Another backlog installation of Missouri spring woodland finds

Thought I was going to get this up sooner…baby birds are a lot of work, that’s all I’m saying.

Here’s one last Mayapple. Of last year, anyway. These are all from March 2012, however embarrassing that might be (as a blogger).



Do note, you can click on any image to view large. See detail. Marvel.

Trillium from above. A rare sun-shot from me.

Below, classic wild ginger.

Asarum canadense

I read they are pollinated by ants, beetles and flies—wonder if ants and beetles just stumble in, because the flower is on the ground, or if they’re really going for the pollen? And flies supposedly take shelter there.

Exidia glandulosa, “black jelly.” Whoo!

I don't know why I didn't slice this open to see what it looked like inside. I do it to other fungi...

In the UK this is what is what they call "witch's butter" which is much better than calling the yellow stuff "witch's butter" like in the US (Tremella mesenterica). Of course witch's butter is black! And if ye throuw it on a pyre it wille counteract malignant magick.

Schizophyllum commune, “common split gill.” Just a nice arrangement on an upright dead tree. Usually I take pics of the underside, which can be very beautiful with swirly folds. I was very honored to have this image included in the excellent book, "Mushrooms of the Midwest," by Kuo & Methven.

At first yellow-jelly glance (above) I tried to jump to the conclusion this was witch’s butter, Tremella mesenterica, but it’s not. I have since learned that just because it's yellow and jelly-like doesn't mean it's witch's butter! It’s Guepiniopsis alpina (also known as Heterotextus alpinus, don’t ask me why, I can’t keep up with all the taxonomic changes of fungi). Golden jelly cone, yellow cone jelly, or any other variation of those words will get you there.

Below, the hand of a bee on a bolt on a sign at the trail head.



I don’t know what kind of bee (yet).

Here comes the backlog parade! Mushrooms, wildflowers, whatever I found.

I might have shot myself in the foot by maintaining a personal rule that I post things in the order I find them—but then I put off some postings (last year) for some reason, and then there was the terrible heat wave and drought which led to NOTHING to post for about 3 months—it all turned into a terrible logjam. Here it all comes. In the order encountered, at least.


Above, an emerging, “candling” Mayapple, Podophyllum peltatum. That’s what it’s called—“candling.” Because it looks like a candle.

I was in the right place at the right time to catch this moment of a Mayapple leaf unfurling.

I see these every spring, and every spring I cannot resist taking more photos of them.

That single mottled vertical leaf is a trout lily, Erythronium albidum. There’s also a yellow version but I have never seen them here in central Missouri.

Mayapples have a single leaf and don’t flower until they’re at least four years old, when they also develop two leaves—I wrote about it, here: http://mycologista.blogspot.com/2011/05/young-mayapple-leaf-surprises.html

Kind of hard to not anthropomorphize about these. They look an awful lot like some kind of cloaked, dejected being. It doesn’t last long, though; soon they start straightening up, and unfurl their big wonderful leaves. Which I don’t have pictures of. I like these better.



Below: Lenzites betulina that grew, then the log rolled over and it grew some more and tropism led to wild growth patterns (normally it’s your basic shelf/shell shape), and then algae grew on it. When fresh it actually has gills, but this one's been banged around in life and the gills are shredded. Also, many other people's images show algae growing on it too.

Why it’s hard to find morels.

A growth of hundreds, if not thousands, of Coprinellus disseminatus, on a tree and spilling out around it (on submerged roots, I’m assuming). Some common names are “non-inky Coprinus,” “little helmet,” “crumble cap.” Fragile little things. Unlike other ink caps, these don’t dissolve within hours of emerging into a pile of wet black goo.


Above: close-up of Coprinellus disseminatus.

Below: Polyporus alveolaris, “hexagonal-pored polypore.” These really pop out on the mostly-brown spring forest floor (always on fallen branches). “What are those orange things over there?” is what you say when you see them.


If you can’t tell what they are from the top, the pore surface will help:

Something else I can’t stop taking more pictures of, Urnula craterium. They change pretty dramatically as they age. They start as little fingers, then expand into a wide velvety cone with a smooth rim, then this happens.

That's all for that day.

Young Mayapple leaf surprises

Once again, I am struck by how much I missed in all my earlier days in the forest, before I got completely consumed with macro photography and started to see things differently. "Oh, look, there's a mayapple," I'd say, having what turned out to be a sort of vague vision of them. I had seen the emerging young leaves before, when they were still twisted around the stem like a little rod ("candling"), but I had never noticed that sometimes there is one leaf, and sometimes there are two.

A single "candling" mayapple leaf, cool in and of itself

 But the double-leaved ones are pretty awesome:

Podopyllum peltatum, two leaves.

Double-leafed mayapple, with fuzzy leaf edges.

 

Don't know what to caption this, I am tongue-tied.

Here's a thing I read somewhere: "On plants with a single leaf, the petiole joins the leaf blade in the middle, creating an umbrella-like appearance; on plants with a pair of leaves, the petioles join the leaf blades toward the inner margin of each leaf blah blah blah blah blah." Well, that just says that sometimes there is one leaf and sometimes there are two, sorry. There was more info from the U. of Arkansas Agriculture Extension Service: "During the first several years, the mayapple leaf is round and unbranched, too juvenile to flower. When adulthood is reached, the stem...terminates in a "Y"-shaped fork with two leaves." So it has to do with how old the plant is. Now I know.

There's some other cool stuff about their lives on that site--mayapples don't just germinate, show up in spring and *poof* there's a flower and then fruit...it's a bit more complicated. I'll just say that they can count to four.