Showing posts with label July. Show all posts
Showing posts with label July. Show all posts

Thursday, September 10, 2009

LOOK FOR: Chicken of the Woods

Chicken of the woods is a great mushroom with a great name. The fungus forms overlapping orange fans that look a little like the tailfeathers of a chicken. And if you cook it and eat it (only after careful ID, please!) you may find the texture a lot like chicken, too.

Before the tree leaves start to change, there isn't much orange in the woods. So chicken of the woods (also known as sulfur shelf, or Laetiporus sulphureus, literally "bright-pored sulphur-yellow") can be eye-catching even from quite a distance. There are actually two varieties. One is bright orange on top, with bright sulphur-yellow underneath. It always grows on tree trunks (standing or fallen). The other is a paler orange on top, and nearly white on the underside. It often grows from tree roots. Both have tiny pores on the underside, rather than the gills you see on grocery store mushrooms.

Chicken of the woods is fairly difficult to confuse with other mushroom species once you know what you're looking for. Still, if you want to eat the mushrooms you find, we highly recommend a foray with the Mycological Association of Washington. If you can't make it out with the group, get yourself a couple of ID books to cross-check your identification. And, even once you're sure you've got the right fungus, start out by eating only a little bit and see how it sits with you. For a small percentage of people, chicken of the woods can cause stomach upset.

In the wild: As the name suggests, look in the woods -- although we've seen a few specimens of the root-growing variety coming up in suburban yards, we've found far more of the tree-growing variety in the woods. If you find some, check back again next year in the same spot -- they can come back several years in a row.

In your yard: Although there are companies that sell mushroom kits, we haven't seen this species for sale yet. You'll just have to go for a walk in the woods!

Like the photos in this post? Mouse over for credits; a click takes you to the photographer on Flickr.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

LOOK FOR: Goldfinches

Goldfinches are one of the most brightly colored common birds in the DC area. If you saw one in a tropical area, you might be transfixed...but here, it's just a goldfinch. Well, stop and let yourself be transfixed anyway. They're lovely birds.

It's the male goldfinch that's a showy yellow-and-black bird. The female is the same size and shape, but is much duller-colored. You'll often see them together in pairs (they're monogamous) or groups. During the winter, the males will molt and take on the duller colors of the female. They'll grow brighter feathers again in the spring in time for mating season, which is the real purpose of all that color, after all.

Unlike most birds, goldfinches rely almost entirely on seeds; they don't seek out insects for food at all. In fact, you could call them "thistle birds" -- the first part of the Latin name Carduelis tristis comes from Carduus, a genus of thistle found in Europe and Asia. (The species name, tristis, comes from the Latin for "sad," which makes no sense to me - anyone?)

Around August, the goldfinches start to regularly come to our yard to eat the seeds of our summer flowers. Among the flowers we offer, they seem to be particularly attracted to anise hyssop, purple coneflower, oxeye sunflower, and black-eyed susan. In the spring it also brings in the goldfinches when we let the kale and cilantro go to seed in the vegetable garden. Other flowers reported as attractive include milkweed, asters, and sunflowers. They'll also feed on grasses and the seeds of trees, including alder, birch, western red cedar, and elm.

Besides looking for the distinctive yellow markings, you can learn to listen for the song of the goldfinch. This video has a good example:



In the wild: Look for meadows on edges of woods. Goldfinches will feed on the seeds of the sun-loving flowers in the meadow (where you'll be able to see them better), but nest in the trees and shrubs.

In your yard: You can purchase birdfeeders specially designed for goldfinches, and fill them with thistle or nyjer seed. Squirrels seem less interested in these tiny seeds than in a typical birdseed mix, but be careful -- those plants may start growing where you don't want them from spilled seed. Goldfinches will also eat sunflower seeds out of a more typical birdseed. Or, just plant yourself a goldfinch garden with some of the native flowers listed above.

Like the photos in this post? Mouse over for credits; a click takes you to the photographer on Flickr.

Thursday, July 30, 2009

LOOK FOR: Jewelweed

Jewelweed is a pretty flower, a sparkly wonder, a trailside snack, and a soothing skin treatment. What's not to love?

There are actually two species of jewelweed in our area: Impatiens biflora, which has darker orange flowers, often in pairs, and Impatiens pallida, with paler yellow flowers. Both have darker orange or red spots. And yes, they are relatives of the common garden impatiens (the genus includes hundreds of species) -- but unlike the impatiens in my mom's yard, jewelweed can grow 3-5 feet tall.

Water beads up on the dusky-colored leaves of jewelweed, creating sparkling jewels after a rain. According to Steve Brill, they also look beautiful underwater: the undersides of the leaves will turn silvery.

The flowers and seeds of jewelweed are edible. But you'll have to be careful to collect any seeds. Another common name for jewelweed is "touch-me-not": the seedpods will explode when you touch them. Of course, this is fun in itself -- but if you surround the seedpod with your whole hand and squeeze, it should explode in your hand, and you can try the nutty little seeds.

Jewelweed also provides food for wildlife: the bright, trumpet-shaped flowers can attract hummingbirds and butterflies. If you sit by a patch for a little while, you're sure to at least see bees crawling inside the flowers for the nectar.

The flowers and seeds are just a little nibble for us humans. But jewelweed has been highly valued for centuries as a treatment for skin irritation. It turns out that it includes one of the active components of Preparation H. No special preparation is necessary -- just break a stem or crush up several leaves, and rub the juice on the irritated area.

I have to admit, I have been something of a jewelweed doubter. It is said to soothe bee and wasp stings and mosquito bites -- though of course it's still more comforable to not get stung or bitten in the first place. I never could tell much of a difference after rubbing it on mosquito bites. But recently, I brushed against some stinging nettle, and immediately rubbed the sting with jewelweed. I do think the pain stopped much more quickly than in my previous stinging nettle encounters. The two plants often grow side-by-side: both like moist areas.

Jewelweed is also said to prevent a poison ivy rash, if you rub the area that has been exposed to poison ivy with jewelweed juices soon after exposure. Steve Brill also claims it can be used to soothe warts, bruises, fungal infections, burns, cuts, eczema, acne, and any other skin irritations; his website describes how to make a tincture or ointment to keep at home.

In the wild: Jewelweed is common in this area along streams and in wet areas, typically in partly shady areas.

In your yard: If you have a moist spot, you could try growing some. Jewelweed is said to be easy to start from seed (but we've never tried).

Like the photos in this post? Mouse over for credits; a click takes you to the photographer on Flickr.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

LOOK FOR: Cardinal Flowers (and Hummingbirds)

I used to love cardinal flower just because it's a gorgeous flower. It took a few years before I realized that if you sit quietly for long enough by a large patch, a hummingbird will come by. And that takes it to another level.

Lobelia cardinalis has brilliant, deep red flowers. In his book Wildflowers: A Guide to Growing and Propagating Native Flowers of North America, William Cullina describes them like this:

It is as if the flowers catch sunlight inside some sort of secret crystal matrix and let it bounce around for a while until it has been stripped of all but the deepest, purest red imaginable. Then and only then is the light released to burn crimson into our corneas.I will never forget the first time I found one in the wild, just a single plant growing in a low area behind my house. I stood there stunned for about five minutes trying to fathom how such a magical thing had come there.

Chances are, if he stood longer than five minutes, Cullina saw other magical things. The flowers don't have much of a smell. But that brilliant red is mightily attractive not just to humans, but to hummingbirds and butterflies -- especially, I've noticed, to eastern black swallowtail butterflies. If you find a patch, sit a while and see who comes by. Nothing is ever foolproof, but almost every time I have tried it, I have seen one or the other within twenty minutes. Just last week, a hummingbird started coming regularly last week to the patch of cardinal flowers in our yard, for the third year in a row.

Cardinal flowers bloom in a long spike at the top of a stem that can grow up to 4 feet tall. The flowers are worth a close look: they're quite unusual. Plants in the genus Lobelia all have similar asymmetrical tubular flowers, with the tube slit along the upper side. The flower's five anthers are united around the style, forming a silvery-lavender point that itself almost glows against the red of the flowers.

In the wild:Cardinal flower loves wet areas; you'll see it growing along streams or ponds. It's not the most common flower, but if you keep an eye out in these areas you should be able to find some.

In your yard: Cardinal flower is a perfect choice for a rain garden that catches water off your roof or any other wet spot in your yard. It can also be planted in normal, non-wet garden soil, especially with more shade -- it won't thrive during a drought, and it may not form as abundant a patch as it would with water, but it should do just fine. It's fairly easy to start from seed -- but be careful, the seeds are tiny!

Do you know a good cardinal flower patch? Any questions or observations? Leave a comment.

Like the photos in this post? Mouse over for credits; a click takes you to the photographer on Flickr.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

LOOK FOR: Wineberries

We're generally opposed to the Asian plants that have made it into our local woods, but the wineberry (Rubus phoenicolasius) might be one exception. For several weeks in July, these relatives of our native raspberries are abundant and delicious. And, if we can get to the berries before the birds do, and keep the plants from spreading, all the better. Get out there and do your part!

You've probably seen wineberries in the woods, but you may not have known what they were. Like other raspberries, wineberries grow on canes that grow up, then arch over to root and start another plant. With this growth habit, they can create large thickets. Unfortunately, their stems are covered in pinkish bristles -- they can give you quite a scratch if you're not careful. All raspberries have leaves of three, but those prickles are a key distinguishing characteristic that will help you tell the difference between wineberries and poison ivy (which has smooth stems). In addition, the undersides of the leaves are much whiter underneath than on top.

But at this time of year, the give-away is the clusters of red berries. They are shiny -- each one is like a collection of little glass balls. Wineberries darken and sweeten as they get riper. In general, though, even when they're very ripe, they're a little tarter than cultivated raspberries. For the sweetest berries, you want the ones that fall right off when you go to pick them, leaving behind the cone-shaped receptacle that they were growing on. Be gentle with them -- they can crush easily.

In the wild: The two most abundant wineberry spots we know of are along the C&O Canal near Chain Bridge, and Seneca Creek State Park in Gaithersburg (Matt will be leading a wild edibles hike there on August 1 -- let's hope the berries are still producing!). But they are scattered throughout other parks as well.

In your yard: Try planting a native raspberry, like the black raspberry, Rubus occidentalis. It ripens a little earlier (ours started in mid-June) and the flavor is sweeter. We love them both, but the blackcaps could use all the help they can get against the invasive wineberries.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

LOOK FOR: Common Milkweed

Milkweed is a beautiful, once-common roadside plant that is struggling in modern times. If you love monarch butterflies, you should show milkweed some love. Their lives depend on it: monarch larvae can only survive by eating milkweed leaves.

In June, common milkweed starts to form clusters of green balls -- the flower buds. And later in the month, these buds burst open into showy balls of tubular pink flowers. At 3-6 feet tall, with multiple flower clusters per stalk, this can be a very showy plant. On the few occasions I've come across a really large field of common milkweed, I've been intoxicated by the fragrance and the multitudes of pollinators dancing about. It's a lovely way to spend an afternoon.

There are many species of milkweed in the genus Asclepias. All share the property that when you break a leaf or stem of the plant, a white latex oozes out. (A 3-year-old friend recently tried to explain to me how cows get this "milk" into the milkweed, but I didn't quite follow it all.) Common milkweed, Asclepias syriaca, apparently got its scientific name through a botanical mix-up in the 1600's with a plant from the middle east (thus the Syrian epithet). Actually, this plant is all-American, and widespread east of the Rockies.

But not as widespread as it once was. Development and roadside mowing have dramatically reduced the milkweed available for hungry monarch caterpillars. Though logging in the monarchs' Mexican wintering grounds gets more attention, they also have less and less habitat for raising young here in the north every summer. Some states have started to catch on that by mowing roadsides just once or twice a year in spring and fall, they can save money and help wildlife at the same time. Let's hope this trend spreads.

In addition to supporting monarchs and many other pollinators, common milkweed was a staple plant for many Native Americans. At this time of year, the flower buds (pictured to the right) can be cooked much like broccoli. However, if you are going to eat milkweed, it is important to learn to distinguish it from poisonous dogbane (Apocynum cannabinum, aka indian hemp), which can look similar (same height, milky sap but less of it, similar shaped leaves but smaller). Dogbane has different flowers and no fuzz on the stem or undersides of the leaves as milkweed has. The most important difference is that dogbane is very bitter, while milkweed should taste like a sweet green vegetable. It really is quite good.

In the wild: Milkweed likes the sun -- look around unmowed open fields, power line clearcuts, and roadsides. For those of you around Takoma Park, there's quite a bit growing downhill from the track at Takoma Middle School, making a valiant stand against the invasive kudzu and porcelain berry.

In your yard: Common milkweed isn't recommended for yards because it can spread quite aggressively by underground roots. If you have an area like a street box that is self-contained it might work well there. Otherwise, try a less aggressive species, like swamp milkweed (Ascelpias incarnata) or butterflyweed (Asclepias tuberosa). Monarch larvae can survive on any species of Asclepias, and we've found them on both of these in our yard. Both are beautiful -- and likely to be the subject of future posts!

Thursday, June 18, 2009

LOOK FOR: Tiger Swallowtails

DC may be erupting in flowers, but there's something about seeing my first tiger swallowtail that makes me feel like it's really spring. In the fall, tiger swallowtails will form a chrysalis in which they'll spend the whole winter, waiting for the right time to emerge. And then, on some warm, sunny day in April or May, you'll see one fluttering by. And you'll know: winter's really over. In June, you'll start to see more. Summer's here.

Tiger swallowtails are large butterflies (they can have a wingspan up to 6 inches), and their black-and-yellow pattern is hard to miss. They have slightly different markings depending on whether they're male or female. The female has more blue on its bottom wings; males have little to no blue. (Just remember, blue is for...girls.) It must be this blue that Linneus was referring to when he gave this butterfly its species name, Papilio glaucus: "glaucus" can mean cerulean blue.

Remarkably, females can also be almost entirely black. There is some speculation that this might be mimicry of the pipevine swallowtail, which is much rarer in the DC area. It's also easy to confuse the black form of female tiger swallowtails with other black-colored swallowtails, such as the spicebush and black swallowtails. If you compare the two pictures on the right of the post, you'll see the edges of the wings are almost identical, but the blue is less pronounced. (Spicebush swallowtail has light blue, not yellow, spots on the edges of the wings; black swallowtail has more yellow on the wings.) They're all lovely.

In your yard: To attract tiger swallowtails temporarily, plant nectar flowers. But to really support them, plant one of their host plants -- which will provide the leaves the caterpillars need to eat. These include several trees; black cherry and tuliptree are favorites.

In the wild: You'll see tiger swallowtails in both woods and open fields. We've noticed they like to fly over trails and streams, perhaps because there are fewer obstacles. They sometimes will "puddle" in a sunny, muddy area, where they absorb minerals from the mud.

Sources for this post:

Thursday, June 11, 2009

LOOK FOR: Fireflies

One night many years ago I looked out over a field dancing with fireflies and I had a realization: this is why people believed in fairies. I must have been thinking of Disney's Tinkerbell and her trail of twinkling pixie dust, so much like the swooping, twinkling light of the fireflies. Or J.M. Barrie's description: "when the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies."

But those dancing lights aren't fairies. They aren't flies, either: they're beetles, actually. In the light of day, they look like nothing special: black beetles, sometimes with a red head. The exact looks of a firefly depends on the species; there are 23 genera and about 200 species of fireflies in North America.

The different species also have different flashing patterns at night. (The Museum of Science, Boston, has an animation that shows what to look for to tell the difference.) Some come out at dusk; others wait for more darkness. Some are high in the trees; others are closer to ground level. They also may flash different numbers of times, with different duration, and flying in different patterns while they flash. That way, they only seek mates of their own species. Unless, that is, they've been tricked by an impostor in the genus Photuris, which mimics the flashing patterns of other fireflies to lure them in and eat them.

When they're done mating, female fireflies lay their eggs in the ground or in rotting logs. The larva of a firefly looks like a grub, and eats other insects, as well as worms, snails and slugs. The larvae -- and the eggs -- can glow in the dark. This gives the family of fireflies their name: Lampyridae, from the Latin and Greek words for "glowworm." One theory is that the green glow is a warning sign to predators that these larvae don't taste good. Apparently, the adults don't taste good either.

But humans don't care what they taste like. And so we like the dancing green glow: as a sign of summer, as a memory of childhood. Or as a glimmer of hope that fairies really do exist, if we only believe.

In the wild: Different species like different habitats, but a good bet is to look at the edge between forest and open field. They also seem to like to be near a source of water. The picnic areas at Rock Creek Park are probably ideal.

In your yard: Even when we lived in a 6th floor condo in Dupont Circle, we could see fireflies in the street trees. But there are some things you can do to help attract and protect fireflies in your yard, if you have one:
  1. Habitat. Because they spend a lot of time on the ground during the day, fireflies may be harmed by lawn mowing. In addition, lawn pesticides aimed at grubs may kill firefly larvae, which also live in the soil. This is just one more reason it makes sense to avoid spraying your lawn, and let it grow to at least 3 inches before cutting. Better yet, consider replacing some lawn with plants that do not need to be mowed.
  2. Darkness. Some scientists think outdoor lights and streetlights may interfere with fireflies' ability to communicate and find mates. You may have a better show if you leave your outdoor light off.
  3. Research. The Museum of Science, Boston asks people to report their observations of fireflies once a week throughout the summer, to learn more about firefly distribution and behavior. Sign up at Firefly Watch.
Also this week:
The mulberries are still dropping, but honestly, with all this rain, they're pretty tasteless. The serviceberries are probably also still going.

Sources for this post:
Firefly.org
Museum of Science, Boston

Have you started seeing fireflies yet? Do you have a favorite place to watch them? Leave a comment.