Pinguicula

Day 279: There is a good reason that Pinguicula vulgaris (Butterwort) is relatively uncommon in western Washington: it prefers an alkaline habitat. There are only a select few places where it can find a suitable ecological niche because our Pacific Northwest environment is largely acidic, thanks to its heavy cover of evergreen trees. In this case, it's growing on a vertical rock face where fir needles are not likely to accumulate. Presumably its substrate rock is of alkaline composition, which in this case would exclude granodiorite, andesite or basalt. Butterwort is an insectivore which captures insects by means of a sticky secretion on its leaves. When an insect is trapped by the mucilaginous "glue," its struggles trigger the release of a digestive enzyme contained in specialized glands. Exoskeletal remains of insects can often be seen as black dots on the yellow-green foliage.

Pinguicula Vulgaris, Butterwort

Day 256: Every time my botany partners refer to "Butterwort," I experience a moment of confusion. Butterwort? Do I know that plant? Oh, Pinguicula! Why, when the Latin option is such a delightful word, would anyone call this delicate insectivore by an English name? The suffix "-wort" means "plant." Okay, that's easy. Perhaps "Butter" refers to the yellowish foliage and, extending that logic with no particular validation, the fact that flies stick to it when they land on it. Anyone who's ever been to a picnic can see the sense in that. In fact, the Latin nomenclature derives from "pinguis," meaning "fat," and indeed the leaves have an oily sheen to them due to the secretions produced by specialized glands. One secretion lures and ensnares insects and, as the insect struggles to free itself, another type of gland is stimulated to produce digestive enzymes. The insects' soft tissue is dissolved and absorbed into the leaves, leaving behind their hard exoskeletons, like those visible in this photo. Like many other "carnivorous" plants, Pinguicula likes moist areas where insect life is abundant and temperatures stay on the cool side even during heat waves.

The Lovely Sarracenia

Day 261: Despite being desperately in need of repotting, the lovely Sarracenia has put up a single flower this year, gracing my back porch with her beauty while working overtime to reduce the mosquito population. She's an insectivore, one of three "carnivorous" species in my collection. Pitcher Plants are not as delicate as you might think, nor are they tropical as many people suppose. My Sarracenias have survived sub-freezing temperatures with little or no protection, taking some frost nip to their foliage, but coming back from the root the following spring. I bring them inside overnight if temperatures dip into the low 20s. Native to the eastern part of the continent, Sarracenia grows from New England to Florida, across the Gulf States, and in eastern Canada. One population is known to occur in British Columbia. Several varieties are under commercial cultivation, so if you're interested in "carnivorous" plants, check your best local nursery. Never remove plants from the wild.

Pinguicula A Week Later

Day 235: In the space of a week, Pinguicula/Butterwort went from bud to blossom and is now putting on a spectacular (if somewhat secretive) show. It is known to occur in only a handful of locations in Mount Rainier National Park, but for all of its rarity, it can be found around the world in the northern latitudes. Often referred to as a "carnivorous" plant, the correct term should be "insectivorous." Unlike the cartoon Venus Fly-Trap, its leaves do not snap shut on its prey; rather, they secrete a sticky liquid which attracts and holds insects while they are digested by enzymes. That said, the edges of the leaves may roll inward to assist in confining insects, but they do so slowly, and do not fully close like the "jaws" of a Fly-Trap. In late summer, Pinguicula begins forming a hibernaculum, reverting to a small, rootless cluster of leaf buds which persist through the plant's winter dormancy. These buds husband the starches/sugars which will nourish the emerging plants in the spring. Pinguicula may spread when these hibernacula are washed free of their moorings or alternately, by seed.

Pinguicula Vulgaris

Day 230: Some Latin binomials confuse the tongue so much that a large number of botanists may be heard referring to certain plants by their common names; case in point, Pinguicula vulgaris. "Pin-GWICK-yu-luh" is not an easy word to pronounce, but "Butterwort" is. The "vulgaris" portion of its scientific name means "common," but this plant has only recently been removed from the "Rare, Threatened and Sensitive" list. It is one of a handful of insectivorous plants found in Washington, and only occurs in certain pocket ecologies. It dines on the gnats, mosquitoes and other small insects which are attracted to a sticky substance exuded by its leaves, digesting their soft parts by means of a secondary enzyme which converts them into utilizable nutrients. The yellow-green leaves may look like they have black freckles, but a closer look will show the spots to be insect exoskeletal material, the remains of Pinguicula's leisurely meal.

Sweet Nepenthes

Day 296: The latest addition to my collection of insectivores is a commercially-grown Pitcher Plant (Nepenthes sp.). This particular species is not outdoors-hardy and therefore hangs above my kitchen sink where it will receive its requirements for light and humidity. Native to the islands of the South Pacific, these plants' "pitchers" are in fact the termini of highly specialized leaves. Each leaf produces an extension of its midrib (referred to as a tendril), at the tip of which the characteristic trap develops. The pitchers contain a syrupy fluid comprised of biopolymers and enzymes which allows the plants to drown and digest insects and other small prey. Some of the larger Nepenthes species are capable of consuming lizards, rats and other prey of similar size. Don't worry, I'm not sticking my finger in there!

The Sundews Of Lake St. Clair

Day 254: Much to my frustration, the connection of weather, work schedule and household obligations hadn't happened in a manner which would allow me to get out in the kayak to visit my "kids" at Lake St. Clair. Yesterday, all the parts came together and I declared it "Me Day." I got to the lake about 8 and set out across its still surface, travelling around the Horn and down the Inside Passage to the site. A hundred yards out, it was obvious that they were doing well as evidenced by the amount of red I could see, but up close, the scene was even more surprising. I have never seen them as thick and lush! Many of their disks were speckled with small, easily digestible insects, but one colony had joined forces to snare a dragonfly for their mutual larder. I had been afraid that I'd missed the blooming season, but that fear was dispelled by the presence of inflorescences still in varying stages of development. Only one was close to opening. Ironically, I found it difficult to get good pictures, unable to isolate selected individuals from the mass.

After patrolling the two logs which constitute "Jack's Lot," I set a new course for Sundew Island, the raft on which I had originally discovered Lake St. Clair's Drosera population. Several years ago, it came free of its moorings and had drifted to a less-than-optimal location in a shady cove. Its Sundews had not been happy with the change, and I kept hoping that a storm would carry them to a better port. They say that you should be careful with wishes: Sundew Island has gone missing again. I could find no trace of it despite a survey of three of the lake's four arms.

Sarracenia Season

Day 231: The Sarracenias are budding! Those of my readers who have been following me for some years know about the two carnivores who protect my back porch from mosquitoes. "Audrey" (named after the plant in "Little Shop of Horrors") is Sarracenia rubra, a species whose pitchers grow to about 12" in height; the other is Sarracenia x Carolina Yellow Jacket (unnamed as of this writing), its pitchers much shorter (about 8" maximum) and stouter than those of rubra, and morphologically different as well. Rubra (left) has bloomed in growing numbers each of the last four or five years, the stalks rising to 18", terminating in an enormous and unusually-shaped red flower. This year, she has produced SEVEN buds! I've only had Yellow Jacket (right) for a couple of years, and although it bore one or two small buds last year, they did not mature. I am confident that the two buds shown in the photo will develop fully, and I'm anxious to see what form the blossom takes.

These Pitchers are hardy in our Pacific Northwest winters, although I bring them indoors when temperatures drop below the mid-twenties. The foliage suffers some light frost damage even so, but new pitchers begin growing concurrently with the development of the inflorescences. At this point, the new pitchers are still quite small on both plants, but a number of older ones have remained viable, ready to devour any hapless bugs who venture into their interiors. Every year when I trim back the frost-nipped tips, I am surprised to see just how well they've done their job. Invariably, the husks of dead insects fill each one to a depth of four or five inches, accumulated from the previous summer.

The Maw

Day 347: Without having seen "Little Shop of Horrors," it took me a while to find out what my friends meant when they'd say, "Feed me, Seymour!" in response to my posts about the collection of carnivores living on my back porch. I finally watched the original movie a few months ago, and although I now understand the reference, I can't for the life of me figure out how such an obvious plot twist and cliché filmography earned the film cult status. At some point, I will watch the modern version, although I suspect that it will offer more gore (something I can do without), but nothing to improve the premise. Let's see...the original Rod Serling "Twilight Zone" must have had a version, and its precursor "Tales of Tomorrow" certainly did. Both pre-dated "Little Shop" by a decade or more. Fun if you're 11 or 12, not so attention-grabbing once you've passed through adolescence.

So...movie critiques aside, this is Sarracenia x Carolina Yellowjacket, my "other" Sarracenia. It has wider but shorter pitchers than Sarracenia rubra (background), but their unique, somewhat portly shape suggests that this plant can consume a lot more bugs. Like rubra, its pitchers are lined with downward-pointing hairs which guide insects first into the throat and then into a pool of digestive enzymes at the bottom. There's no escape for the hapless fly who lands here! To date, Yellowjacket has not bloomed for me, but it has filled its pot to the point that I'll have to divide it next spring. Say bye-bye, bugs! You're doomed!

Death Traps

Day 334: The Door Wardens are hard at work. As I was taking this photo of Sarracenia rubra, a Bald-Faced Hornet landed on the uppermost tip of another trap out of frame and began edging toward the depths of the pitcher, lured by the odor of Sarracenia's previous victims. If you look closely at the photo, you may be able to discern the fine downward-pointing hairs which are this carnivore's secret of success. The hornet was compelled to continue on a descending path by their angle and in very short order, had passed the point of no return from which it could not fly free. There, it will be digested by enzymes in the liquid in the bottom of the trap, providing the plant with a nutritious meal.

Odd as it may seem, this Sarracenia as well as some others are hardy in our northern climate. Mine live in saucers of water on the back porch and will be left out until nighttime temperatures drop to the mid-twenties. This Sarracenia has survived in my care for a number of years now, and has so abundantly filled its pot that I will need to divide it next spring, likewise a second species called "Carolina Yellowjacket." Although they don't do a perfect job of keeping my porch mosquito-free, they certainly put a dent in the population.

Drosera Rotundifolia: A Profile

Day 282: I began yesterday's kayak trip with a visit to the Sundews, only to find that while some of them appeared to be in the flowering stage with white petal tips showing, none of the flowers was open. Closer analysis revealed spent blooms, the withered, browned petals visible above the calyces. Some of the older inflorescences demonstrated developing seed pods, and some younger stalks carried full cymes of unopened buds. The accumulation of evidence led to a conclusion: the little buggers had closed up for the night and would open later in the day. Early bird that I am, the proverbial worm wasn't out of bed yet. I did the only sensible thing: took photos of the various stages and then went off for a paddle on the rest of the lake. When I returned in the afternoon, I found several open flowers, and it was interesting to note that when a cloud drifted across the sun, they closed quickly, responding rather more slowly in comparison as they re-opened when the sun emerged.

Drosera rotundifolia (and indeed other Drosera species) presents a fascinating natural history. They thrive in an ecology where other vascular plants might starve, and do so by supplementing their nutritional requirements carnivorously. Additionally, they survive in low pH (acidic) conditions where soil is almost non-existent, their shallow root systems serving largely to anchor them in place. Their laminae (paddle-shaped leaves) are covered with gland-tipped hairs which secrete a sticky substance containing digestive enzymes capable of dissolving all but the exoskeleton of insects including gnats, mosquitoes, beetles and even damselflies (see yesterday's post) as well as arachnids. They prefer high-moisture conditions, often growing right at waterline. In winter, the laminae curl up tightly to form a basal rosette called a hibernaculum. This structure conserves heat and prevents the plants from freezing. It's the only phase of their life-cycle I have yet to photograph, but then, botany ain't for wimps.

Fatally Attracted

Day 281: After a busy June and early July, I finally got out in the kayak today and witnessed first-hand the capture of several blue damselflies by the Sundews of Lake St. Clair. I had wondered how large an insect they might be able to trap with those sticky little hairs, but I never suspected the degree of efficiency I observed here. Almost as soon as a damsel alighted, its feet became ensnared. As it struggled to free itself, its wings and tail were trapped by adjacent Drosera pads, and the enzymes started their work. It only took a few minutes for the insect's activity to cease as it began to be digested. Abundant evidence of prior meals remained among the hungry foliage, proof that those dainty little Sundews can take on a hefty bug despite their size. More on Drosera tomorrow!

She Of The Six Flowers

Day 246: This bit of botanical news comes from the home front: Sarracenia surprised me by putting up a total of SIX flowers this year! In 2015, two went to maturity and a third failed to develop, so I expected three at most. The winter cold nipped most of her pitchers when a 22-degree night caught me left-footed. I move her to an indoor "cold-room" (the old furnace closet) when temps are forecast to go below 24. As exotic as she appears, this species and indeed several other members of the genus are hardy in the Pacific Northwest climate. The loss of the majority of her traps didn't slow her up, though. More have sprouted to replace those which were damaged by frost, to the extent that I may have to divide the plant after she's done flowering. She's getting too big for her pot!

Pinguicula Vulgaris - Butterwort

Day 236: Another score for "Team Biota" and a life-list species for me, a thriving colony of Butterwort was growing on a rock wall over which a steady drip of water was falling. Ten feet above it, we spotted another solitary plant, its yellow leaves and single blue flower the only other evidence of the species at the site. If not considered rare in the catalogue of Mount Rainier flora, Pinguicula vulgaris has been classified as "review - group 1" per "The Endangered, Threatened and Sensitive Vascular Plants of Washington" (2014) and is reported to occur in only a few places in the Park. This location was not one of the ones on record for the species.

Pinguicula is an insectivore. Tiny, specialized glands on the upper surfaces of its leaves exude a sticky/slimy substance which traps insects. The hapless mosquito or gnat which becomes ensnared in the goo is then digested by enzymes contained in another type of gland. Husks of former meals are often found on the leaves of Butterwort.

Let's Dew Dinner!

Day 231: Good weather convinced me I needed to make another kayak trip to check on my kids at Lake St. Clair. I'd hoped I might find them in bloom, but my records indicate I have at least four more weeks to wait for that event. In fact, I searched for any sign of blossom stalks arising today, but found none. On the other hand, I couldn't help but notice that the Sundews aren't suffering for lack of food, or for variety in their diet. Mosquitoes, wasps, beetles and even spiders provide a veritable smorgasbord of tasty treats.

But Sundews weren't the only interesting things I encountered during this trip. Over the next couple of days, I'll show you a few more reasons I love kayaking on Lake St. Clair.

Sarracenia

Day 223: Don't let her modesty fool you. Madame Sarracenia is dangerous...if you're a bug. Even the flowers of this Pitcher Plant can trap and digest the insects which venture inside the central dome-like structure hidden behind that coy veil of petals. Sarracenia rubra is a carnivore, one of two species I keep under cultivation in saucers of water on my back porch. Both are hardy in the Pacific Northwest, although when nights dip into the low 20s, I bring them indoors. This year, Madame Sarracenia has sent up four blossoms for me, each rising 14-18" above the rim of her pot. Only one is fully open at this time (it's tangerine-sized) and I suspect it will have faded by the time the last one opens. Hopefully, we'll have two at once at some point in the near future.