

Experiencing the sounds of sandhill cranes is almost more distinctive and memorable to me than witnessing them visually. This Cornell Lab of Ornithology LINK of recordings both of individuals and flocks, as well as this private individual’s video recording, will introduce you to this unique sound if you are not familiar with it. I fondly remember the time and place that I first heard this call. It was a summer evening near dusk while standing in a Wisconsin marsh. The sandhill crane call is prehistoric-sounding to me, which is fitting since this species has been around for 10 million years.

Kansans are lucky to be able to experience migration of the sandhill crane in spring and fall every year. We have large marshes in Kansas that offer food, shelter, and a place to rest during their long spring and fall journeys. While Kansans are not the only Great Plains residents with a front row seat to the bird migration route known as the Central Flyway, we are certainly among the fortunate to so easily be able to witness this migration spectacle.

Central Flyway – (from Project Beak)

I am really looking forward to an upcoming trip that Dyck Arboretum will be hosting in early November to nearby Quivira National Wildlife Refuge. We will likely observe sandhill cranes by the hundreds and many different species of geese, ducks, plovers, and other waterfowl by the thousands. If we are lucky enough, we will even be able to spot the federally endangered whooping crane, of which fewer than 300 individuals exist today.

After watching this display of birds coming in to roost at Big Salt Marsh in front of a sunset, we’ll enjoy a hearty soup by twilight and then look skyward to see what constellations are visible without the hassle of light pollution.

One of my favorite writers, conservationist Aldo Leopold, marveled at and wrote stories about the fascinating observations he made while enjoying nature. I look forward to soon re-reading his famous book, A Sand County Almanac, which is one of the most influential nature books ever written. Through the Dyck Arboretum’s year-long 35th anniversary celebration, we will be publicizing Leopold’s “land ethic” principles, which are so congruent with our own mission and ideals of prairie conservation.

I’ll leave you with one more quote from Leopold’s Marsh Elegy:

“Our ability to perceive quality in nature begins, as in art, with the pretty. It expands through successive stages of the beautiful to values as yet uncaptured by language. The quality of cranes lies, I think, in this higher gamut, as yet beyond the reach of words.”

Quivira Sunset – November 2008

Five Reasons to Love Kansas in Autumn

Posted on October 14, 2015 by Scott Vogt

Last weekend, my family was invited to a get together out in a friend’s pasture. It was away from any civilization, quiet and cool. As we sat around the bonfire and visited, I was reminded why this is my favorite time of the year. Here are my reasons for loving Kansas in autumn, but I am sure there are more that you can add:

1. Cooler Weather

Yes, the weather is getting colder. I love to go to work wearing a sweatshirt and then enjoy a warm late afternoon walk in my shorts and t-shirt. The sunlight is warm and bright, but there’s always a breeze to balance out the heat. It is usually not too hot or too cold, which is perfect in my opinion.

On the gardening front, fall’s cooler weather signals a reprieve from watering and the slowing of maintenance regimens. This time of year allows me to step back and enjoy the fruits of our labor throughout the year. I can spend quality time outside taking in the beauty and bounty of the landscape. It is always good to reflect and appreciate all your energy and effort given during the year. Otherwise, would it really be worth it?

2. The Prairie’s Last Hurrah

Native grasses are at their best right now. They are in full plumage. They are changing color from green to bold reds, yellows, and oranges. They have reached their full height and are spectacular. If you combine these grasses with just a few fall blooming wildflowers like asters, goldenrods, sunflowers, blazing stars and blue sage, you have the makings for an incredible natural habitat. I love the way our prairie garden goes a little wild this time of year, still teaming with all sorts of pollinators.

3. Changing Trees

Nothing signals the switching seasons like the trees. Sure, it is not like New England, but we can have some amazing fall color on our trees. Have you noticed that one tree in your neighborhood that explodes into color each year? Since those trees are so rare in this part of the world, we should appreciate them even more.

4. Sunrises and Sunsets

The evening sky has been incredible lately. Vibrant reds, blues, and purples highlight the sky. WOW! Sunrises have been equally spectacular. So, step outside in the evening or take a morning walk and revel in the beautiful sky.

5. The Smells of Autumn

A warm bonfire while you’re roasting a marshmallow to make a s’more. That first autumn rain after warm, dry weather called petrichor . The smell of a cool crisp morning. Pumpkin Pie cooking in the oven. Anything pumpkin, for that matter. A warm pot of soup, a freshly mown yard, the rich earth as you turn your garden. The smell of old leaves on the ground, a freshly brewed cup of coffee, homemade bread cooling on the kitchen counter. You get the point.

Bonfire at Luminary Walk

Autumn is a great season of the year. Take some time to appreciate the beauty of fall. Enjoy moments with family and friends. Take in the sights, the sounds, the smells, the feel, and the tastes of autumn, because winter is coming all too fast.

Have You Ever Wondered What The Tallgrass Prairie Was Really Like?

Posted on October 7, 2015 by Scott Vogt

In late September, I was at the Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve near Strong City, KS. It was a great experience. The Flint Hills were in bloom with wildflowers and the grasses were adorned in their autumn glory. I walked to the top of the bluff on the Southwind Nature Trail and looked to the west. It is a magnificent sight to behold. The rolling hills covered with amber grasses were stunning. I stood there for quite a while taking in the sights and sounds of the tallgrass prairie.

It made me think about the prairie and imagine what it must have been like in the early 1800s – to look at this “sea of grass” moving and waving in the wind stretching as far as the eyes could see. The Flint Hills offer us just a glimpse of what The Great Plains used to be. They show us how much we have lost.

These enormous plains with grass up to a horse’s belly or higher were extraordinary. Early settlers and explorers tried to describe what they saw. Here are some of their descriptions:

“…we walked on over a Ridge came to high large prairies and hills. We walked on found some cherries near a handsome Spring River and named cherry Run at which we drank at the forks then followed it or one branch to the head which came out of a ridge which joins the prairies, and went up on a high Ridge of prairie where we could See all around for a long distance in the open prairies or as far as our eyes could behold, and on the opposite Side of the Missouris we saw a large and extensive prairie which looked very handsome,…” The Journals Sergeant John Ordway Kept on the Journey of the Corps of Discovery, July 15, 1804.

“I felt motion in the landscape; in the fresh easy blowing wind, and in the earth itself, as if the shaggy grass were a sort of loose hide, and underneath it herds of wild buffalo were galloping, galloping…” —Willa Cather, My Antonia, 1918

…boundless and beautiful / For which the speech of England has no name– / The Prairies…

…Fitting floor / For this magnificent temple of the sky…

– William Cullen Bryant (1866, “The Prairies,” D. Appleton, New York, NY)

“Elysian (heavenly) fields of tremendous areas of luxuriant grass” (Fremont 1845)

I would encourage you to visit the Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve. Sure, it is not the Grand Canyon or Yellowstone, but it is unique to our part of the world. It highlights an ecosystem that is nearly gone, but worth saving. It made me more aware of how quickly something can be lost. I can still hear the birds, feel the wind on my face and picture the hills of grass spreading into the distance as I stood on that overlook. It was a snapshot of the prairie that will stay with me forever.

Three Reasons I Am Intrigued by the Monarch Migration

Posted on September 30, 2015 by Scott Vogt

Last week (late September) the Monarchs began to congregate in the arboretum. There are hundreds of them hanging from the branches in the hedgerow of our amphitheater. They are pooling here until the next north wind can help push them south.

In the last few years, we have only seen a handful in the arboretum during their annual migration. When I first started working here many years ago, they would cover the trees, turning them orange and black. We have certainly seen the decline of the population since then, but I am hoping the Monarchs hanging from the trees today signal a turn-around of the decrease encountered since the 1990s.

It is a wonderful and exciting sight to see so many of them. I could spend hours watching the Monarchs. They are mesmerizing, thought-provoking and captivating all at the same time. Here are three reason why they intrigue me so much.

1. They are delicate but strong.

How can something so beautiful and fragile make the nearly 2000 mile journey from Canada to central-Mexico? Every autumn, millions of monarch butterflies survive this incredible journey. From start to finish it takes them two months to make the trip. These delicate monarch butterflies are a marvel of nature. We admire their beauty and endurance. If you really think about it, the migration is one the most amazing in the natural world.

2. They love milkweeds and find them in the landscape.

I have heard that Monarchs can smell milkweeds from over two miles away. It may be from even further away if the milkweed population is large. Wow, do they have good senses, but their survival depends on them finding milkweeds.

Monarchs use receptors on their antennae to “smell” the milkweeds in your landscape. As they get closer to the plants, sight takes over to land on the actual plant. They make the final assessment of the plants with receptors on their feet. So more milkweeds in your landscape will only increase the odds of attracting Monarchs to your garden.

Baby Monarch Caterpillar

3. They use the winds to aid their migration.

As they have been resting and waiting at the arboretum this week, the Monarchs have been feasting on the wildflowers in bloom such as asters, goldenrods, and sunflowers. I anticipate their departure as soon as the next north wind comes sweeping down the plains.

They use the updrafts called “thermals” and prevailing winds to their advantage, much like migrating birds, to preserve energy. Their flapping wings can propel them southward at speeds ranging between 10 to 25 miles an hour. Monarchs can travel 50-100 miles per day to complete the two months journey. There will be time to rest when they finally make it to the warm Central Mexican Oyamel fir forests in the Michoacan hills.

The annual Monarch migration is a magical event. These winged wonders captivate my/our attention every year. How can something so small go so far? It is truly extraordinary how they flutter all the way south. They are worth saving. Join me in planting milkweeds and establishing the habitat sanctuaries they need. We can all be part of the solution.

Osage Orange: A Historical Living Fence

Posted on September 16, 2015 by Scott Vogt

It is so common around this part of the country that we take it for granted, but the Osage Orange (Maclura pomifera) is a very special tree, valuable to both farmer and wildlife, and integral to the agricultural history of Kansas.

Osage Orange, of course, is the tough, thorny tree of Central Kansas hedgerows. To many people, it’s also known as hedgeapple, or simply hedge. It grows so well here, even escaping out into fields and wood lots, it seems that it must have been here before the pioneers arrived.

Osage Orange Hedge

Actually, Osage Orange did not occur naturally in Kansas: its original range was limited to parts of Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas and Louisiana until it was brought in for windbreaks and living fences in the 1880s. At that time, many miles of hedge were constructed by planting thousands of young Osage Orange trees closely together in a line. Many hedgerows still can be seen dividing fields and pastures today.

Once established, the thorny young trees were pruned to promote thick, bushy growth. The term “Horse high, bull strong and hog tight”, used to describe the Osage Orange, simply means that the hedge rows were pruned so that they were tall enough that a horse would not jump it, stout enough that a bull would not push through it and woven so tightly that even a hog could not find its way through. Hedge is tough!

Hedge thorns

When barbed wire was invented, the hedge fences were torn down or left to grow on their own as shelterbelts, field borders and windbreaks. Along with its attributes as a hedge, Osage Orange has long been valued for the strength and durability of its wood. Ironically, barbed wire is usually tied to a hedge post to make pasture fences.

The Osage Indians, from which the tree’s name is derived, were noted for using the wood to make bows. It is reported that Osage Orange bows were so highly regarded by Indian tribes to the north that they were willing to offer a horse and blanket in trade for one.

Anyone who has ever been around the trees in the fall is familiar with their “oranges” (or “apples”). These softball size fruit are produced on the “female” trees, while “male” trees have only pollen producing flowers and do not bear fruit.

Available Osage Orange (Maclura pomifera) cultivars include ‘Wichita’ and ‘Whiteshield’ (vase-shaped). Use fruitless and thornless cultivars only.

Hedgeapples

This common tree is often overlooked, but is a valuable and iconic component of our Kansas landscape. The resilient Osage Orange holds the soil well, and provides cover for wildlife and a windbreak against strong winds. Though it may not function as a fence for modern farmers, its presence here reminds us of the ingenuity and tenacity of our farming ancestors on the Great Plains.

Six Lessons I Learned from the Farm

Posted on August 5, 2015 by Scott Vogt

Over the past several months, I have been reflecting on my time growing up on our farm and how those experiences prepared me for the work at the arboretum. It is a privilege not everyone has the opportunity to experience and was a time in my life that I have taken for granted. There was always something to learn, always something to do, whether for work or play. Inherent danger lurked around every corner or piece of equipment. There was planting, growing, and harvesting. Experiencing those things were the best childhood times. They were so simple – at least that’s how I perceived them.

Here are some lessons I learned from the farm:

Work hard at whatever you do. Then enjoy the fruits of your labor.
Always beware of danger.
The product is a result of planning, timing and a little luck.
The land is a finite resource and should be cared for properly.
Never give up, but persevere through challenges.
Problems can be solved with a little creativity, a little ingenuity, a little time, a little common sense and/or maybe even a little bailing wire.

Certainly, there are more lessons than these six that I took from my time on the farm. I was always exposed to something new. A new way to plant, a new way to grow, a new way to harvest. Sometimes there was pain that resulted in growth. I don’t farm anymore – at least not on that level – but those experiences shape how I work and play today. They even shaped how I think about the land and maybe even helped develop my “land ethic”. I think each of us has formative moments in our lives that change us. What are those moments for you? Do those highlights impact who you are today? It’s something to think about.

In Awe of Insects

Posted on July 8, 2015 by Brad Guhr

“If all mankind were to disappear, the world would regenerate back to the rich state of equilibrium that existed ten thousand years ago. If insects were to vanish, the environment would collapse into chaos.”
― Edward O. Wilson

Take a moment during your next foray outdoors and observe the level of insect diversity around you. Hint, searching out vegetation and as much plant species diversity as possible will make your exploration more interesting. You can either passively observe or more aggressively make collections with an insect sweep net and it never hurts to have a copy of the color book Insects in Kansas handy. General observations are interesting enough, but counting and recording the species observed (no formal identification necessary) only increases the level of education and interest.

We do this at the Dyck Arboretum with kids and adults all the time. The findings in our diverse prairie garden on one side of the sidewalk always produce much more insect diversity and inspire greater awe and fascination than the mowed fescue lawn side.

This is no surprise, really, when you consider how much more habitat, cover, protection, and food the prairie garden holds. Concepts including ecosystems, food webs, trophic levels, herbivores, carnivores, etc. are easily discussed with this simple exercise.

Conversations often migrate towards how important insects are to humans, our survival, and quality of life. Insects pollinate our crops including many fruits, nuts, and vegetables, they provide us with honey, beeswax, cotton, silk, and tobacco, they perform valuable services as scavengers, they serve as food for many birds and animals, they help keep harmful plants and animals in check, and they have been useful in medicine and scientific research.

People in 80% of the world’s nations enjoy insects as food, and this number will continue to grow as world human population growth continues to outpace food production (take a look at this recent Food and Agriculture Organization United Nations Report to understand how common entomophagy is in the non-western world). Sure, one can find annoying, harmful, and even dangerous examples of insects too, but for humans the benefits far outweigh the detriments.

Deep fried insects in Thai Quisine (https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Insekten.jpg)

There are fascinating stories to tell about symbiotic relationships between plants and insects, insects as pollinators, brood caretakers, and navigators, and even gruesome ones about insects as scavengers, parasites, and vicious predators. You probably know about the important relationship between milkweed and the monarch butterfly, but did you know that grasshoppers consume more biomass on the prairie than either cattle or bison? Or how about the perilous story of how the male preying mantis becomes food for the female both during and after copulation? There’s a father’s day story you won’t soon forget.

There are about 900,000 identified species of insects in the world which makes up approximately 80% of the total wildlife species. Entomologists estimate that they have only been able to identify approximately 3% of the world’s species which push total species estimates to 30 million.

Take a few moments to study the following chart of common insect orders to better understand what is out there, have some fun exploring, and as I once heard a great elementary teacher tell her students, “turn your ‘eeewwwws’ into ‘ooohhhhs’!”

Hopefully you’ll gain a greater appreciation for the fascinating world of insects. Your life may even depend on it.

Category Archives: Reflections on Nature

Pine Cone Botany For Beginners

Pine Cones 101

Pine Cone Diversity

Lesser-known Cones