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.

The Power of Many

Posted on June 10, 2015 by Brad Guhr

“Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much.” ~ Helen Keller

Consider the power of one vs. the power of many. The power of one may at first seem insignificant. However, with persistence, consensus-building, and sometimes even a little luck, that power can grow to many and build to a formidable presence.

A few examples of this in nature…

From one seed, a typical annual sunflower head produces hundreds and sometimes over 1,000 seeds depending on the species variety. A few plants in an area with open soil can quickly turn into an area dominated by this species over the next couple of years.

One Canada goose only has so much energy to give while covering miles during migration to fight wind currents and arrive at its intended destination. But by flocking into a V formation in flight, each individual rotates through the more energy-intensive front position in a cyclical fashion, shares overall flight fatigue, and greatly boosts the efficiency and range of the whole.

Eurasian_Cranes_migrating_to_Meyghan_Salt_Lake

Photo by Hamid Hajihusseini – http://www.panoramio.com/photo/43585282

One by one, individual plants of hundreds of species of wildflowers and grasses took advantage of a favorable climate on the Great Plains after the last ice age 10,000 years ago. They extended their roots to a depth of 10 feet or more, produced flowers and distributed seeds, and filled new spaces as long-lived perennials. Prairie plant roots partially died and regenerated year after year after year, and in the process pumped loads of atmospheric carbon into a deep soil horizon, and created a long-lasting friable matrix that today helps produce food for the rest of the world.

While pondering these examples on a walk this morning, I tried to swat individual mosquitoes, only to be overwhelmed by the presence of a blood-thirsty mosquito CLOUD. I was reminded of the “success of many” concept in the book Gnats of Knotty Pine from my favorite children’s author, Bill Peet.

Last week, we finished our ninth annual Earth Partnership for Schools (EPS) summer institute. We were joined by 21 educators for this intense 40-hour workshop to learn how to engage K-12 children in the preparation, creation, maintenance, study and enjoyment of schoolyard prairie gardens. These individuals came with energy, passion, a willingness to learn, and 287 years of experience and expertise. (side note: this group fittingly helped a volunteer weed a large bed in about five minutes and conducted a big planting in about 30 minutes that would have taken our grounds manager all day!)

As during previous EPS summer institutes, spending a week with these people was a blast – exhausting, yet energizing, and ever so powerful for all involved on so many levels. They will return to school in the fall with detailed action plans, an expanded toolbox of curriculum activities, and a new appreciation for the success of project-based, hands-on environmental education.

I’m sure you will agree that every individual teacher has the power on his or her own to impact the lives of so many young people. Together, this 2015 cohort has increased the number of EPS educators in Kansas to 194 teachers from 64 schools. These individuals, as a collective group, have reached over 21,000 students in the last eight years and that number will continue to grow.

I’ll leave you with one final question. Between the bison and the grasshopper (pre-European settlement era when the bison were still common), which organism as a whole consumed more prairie biomass in a given year? I think you know where this is going…

Five Surprises from our Prairie Garden

Posted on May 20, 2015 by Scott Vogt

I know it is cliché to say I have been busy, but I have been busy. We are all busy these days. It seems that is just a fact of life. You are not living if you are not busy doing something or going somewhere. We are moving so fast that we are too distracted to notice the little things. However, something happened to me the other day that I can’t stop thinking about.

I had been working around the greenhouse and stopped for a few minutes to rest. If I had not stopped, I would have missed it. A ruby-throated hummingbird sipping nectar from the hummingbird mint. I was mesmerized as I watched him flit from flower to flower only three feet away. It was amazing how something so small could capture my attention. But the key to seeing it was stopping what I was doing and observing what was happening around me.

That hummingbird was my first surprise, but more have followed over the past few days. I noticed a large black and yellow bumble bee that was climbing completely inside the Penstemon cobaea. He would almost disappear as he searched for the nectar deep in the flower. He would climb out and go to the next flower as he tirelessly worked each bloom for food.

The stately beauty of Indigos has taken me by surprise. They rise early in the season to put on a show and then persevere through the summer, ultimately turning black as the weather cools. The vibrant blue and yellow flower spikes stand out in the sea of green prairie grasses.

The birds feeding their young is another surprise. Where do they find the food for all those hungry mouths? They are constantly searching for food. Whether robins or cardinals, they do what needs to be done to keep their brood happy and healthy.

A nest of robins in a hawthorn tree. Photo by Cheri Kaufman.

The intricate beauty of a Pawpaw tree blooming caught my attention. The reddish-brown flowers held upside down drew me to the tree like a magnet. I had seen these trees bloom before, but there was something different this year that made me stop. It was something special. It was interesting and beautiful – worth the time to witness.

These are just a few things that caught my attention. I know there are many more surprises out there to discover. Should these types of things surprise us? They would surprise us less if we took time to observe more, but we are distracted too much. Stop and take in what is happening around you in your garden.

Hopefully you, like I, will be rewarded by observing the landscape, by taking the time for quiet reflection in your prairie garden – leaving you with a mental note that will bring a smile to your face during your busy day.

I can still see that hummingbird around those flowers. What is your hummingbird moment?

Category Archives: Reflections on Nature

Not-So-Sweet Smells of Fall

1. Cypress (Cupressus arizonica)

2. Penstemon (Penstemon digitalis)

3. Rough-leaved dogwood (Cornus drummondii)

Sandhill Crane Migration – A Kansas Spectacle