Tread softly...

Why blog about moss?

 1. I've recently taken up a keen interest in mosses.  Recently as in over the last two years.  Well, a very slowly developing interest the first year and then an all-encompassing, sleepless obsession this past year.
2. I wanted to use this opportunity to make people see the cool things they are missing when they are not paying attention to mosses.
3. Why not?

Apple Moss (Bartramia pomiformis) with young sporophytes

 Of course, I am going to start off this blog with "What is a moss?", why wouldn't I?  Well, mosses are Bryophytes, aka non-vascular plants. Mosses have structures that appear to be leaves, however, these leaves are simply single sheets of cells lacking all of the complexity of the true leaves of vascular plants, aka Tracheophytes, aka that straggling rose outside your window.  With only a simple layer of cells acting as a "leaf", mosses are unable to control water loss from their tissues and shrivel up into obscure crisp nothings at the slightest hint of a dry day.  That's okay though, mosses are poikilohydric!  This means that mosses are able to withstand severe dehydration and recover as if nothing happened once moisture returns.

When you finally decide to look at a moss, you are typically seeing the gametophyte stage; the green plant-looking part.  In this stage, the moss does photosynthesize like normal plants, but it lacks true roots and does not take up water like normal plants.  The more inconspicuous portion of a moss is the sporophyte.  Sporophytes slowly emerge from the gameotophytes and their tips swell into capsules full of spores.  It is by these spores that mosses reproduce.  Both of these stages can be vital to properly identifying a moss and both stages can be equally interesting to look at.

Anyways, on to the the "making people see the cool things they are missing when they are not paying attention to mosses" part of the blog.  Lets start with some of the gameotophytes.

Juniper Moss (Polytrichum juniperinum), like tiny juniper trees

Climacium americanum looks like tiny palm trees

This too is a moss, Fern Moss (Thuidium sp.), of course

The coppery sheen and clasping, spoon-like leaves distinguish Spoon-leaved Moss (Bryoandersonia illecebra)

The whitish, translucent leaf tips and in-rolled leaf margins help ID this Pincushion moss (Leucobryum sp.)

 And not all mosses are lucious and green, check out these species growing on rocks.

Black tufts on a limestone face?

Scratchy, grey carpet on sandstone?

 Yep, both of those are mosses, check out the close-ups...

Strangulate Moss (Orthotricum strangulatum) with example sporophyte

Dry Rock Moss (Grimmia laevigata)

 How about a few moss fun-facts?

1. There are approximately 12,000 species of classified mosses!
2. The term bryophyte apparently comes from the Greek bryo, "moss" and  phyte "plant".  Hm, mossplant, how redundant.
3. Mosseries! Apparently, collecting moss was a fad in the late 19th century.  Mosseries were flat-roofed boxes open at the northern end to maintain a shaded environment for moss samples that were inserted between the slats of wood.  Regularly moistened mosseries were a typical installment in British and American gardens during this time.

Alright so what about those sporophytes I mentioned earlier?  Many can be quite cool and bizarre looking.  Some mosses can only be certainly ID'd with the sporophyte present.

Some sporophytes are large and hard to miss, like these from the Juniper Moss I showed previously.  Here you see one of the younger sporophytes still bearing its hairy sheath.  Hence, the other common name "Juniper Hairy-cap Moss".

And, of course, there are tiny, easily missed sporophytes like these from Velvet Apron Moss (Anamodon rostratus)

Some sporophytes look like alien cyclops peaking out of the moss, like these mostly mature examples from Bartramia pomiformis

 These pear-shaped sporophytes are known for showing up after burns or around old abandoned campfire spots, here is Cinderella Moss (Funaria hygrometrica)

Woodsy Moss (Mnium sp.), a pretty common group, can sport these brightly colored, drooping cylinders. 

Now that you are thoroughly enthused about getting outside and paying attention to mosses (even if you have to get really close to the ground and dirty up your knees), I will leave you with some tremendously helpful texts on moss identification that, for the most part, utilize direct observation of the specimen or, at the most, the use of a good hand lens.  Many species require microscopic examination of the "leaf" cells and/or spores.  

Happy Mossing!

Outstanding Mosses and Liverworts of Pennsylvania and Nearby States

Walk Softly Upon the Earth: A Pictorial Field Guide to Missouri Mosses, Liverworts and Lichens Apparently I got the last copy of this text that wasn't near $100 on Amazon.  Not worth that amount, but useful if you can find it.  A handful of typos and necessary corrections in the text.  I have all of those if you happen upon a copy.

Mosses With a Hand Lens: A Non-technical Handbook of the More Common and More Easily Recognized Mosses of the Northeastern United States

A Trailside Guide to Mosses and Liverworts of the Cherokee National Forest

Wenesday Wildflower Time

This won't  happen every Wednesday, but some Wednesdays are going to become...

Wildflower Wednesdays!

The first installment in the Wildflower Wednesdays series is going to focus on a cool little flower often missed even by those who purposefully get out to find the earliest spring blooms.  I'm talkin' about Erigenia bulbosa, people!  AKA Harbinger of Spring, AKA Pepper and Salt.

E. bulbosa, found as far north as central New York and southern Wisconsin, west to the western Ozarks and south to central Alabama.  Look for this plant in rich hardwood forests.

One of the things I was excited about upon moving to Missouri was that I would FINALLY be in a region that experienced a classic Spring burgeoning.  I was particularly interested in getting out during my first Spring here in order to see and photograph as many Spring ephemerals as possible.  Southern Georgia had its excellent share of cool plantlife and wildflowers, but I was always envious of the northern portion of the state for its springtime wildflowers in the mountains (Appalachian forest, the only saving grace of the northern half of the state).

I familiarized myself with Missouri's springtime blooms all winter and knew exactly what I wanted to see and when I should start looking.  This brings me to the subject of my current rambling.  The Harbinger of Spring is named quite accordingly.  This plant can begin blooming when Spring isn't even a thought on anyone's mind yet. Well, Spring seems to be a thought on my mind throughout the entirety of Winter.  Anyways, my copy of "Missouri Wildflowers" lists the bloom date for this species as January through April.  The first time I met this plant was on March 13, 2010.  This was a dreary, chilly, drizzle-soaked day. Spring was struggling to start, but the Harbinger wasn't struggling at all. I photographed several individuals in a large colony at the base of a shady, wooded slope.  Many in full bloom and even some finishing up flowering already!

The Harbinger of Spring, making its way up through the cold, rain-soaked leaves of March.

Erigenia bulbosa is a member o the carrot family (Apiaceae) and happens to be the only species in its genus.  Looking at the plant as a whole reveals a couple of characteristics that give away its membership to the carrot family.

Typical of the carrot family, the leaves of this plant are sheathed at the base and pinnately divided into many small sections.  I discovered this tiny set of blooms unsheathing itself below some dead leaves.

All members of the carrot family have their flowers arranged as an umbel (originating from a single point), as seen above.  Just for scale, the petals of this flower are only 3-4 mm long!

Pepper and Salt, what kind of name is that?   This common name originates from the look of the older blooms seen above.

This winter has been the mildest yet since my time here in Missouri.  I wouldn't be surprised if the trusty ol' Harbinger is already out and about.  After all, that groundhog didn't see its shadow.  I think I know what I'm doing this weekend....

You should get out and look around too, turns out these plants are endangered in New York and Wisconsin and threatened in Pennsylvania.  Not everyone is lucky enough to ring in Spring with this cool little plant, I'm glad I have the opportunity to do just that.

Likin' Lichen

While I am by no means an expert in regards to lichens, I have definitely dabbled in their realm.  In fact, I plan to dabble more in the future.  A recent email from a friend down Georgia way (check out Fitz Clarke's great Flickr page here) got me thinking about lichens again.

What is a lichen?  Lichens are not a single organism, but a symbiotic relationship between fungi, green algae and/or cyanobacteria (blue-green algae).  I recall learning in school that the fungi part of a lichen provided the "home" to the algae, while the algae provided the "food" via photosynthesis.  Of course, things are not as simple as they appear; the particular fungi/algae relationship differs from one lichen to the next and the relationship isn't always a friendly, two-way street.  Apparently there are upwards of 15,000 different species of fungi (primarily Ascomycetes) that form lichens!  And as for lichens themselves, there are nearly 14,000 distinct species found practically everywhere, and on every kind of surface, in the world.

So, why bother with lichens?  If you ask that question, you obviously have never taken the time to notice them.  I admit, many lichens can be quite inconspicuous and easy to overlook, but once you've noticed them you CAN NEVER UNNOTICE THEM.  Okay, well maybe you can, but I most definitely cannot. 

For example, there is no missing the Christmas Wreath Lichen, aka Bubblegum Lichen (Cryptothecia rubrocincta). 

This particular specimen readily demonstrates why it is sometimes referred to as "Bubblegum Lichen"

This lichen brings back fond memories of growing up in southeastern Georgia, where this splash of pink mottles every oak in site.  There are only two species of Cryptothecia in North America, both restricted to the extreme Southeast.  C. striata isn't as striking, it lacks the red pigment.  C. rubrocincta is also found in South America where it has been used as a source of red dye in Brazil.

As I mentioned earlier, some lichen (okay maybe a lot of lichen) are easy to overlook.  However, if you take a moment to look closely, you may find that they are much more interesting.  Take Script Lichen (Graphis scripta) for an example. 

Another common lichen occurrence on oaks in the Southeast.

From a distance, you may only see a whitish smudge on a branch with some black streaks or dashes.  Look a bit closer and you may begin to see why this particular group of lichens are known as "script" lichens.  There are only 39 species of Script Lichen in North America, most restricted to the Southeast and Florida claims 25 of them.  G. scripta is the most common and widespread across most of Eastern North America. 

How about this sickly looking Lichen?  Bark Rash Lichen (Pyrenula cruenta), one of 48 species of "bark rash" or "pox" lichens found in North America, again this species restricted to the Southeast.  This specimen was a tiny patch I found growing on scrawny, young oak, marsh-side at Skidaway Island State Park.  I think the photo clearly shows where these lichens get their common name.

Pyrenula cruenta, one of the Bark Rash Lichens.  Hey, I even see some Script Lichen!

Well, I don't think I'm doing a good job convincing you that lichen are easy to miss.  Here is another striking species Haematomma accolens, one of the Bloodspot Lichens.  This is an easily recognized group and there are only 7 species in North America, 5 of which are found in the Southeast.  Again, I think the photo will clearly show where the common name comes from.

One of the North American Bloodspot Lichens, Haematomma accolens.

Like I said before, lichens can be found growing on almost any surface.  So far I've shown you examples on tree bark.  Take a look at this attention-grabbing species that grows on rocks. 

I hope you enjoyed looking at this Sidewalk Firedot Lichen (Caloplaca feracissima) before you burned your retinas to ash.

Why the hell did I bother saying that lichens were easy to miss??  There are 133 species of Firedot, or Jewel Lichens in North America.  This particular species is at home growing on natural limestone and even sidewalks.  I photographed this specimen on a huge limestone chunk bordering a parking lot. 

Well, I wish I could tell you about each and every one of the ~14,000 species of lichen in the world.  I think these five interesting species should be plenty to peak your interest in these cool organisms.  And I promise you can easily overlook lichens.  So PAY ATTENTION.  You probably missed out on at least a dozen just today.

Go look at some lichen!

For an amazing reference on Lichens of North America, check out this book.

Also check out, A Guide to the Lichens of Howard County, MD - a great resource online for a lot of commonly encountered species, download it here

 

High Plains Ramblin', Lowlands Reminiscin' Part II

This blister sucked!

This particular blister was lonely after suffering the loss of its neighbor.

But this beach made it all better.

The Atlantic Ocean, as seen from Sea Camp Beach

Maybe I should rewind a bit first.  I left  you last time with a relaxing image of sunset from Brickhill Bluff on Cumberland Island.

Brickhill Bluff Camp, awesome vantage shot courtesy of Jack Sin.

The day after that sunset, our party retraced its steps the whole ten miles in order to spend the last evening on the island at Sea Camp.   Sea Camp being the portion of the island my friends and I grew up haunting.  Excellently secluded campsites under a canopy of classic maritime forest Live Oaks, complete with civilized bathrooms and showers.

Who wouldn't want to camp here?  Or even just nap on the picnic table?

After a twenty mile round trip in less than 24 hours and blisters like the one you witnessed above, I have never appreciated a cold shower and real-life toilet more. Oh, we still had to raccoon-proof everything, if that is even possible.  A small price to pay for having the beach and the horizon of the Atlantic Ocean literally fifty yards from our camp.

Members of the party discuss the importance of raccoon awareness.

View from behind the campsite, the beach hides just beyond that dune.

The walk to the beach was almost as relaxing as being on the beach itself.

No, this isn't a shot from Lord of the Rings, just the trail from the camp to the beach.

Just a few more steps...

The boardwalk through the dune meadow was an awesome glimpse at something typical beach-goers miss out on at the usual barrier island beaches, seeing that they have mostly been replaced with parking lots and sea-side businesses.

Boardwalk across the dune meadow, looking back towards the forest.

Sea Oats play a critical role in stabilizing the dunes; picking or disturbing sea oats is punishable by fine in Georgia, Florida, and North Carolina.

Despite the many times I've been to Cumberland, the seemingly endless beach (17 miles endless), practically void of people, filled only with the sounds of the waves, wind and birds never fails to awe me as I make my way out of the dunes and onto the beach proper.

Beach as far as the eye can see.

As if a twenty mile hike in two days wasn't enough, I found myself unable to sleep back at camp.  The ridiculous heat and humidity and a fellow camper having nightmares about a snake didn't help.  I couldn't complain, I guess.  I had a night terror about raccoons stealing my gear the first night at Brickhill Bluff.  So, why not spend the rest of the evening laying on the beach in the moonlight?  Sounds good. I spent the remainder of our last night on the cool sand of the beach, in the breeze, looking at the stars and watching the sun slowly climb its way out of the ocean.

  Just after the sun had risen, during my walk back through the dune meadow, I saw that the beach morning glories had been there watching the sun rise along with me. Morning glory, indeed.

Beach Morning Glory (Ipomea pes-capre), stabilizing the dunes and enjoying the morning sun.

Get more info on Cumberland Island here.

Historic St. Marys is a neat place to explore while your at it.

High Plains Ramblin', Lowlands Reminiscin' Part I

Funny how time moves so slowly until suddenly its moving too fast.

In less than a month's time, I will be living in Kansas.  Southwest Kansas.  Just three years ago, (which seemed like forever ago until recently when now it seems like just yesterday) I found myself in southern Georgia, thinking "What the hell am I going to do in Missouri!?".  Prior to that moment three years ago, I had lived seventeen years of my life in southern Georgia.  Yes, I do make a point to say "southern Georgia" as opposed to just "Georgia"; I feel that it is an important distinction given my aversion to the northern portion of the state, but that is something for another blog.

Anyways, spending the entirety of my formative years in the aforementioned region, I find myself with an unshakable affinity towards the Southeast, especially its wild places (some wilder than others, of course).  I frequently find myself weighing my outdoor experiences in Missouri against those in the places I grew up exploring in southern Georgia.

As I started writing this blog, I realized that if I talked about all of the amazing wild places from back home it could quickly become a multi-blog event, or one far too long-winded single entry.  So, for this entry, I've opted to share some photos from one of the places I am particularly fond of; one of the places that I had the good fortune to explore many times while growing up in St. Marys, Georgia.  Cumberland Island National Seashore, of course.

If you ever visit southeastern Georgia, a trip to Cumberland Island is a must

Cumberland Island, floating just off of St. Marys,  is Georgia's largest and southernmost barrier island. Home to over 9,800 acres of congressionally designated wilderness, this coastal paradise features excellent examples of pristine maritime forest (a habitat quickly becoming scarce on the coast-proper), undeveloped beaches (practically non-existant along the rest of the coast), expansive saltmarsh, and quite an interesting history people-wise.


I had frequented the island many times growing up to camp, however, during the summer of 2011 I finally had a chance to do an extended hike through the wilderness of Cumberland for some camping it its back country.  The trip started from a small dock not too different from the one below.

Looking East from St. Marys, "Gateway to Cumberland Island"

 After loading our gear onto the aptly named "Cumberland Princess", our exodus from the mainland began and we slowly made our way through the estuary that fills the gap between the Georgia coast and it's barrier islands.

Bon voyage!

This sea of green and blue is a common sight anywhere along the coast of Georgia

 After just under and hour of marsh gazing and keeping alert for breaching dolphins, the boat slows to a crawl as we parallel the island's shore.  Looking out from the boat, a dense edge of spanish moss-covered scrub hides the beauty of the island's interior.  Slowly another small dock takes shape ahead. 

Arriving at Sea Camp dock, a location popular with Manatees

After a short orientation by the rangers, my party and I were released to begin our trek to the furthest of three back country campsites, Brickhill Bluff.

Luckily, no hikers were forced to eat each other to survive the journey.

One thing people tend to really find fascinating about the island is it's population of feral horses.  These horses are quite a presence on the island and we had a nice send off by a foal gorging itself on some fallen Spanish Moss.

A young Spanish Moss connoisseur.

Our ten mile hike to our campsite started just beyond the ranger station in the saw palmetto-live oak thicket typical of a lot of the island.  As our group ventured further into the back country, the saw palmetto thickets thinned out a bit and offered us some breathing room allowing a view of the sandy, mixed oak and pine forest more abundant in the inner portion of the island.

A beautiful understory of Saw Palmetto was the main view for the beginning of the hike.

Under more natural conditions, fire helps keep the understory a little less choked with Saw Palmetto.

The season had turned out to be one drier than usual and quite warm, but we were able to enjoy a variety of wildlife and interesting plants during our hike.  Well, mostly it was just me enjoying the plants, but that's okay.
 

We ran into wild turkey several times along the trek.

Ball Moss (Tillandsia recurvata) isn't a moss at all, but a flowering plant particular to the southeastern coastal barrier islands.

It was hard not to be amazed at every one of the huge Live Oaks we encountered along the way.

This is the coolest Live Oak you will ever see.  Don't argue.

As we approached our campsite, we began to get back into view of the island's inner coastline; the cooling breeze coming off of the marsh was most welcome.

An inlet from the salt marsh, picturesque and cooling.

 Turns out, despite the protest of our tired bodies and blistered feet, the 10 mile hike in near 100 degree weather, was worth it.  Situated at the edge of the forest, just close enough to the estuary, Brickhill Bluff was indeed the most rewarding of the three back country campsites, capturing quite nicely the overall vibe of the island I had come to know over the years.

Our campsite, Brickhill Bluff.

 We were happy to make it before sunset with ample time to set up camp, exchange boots for flip flops, eat some of the most delicious dehydrated-then-rehydrated food on the planet, raccoon-proof our gear, set up a hammock, and watch the sun go down. 

Sunset from Cumberland Island, Brickhill Bluff campsite

 A fine way to end the first day of the expedition.  Day two features ten more miles of hiking, more blisters, and a very welcomed beach.  But I'll save all of that for part two.