Our native Magnolias

I had planned to go into much greater detail about Magnolias this spring, but found myself a bit caught off guard by our strange weather, which seemed to cause spring to not only come quick, but to also progress at a much faster rate than I would have anticipated. Most of our native Magnolias however flower in late spring or early summer, so were a bit protected from this. I'm probably not going to do a big entry like this for a while as gathering all the pictures I need takes quite a bit of time, but for now, we'll continue with one of my favorite genera, Magnolia.

Southern Magnolia (Magnolia grandiflora)

The Southern Magnolia (Magnolia grandiflora) is probably what would come to most people's mind when thinking of a native member of the genus. During my time living in New England I can only think of two or three which I saw growing at all, both in heavily protected locations and one of which had a noticeable yellow hue to the foliage throughout the winter months. It's for this reason I was a bit surprised to see the species flowering last week here in Delaware. Even though I'm now living in the range where these can be grown quite a bit more easily, I had still envisioned them as a species which flowered a bit later in the summer. Apparently, this is not the case. Still, it is an interesting plant not only for the large, white flowers, but also for its thick, leathery, evergreen foliage which on some plants has a heavy, brown pubescence to the underside. One of the hardiest cultivars, 'Bracken's Brown Beauty', has such a heavy pubescence the undersides of the leaves appear a dark brown in color, and is probably one of the best choices for those feeling courageous and wanting to grow the species in New England (I've also seen 'Edith Bogue' performing quite well).

Sweetbay Magnolia (Magnolia virginiana)

Up in New England, its much more common to see the Sweetbay Magnolia (Magnolia virginiana) in the landscape, though there is one wild population known in Massachusetts. It's considered to be "Semi-evergreen", as many leaves will often remain on the plant through the winter months. I've seen this vary immensely from tree to tree. The vast majority of plants I witnessed in New England would have few if any leaves present on the tree by February, probably 5% leaf cover at maximum, though there was one plant in Boston I remember being surprised to still have something like 75% cover even after a cold winter. When I moved to Delaware, as expected many of the trees held more leaves, and though the winter here was very mild this year, one plant seemed to still have nearly 90% leaf cover in the coldest week of January.
The flowers are quite nice as well, and though they are noticeably a bit smaller than that of the other Magnolias I'm describing here, they do tend to bloom for a longer period of time as far as I can tell. I've heard of their fragrance being described as somewhat lemony.

Cucumbertree (Magnolia acuminata)

The Cucumbertree is different from the above two species first as it is fully deciduous and thus holds no foliage over the winter months, and second, is one of only a few magnolias which is not considered to have a particularly showy flower. Personally, I find it to be quite interesting even if admittedly less attractive due to the waxy appearance and greyish, maybe blue-green color to the outside of the petals (defintley more green in the photo above). I'll actually often refer to it as my favorite Magnolia in order to be a contrarian, which is probably not much of a surprise to anyone who knows me personally. Anyway, the Cucumbertree is also quite important in Magnolia breeding as it is the source of the yellow color found in the flowers of many magnolia hybrids, such as 'Elizabeth', 'Butterflies', and 'Yellow Bird'. The name Cucumbertree is in reference to the fruit, an aggregate of multiple follicles which resembles a cucumber, especially before it has fully ripened. Other Magnolias also have an aggregate fruit, but it generally tends to resemble a cone-like structure, often seen on the ground with several red follicles emerging from the black rotting "cone".

Umbrella Magnolia (Magnolia tripetala)

Auriculate leaf base of Magnolia fraseri

And for comparison, Magnolia tripetala,
which lacks this base

The next two species, the Umbrella Magnolia (Magnolia tripetala) and the Fraser Magnolia (Magnolia fraseri) are very similar species and are often confused in the trade, but can be reliably distinguished from each other so long as you know what you're looking for. The base of the leaf blade of the Fraser Magnolia is auriculate, meaning it has two earlobe-like projections which extend towards the petiole (the stalk holding the leaf blade). The leaf of the Umbrella Magnolia has no such projections, instead narrowing to a point on either side of the blade. Both these trees flower quite nicely, with the Fraser Magnolia often having a flower which stands upright for a long period of time, whereas the Umbrella Magnolia has a flower which many find to have a rather disagreeable fragrance.

The Bigleaf Magnolia (Magnolia macrophylla) is a deciduous tree fairly similar to the above two species, but distinct enough that I credit it as being the tree that got me interested in botany and horticulture. When first seeing the plant, with its large undulating leaves spanning almost the entire length of my arm, as well as the huge flower buds that would soon open to reveal proportionally huge flowers, I found myself almost instantly questioning and challenging my perceptions on what a tree was. I'd always had a bit of an interest in plants, trees in particular, but it wasn't I saw this one that I really made it a point to learn more. I'd soon realize there was a lot more to plants than "the green things that don't move", and gain an appreciation for biodiversity which would alter my career and educational plans from that point on. Embarrassingly enough, I actually don't have all that many photos of it to share. I do however have a nice closeup of the closely related species Magnolia ashei (Ashe Magnolia), which is very similar though has a distinct purple blush towards the base of the tepals which the Bigleaf Magnolia lacks. The Ashe Magnolia is also interestingly endemic to (only found within) the Florida Panhandle, though it grows quite well when planted as far north as Boston.

Ashe's Magnolia (Magnolia ashei)

On a personal note, I'm finding myself wrapping up my first year of graduate school and still really enjoying the experience. I'm heading deep into doing my thesis research over the summer which looks to involve quite a bit of time in the library as well as some lab work, but I plan to still find some time to wander out into the gardens as well and hopefully get some photos of a few more plants that pique my interest.

The inevitable Styrax entry

It's been a while, but I ironically have a bit of an opening in my schedule right now as I've wrapped up everything for the school year save for one final. It's almost a week away though, so I'm not quite down to crunch time yet.

The topic of this entry is Styrax, or the Snowbells. It was inevitable that I'd write about this group of plants at some point, as they form the basis for my master's thesis at the University of Delaware. They're also one of the few non-magnolia related taxa I've been obsessively photographing as of late which is really what's leading to them being featured right now.

Styrax is known but not overwhelmingly popular horticulturally, really restricted to only two species: Styrax japonicus, the Japanese Snowbell, and Styrax obassia, the Fragrant Snowbell. Even horticulture enthusiasts are surprised to learn that the diversity of the group is much broader, containing an estimated 130 trees and shrubs found growing mainly in East Asia and the Americas.

Styrax japonicus 'Emerald Pagoda'

Generally speaking, the genus consists of trees and shrubs which flower very prolifically in the late spring. The flowers are white and though small in size, I feel make up for it in abundance. Note how unlike the Magnolias I've been featuring heavily on this blog, the flowers on the stems of Styrax are borne all the way down the stem instead of just existing as a single flower at the end of the stem. That's due to these plants having inflorescences which are axillary as opposed to terminal.

Styrax japonicus 'Pink Chimes'
The pink flower color is nice, but does tend to fade to
white quite readily as soon as the late spring or
early summer heat approaches.

The Japanese Snowbell is by far the most common species of Styrax in the trade. There are several selections of the species, including the weeping form 'Carilon', the (somewhat) pink-flowered 'Pink Chimes', though I personally prefer 'Emerald Pagoda', pictured above, which looks like the species but on steroids. The flowers are larger, the leaves are larger and somewhat of a darker green in color, and the selection overall seems to resemble a superior form of the species.

As the common name suggests, the species is native to Japan, but is also found throughout a rather large area of China and Korea. In addition to being the most popular species horticuturally, it is also probably the most common of the group in the wild.

Styrax obassia, the "Fragrant" Snowbell

The only other species with much horticultural significance currently is the Fragrant Snowbell, Styrax obassia. Unlike the above species, it's only found in China, albeit has a more northern range so there is some thought it might be a little more suited to the cold than the Japanese Snowbell. Where the name "Fragrant Snowbell" comes from, I have no idea, as I would describe the flowers as having if anything, a subtle disagreeable fragrance.

The picture to the left doesn't make the plant seem like much, which is partially due to the large leaves of the species. One of the most common complaints about the plant even dating back to the time of its first introduction is that the flowers are often obstructed by the large leaves of the species, unless they are viewed from underneath.

Styrax obassia from a lower, closer vantage point

A similar species, which is virtually unknown in horticulture as far as I can tell, is Styrax hemsleyanus. Were there a common name, it would probably be something like "Hemsley's Snowbell", which raises the question as to who Hemsely is. The species is named for William Botting Hemsely, a british botanist living from 1843-1924. The smooth, glabrous, leaves of the species are a rather good identification characteristic.

Styrax hemsleyanus

Styrax grandifolius (Bigleaf Snowbell)

Of the species native to North America, there are two found growing in the Southeast and S Central United states, whereas the remaining species are typically more Southwestern in their distribution. The two southeastern species are Styrax americanus, the American Snowbell, and Styrax grandifolius, the Bigleaf Snowbell. Unlike the previous plants discussed, these are both shrubs rather than trees. The two species are very closely to each other, though the Bigleaf Snowbell can usually be differentiated, not surprisingly, by the size of it's leaves. It also tends to be a bigger plant overall, sometimes approaching the height of a small tree.

Styrax americanus (American Snowbell)

The American Snowbell is starting to become a favorite of mine, though the flowers are albeit quite small, I think they look quite interesting due to the reflexed nature of the petals (mostly evident on the central flower in the above photo as the plant was still just beginning to flower). This is in contrast to most of the other species in which the petals hang down in a more pendulous manner.

So there you have it, now you know five species of Styrax, which is probably three more than most people, but still less than 5% of the group. Though these plants are starting to grow on me, I don't think there's all that much special about them when out of flower. Still though, it's a nice and quite diverse group of spring flowering trees it would be nice to see more of.

a few photos from my trip to NC

It's been a good two weeks since I got back from my trip to North Carolina, and I still have a few photos that I'm looking to share despite that I don't have time right now to really do a full writeup like I usually do.

We're definitely getting into the later parts of the spring semester now and I'm starting to feel a bit of a time crunch. I'm finding that as a new graduate student I'm constantly having to juggle four rather sizeable projects: taking classes, teaching classes, doing research for my thesis, and working for the botanic gardens. I found it a bit difficult to prioritize it all at first: the teaching and botanic garden work is what pays for me to be here, but in the end its doing well with the coursework and putting together a good thesis that will allow me to stay here and receive a degree. The way I usually end up weighing it out is to make sure I can keep all the balls in the air but be absolutely certain that the coursework one never touches the ground... easier said than done though, especially in some of the courses based more on cumulative memorization where you're responsible for a large amount of material by the end. Ironically doing this blog over the winter actually helped me out a bit when taking Plant Taxonomy this semester as I had a little bit of a jump start when it came to flower parts and fruit types and such. Still a little ways to go though, the carpel concept still seems to be eluding me...

Bletilla striata

Anyway, spring has been weird here, as it has just about anywhere else. The hot temperatures pushed the early to mid spring Magnolias out about a month earlier than I was anticipating seeing them, and then the temperatures dropped a bit slowing everything down. Unfortunately, some of the mid-late spring Magnolias I was hoping to cover here seem to be some of those plants that got caught in the middle, getting close to their peak just about at the same time the cold snap hit. I've been keeping an eye on them, but there's still a few too many dead flowers on the plant at any given time to really get a good photo. Now with another heat wave who knows what will happen. I did however see the Magnolia tripetala and Calycanthus floridus blooming which I'm hoping to get a few photos of so maybe I'll find some time to talk about those in the future.

Anyway, in no particular order (well, in the order I took them), here are a few photos from my trip to the JC Raulston Arboretum and elsewhere in Raleigh, NC.

A Crepe Myrtle,  or Lagerstroemia. Despite that these are frequently dismissed by horticulturists as "Crap Myrtles' due to their ubiquitous use in the Southeastern US, I still consider myself a New Englander for the time being and think of this as a 5' max shrub, so seeing this champion at the JC Raulston Arboretum was quite impressive.

This is Equisetum. I think it's a real neat plant and am likely to blog about it again later so this won't be the last time you see this photo. This is actually from the North Carolina Botanic Gardens in Chapel Hill, NC.

Styrax, the plants I'm doing my M.S. Thesis on, were not in bloom, so this is an image of a close relative, Sinojackia rehderiana (Rehder Jacktree). A pretty nice tree I think, though it apparently has some disease issues.

Magnolia liliiflora, one of the parents of the Saucer Magnolia... now just need to get a picture of the other one...

A saw a ton of Redbuds (Cercis canadensis) on the drive down to NC, particularly in the parts of I 95 in Southern Virginia . The JC Raulston Arboretum has the national collection of Redbuds, but most of them were actually finishing their bloom by the time I was down there. Redbuds are also known for flowering prolifically on the stem, as this plant is (not sure if it is C. canadensis or another species)

An obligatory Magnolia photo. This is 'Coral Lake'

This is a stand of Loblolly Pines (Pinus taeda), at a State Park I drove through right before heading back up to NC. I like this photo as when looking from top to bottom, you can really see how much of a scar a paved road leaves on an ecosystem.

Well, those are my featured photos... figured I'd get them up before they're too far out of date. Hope to be talking about Magnolias and Calycanthus soon!

my new sworn enemy: the brown marmorated stink bug

So I was down in North Carolina earlier this week to do some preliminary work on my thesis, mostly at the JC Raulston Arboretum at NC State University, but also at the North Carolina Botanical Gardens in Chapel Hill. Great trip overall, I'm tempted to move down there. I have roughly 200 or so photos I still need to go through before figuring out what I want to blog about next. Though there is still plenty to do on Magnolias, I have a few great Redbud photos I'd like to show you (also might mention Sinojackia, which is closer to the kinds of plants I actually went down there to look at). For now though, I'm going to take a brief break from plants to talk about a creature which has plagued my existence since I moved here: The Brown Marmorated Stinkbug.

Brown Marmorated Stink Bug (Halyomorpha halys)

I've never taken an Entomology course and all I have for an insect reference is a butterfly field guide which is not particularly relevant, so based on my Wikipedia research, I understand that the Stinkbugs comprise family Pentatomidae, all sharing a common "shield-shaped" body structure and tendency to emit a foul odor when disturbed. The Brown Marmorated Stink Bug is an Asian species that hitchhiked into our country sometime in the mid-nineties, and seems to particularly enjoy the Mid-Atlantic regions where it is predominately observed.

Growing up in New England I was vaguely aware of what a stinkbug was... I thought of them as being green in color (probably thinking of a different species) and was under the impression killing them would result in the release of a foul odor. I'm not sure if I ever actually saw one though. I would however, become intimately acquainted with them as soon as I entered Delaware. When I first visited the state last year, there were a few of them wandering around the house I was staying in, so I essentially was in Delaware for a mere four hours before encountering the ubiquitous pest. I actually found one in my truck during my drive back to Boston. Thankfully it was dead, so I won't be credited with introducing the species to New England.

When I first moved here, I remember seeing a few of them, as well as a few spiders, crawling along my bedroom walls. I figured the spiders were keeping them in check so I didn't do much about it. A few stinkbugs were no big deal. As long as they kept their numbers small, their noise levels down, and stayed off of me and out of my bed, I could handle it.

This all worked out fine until one fall day. I was studying for my first Biochemistry exam, and while in a state of panic trying to wrap my mind around kinetics and first order rate constants, noticed that the Stinkbug population in my bedroom had increased by a factor of ten. They were swarming all over both of my windows, making their way in through the cracks and rapidly establishing themselves on my walls, bed, and orchids.

Apparently this swarming effect is a result of an aggregation chemical they release. There was about to be a stinkbug party in my room, and they were apparently texting all their friends.

This still wasn't enough to make me stop studying, as I was pretty stressed out for the test, though I had noted that I would probably need to do something about this shortly. The threshold was not crossed until a bunch of them got a bit belligerent and decided where they really wanted to be was in the lamp at the other side of the room. Now if you haven't heard these things when they fly, they make a racket: particularly when they are all flying around in the same place. That was the breaking point. I threw my book down, and carried and probably close to forty of them into the bathroom where they were deposited into and flushed down the toilet. I got a B+ on the test, and had no more significant problems with Stinkbugs for the next six months.

Now with the spring temperatures, they've become a bit more active again. I should have probably taken the fact that one of them made some kind of bizarre kamikaze attack at me last month (charging into my face from the other side of the room) as a sign that the war was back on. I thought the truce was still good. But they crossed the line again this week. After getting back from North Carolina, I was just falling asleep and rolled over a bit, thinking I felt something on my cheek but thinking nothing of it. I soon heard this weird buzz, characteristic of a stinkbug trying to fly, and then was next greeted by a the foul cilantro-like odor. Stinkbug blasted me in the face at point-blank range. The essence was still with me for a good few hours the next morning. This was obviously not appreciated by me, and I have now issued a personal "exterminate on sight" order.

Apparently the stinkbug is considered more of an agricultural pest than a residential pest in the state, though I certainly find them an annoyance, and hope to make the species realize that the foul odor they release when being disturbed is nothing near as severe as what happens when they disturb me.


Though I guess it could have been worse. Could have been Delaware's new invasive pest. the Nutria.

Actually I really wish I hadn't thought of that. Now I'm haunted by the idea of rolling over during the night to find my face up against a wet 2' long rat. Luckily they're still only in Southern Delaware... i think...

Magnolia kobus, stellata, and x loebneri (with a little bit about hybrid naming)

In my last post about the Saucer Magnolia, I mentioned there was another popular magnolia also blooming now: the Star Magnolia or Magnolia stellata. It's very closely related to the Kobus Magnolia (Magnolia kobus), to the point where some taxonomists consider it the Star Magnolia to be a variety of it (Magnolia kobus var. stellata). There is also a hybrid of the Kobus and Star Magnolia, the Loebner Magnolia, Magnolia x loebneri.

Magnolia x loebneri 'Merril'

As I mentioned last time, the Saucer Magnolia (Magnolia x soulangeana) is a hybrid of two asian Magnolias: The combination of the Yulan Magnolia (Magnolia denudata) as the seed parent, and the Lily Magnolia (Magnolia liliiflora) as the pollen parent. So where does the "x soulangeana" part of the name come from? Some hybrids, particularly those which are either naturally occurring or common in the trade with many named cultivars, will be formally named and described by botanists. This allows the Saucer Magnolia to have a slightly less complicated botanic name, as were it not described, the plant would be referred to by using a hybrid formula (Magnolia denudata x liliiflora), which gets to be a bit unwieldy.

Rarely, you might actually see described intergeneric hybrids (pollen and seed plants of two different genera), such as x Sorbaronia alpina, a hybrid between Sorbus aria (Whitebeam) and Aronia arbutifolia (Red Chokecherry).  In this case, since the hybrid is between two species of two different genera as opposed to between two species of the same genus, the "X" proceeds the name of the genus, which in this case is an amalgam of its two parent genera.

A graft where the stem (above) is noticeable outgrowing the
rootstock (below). From Wikipedia's article on Grafting. 

Even more rarely, you might see a name resembling the above, but proceed by a "+", as in +Crataegomespilus. This indicates a graft chimera between Crataegus (Hawthorn) and Mespilus (Medlar). Graft chimeras are weird, there's no way around it, and two my knowledge there are only a scant few known to exist.
For those who may be unaware, grafting is basically when you take the stem of one plant, and attach it to the rootstock of another plant. This is commonly done with fruit trees: you don't necessarily want to let your apple trees get up to 40 feet tall since that makes it a lot harder to harvest the fruit. By taking the stem of the apple tree you like the fruit of and grafting it to the rootstock of a smaller growing apple tree, you can control the adult height of the plant. I unfortunately don't have any of my own photos of the process to share, but there are many available at Wikipedia's article on Grafting.
The graft in the photo above is quite clean, but in many cases the rootstock may send up stems of its own as well.

A graft chimera is when the resulting grafted plant has three distinct types of shoots or stems: shoots of the grafted stem, shoots of the rootstock, and shoots which oddly enough have characteristics of both of the plants. These are quite rare, and you're unlikely to come across them, but I think its an interesting example of some of the odd things that plants can do.

Moving back to Magnolias, we'll start out with a straight species...

Kobus Magnolia (Magnolia kobus)

An old, now deceased Kobus Magnolia at the Arnold Arboretum

I've seen the Kobus Magnolia quite frequently in Botanic Gardens, but less frequently in the residential landscape. I suspect it's displaced in the trade by the Star and Loebner Magnolias, as those tend to flower a bit more heavily as well as at a younger age. I find the flowers of the Kobus Magnolia to be a bit larger in general however.

The species is native to Japan mostly, though is also found in South Korea. The name "Kobus" is apparently dervied from the Japanese common name for the species, Kobushi. I have no idea what kobushi means.

Embarrassingly enough, I don't currently have a picture of the Magnolia stellata (Star Magnolia), though I did heavily photograph the one at the Rose Kennedy Greenway during my two years there. Here's a link to a 4/25/11 article I wrote on the species while working there, which includes a good photograph of the plant framed by One International Place in the background.

The Star Magnolia is actually fairly rare in the wild, currently found only in Honshu, Japan. It has long been in cultivation however, with many popular cultivars such as 'Centennial', ' Royal Star', and 'Waterlily'. The name stellata refers to the shape of the flowers, which resemble stars.

Magnolia x loebneri 'Leonard Messel'

The Loebner Magnolia (Magnolia x loebneri or Magnolia kobus var. loebneri) is a hybrid of the Star and Kobus Magnolias. Like the Saucer Magnolia, its not a natural hybrid, as the native ranges of these two species (or varieties) don't overlap, so they were never really introduced to each other without human help. The hybrid is named for a german breeder, M. Loebner, who made the first hybrids and introduced the species into cultivation.

Magnolia x loebneri 'Ballerina' 

Still cultivated today, It seems to be about as popular as the Star Magnolia, though it has its own niche in the landscape as it tends to grow about 10' higher, owing to its heritage from the Kobus Magnolia. Fortunately, it still flowers at quite a young age/

There are quite a few popular cultivars of the Loebner Magnolia, 'Leonard Messel' (Pictured above) is arguably the most so, owning to its distinct flowers which have petals (well, we should probably use the term "tepals", but more on that later) that are pink on the outside and white on the inside.

'Merril', also pictured above, tends to flower at a younger age than other Loebner Magnolias and is also quite a popular cultivar.

Though I photographed entirely white cultivars save for 'Leonard Messel', pink is not an uncommon color for this species, and many cultivars will have at least some pink, and sometimes flowers which are pink when first emerging from the bud but mature to white. I'm not sure I've ever seen a cultivar with a pure pink flower though.

Magnolia x loebneri 'Ballerina' 

I haven't seen 'Ballerina' quite as much as the other two, but it's a bit smaller than 'Merril', and as is evident by comparing the two photos, it has far more petals (...or tepals) per flower. I'm honestly not quite sure which of the two I prefer... is more petals preferable or does it just make the flower look more crowded? Maybe I'm just waiting for a Star Magnolia that really wows me and I haven't come across one yet. These are probably my least favorite of the spring-flowering magnolias... I prefer the rarer Magnolia salicifolia to it as they seem to flower for a bit longer, albiet never explode into bloom quite as much as the Star and Loebner Magnolias. However, I still enjoy watching the Star Magnolias come into bloom this time of year, and they are probably the first spring-flowering tree I get excited about.

Still have a few more magnolias to talk about, and at some point I'll go into the characteristics of the Magnolia Family (as well as this mysterious "tepal" term I kept trying to drop).

Saucer Magnolias in march

Saucer Magnolia (Magnolia x soulangeana) outside of
Worrilow Hall at the University of Delaware

In the month when we would generally be expecting to see snowdrops and the earliest few daffodils flowering, we're instead greeted by cherries and magnolias in full bloom. The whole situation has me feeling a bit uneasy... maybe it's just that I grew up in New England, but I'm still fearing a late frost or snowstorm will decimate this premature spring landscape. A quick look at the extended forecast however shows no such thing, so maybe we're safe.
Were I still a full-time horticulturist, I'm sure I'd be feeling a further sense of panic as my busy season would be starting up far before I had planned, but now as a full-time student, maybe I can afford to take a relatively worry-free approach to the early arrival of the spring flora, and in particular my personal favorite, the magnolias.

My interest in the genus began the first time I saw Magnolia macrophylla, a native summer-flowering species I'll discuss on this blog a bit later. I didn't pay as much attention to the spring flowering species until doing a year-round internship at the Polly Hill Arboretum, where one of my projects involved recording the flowering status of the magnolia collection on a weekly basis.




I was surprised to see the Magnolias burst into full flower so quickly this year, as I usually notice a solid gap between the time when the Star Magnolias (Magnolia stellata) start, and when the Saucer Magnolias join them. Though Magnolia biondii entered bloom about when expected, I recall seeing a few Star Magnolias breaking bud, then when I checked again a few days later a good half of the UD Magnolia collection was approaching full bloom.
Though I certainly enjoy the Star Magnolias, I find their flowers a bit flimsy in comparison to those species flowering later in the season, with the Saucer Magnolia one of the first to begin the trend. Maybe it's the size of the flowers (sometimes reaching 10" in diameter), or the way the thickness of the petals give the flower a more "solid" appearance than much of what else is in bloom this time of year.

The Saucer Magnolia is actually a hybrid between two asian species, the Yulan Magnolia (Magnolia denudata) and the Lily Magnolia (Magnolia liliiflora). The Yulan Magnolia was long cultivated in asia for its pure white flowers, and the Lily Magnolia is a shrubbier species with pink flowers. The offspring has found a home in our landscape, as is probably one of the two more commonly planted and easily recognizable of the spring-flowering Magnolias (the other being the Star Magnolia).

Magnolia x soulangeana 'Sundew'

All the above images are of the standard hybrid, but I also witnessed the cultivar 'Sundew', which based on what I just read at the Magnolia Society's Cultivar Checklist, is an older cultivar which may possibly have some relationship to Magnolia cambellii. It also appears to be somewhat uncommon, or at least I would assume so based on it's notable absence from Dirr's Manual of Woody Landscape Plants and Callaway's The World of Magnolias.

Though Saucer Magnolias often struggle in less mild springs, with an early warm snap followed by a late frost almost certain to kill off the emerging flowers, when it does flower successfully, I find its firm, upright flowers a sign that spring has arrived, albeit surprisingly early in this case.

Took many pictures of magnolias on Saturday (with many more to come next week) so probably plenty more magnolia posts to come over the next few days. Next time I'll probably talk about Magnolia kobus and Magnolia x loebneri. Until then there's always plenty about Magnolias on the Magnolia Society's facebook page.

A few native pines

Though spring is rapidly approaching, with snowdrops and some of the earliest daffodils and crocuses already appearing (as well as flowering cherries and magnolias in some places), the canopy still looks noticeable sparse as our deciduous trees have yet to show signs of leafing out, the only green up high provided by either broadleaf evergreens such as the American Holly (Ilex opaca), or the needles of conifers such as the pines.

The evergreen nature, as well as their distinct needles make members of the Pine Family (Pinaceae) one of the easiest groups of trees for the less botanically inclined to identify: Pines have needles, other trees have leaves. The strength of this distinction holds well in plant taxonomy, as it is actually made at the phylum (or division) level, which as you remember is the second category after kingdom: this is indicative of the fact that Conifers and deciduous trees took a different evolutionary path quite a long time ago, with deciduous trees and other flowering plants or angiosperms branching off from the conifers sometime in the Cretaceous Period 65,000,000 to 145,000,000 years ago.

Regardless, needles are considered to be the leaves of the pine: they photosynthesize and have similar anatomy, they're simply round instead of flat, and have a tendency to stay on the tree for more than one year (2-5 is probably a good range). They also usually have a thick waxy cuticle that leaves of most deciduous trees lack.

Pines are distinguished from their relatives such as Spruces, Firs, and Hemlocks in that they have needles borne on the stem of a plant in groups of two or more in a structure called a fascicle, as opposed to being borne singly.

Small grove of Eastern White Pines (Pinus strobus) at the University of Delaware

Cone of Pinus strobus

The Eastern White Pine (Pinus strobus) can easily be distinguished from the other pines listed here as they have five needles per fascicle as opposed to two or three. The needles are also a good deal thinner, less prickly to the touch, and give the tree in general a much softer appearance, even when viewed from a distance. The tree usually reaches a height of 50-80 feet in height, and can also grow quite quickly, sometimes upwards of two feet a year. It is unfortunately very intolerant of pollution, making it quite difficult to grow in urban settings.

Pinus palustris (Longelaf Pine)

Longleaf Pine (Pinus palustris) is a more southern species, and quite easily identifiable due to the sheer length of its needles: they can approach upwards of a foot. There are some other pines which get as long or even longer, but in tropical, not temperate areas. The terminal bud on the stem is also a good ID characteristic, being large and white, though probably unnecessary given how distinct the leaves are.

The growth habit of Longleaf Pine is also somewhat interesting: for the first seven years of its life, it looks more or less like a grass, barely reaching a foot in height. It is however in the process of developing a root system, and once established, it rapidly increases in height, usually getting to about 60' but in some cases well over 100'. This growth habit actually makes the Longleaf Pine an undesirable plant for foresters, as the amount of time it spends in the "grass stage" makes it rather economically nonviable in terms of wood production.

Close up of the needles of Pinus palustris. Almost wish I had my hand in the frame for size comparison, but regardless, you'll know this species when you see it.

And in colder weather...

The next three pines are a bit less distinct: Pitch Pine (Pinus rigida), Pond Pine (Pinus serotina), and Loblolly Pine (Pinus taeda) all have either two or three needles per fascicle (usually three).  If you're in New England however, you're unlikely to see the latter two species as they don't really start appearing in the wild until you get to New Jersey and points south.

A young Pitch Pine (Pinus rigida) at my parents' house in West Tisbury, MA

Pinus rigida as a bonsai, seen
at the Philadelphia Flower Show

Pitch Pine (Pinus rigida) was one of the first trees I learned how to identify. When at summer camp one year (I cant remember if it or Sassafras came first), I remember the counselor talking about the three needles per bundle (I doubt the term "fascicle" was used), saying we could remember that since in baseball they throw pitches, and three strikes is an out. The only other pines I remember seeing on the Vineyard were Red Pine (Pinus resinosa) which only has two needles per fascicle, and Eastern White Pine (Pinus strobus), which as we already know has five, though maybe there were a few other two-needle pines as well. I'll have to ask about it next time I'm down there (well, actually "up" there now that I've moved to Delaware).

Pitch Pine is quite ubiquitous on the vineyard, especially around my parents house right now as most of the oaks have died following repeated attacks by the Forest Tent Caterpillar. opw the Pitch Pines have the sun they need and are rapidly taking over the property. I'm all for it personally but haven't been able to convince my dad to let them live: they're one of his most hated trees, and probably justifiably so as I seem to recall him needing to cut a rather mature specimen down right next to the house which had its own established Yellow Jacket population associated with it. Still, though the species is probably not the most ornamental of pines, it does do quite well in poor soils so it at leasts has its place in the wild.

Loblolly Pine (Pinus taeda)

Loblolly Pine (Pinus taeda) resembles Pitch Pine to a certain extent, though it does have a tendency to get a bit taller (upwards of 90' where Pitch Pine usually, but not always, maxes out around 60'), and as noted about Loblolly Pine isn't generally found in the wild up north. Most notably however, the needles of Loblolly Pine are a bit longer: between 6-10" as opposed to Pitch Pine's 3-5".

What Loblolly Pine really resembles, in both range and needle length is Pond Pine (Pinus serotina). There are two easy ways to tell them apart however. First, the cones of Loblolly Pine are quite a bit longer and more extended. Since cones are not always present however, you can also look at the terminal bud on the stem. In Pond Pine, the bud will be white and covered in resin, whereas in Loblolly Pine, it is not and is red in color.

The word "Loblolly", according to dictionary.com anyway, apparently refers to a mud pit with the consistency of porridge. Who knew?

Shorter and rounder cones of Pond Pine (Pinus serotina)

Longer cones of Loblolly Pine (Pinus taeda)

White, resin covered bud of Pond Pine (Pinus serotina)

Redder terminal bud of Loblolly Pine (Pinus taeda), you want to look at the structure on
the end of the stem: try not to be distracted by the developing male cones underneath.

Pond Pine (Pinus serotina)

Not much more to say about Pond Pine (Pinus serotina). It's a close relative of Pitch Pine with a more southern range. It also tends to inhabit a wetter habitat, as it's common name would suggest, generally found in areas with wet, poorly drained soils. Such as in the proximity of pines.

Out of the five pines discussed here, only one of them, Eastern White Pine, is really popular as a landscape plant. Though Pitch, Pond, and Loblolly Pine probably aren't the most ornamental and interesting of trees, I find it surprising that Longleaf Pine isn't more popular due to the needle length. I suspect that the same production issues which bar it from use in timber production may be to blame, with nurserymen perhaps unwilling to dedicate greenhouse space to a plant which won't be of a decent size until almost seven years. Still, I think it's a neat pine I'll be keeping an eye out for in the future.


Not really sure what to talk about next... waiting on some of the Maple and Oak ID posts until I can get some leaf photos. I want to talk a little bit about algae but need to read up on that first, but I do have a few photos of trees with interesting bark it might be fun to discuss as well...