BLOG RERUN: Dr. Jane Bowles, a great botanist, friend and mentor

This blog post was originally posted on July 30th, 2013 in memory of Dr. Jane Bowles, the Herbarium Curator and Director of the Arboretum at Western University in London, Ontario. There are very few weeks that go by that I don't think of Jane, and I've even caught myself thinking "I have no idea what this plant is; I'll ask Jane when she gets back" like she's only out for coffee or something. Gone too fast and too young; I don't think I'm alone when I say she is dearly missed.

Species name: Acacia tortilis

Common name: umbrella acacia, Israeli babool (in Swahili: mgunga, mugumba or munga)

Location: all photos from Dave's Garden (photo 1 by DMersh, photo 2 by DMersh, and photo 3 by palmbob)

You might be wondering why I'm featuring this plant in my blog today; for a full explanation you can scroll down to the bottom of this blog post past the next plant profile. Umbrella acacia trees are probably one of the first plants that come to mind when you think of Africa. They are for me at least! They have an enormous native range, reaching from the north all the way to the south of Africa and into the Middle East. When I think of the African savannah, this is by far the first tree (and sometimes the only tree; I'll be the first to admit that my African botany knowledge is quite limited!) that comes to mind.

The umbrella acacia actually looks rarely like an umbrella when grown in cultivation. Because it is so extremely drought tolerant, it is often grown in climates where the type of ecosystem that prevails for most of the year is a dry, sandy desert. Here, the umbrella acacia looks more like an acacia with a bad hair day, and is very straggly and wiry. It is only when the young seedlings are exposed to large amounts of rain that the trees end up developing into the typical umbrella-shape that is so characteristic of the African savannah. That, and grazing animals that force the tree into that shape couldn't hurt; this tree is one of the preferred food sources of giraffes. The "umbrella" of the canopy begins where the branches are just out of reach from the giraffes and everything below that point is eaten away. That's not the only animal that eats the umbrella acacia: humans have also used this tree as a source of gum arabic (added to many, many food items), and the seed pods are used for various herbal medicines. The seeds may be eaten by humans but are rich in tannins so are usually avoided (but may be used as a source of natural dye instead!), however other grazing animals like small mammals or birds eat these seeds as a rich (and rare) source of protein and fat.

There are quite a few products made from the wood of this tree, and is one of the reasons why it is grown so much in cultivation in Africa and the Middle East. The wood is very important for fine woodworking products like wagon wheels and furniture, as well as raw lumber for fenceposts and animal pens. The tabernacle, built by Israelites in the Old Testament, was also exclusively built from wood of the umbrella acacia so it has important religious significance as well. It also has very high significance to more than 20 different groups of people (either groups defined by language, linguistic dialects, country lines, or cultural beliefs), but the most important of which for the purposes of this blog post is that it's the National Tree of Kenya.

Species name: Stylophorum diphyllum

Common name: wood poppy, Celandine poppy

Location: Dave's Garden -- DaylilySLP

I think this is probably the only critically endangered wildflower species that I've ever personally seen in Ontario. When I saw it I didn't realize what it was or how important it was, so I didn't bother photographing it despite having my camera with me. Next time! There are only three populations in Ontario, which is the most northern part of its native range (which extends into the United States and is still quite limited; it is now only a small fragment of what it used to be), ranging in population size from 42 individual plants to about 270 individual plants (at last reassessment in 2007). It is a victim of land use change (converting forests to agricultural land) and invasive understory species (like garlic mustard, which you can read all about HERE), which continue to threaten the last three populations in Canada.

Wood poppies are similar to bloodroot, another native species which grows on the forest floor in southwestern Ontario (which you can read all about HERE), in that they produce a rhizome in their first year of growth, and use the sugars stored in that rhizome to produce leaves every spring. The rhizome of one plant isn't nearly as long-lived as in bloodroot, with the lifespan of the average rhizome only being about 5 years. The plant rarely produces flowers in its first year of growth (except in cultivation; it has become a popular garden plant over the last decade or so), so it is sometimes mistaken for other wildflower species during that first year. The seed pods that the plant produces are very unusual and are far larger than you would expect from a plant as small as this one (rarely growing more than 20 cm off the ground) and also share seed characteristics with bloodroot. The seeds are produced with a fleshy, fatty outer covering called an elaiosome which attracts ants. The ants take the small seeds and carry them away to their underground chambers where they use the elaiosome as a rich food source, then discard the seeds when they are finished. The seeds then germinate the next spring and grow up through the ground to produce new plants. This ant-plant dispersal relationship is called myrmecochory. Other animals, if given the chance, will also consume the seeds (seeds were found in great numbers in mouse droppings near one of the remaining populations in Ontario).

Medicinally, despite having close relatives that produce morphine and codeine, this plant has no value. It does contain some alkaloids that may prove useful in some medicinal sense in the future, but right now there is no documented medical use of this plant either currently or historically as an Native North American herbal medicine. The alkaloid cocktail in the plant is more than likely toxic to humans, so avoiding grazing on the leaves if you grow this plant in your garden would be strongly suggested. Wearing gloves when gardening around this plant is also suggested, as the sap from the plant may irritate sensitive skin.

Unfortunately, the fact that this plant is now grown in cultivation and the source of these plants is not a native source (which is actually a good thing; wild-harvesting of this plant in Canada is illegal and would be extremely detrimental to the few plants left in the wild) means there is now the risk of genetically contaminating the remaining plants. The populations in Canada had their DNA sequenced and compared to the US populations and it was shown that these three populations are genetically distinct from their American counterparts. This doesn't mean there was enough difference for them to be considered different species, but there was enough of a difference for it to be noteworthy. When the pollen of a foreign population mixes with the ova of a native population to make seeds, the foreign DNA from the pollen contaminates the native population, effectively creating "genetic hybrids" of both populations. Since plants in cultivation are usually much more susceptible to disease than their wild counterparts, this could be really bad news for our last three native populations.

_________________________________________________________________________________

So why these two plants, you might be wondering? Well, these were the two plants I could best think of to commemorate the loss of a great botanist, my friend and mentor, Dr. Jane M. Bowles.

Jane grew up in Kenya, and some of the stories she shared about her childhood there are out of this world and beyond belief for someone that has lived in Canada their whole life (can you imagine growing up with a lion living in your front yard?! Mind-boggling to me!). She went to school in England, then moved to Canada to complete her PhD in botany about sand dune ecology at Pinery Provincial Park. Since the completion of her PhD, Jane was an adjunct professor in both Biology and Geography at Western and, most recently, the curator of the herbarium and the director of the arboretum.

I first met Jane at the field station associated with Western when I was out there with my supervisor searching for fungi in the woodlot at the back of the property. My supervisor introduced Jane as the curator of the herbarium (assuming I knew what a herbarium was; I was thinking "herbari-what?!"), and we went on our merry way. It wasn't until a couple of months later that I realized that, aside from my supervisor, Jane would probably be the single most important person (well, aside from myself, too, obviously) involved in the successful completion of my PhD. I rely so heavily on herbarium loans to look at historical mushroom specimens that I would have been completely lost without her. Not to mention that Jane was universally loved and respected by all herbarium curators around the world; with her as my primary source of communication to other herbaria I would have no problem having a loan in my possession two, three, sometimes four times longer than the period of time I was actually given. If you think that's bad it's not; it's not unheard of to have herbarium loans for 10 years or more!

Over the last 6 years I would say that Jane and I had become friends. I always knew I could count on her to provide me with a laugh thanks to her biting sense of humour, I could count on her for a swift kick in the bum to get myself in gear when I asked for it, and give me some helpful tips on how not to lose my sanity along the way. I would also say that her love for plants inspired me to grow to love them (sorry for the pun...actually, not sorry. That was carefully planned!), too. She taught me about the importance of native species, and drilled into my head the dangers of invasive non-native species. She opened my eyes to a whole new world of Biology: being a naturalist, and helping preserve the world for what it currently is and not try to change it to be what we want it to become to "improve our life" (it's often too late when we realize that having a giant forest was perhaps a bit better than yet another strip mall...).

Earlier this year, Jane was diagnosed with cancer. On Saturday, July 27th 2013, Jane lost her fight at Victoria Hospital. There won't be a day that goes by where I won't think of her, not a week that goes by during the rest of my time at Western that I won't remember one of her tidbits she told me, and not a year that goes by where I won't be reminded of what an amazing lady Jane was.

Goodbye, Jane. May your memory live on, and may you continue to inspire young impressionable scientists such as myself to become one with nature forever.

Jane was known for her amazing artistic abilities; this is one of her drawings 

of the wood poppy, which she drew for her co-authored species status report 

(you can read the most recent version HERE)

Dr. Jane Bowles: a great botanist, friend, and mentor

Species name: Acacia tortilis

Common name: umbrella acacia, Israeli babool (in Swahili: mgunga, mugumba or munga)

Location: all photos from Dave's Garden (photo 1 by DMersh, photo 2 by DMersh, and photo 3 by palmbob)

You might be wondering why I'm featuring this plant in my blog today; for a full explanation you can scroll down to the bottom of this blog post past the next plant profile. Umbrella acacia trees are probably one of the first plants that come to mind when you think of Africa. They are for me at least! They have an enormous native range, reaching from the north all the way to the south of Africa and into the Middle East. When I think of the African savannah, this is by far the first tree (and sometimes the only tree; I'll be the first to admit that my African botany knowledge is quite limited!) that comes to mind.

The umbrella acacia actually looks rarely like an umbrella when grown in cultivation. Because it is so extremely drought tolerant, it is often grown in climates where the type of ecosystem that prevails for most of the year is a dry, sandy desert. Here, the umbrella acacia looks more like an acacia with a bad hair day, and is very straggly and wiry. It is only when the young seedlings are exposed to large amounts of rain that the trees end up developing into the typical umbrella-shape that is so characteristic of the African savannah. That, and grazing animals that force the tree into that shape couldn't hurt; this tree is one of the preferred food sources of giraffes. The "umbrella" of the canopy begins where the branches are just out of reach from the giraffes and everything below that point is eaten away. That's not the only animal that eats the umbrella acacia: humans have also used this tree as a source of gum arabic (added to many, many food items), and the seed pods are used for various herbal medicines. The seeds may be eaten by humans but are rich in tannins so are usually avoided (but may be used as a source of natural dye instead!), however other grazing animals like small mammals or birds eat these seeds as a rich (and rare) source of protein and fat.

There are quite a few products made from the wood of this tree, and is one of the reasons why it is grown so much in cultivation in Africa and the Middle East. The wood is very important for fine woodworking products like wagon wheels and furniture, as well as raw lumber for fenceposts and animal pens. The tabernacle, built by Israelites in the Old Testament, was also exclusively built from wood of the umbrella acacia so it has important religious significance as well. It also has very high significance to more than 20 different groups of people (either groups defined by language, linguistic dialects, country lines, or cultural beliefs), but the most important of which for the purposes of this blog post is that it's the National Tree of Kenya.

Species name: Stylophorum diphyllum

Common name: wood poppy, Celandine poppy

Location: Dave's Garden -- DaylilySLP

I think this is probably the only critically endangered wildflower species that I've ever personally seen in Ontario. When I saw it I didn't realize what it was or how important it was, so I didn't bother photographing it despite having my camera with me. Next time! There are only three populations in Ontario, which is the most northern part of its native range (which extends into the United States and is still quite limited; it is now only a small fragment of what it used to be), ranging in population size from 42 individual plants to about 270 individual plants (at last reassessment in 2007). It is a victim of land use change (converting forests to agricultural land) and invasive understory species (like garlic mustard, which you can read all about HERE), which continue to threaten the last three populations in Canada.

Wood poppies are similar to bloodroot, another native species which grows on the forest floor in southwestern Ontario (which you can read all about HERE), in that they produce a rhizome in their first year of growth, and use the sugars stored in that rhizome to produce leaves every spring. The rhizome of one plant isn't nearly as long-lived as in bloodroot, with the lifespan of the average rhizome only being about 5 years. The plant rarely produces flowers in its first year of growth (except in cultivation; it has become a popular garden plant over the last decade or so), so it is sometimes mistaken for other wildflower species during that first year. The seed pods that the plant produces are very unusual and are far larger than you would expect from a plant as small as this one (rarely growing more than 20 cm off the ground) and also share seed characteristics with bloodroot. The seeds are produced with a fleshy, fatty outer covering called an elaiosome which attracts ants. The ants take the small seeds and carry them away to their underground chambers where they use the elaiosome as a rich food source, then discard the seeds when they are finished. The seeds then germinate the next spring and grow up through the ground to produce new plants. This ant-plant dispersal relationship is called myrmecochory. Other animals, if given the chance, will also consume the seeds (seeds were found in great numbers in mouse droppings near one of the remaining populations in Ontario).

Medicinally, despite having close relatives that produce morphine and codeine, this plant has no value. It does contain some alkaloids that may prove useful in some medicinal sense in the future, but right now there is no documented medical use of this plant either currently or historically as an Native North American herbal medicine. The alkaloid cocktail in the plant is more than likely toxic to humans, so avoiding grazing on the leaves if you grow this plant in your garden would be strongly suggested. Wearing gloves when gardening around this plant is also suggested, as the sap from the plant may irritate sensitive skin.

Unfortunately, the fact that this plant is now grown in cultivation and the source of these plants is not a native source (which is actually a good thing; wild-harvesting of this plant in Canada is illegal and would be extremely detrimental to the few plants left in the wild) means there is now the risk of genetically contaminating the remaining plants. The populations in Canada had their DNA sequenced and compared to the US populations and it was shown that these three populations are genetically distinct from their American counterparts. This doesn't mean there was enough difference for them to be considered different species, but there was enough of a difference for it to be noteworthy. When the pollen of a foreign population mixes with the ova of a native population to make seeds, the foreign DNA from the pollen contaminates the native population, effectively creating "genetic hybrids" of both populations. Since plants in cultivation are usually much more susceptible to disease than their wild counterparts, this could be really bad news for our last three native populations.

_________________________________________________________________________________

So why these two plants, you might be wondering? Well, these were the two plants I could best think of to commemorate the loss of a great botanist, my friend and mentor, Dr. Jane M. Bowles.

Jane grew up in Kenya, and some of the stories she shared about her childhood there are out of this world and beyond belief for someone that has lived in Canada their whole life (can you imagine growing up with a lion living in your front yard?! Mind-boggling to me!). She went to school in England, then moved to Canada to complete her PhD in botany about sand dune ecology at Pinery Provincial Park. Since the completion of her PhD, Jane was an adjunct professor in both Biology and Geography at Western and, most recently, the curator of the herbarium and the director of the arboretum.

I first met Jane at the field station associated with Western when I was out there with my supervisor searching for fungi in the woodlot at the back of the property. My supervisor introduced Jane as the curator of the herbarium (assuming I knew what a herbarium was; I was thinking "herbari-what?!"), and we went on our merry way. It wasn't until a couple of months later that I realized that, aside from my supervisor, Jane would probably be the single most important person (well, aside from myself, too, obviously) involved in the successful completion of my PhD. I rely so heavily on herbarium loans to look at historical mushroom specimens that I would have been completely lost without her. Not to mention that Jane was universally loved and respected by all herbarium curators around the world; with her as my primary source of communication to other herbaria I would have no problem having a loan in my possession two, three, sometimes four times longer than the period of time I was actually given. If you think that's bad it's not; it's not unheard of to have herbarium loans for 10 years or more!

Over the last 6 years I would say that Jane and I had become friends. I always knew I could count on her to provide me with a laugh thanks to her biting sense of humour, I could count on her for a swift kick in the bum to get myself in gear when I asked for it, and give me some helpful tips on how not to lose my sanity along the way. I would also say that her love for plants inspired me to grow to love them (sorry for the pun...actually, not sorry. That was carefully planned!), too. She taught me about the importance of native species, and drilled into my head the dangers of invasive non-native species. She opened my eyes to a whole new world of Biology: being a naturalist, and helping preserve the world for what it currently is and not try to change it to be what we want it to become to "improve our life" (it's often too late when we realize that having a giant forest was perhaps a bit better than yet another strip mall...).

Earlier this year, Jane was diagnosed with cancer. On Saturday, July 27th 2013, Jane lost her fight at Victoria Hospital. There won't be a day that goes by where I won't think of her, not a week that goes by during the rest of my time at Western that I won't remember one of her tidbits she told me, and not a year that goes by where I won't be reminded of what an amazing lady Jane was.

Goodbye, Jane. May your memory live on, and may you continue to inspire young impressionable scientists such as myself to become one with nature forever.

Jane was known for her amazing artistic abilities; this is one of her drawings 

of the wood poppy, which she drew for her co-authored species status report 

(you can read the most recent version HERE)

The original Stinking Benjamin

My appologies! For the last 4 days I've been at two different conferences, and so have been a wee busy. More regular blog postings are starting again tomorrow!

Species name: Trillium erectum

Common name: red trillium, wake-robin, stinking Benjamin

Location: Nova Scotia

I took this photo while out with Tanya on a guided excursion of an area in Nova Scotia called Cape Split. Felt like a walk up a mountain carrying the pack mule with all of its stuff, to be rewarded with a beautiful view of the Bay of Fundy. Once we were done absorbing the view we started our (incredibly short) trek back down the "mountain", only to find out that the walk wasn't all that long at all! The red trillium is native to Eastern North America, especially the Maritime provinces.

Most of the 40-50 species in the Trillium genus are at risk of population decline across their entire range. Despite this, there is only one species that is protected by law in Ontario against picking since it is officially a threatened species and has a greatly reduced population size. The common white trillium, the provincial flower of Ontario, is only prohibited from being picked in Provincial and National Parks, and on land owned and controlled by a Conservation Authority. In the United States, it is illegal to pick trillium flowers in Michigan, Minnesota and New York. This isn't because it's a threatened species, it's because picking the flower prevents the bracts and leaves from making sugars to be stored for the next year's growth. This impedes the growth and reproductive abilities pretty severely of the trillium. The white trillium is also the state flower of Ohio, and the official government emblem of the Ontario Government. Like the Jack in the Pulpit plant, the trillium is characterized by having flower parts and leaves in multiples of three: three petals, three sepals, and three leaves. This makes the plant trifolate, and a monocot.

Red trillium flowers are definitely not suitable for picking for the dinner table. A dark red-purple colour in flowers often indicates that they will smell terrible, like rotting meat. This implies the flowers are pollinated by animals attracted to rotting meat, usually flies. Like another native Ontario wildflower, bloodroot, the seeds of the red trillium are dispersed via ants (called myrmecochory). The ants are attracted to the fruit of the flower because of the fleshy elaiosome that surrounds the seed. This elaiosome contains lots of lipids (fats) and proteins, which the ants use as a rich source of nutrition. Once the ants have consumed the elaiosome, they transport the seeds into their disposal chambers underground where they can germinate the next spring and grow into a new trillium plant. Despite this complex association between trilliums and ants, these plants rarely actually reproduce sexually via their seeds. Like many of the spring wildflowers that I've blogged about so far, trilliums have rhizomes that store nutrients for the plants to use to grow the next spring.

To my knowledge, there is no medicinal or nutritive benefits (either perceived or actual) of consuming specifically the red trillium (although, there are stories about other species of trillium having medicinal value in preventing and treating bloody diarrhea). It contains calcium oxalate crystals in a special form called a raphide, which would make the plant toxic to consume by humans. The crystals can perforate the intestines and cause ulcers. Plus, I don't imagine they taste very good!

Bloodroot: a native North American wildflower

UPDATE: Mi compadre (aka my friend) Aaron alerted me to a very interesting experimental application of this plant in controlling another plant I blogged about, garlic mustard (see, even I'm learning things while writing this blog!). When bloodroot rhizomes are over-planted very densely where garlic mustard is prevalent (especially in shady areas) it can out-compete it for resources, and gradually it starts to die off. A fantastic idea of using native plant species in environments where they naturally thrive to eradicate invasive weeds. Brilliant!

Species name: Sanguinaria canadensis

Common name: Bloodroot, bloodwort, red puccoon root, pauson

Location: Ontario

Bloodroot is a species of native North American wildflower that grows from Nova Scotia to Ontario, and further south in the United States down to Florida and Mississippi. It flowers usually from March to May when the ground is still quite cold, and can grow in a wide variety of soil types (but preferring sandy soils, as in the first photo).

This plant was originally used in Native American medicine as a treatment for breathing problems and as an emetic. The roots were cut into small pieces, and then steeped in hot water like to make tea. The tea would then be consumed. I wouldn't recommend that today, since we now know that bloodroot is a poisonous plant, and topical application can lead to intense pain and scarring. The dark side of this plant's "medicinal" use today is as on of the USA's "187 cancer 'cures' consumers should avoid". It seems like if a plant produces any kind of effect on the body, someone will try to pass it off as a cure for cancer. For bloodroot's case, the roots have been made into a paste and sold as a cure for skin cancer and breast cancer, leading to massive deformation and pain in both circumstances. The lesson to be learned here is that just because it's "natural" doesn't mean it's good for you!

Today, this plant is still used for its roots, but not in a medicinal sense. The roots really are red, and really do "bleed" like you would expect from its name. This is of great use as a natural red dye for fabrics and plastics or as a paint (but again should not be added to food products because of the danger it poses).

The reproduction of this plant and the way that it relies on animals is one of the most fascinating in the plant kingdom. The fleshy surrounding of the fruit attracts ants, which carry away the seeds into their underground colonies. The ants will feed on the fruit, leaving the seed intact because it has a very tough and thick seed coat. The ants probably feel it's not worth the effort to try to break through the seed coat. Once ants are done with the fruit, they carry the seeds into their "waste rooms" in their colonies to discard of them. This puts the seeds in a nutrient-rich environment, where they will stay until the next spring. They grow out of the soil, and start their life anew. This type of symbiosis with ants for seed dispersal is called myrmecochory.

Despite this incredibly complex association with ants, most of the bloodroot plants you see in one area are not grown from seed. These plants also produce an underground storage tissue called a rhizome (think of ginger; that's a rhizome) from which a new sprout can form and emerge above-ground. Every year the sugars the plant produces in the leaves are shuttled down to the rhizome where they are converted into starch and stored for the next year's growth. Every "patch" of bloodroot in an area are produced from this underground rhizome network, not from seeds. Since the plant is then no longer relying on external inputs for growth (instead breaking that starch back down into sugar and using that to grow), they can grow much earlier in the season than other plants around it.