Wednesday Wild Flower: It rhymes with hurtica

Urtica dioica

The very first 'wildflower' transplanted to the Home Bug Garden was a bit of root that fell out of a soil core. Rather than let the unknown root die, my wife brought it back and stuck it in a new bed along the walkway in the side yard. Next spring some interesting looking leaves sprouted and we anxiously awaited flowers so we'd have some idea of what we had. However, while weeding the bed, I was able to identify the new plant by the unpleasant stinging sensation in my hands.

Yes, nettle has flowers

Stinging Nettle (Urtica dioica) isn't an unattractive plant, but it's flowers don't seem to inspire the lyrical joy of many other wildflowers. After brushing against our rapidly going bundle of nematocysts one too many times I donned the leather gloves and grubbed it out.

Milbert's Tortoiseshell caterpillars feed on Nettle

If I'd planted it in the back of the garden rather than next to a sidewalk, I may have let it thrive. Actually, I'm a bit sorry I didn't move it to the back of the garden. After all, it is an important food for many caterpillars that turn into attractive butterflies. The young shoots are edible, and reputedly make a tasty pot herb. Also, a friend of ours made wine from the flowers - and the taste was interesting (although after a couple of tastes, the rest went into a stew). Well, maybe some day we will try a patch.

Winter Interest in the Home Bug Garden

Cattails and rushes adding interest to a winter landscape

As the Home Bug Garden has become re-enwhitened over the last few weeks, and the illusion of a short, mild winter went the way of other illusions, the 'winter interest' in the Garden has again come to be appreciated. In general, it can be difficult to distinguish between winter interest and lazy gardening, but in a naturalistic garden one does want to look, well, natural.

'Winter interest' is also known as dead plants

Snow is a very good insulator (think igloo). If a thick enough layer of insulating snow (10-20 cm) develops then, no matter what the temperature of the air, the temperature under the snow stabilizes near freezing - warm enough for the decomposers in the soil to continue to work all winter. The vegetation under the snow becomes the food of the subniveal (under-snow) fungi, bacteria, arthropods, and worms. Although we don't see it, a significant portion of the carbon budget in boreal systems is processed under the snow during what looks like a period of dormancy.

Winter interest on its way to decomposition

But what sticks out above the snow gives some structure to the garden and some interest to all those who live above the layer of snow (I suppose that would be the 'supraniveal' fauna). This afternoon I noticed some of our winter interest falling, stalk by stalk. A White-tailed Jackrabbit was working through the remains of last year's Rough Oxeye (Heliopsis helianthoides). Well, better that than the cherries (unfortunately hares love cherry twigs). When the snow melts, all the little rabbit pellets that were once 'winter interest' will join the decomposer system too. I suppose that is better than a spring clean-up and lugging to the compost bin.

Large wings and small feet meet in the snow

Myco Monday: Cladonia diversity in minature

Six species of Cladonia reindeer lichen

This image is of a small clump of reindeer lichens (Cladonia spp.) on a log in an open spot of aspen parkland. We thought there were several kinds of lichens, but when we showed the picture to a specialist, she recognized 6 tentative species (chemical tests are needed to be certain):
Cladonia gracilis ssp turbinata – smooth cupped, no soredia, brown tips (apothecia and pycnidia), little squamules (leaf-like structures) coming off of stalks
Cladonia botrytes – pale brown apothecia, upper right hand corner
Cladonia mitis – branching species, (subgenus Cladina)

Cladonia cristalla or bellidiflora – smooth  slightly branched specimen with red apothecia

Cladonia crispata var crispata – upper right hand corner by botrytes with wide open cup, can see directly down into podetium/stalk

Cladonia coniocraea – sorediate unbranched podetia in lower part of picture

That's quite a bit of diversity for a few square centimetres of forest floor.

Adventures in Spider Misidentification: Pisaurina, not

Not a Nursery Web Spider

For over three years we have been under the misapprehension that this spider belonged to the family Pisauridae and probably the genus Pisaurina. These 'Nursery Web Spiders' don't make a habit of hanging around nurseries, which I think even arachnophiles may be glad to hear. Instead, their name comes from the small tent-like web they spin when their babies are about to hatch. Before then, they carry the silken ball of eggs with their mouthparts.

Spider eyes tell tales of taxonomic interest

However, today we learned how to use the the Data tab at BugGuide and discovered that no pisaurids were reported from Alberta. This made us a bit suspicious. Also, BugGuide has a very nice diagram of what Pisaurina eyes should look like and this spider does not have the right arrangement. However, the eye arrangement does resemble that of the Slender Crab Spiders (Philodromidae: Tibellus spp.), several of which are known from Alberta.

Philodromus we think

Tibellus currently rests in the family Philodromidae. Actually 'rest' is the wrong word for a Running Crab Spider. Philo-dromus seems to be from the Greek meaning they love to race. Apparently, they like aphids too.

Hot chilli pepper aphid for lunch

We think we see a similarity in the arrangement of the eyes in between what we now think a Tibellus and what we think is a Philodromus rufus (but remember the name of this series). Also, philodromids are supposed to have legs II significantly longer than legs I - and both of these spider do have that character. So, perhaps we are improving in our spider taxonomy. Well, just in case, we've asked the specialists at BugGuide for help this time.

Philodromus looking more floraphillic here, but also more crab spidery

Not Yet Native of the Week: Gladiolus imbricatus

A gladiolus for Zone 3

As my mythical long-time readers would know, I have been wont to ruminate on the native/alien dichotomy over the years. I’ve chewed the cud long enough that I have pre-digested the problem to my own satisfaction, swallowed my solution, and am ready to spread the results over my gardens and see what happens.

Gladiolus imbricatus

 Yes, native plants can be very nice and tend to be good for native insects and birds, but they alone do not a garden make and some are definitely mistakes (e.g. Jewelweed, Wild Strawberry). Yes, some horticultural creations are monstrosities, and any exotic plant has the potential to escape and grow where we’d rather it didn’t, but if you exercise reasonable caution (e.g. bird and wind dispersed seeds are bad), they do make for a much nicer and no less bug-friendly garden. Also, and I know some might find this controversial, some naturalized former exotics probably fit into their new systems rather well and increase the functionality (e.g. diversity, resistance to disturbance, recovery from disturbance) of the ecosystem.

Bombus vagans or perplexus and European Gladiolus

 Of course, if you define your ecosystems as if they were fixed and immutable and, in North America at least, created before European colonization, then you would probably take umbrage at any plant growing outside its proper place. I don’t share that particular belief system, but I do worry about letting loose something that may damage the environment. This was brought home to me the other day while reading a somewhat obstreperous review of Doug Tallamy’s book Bringing Nature Home (see Books in the Bug Garden sidebar) and the comment flurry at Gardening Gone Wild.

Leaf-cutting Bee enjoying a glad

 One thing that I realized was that I haven’t really done well by the Home Bug Garden exotics. So, herein I start a new series “Not Yet Native of the Week” wherein the pros and cons of plants not yet (or newly) part of the Alberta flora are considered. First up is the flower that enshrouded the ‘big-lipped bee’ in the most recent Pollinator of the Week, the only gladiolus that seems to be able to tolerate Zone 3 winters: Gladiolus imbricatus L. – variously called called the European, Red, or Turkish Marsh Gladiolus. Anyone who has grown the large hybrid gladioli (which need Zone 8 or better to ‘perennialize’) may be surprised to learn that there is a species that can survive our winters, but it is true. A friend gave me a handful of corms in 2006 and I’ve had a small patch ever since.

A denizen of wet meadows and marshes

 The fact that the leaf-cutting and bumble bees like the flowers is good, but also leads to seed pods which I regularly deadhead. This doesn’t stimulate more flowers, but does ensure that tiny gladioli don’t start sprouting here and there. Is that actually possible here in Zone 3?

A pleasant addition to an artificial meadow masking some squash and tomatoes

 Several gladioli are naturalized in North America, but G. imbricatus is not among them and none are listed as noxious weeds. If one casts their net somewhat wider, though, you find that this is not true in other parts of the World. Australia has several gladioli that have invaded roadsides and more intact native habitats and are considered important environmental weeds. I well remember coming across wild gladioli along the trails in Kings Park in Perth – and the disappointment on learning that these spectacular 'wild' flowers were weeds.

Where Gladiolus imbricatus is considered native (SE Europe and Turkey), it can be either a weed of cultivation or a rare meadow plant deserving protection. And, of most interest to us Zone 3ers, in Finland it is listed as a ‘casual alien’. So, I think I will continue to deadhead my gladioli and not plant them where they might escape into a wet meadow or marsh, but I certainly won’t grub them out.

Friday Bug: Malevolent Red-eye

Ceresa basalis balefully considering Nature

Last May an exciting paper appeared in the highly regarded journal Nature that suggested that the bizarre 'helmets' that adorn tree-hoppers (Membracidae) may have been co-opted from the prothoracic wings of ancient insects - structures found only on fossils hundreds of million years old. Gene expression and morphology were combined in support of the hypothesis and, given that membracids often look like monsters from space, this paper caused quite a stir.

Ceresa basalis in a different colour

Alas, last month two nearly simultaneously published papers thoroughly debunked the re-evolution of ancient wings hypothesis (see below). Oh well, that's science: don't get too attached even to the most exciting hypotheses. Still, the treehoppers had their 15 minutes of fame (or rather 6 months).


Unfortunately, here in Alberta we don't seem to get any of the really spectacular treehoppers, but if you google you can see lots of striking pictures (great collection here). Instead, we have a rather understated and malevolent-looking Ceresa basalis Walker, 1851. This tree-hopping bug is a minor pest in orchards because it uses its saw-like ovipositor to lay eggs in the twigs of fruit trees killing shoots that might have borne fruit. 


The genus Ceresa was coined by Amyot and Serville in 1843, possibly in honour of Ceres the Roman Goddess of Agriculture (and presumably where we get our word 'cereal'). Some taxonomists disagree and use the genus Stictocephala Stål, 1869, which seems to mean 'punctured head'. Perhaps someone will one day coin a new genus Stictohypothesis.


References:
Kazunori, Yoshizawa. 2012. The treehopper's helmet is not homologous with wings (Hemiptera: Membracidae). Systematic Entomology 37(1): 2-6   DOI: 10.1111/j.1365-3113.2011.00606.x


Miko, Istvan; Friedrich, Frank; Yoder, Matthew J; Hines, Heather M; Deitz, Lewis L; Bertone, Matthew A; Seltmann, Katja C; Wallace, Matthew S; Deans, & Andrew R. 2012. On dorsal prothoracic appendages in treehoppers (Hemiptera: Membracidae) and the nature of morphological evidence. PloS One 7(1): e30137


Prud’homme B, Minervino C, Hocine M, Cande JD, Aouane A, et al. 2011. Body plan innovation in treehoppers through the evolution of an extra wing-likeappendage. Nature 473: 83–86. doi:10.1038/nature09977

Wild Flower Wednesday: Wild Strawberry

Fragrant and tasty - Wild Strawberry

What could be more natural than the desire to add one of Alberta's more common, delicately attractive, and tasty native ground covers to a home garden? Admittedly, Wild Strawberry rarely produces fruit, but the white flowers have plenty of charm, the trefoil leaves are attractive, and the runners are red. They also spread freely and vigorously across garden beds and mulch, crowding out less competitive plants.

Ascending toothed margins, short terminal tooth, and an upper leaf surface without hairs give you Fragaria virginiana.

Alberta actually has two species of wild strawberries: the common Wild Strawberry (Fragaria virginiana) and the more restricted Woodland Strawberry (Fragaria vesca). The latter has leaves where the teeth on the margins diverge, a longer terminal tooth, and a hairy upper surface. I'm not sure if Woodland Strawberry is less aggressive, but Wild Strawberry is not a good choice for the garden. I've been aggressively weeding my sprawling horde for over two years and am barely keeping ahead.

Hybrid Commercial Strawberry

The hybrid commercial strawberry - which is said to have resulted from crosses between Wild Strawberry and the West Coast Beach Strawberry (Fragaria chiloensis) - has leaves that look a bit like Woodland Strawberry. Moreover, commercial strawberries are just as attractive as their wild relatives and put most of their energy into producing fruit, and much less into producing runners.

Small Sweat Bee enjoying Pink Panda

If you like the look of strawberries in your garden, but don't so much like strawberries, then Pink Panda (Fragaria ‘Frel’ x Potentilla) is a good alternative. The pink flowers are highly attractive to pollinators, start blooming early and last all summer, but set very few fruit. We've had them slowly spreading through the Home Bug Garden almost as long as Wild Strawberry, but rarely need to weed them. They make a nice ground cover.

Fragaria Pretty-in-Rose

If you like your ground covers a bit more gaudy, then Fragaria Pretty-in-Rose may be a good choice. I'm not sure what they crossed a strawberry with to get this particular shade of reddish pink, but our 2010 plantings survived last winter and produce moderate numbers of large, tasty, but strange-looking fruit last summer. I'm hoping they pull through with this winter's sparse snow cover.

Fruit of Pretty-in-Rose