Farming.

The animal kingdom is a pretty sweet place. We (humans) tend to think of ourselves are special and very different from the other creatures we share our planet with, but it's really not that true.

Checking out the sage bush.

While in Drumheller this weekend, I encountered something pretty neat. Dom, Heather and I were hiking in the Badlands when Dom noticed a strange looking sage bush with little black things all over it.

Turns out the black things were aphids. Aphids are little insects that suck the sap out of plants (making them the bane of gardeners). When the aphid taps into the sap-containing phloem in the plant, the high pressure phloem sap is forced through the gut and out the other end of the aphid. Sounds gross, right? This is known as honeydew, and it's irresistible to ants.

Crawling all over the aphids on the sage bush were ants. The ants are farmers of sorts; they eat the honeydew produced by the aphids, and in turn protect the aphids from hungry invaders in return. This is an example of a mutualistic relationship, one where both parties benefit from the interaction.

Lonesome George.

Sad news in the conservation world last week. Lonesome George, the last of the Pinta Island subspecies of Galapagos Tortoise died. Named because he was the last confirmed member of his subspecies, scientists had been trying for years to find a female Pinta Island tortoise for him to mate with, and when that proved fruitless, they attempted mating him with other Galapagos tortoise species. While George did eventually take to some of the ladies, the eggs were sterile.

Galapagos tortoises were among the animals observed by Charles Darwin to have adaptations that allowed them to be uncannily suited to their particular habitat. (Another being the more famous Darwin finches). The tortoises on each of the Galapagos islands all descended from a common ancestor, but evolved slightly different body structures and shell shapes to allow them to best survive on their particular island.

Tortoise populations were decimated when early explorers learned they could take the reptiles on their ships for long voyages because the tortoises can survive on little food and water, and aren't fast enough to escape pursuing sailors.

Lonesome George was an icon for conservationists everywhere, and a symbol of the devastating impact humans can have on the other creatures we share the planet with. At 100 years old, Lonesome George was different from other animals of species who go extinct- we didn't just learn of it, we struggled to stop it, but had to stand by, helpless, and watch it happen.

From here.

Christmas Cactus.

I have recently acquired a Christmas Cactus (really, I'm plant-sitting, but it's taking up enough of my kitchen.. this thing is huge!) and it seems to be happy. Over the past week, it's started churning out buds, and some of them have opened into gorgeous orange blossoms.

Like this one.

The flowers of a Christmas Cactus are specially adapted for specific pollinators. Nectar is produced and stored in a chamber at the base of the bloom, which is very long. A hummingbird must stick it's long beak down the flower to get at the nectar, and while doing so will brush it's head against the pollen covered stamens sticking out of the flower. Pollen from another plant will be deposited on the bright pink stigma from the top of the bird's head.

Side view.

St Patrick's.

St Patrick's Day never ceases to confuse me.

St Patrick was a British man, was captured while in Wales, and brought to Ireland as a slave. After escaping, he returned home, joined the Church, went back to Ireland, became a bishop, died, became the patron saint of Ireland, and now has a Feast Day that is celebrated worldwide by mostly non-Irish people with copious amounts of green beer. Oh, and somewhere in there supposedly banished the snakes from Ireland.

One of the few specific facts I remember from my university ecology classes casts some doubt on St Paddy's holy deeds... Snakes were absent from Ireland long before good ol' Patrick got there in the 5th AD.

More likely, the most recent Ice Age was to blame. When the glaciers expanded and covered Ireland and the UK, snakes and other reptiles (and pretty much everything else) retreated to warmer places in Europe. When the glaciers retreated, most animals and plants recolonized, but the snakes never returned. Didn't make it before the sea cut off the island. Britain was re-colonized due to a land bridge, but Ireland stayed blissfully snake-free.

(This is the same reason that England has far fewer wildflower species than mainland Europe.)

Fun fact about shamrocks: the three leaves of the shamrock symbolize the Holy Trinity and was apparently used by St Patrick to teach the Irish doctrine.

National Geographic does a much better job of explaining this than I can. And probably better researched than me trying to recall what my professors told me. In all likelihood, "driving the snakes from Ireland" was an allegory, as snakes are representative of evil (and paganism) in Christian symbolism.

And this is my favorite...

Talented Friends III.

Poster seen in the Remedy Cafe on Whyte.

Life is good.

On Thursday night, I headed to Metro Cinema in the old Garneau Theatre to catch a screening of part of my dear friend Jamie's documentary. So exciting to see her vision realized on the big screen! A twelve minute segment on bison played before a screening of Avatar as part of the U of A's Educated Reel film series.

It was mind-boggling to see footage we shot together at Elk Island Park of Plains Bison, and hear us giggling like school girls over a particularly fuzzy buffalo wiggling his ears in the outtakes. Equally crazy to see my name roll across the credits.

So intensely proud of J and all she's accomplished so far. Things only look up from here!

Orchids.

I love having plants around the house. They make the air seem fresher, and bring a little bit of nature inside during these long winter days (even though we are experiencing much higher than normal temperatures, and it could pretty much be April now...).

However much I love plants, I adore flowering plants even more. It is very tempting to view flowers as nothing more than beautiful adornments that the plant puts on for our enjoyment. Of course, this is not true; flowers are the advertisement to get pollinators to come and sample the plants wares (usually nectar) in exchange for carrying a little bit of pollen to another plant in hopes of acheiving fertilization.

(Aside: while discussing Brownian motion with my 15 year old students, I asked if any one remembered what pollen actually was. Just as soon as I finished asking, one boy shouts "TREE SPERM!". A funny reminder that no matter how much I love flowers, the point is for the plant to have a bit of sexy times.)

Plants are often very particular about when they will decide to flower; just like an animal will come into heat at a particular time. It's all about increasing the chances of successfully being fertilized. There's not much point in putting out flowers if you are the only one... who will you exchange gametes with?

As such, getting certain houseplants to flower can be tricky. Some plants are triggered by a change in temperature or daylight hours (which would correspond to a particular season in their native habitat) which often is not met in climate-controlled homes.

Phalaenopsis.

Orchids are a particularly fussy plant to get to bloom. When you buy an orchid from the store, it comes with beautiful blossoms, which can last for a fairly long time. But eventually they will fall off, leaving you with a sad looking little plant. Most people decide it's not worth the hassle of encouraging their orchids to re-flower and will just chuck the old one out and buy a new one.

By sheer accident, I discovered a pretty easy way to encourage my orchids to re-flower. (When I'm not busy killing them that is...  orchids are a non-parasitic plant, or ephiphyte, that will live on the branches of trees in the rainforests, and are evolved to soak up the tiniest bit of moisture from their surroundings. This makes them prone to root rot when you are a little too vigorous with the watering can, like I can be...)




Dendrobium.



 Anyways, I was gifted a bunch of non-flowering orchids in June by a colleague who retired and moved out to the coast. The Phalaenopsis orchids (what you usually buy in the store) were almost blooming, so I  left them in my kitchen, but there was a Dendrobium orchid that I had  no idea what to do with. Dendrobium orchids are quite different  looking than Phalaenopsis orchids; they have a cane like structure, with leaves growing out the top, almost like a palm tree. I thought it would look quite nice in my bedroom, and left it on top of my filing cabinet for about 5 months.

In order to encourage orchids to flower, they are often put in a cool, dark place for several weeks, and brought back into the light when they form buds. I had no idea that I had put my Dendrobuim orchid into these exact conditions until I went to water it one day and discovered that it had a bud! I was so excited.

The Dendrobium has since been moved to my kitchen, where it's delicate blooms can be better enjoyed, (see picture above!) and I've relocated some Phalaenopsis orchids to my filing cabinet to try again!

Autumn Leaves.



Yesterday was the first day of Fall. Happy Belated Autumnal Equinox everybody!



Fall is one of the most beautiful seasons to be in Canada... The weather is perfect for cozy sweaters and scarves without requiring you stuff the feathers of an entire goose into your jacket to keep warm. 
(Rather, this is typical fall weather. The weather is pretty cooking hot right now...)



My friends who live in other climates insist on calling the season "Autumn" (Australians... sheesh...) but I continue to explain that we call it "Fall" since that's what the leaves do. (The fact that it helps us remember how Daylight Savings Time works is just a bonus...)

There is not enough light in the winter time for trees to continue to photosynthesize, so trees go into a kind of hibernation, when they live off the sugars they produced during the summer. When the days begin to shorten, the tree will reabsorb valuable nutrients and compounds from its leaves, and store them in the trunk. Leaves are fragile structures, and are dropped for the winter. (This allows the tree to get rid of wastes, save energy, and deter pests.)



Leaves are green because they contain a green pigment called chlorophyll; chlorophyll is the compound that allows plants to turn solar energy into chemical energy that can be used to make food. Other pigments are present as well, but there is so much chlorophyll that all we see is green.

Chlorophyll is continually made by the plant all summer - when the days shorten and the tree starts preparing for winter, it stops replenishing its supply of the green pigment and the color fades. The other pigments that were present all summer can now be seen: yellow comes from a compound called xanthophyll, and orange is due to carotenoids.



Some plants will start to produce a different pigment at the end of the growing season, anthocyanin, which causes leaves to appear red. Brown leaves result when all the pigment in the leaves degrades, leaving only the cell walls behind.



Check out the anthocyanin in this Japanese Maple!

All trees have different amounts of these pigments in their leaves, and some do not produce anythocyanin at all. This allows each species of tree to appear different as the season changes; higher biodiversity in an area means that a greater rainbow of colors will be visible!



So get out there, put on your favorite fall sweater (or continue wearing your short shorts, as the weather allows) and enjoy the beautiful colors put on display by Mother Nature!
(And when they are no longer as stunning to look at... I hope you enjoy crunching them as much as I do!)



Fireweed.

(FYI there will be plenty more mountain-themed posts in the future, but this is the last for now... Other things to talk about!)

On the way to Golden, we cut across Alberta, taking the scenic route to the mountains along the David Thompson highway, rather than the boring QE2 to the Trans-Canada. The David Thompson (Highway 11) passes through the foothills, along side Abraham Lake and the Kootney Plains before joining Icefields Parkway (in Banff National Park) at Saskatchewan Crossing.

Just west of the Kootney Plains, we encountered this sight...

Along the north side of the road, the forest had been recently burned. Some trees were spared, but most of the trunks were charred and the trees were dead - maybe the recent pine beetle outbreak made them susceptible.

In any case, I was very excited to see the ecological principle of succession in action!

Fireweed is a staple of the Alberta landscape; it grows pretty much anywhere. It is often considered an agressive weed because it grows so well and spreads so quickly, but it plays an important role in nature. Fireweed is one of the first plants to grow in areas that have recently been damaged by fires.

Fire is a natural disaster that will often remove all species from the community. Many plants and animals are unable to recolonize an area after a fire because the resources they need to survive are no longer avaliable (food, shelter, etc). When new plants and animals colonize an area like this, it is called secondary succession. (Primary succession is when there was nothing there before - a whole new area is avaliable, such as a lava flow or newly exposed rock after a landslide.)

Fireweed spreads via seeds that look very simliar to dandelion fluffs; each comes attached to it's own little fluffy parachute. This means they are able to reach all parts of an environment very quickly, and will remain there until conditions are favorable for sprouting - such as a freshly burnt forest. This plant is also not very picky in the type of soil it grows in, meaning it can take advantage of newly open areas very quickly. (The first organisms to colonize after such an event are called pioneer species.)

Pioneer species are important because they change the conditions of the environment they colonize. Certain trees cannot grow in the open - small shrubs and bushes are needed to protect the seedlings until they are larger. Certain animals prefer grassy fields to tall trees to seek protection in. Seeing fields of magenta fireweed growing in this burned out forest is a striking reminder of how fires are a healthy part of nature, and are necessary for keeping the natural beauty of the Rocky Mountain forests alive.

Alpine Flowers.

I took a lot of pictures of flowers while I was in the Rockies this past week. Partly because I like taking pictures of flowers, partly because they were everywhere, and partly because I didn't know what half of them were and wanted to be able to identify them when I got home. Summer was a bit delayed this year, so I was lucky that most of the June-July flowers were still out in August!

(My "trusty" plant book is Wild Flowers of Alberta, by R.G.H. Cormack. Reprinted in 1977. Inherited from who knows where. The pictures are a bit dodgy, so if I've misidentified anything, it's probably my fault, but I'll blame the book.)

Alpine Valley Plants: While these are not really technically "alpine" because I never saw them while I was on any mountains, red paintbrush is everywhere along the highways. I took this first shot along Icefields Parkway. (forcing Ken to pull over, because I was "worried we wouldn't see anymore". Well, there might have been about a 2km stretch with none...Cleary I don't go to the mountains in the summer much.) The thistle I found at Cedar Lake near Golden. There is also a ridiculous amount of Common Fireweed and Canadian Thistle and Ox-Eye Daisies all over the place.



Common Red Paintbrush





Bull Thistle



Mount 7 Plants: These next plants I found in a meadow at the top of Mount 7 (elevation 1942m). Mount 7 looks over Golden from the east, and you can drive up to almost the top, where there is a paraglider launch site. The field is very grassy, and chock full of Alpine Fireweed (shorter and redder than the common kind) and Ox-eye Daisies. In between, there are lots of little (less weedy) alpine plants. I was able to identify most of them, but there are a few that I have no idea what they are (which probably means they are not local). If anyone knows, please let me know!

(Thanks friends for the help identifying the plants! Think they're all accurate...)



Kudos to Kerstin for identifying this as
Northern Gentian! Good to have a horticulture
teacher for a friend!



Best guess is that these are some kind of dianthus...
Which is definetly not native, so who knows where
they came from - thanks Lindsay!





 









Mountain Goldenrod (foreground)



Thanks to Shawn who was able to
identify this as Round-Leaved Alumroot!







 





Bladder Campion






Common Nodding Onion



Tiny bumblebee (size of my pinky fingernail)
in an Ox-eye Daisy





Alpine Harebell













Bunchberry

 



Alpine Fireweed

 

Kicking Horse Mountain (Terminator Ridge): The summit of Kicking Horse Mountain is a lot higher up than the launch site on Mount 7 (elevation around 2,300m), and the ridges are a much harsher environment for a plant to grow in (much less a flowering plant! All those delicate parts...) As a result, the plants that do grow there tend to be hardy, slow growing, and smaller. Flowers are smaller and more scattered, but I was still pleasantly surprised by the amount and variety that I saw! There was some overlap in species between Terminator Ridge and CPR Ridge, but I only wanted to post pictures of each type once. 

We hiked the back side of Terminator Ridge, which was relatively sheltered (by Terminator Peak), and had lots of protected patches where tiny plants could grow (including ridiculous amounts of Saxifrage... it was everywhere!). I was able to identify all these plants, and I'm almost positive I got them all right!

Alpine Arnica



Purple Beard Tongue (?)







Common Stonecrop



Daisy Fleabane



Common Saxifrage





Alpine Phacelia



Mountain Sorrel



Wild Strawberry



 

Kicking Horse Mountain (CPR Ridge): CPR Ridge is much narrower, and doesn't have the shelter of a peak like Terminator Ridge. The plants I found there were much lower to the ground than the ones on the other ridge. Mostly there was lots of Mountain Heather. Mainly white, but some yellow (I didn't manage to take a decent picture of that).



White Mountain Heather





Golden Fleabane













I think the little white ones are Pygmy Flowers



Purple Beard Tongue and Pygmy Flowers??



(I would like to apologize for the dodgy-ness of some of these pictures... tiny plants on rock faces are sometimes hard to get to, and I am not a mountain goat.
I would also like to apologize for the ugliness of this post... moving these pictures around was a huge pain in the behind, so I kinda gave up on spacing them out nicely! I kept on accidentally deleting them, which involves lots of creative cursing and isn't good when you have to re-look up what they are! Sigh....)