Showing posts with label Known Unknowns 1-5. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Known Unknowns 1-5. Show all posts

Sunday, March 10, 2013

South Carolina 11: Drainage and Irrigation


When South Carolina congressmen became more vociferous about the supposedly false theories of modern science, I began to wonder how Charleston had ever produced the important innovations in botany that underlay its lifestyle: the selection of new types of rice and roses. Periodically, I’ll be publishing the result of my inquiries into the lives of two innovative growers, Hezekiah Maham (rice) and John Champneys (roses). Previous entries can be found under "South Carolina" in the index at the right.

Managing water is critical to the Española valley and to rice growing. It’s surprising how difficult it was to learn anything about the history of irrigation, beyond general comments about the Moors. The photographs are of another mystery plant. I call this one the native dandelion.


Weather: Afternoon temperatures in the sixties mid-weed with lower humidity levels. Lower temperatures when the clouds moved in that left little rain Friday night; last rain 23/09/13; 11:41 hours of daylight today.

What’s green: Rose stems; juniper, pine, and other evergreens; yucca, grape hyacinth, garlic, gypsum phacelia, alfilerillo leaves.

What’s red: Cholla; apple, apricot, sandbar willow branches; Madonna lily leaves.

What’s grey or blue: Western stickseed, winterfat, leaves.

What’s yellow: Globe and weeping willow branches.

What’s blooming inside: Zonal geraniums, petunia.

Animal sightings: Tuesday a robin and some chickadees were in the peach tree. Later in the day, a goldfinch was in the sour cherry.


Weekly update: Agricultural economies are forever driven to increase production when trade and improved birth rates lead to larger populations. Farmers continually are confronted with managing water, and men (and women) discover and rediscover techniques for adding or removing it.

The methods developed by the Romans were lost, but, by 1000, when textile centers and the great trade fairs began developing in Bruges and Ghent, demand for wool brought the sheep raising parts of England and Scotland into their economic sphere. Severe storms beginning in 1216 destroyed coastal communities, forcing counts in Flanders and Holland to begin protecting their existing land, then reclaiming more.

Wind driven mills appeared in the early 1200's, which D. G. Kirby and Merja-Liisa Hinkkanen-Lievonen think may have been introduced by men returning from the Crusades against the Arabs in the near east. However, they say they didn’t become important drainage pumps until larger populations and increased storm problems led to technological innovations in 1570.

Skilled Dutchmen were lured by their neighbors to Prussia, Sweden, and Denmark, then Rochefort and LaRochelle in France. Charles I encouraged Francis, the Duke of Bedford, to drain the fens of southeast England in 1630's, a project continued by Cromwell and Francis’ son William under the direction of Cornelius Vermuyden with Dutch laborers. More projects were undertaken after William of Orange was crowned in 1680.


When Flanders was the center of the textile industry, Dinis of Portugal, who ruled between 1279 and 1325, encouraged trade with the area to create an alternative to the markets of Castile and the Moors. To secure his borders, he introduced new patterns of land ownership and encouraged men to drain the marshes and swamps, where rice eventually was grown. He also cemented a naval alliance with Genoa, who was revolutionizing trade in Bruges.

In northern Italy, landowners of the Po valley began building canals in 1127 that fostered drainage and irrigation schemes. In 1475, the Duke of Milan, Galeazzo Maria Sforza, sent the first recorded rice from the area to Ercole d’Este, the Duke of Ferrara.

According to Fernand Braudel, the crop was encouraged in Lombardy in the 1500's. They were exporting their surplus to Genoa by 1570.

In 1517, the Ottomans of Turkey had conquered Egypt and demanded rice be sent to Constantinople as part of its annual tribute. The food was adopted by the elite, and used by the military on campaigns. In 1600, Venice was eating rice, which they probably bought from the Turks, along with the more traditional wheat, millet and rye.


It takes little for farmers to extrapolate solutions from fragments of information. Portugal introduced reclamation after contact with Flanders. Italy introduced rice after contacts with the Levant. In Africa and Madagascar, new varieties of rice were tried, new processing technologies adopted, and new methods for dealing with water created.

When allusions and imagination weren’t enough, men took steps to import knowledge. The Abbasids went from absorbing what the Persians knew to actively saving everything they could from the ancient world. Portugal exploited its contact with Genoa to explore Africa and the world. Everyone hired Dutch engineers and laborers.

Population growth, both natural and from new market towns, created necessity. Trade simplified finding solutions because it revitalized cultures grown comfortable in isolation. Rice and the techniques to grow it expanded when dynamic responses to life replaced static ones.

Notes:
Adshead, Samuel Adrian Miles. Material Culture in Europe and China, 1400-1800: The Rise of Consumerism, 1997.

Braudel, Fernand. La Méditerrane et le Monde Méditerranéan à l’Euopque de Philippe II, 1966 edition, translated as The Mediterranean and the Mediterranean World in the Age of Philip II by Sian Reynolds, 1972.

Dutra, Francis A. "Dinis, King of Portugal" in E. Michael Gerli and Samuel G. Armistead, Medieval Iberia: An Encyclopedia, 2003.

Kirby, D. G. and Merja-Liisa Hinkkanen-Lievonen. The Baltic and the North Seas, 2000. The major innovation was the movable cap that allowed the mill’s sails to follow changes in the direction of the wind.

Pregill, Philip and Nancy Volkma. Landscapes in History: Design and Planning in the Eastern and Western Traditions, 1999.


Photographs: The plant I call a native dandelion may be Pyrrhopappus pauciflorus.

1. Flower and bud, 13 May 2007. The composite is described as "highly variable." All the photographs show some red, but the ones in my yard are pure yellow.

2. Real dandelion, 14 April 2007, in case you forgot what one looks like. The flower color of the native dandelion is lighter than that of Taraxacum officinale and the rays don’t form the same type of crown. The buds are more rounded in the middle, more pointed at the tip, and often covered with dirt. The most obvious difference between the two plants is the leaves.

3. Young plant, 24 April 2011. The leaves are an urn of long, narrow blades that disappear into their surroundings.

4. Leaves on plant growing in wetter conditions, 15 April 2007. The books all described the Pyrrhopappus leaves as lobed, but these are the only ones I’ve ever seen develop that far.

5. Flowering plant, 24 April 2011. The plant puts out a number of stems that curve up from the crown, which looks more like a tuft of grass than a dandelion. It continues to produce new buds for weeks in the spring.

6. Seed head, 7 June 2008. There’s no question it’s a composite, even if its identify is debatable.

7. Spent heads and side-view of flower, 22 June 2008, growing with Maximilian sunflowers.


8. Another view of a flowering plant, 3 May 2008.

Sunday, March 03, 2013

South Carolina 10: Trade


When South Carolina congressmen became more vociferous about the supposedly false theories of modern science, I began to wonder how Charleston had ever produced the important innovations in botany that underlay its lifestyle: the selection of new types of rice and roses. Periodically, I’ll be publishing the result of my inquiries into the lives of two innovative growers, Hezekiah Maham (rice) and John Champneys (roses). Previous entries can be found under "South Carolina" in the index at the right.

This entry looks at the spread of rice through trade to Madagascar where legend places Maham’s rice. Some of the history is preparing for more future discussions of Africa and Spain. The photographs are of another mystery plant.


Weather: Warmer afternoons; last snow 2/22/13; 11:30 hours of daylight today.

What’s green: Few rose stems; juniper, pine, and other evergreens; yucca, grape hyacinth, garlic, gypsum phacelia leaves; alfilerillo leaves greening.

What’s red: Cholla; apple, apricot, sandbar willow branches; Madonna lily leaves.

What’s grey or blue: Winterfat leaves; western stickseed leaves reviving.

What’s yellow: Globe and weeping willow branches.

What’s blooming inside: Zonal geraniums, aptenia, petunia.

Animal sightings: Small brown birds.


Weekly update: Trade, historically, has fostered economic growth and then expanded to feed the needs it generated.

Africa apparently was a world of small communities who traded among themselves before Arab conquerors fanned out after the Sunni Umayyads deposed the established Moslem powers in 661. The Damascus caliphate spread to Egypt in 670 and across northern Africa to Spain in 711, then down to Mauritania in 734.

The Umayyads were deposed by the Shia Abbasids in 750, who moved the Moslem capital to Baghdad, and eventually established a trade network that spread from the Umayyad retreat in Spain across northern Africa and the middle east through northern India to the Tarim basin of western China.

Bernard Lewis has found the earliest reference to rice comes from the conquest of the Basra area on the Persian frontier by Moslem tribesmen in the 600's. They tested the unknown grain as food after a horse that had eaten some didn’t die.

It probably became more common as a luxury among the elite after the Abbasids developed Basra as an intellectual center. At some time it was introduced to Egypt, then Spain. The Ishmali Fatimids, who deposed the Abbasids in Egypt in 909, spread north to Sicily, taking rice with them.


Arab traders began moving down the east African coast to Manda island off Kenya in the 800's. Soon after items carved from chlorite schist quarried on the northwest coast of Madagascar appeared in east Africa. The success of a Yemeni clan at Mogadishu in the middle 1100's, brought traders from Shiraz to Kilwa, an island off Tanzania in the late 1100's.

In the early 1300's, the Mahdali, an Ishmali clan from southern Aden, took over Kilwa and then the east African gold trade. Arab traders weren’t as interested in developing new markets as they were in redirecting the existing trade in gold. Urban centers emerged as a consequence, abetted by the availability of surplus food to support urban populations and supply travelers.

Madagascar was drawn into the web of trade. Iharana, where Chinese export China was found in graves from the late 1300's, developed in the northeast as another source for three-legged bowls made from metamorphic rock. The growing port of Aden, with its community of Indian merchants from Gujarat, imported rice from Kilwa, which Richard Gray believes could only have come from Madagascar.


Mande speakers near the headwaters of the western branch of the Niger in west Africa grew glaberrima rice, which Judith Carney believes made possible the earliest sub-Saharan kingdom of Ghana.

Desert caravans, guided by the Sanhaja, linked the peoples of the Mediterranean with the savannah of the Mande, each of whom seems to have remained isolated from one another. The revitalizing Sunni Almoravids from Mauritania attacked Ghana’s main city, Awdaghost, in 1055, before they took Córdova in 1102, setting off the reconquest.

In sub-Saharan Africa, the southern Mande, the Malinke, moved along the Niger to establish the towns of Mali along the bend of the river. Timbukto became a center of learning for the Songhai empire to the northeast in the 1300's.

The exposure to Islam and the requisite trips to Mecca through Egypt, at least among the elite, provided the opportunity for people from the Sahel and savannah to travel to areas with different irrigation systems and different varieties of rice.


Notes:
Carney, Judith. Black Rice: The African Origins of Rice Cultivation in the Americas, 2001.

Garlake, Peter. The Kingdoms of Africa, 1978.

Gray, Richard. "Southern Africa and Madagascar" in The Cambridge History of Africa: From c.1600 to c.1790, volume 4, 1975, edited by Richard Gray.

Lewis, Bernard. The Middle East: A Brief History of the Last 2,000 Years, 1995.


Photographs: I’ve been trying to identify this flower for years, with no luck. It has been difficult to take photographs that reveal detail, because the stems holding the flowers move in the slightest breeze. It grows along the roadside, often as a single plant.

1. Unidentified flower opens early, and closed by mid-morning. This picture taken on a cloudy day at 10:40am, 18 August 2013.

2. I call it madcap, because all I usually see are the flower’s remains. This picture taken at 9:15am, 23 August 2009.

3. It may be a biennial or a perennial that exploits winter moisture. Young leaves, 4 September 2011.

4. Young plant, 1 December 2011.

5. The stems have swollen joints, 11 September 2011.

6. The stems often turn reddish in summer. Blooming plant in the process of dropping its petals, taken at 6:30am, 5 July 2008.

7. Stems get to be three to four feet high in the summer. Characteristic growth, perhaps the same plant as #6, 5 July 2008.


8. Plant in full bloom, same time and day as #1, 14 August 2011.

Sunday, January 27, 2013

South Carolina 7: Rice’s Tale Variants


When South Carolina congressmen became more vociferous about the supposedly false theories of modern science, I began to wonder how Charleston had ever produced the important innovations in botany that underlay its lifestyle: the selection of new types of rice and roses. Periodically, I’ll be publishing the result of my inquiries into the lives of two innovative growers, Hezekiah Maham (rice) and John Champneys (roses). Previous entries can be found under “South Carolina” in the index at the right.

Maham is not given credit for his discovery. This posting looks at the interpretations of the origin tale as evidence of South Carolina’s evolving attitudes towards its botanical innovators. It includes an interpretation of Maham’s own comments.


Weather: Warm temperatures during the week soaked up the snow protected by shadows; yesterday’s misting rain washed more away; last rain 1/26/13; 10:18 hours of daylight today.

What’s still green: Few rose stems; juniper, pine, and other evergreens; yucca. Moss is emerging in shadows where snow stayed long enough to melt into the ground.

What’s red: Cholla; apple, apricot, sandbar willow branches. Some pink leaves are a deeper maroon. Western stickseed leaves turned purple-gray.

What’s grey or blue: Snow-in-summer, winterfat, golden hairy aster leaves.

What’s yellow: Globe and weeping willow branches.

What’s blooming inside: Zonal geraniums, aptenia, petunias.

Animal sightings: Small brown birds.


Weekly update: Alexander Salley, who became state archivist for South Carolina, reprinted eight versions of Fayrer Hall’s origin tale. Each has been retold by others. Still others have tried to combine them into a single tale, emphasizing different elements. The history of the history has moved from some attempts to explain a confusing situation, the varieties of rice found in South Carolina, to syntheses that compounded the confusion.

The first person Salley mentioned was James Glen, governor between 1743 and 1756, who reprinted Hall’s version in 1761. He emphasized chance and the irrelevance of the proprietors when he added (motif 3, see notes) “it was not done with any previous Prospect of Gain, but owing to a lucky accident, and a private experiment.” The (4) gift motif was expanded when he added it was done “for the benefit of Mankind.”

In 1766, when conflicts between the crown and the colony were escalating after the Sugar Act of 1764, Gentleman’s Magazine of London published an account by Peter Collinson, a friend of Charles Dubois, which contained many of the same motifs as Hall.


The (1) individual responsible for introducing the rice was the treasurer of the East India company, and the recipient was (5) Thomas Marsh, a Carolina merchant, after they (3) happened to meet in a coffee house. Dubois (4) gave Marsh (6) a “money bag” of (2) East India rice.

Since the quantity was so small, (9) more rice was brought by a Portuguese slave trader who (4) gave, but actually bartered, some of the ship’s provisions for fresh produce. The (3) unexpected rice (8) made men more sure rice could be a viable commodity.

However, (9) the planters still didn’t have enough, and, in 1713, the colony paid bounties to captains who brought rice. One shipment came (2) “from the Streights, probably Egypt” or Milan. Another bounty was paid for rice that came with a slave ship from (2) Madagascar.

Salley found no record of the bounties, and believed the London writer was thinking of the gratuity paid to John Thurber. What Salley didn’t mention was that the Portuguese and Madagascar ships were probably smugglers who provided cheap goods to Charles Town the way the pirates had. He did mention rice itself was smuggled to Portugal in 1708, and sold for fish that then was sent to London.

Collinson and Du Bois were both avid gardeners, active in exploring the natural resources of the colonies. Collinson imported plants collected by John Bertram, while Du Bois helped sponsor Mark Catesby trip to Charles Town in 1722. He also grew plants sent to him by his family from India.


In 1772, as rebellion against royal authority was brewing in France, a contributor to Guillaume Thomas Raynal’s history of European trade with the two Indies emphasized that the introduction was (3) “purely fortuitous,” the result of a ship returning from the (2) East Indies that (3) “happened to be cast away” and (6) “some bags” were (4) “taken from the ship.” Even so, “a trial was made of sowing them, which (8) succeeded beyond expectations”

During the war, in 1779, a Tory minister living in exile in London, Alexander Hewatt replaced the adventurer, Henry Woodward, with an idealized royal governor, Thomas Smith, who arrived in the colony in his mid-30's in 1684. When his wife died, he married Sabina de Vignon, the widow of Seigneur D’Arssens who had connections to William and Mary and the proprietors. When Sabina died in 1689, Smith petitioned the proprietors for rights to Van Arssens’ estates.

At the time the proprietors were having problems asserting their authority over the colony, and in 1693 transferred Van Arssen’s land to Smith and appointed him governor. Before he died in 1694, he tried to suppress the pirates who competed with the East India Company. I found nothing on-line about his life between the time he was born in Devon in 1648 and he appeared in the colony.


According to Hewatt, soon after Smith became governor, (3) a “fortunate accident happened” when (1) a brigantine from (2) Madagascar (3) touched on Sullivan Island outside the Charles Town harbor. Smith met with the captain who (4) “made him a present of a (6) bag of seed rice.” Smith (7) divided the rice between “Stephen Bull, Joseph Woodward, and some other friends.”

Hewatt then mentioned (9) DuBois to explain (11) “the distinction of red and white rice.”

The location of the accident and the identity of the planters have been elaborated. Sullivan’s Island was the location of the fort William Moultrie built that repulsed the first British attack on Charleston in 1776, while Hewatt was close to the last royal governor of the colony, William Bull, and probably heard family stories from descendants of Smith. Stephen Bull was William’s son, and his son, William’s grandson, also Stephen Bull, married Elizabeth Woodward. Salley couldn’t identify Joseph, who was not descended from Henry.


In 1798, after years of battle and intrigue to secure the French revolution, Raynal reissued his history and the current contributor said “opinions differ” on the introduction of rice, and he no longer thought it mattered if it came with a shipwreck, was sent by England, or brought by slaves, because what mattered was South Carolina was ideally suited to grow rice.

In 1802, another governor, John Drayton, published his version, which now gave “good government” a role. He said the first shipment of 1699 was an unprofitable variety, and it was only in 1696 that a larger, whiter variety was introduced The last is a trait associated with the rice of Hezekiah Maham, and Drayton may have been contrasting the rice that existed after the revolution, with that from before.

Drayton’s second introduction came when the (1) captain of a brigantine from (2) Madagascar (4) “presented” a (6) bag to the (5) governor (7) “who divided it between several gentlemen.” He adds, Mr. DuBois (9) “sent another parcel” which explains “the distinction which now prevails, between white and gold rice.”


In 1809, Henry Laurens’ son-in-law, David Ramsey deliberately introduced new elements. He suggested Thomas Smith “had been at Madagascar before he settled in Carolina” and that he was “an old acquaintance” of the captain of a (1) vessel from (2) Madagascar which (3) “being in distress, came to anchor near Sullivan’s Island.” The (1) ship’s cook (4) “presented” Smith with (6) “a small bag of rice.”

This time it’s Smith himself who (8) proved that rice could grow “luxuriantly.” He (7) distributed his “little crop” “among his planter friends” Salley said Ramsey went so far as to alter Edward Crisp’s 1704 map of Charles Town to mark the spot in Smith’s garden where the rice first grew, apparently unaware that the area could not have supported rice because it only had access to salt water.

Ramsey had been an active patriot during the war, jailed in Saint Augustine by the British. His more colorful version may have been influenced by Parson Weems’ attempts to create a dramatic past for the young republic with his books on George Washington and Francis Marion, the Swamp Fox. The later was published in 1805, based on notes by Peter Horry, but had been repudiated by Horry.


Salley’s last reference was to a genealogist, Guy Mannering Fessenden, who discovered John Thurber was buried in Warren, Rhode Island, and noted he had brought the rice (2) from India between 1694 and 1607.

David Shields of the Carolina Gold Rice Foundation has since found another variant provided by John Legare in 1823. He told the South Carolina Agricultural Society (2) “the late Col. Henry Laurens “ (3) “imported” a (6) “small quantity of what is called the Gold-seed Rice, soon after the revolutionary war” which was (8) found to be so far superior to the white-hulled Rice before cultivated.”

Shields noted there was no evidence Laurens grew rice at Mepkin between the time he returned to Carolina after the war in 1784 and he died in 1892. Legare probably thought him as a better godfather than Maham, the way Hewatt thought the titled Thomas Smith was a more appropriate agent for change than the adventuring Henry Woodward.


Many recent writers have read some, or all of the accounts mentioned by Salley, and created their own syntheses, usually within a contemporary framework. For instance, Richard Schulze, who is growing heirloom Carolina Gold rice at his Turnbridge Plantation, has elaborated the accident:

“A Liverpool-bound brigantine sailing from (2) Madagascar was (3) badly damaged by a storm and blown off course; it set into the port of Charles Towne for repairs.”

and the nature of the gift

“Dr. Henry Woodward apparently (4) befriended the captain”

From there, the modern skeptic questions the traditional facts, noting “the ship, which was of American origin, was probably not trading legally as the British law at that time forbade trade outside of the colonies and the British Isles.”

He repeats Ramsay’s idea filtered through Salley that “Woodward proceeded to grow this in his garden in the city” before suggesting it was more likely he planted the seed at “the more suitable property on the Abbapoola Creek.”

He then notes not enough time passed between the summer of 1685 when the ship entered port and Woodward’s trip to the frontier where he died for him to (8) “produce a very good crop, which he then (9) distributed to his friends.” He concludes “he probably never had the opportunity to fully appreciate (10) the new industry that he was so instrumental in spawning.”


As for Joshua John Ward’s belief that Maham’s rice came from Madagascar, it may have. There were some relations with the island where André Michaux, who had left Charleston in 1796, died collecting plants in 1802. However, it’s more likely, Maham was simply saying his rice came from the black market and the origin is deliberately unknown.

Notes:
Motifs found in origin tales that explain the introduction of rice to South Carolina

1. Someone, usually unnamed
2. From Madagascar
3. Through some accident, usually a shipwreck
4. Gave, usually as a sign of gratitude
5. To Woodward, or some other prominent person
6. A peck or some other small amount of rice
7. Which was distributed free to the other planters
8. Who proved rice could grow in the colony
9. A second introduction
10. Is responsible for the spread of the crop
11. And the visible variations in the rice

Salley, A. S. Jr “The Introduction of Rice Culture into South Carolina,” Historical Commission of South Carolina Bulletin 6, 1919.

Schulze, Richard. Carolina Gold Rice: the Ebb and Flow History of a Lowcountry Cash Crop, 2005.

Shields, David S. “Who first planted Carolina Gold?,” The Rice Paper April 2008.


Photographs: More grasses, known, unknown, and guessed.
1. I think it’s blue grama grass, because it looks like a grama, doesn’t look like the grama growing wild in the yard, and that’s the name of the seed I planted in the area where it’s growing.

2. I think it’s buffalo grass, because I mixed buffalo grass with blue grama along the one walk, and it doesn’t look like anything in the yard. It never blooms, and reproduced by sending out runners.

3. But what is this? Is it the same as the “buffalo grass” at a different stage? Or, is it Bermuda grass? Or, is it something else. It also doesn’t seem to bloom, although there is sometimes a coxcomb growth associated with it.

4. They say Bermuda grass is hard to tell from crab grass, but I think this is crab grass. The seed stalk is attached to a clump of bunch grass.

5. When I wander on the prairie, I see grasses that resemble ones in my yard whose identity is only half guessed. What do you call a guess based on an associate with a guess? This grows like the grama grasses, with narrow, similarly shaped seed heads. Only, up close, they look more ragged.

6. This grows like a ring-muhly, only the dead grasses are at least six inches high. The new growth branches out from the side, and looks reddish.

7. Another of the monsoon grasses that emerges along the edge of the drive.

8. Another of the grasses that I think just appeared after the fire. It also seems to be a monsoon grass.

9. Another monsoon grass that looks so familiar, and yet I can’t identify it.

10. An annual monsoon grass that I call “barnyard grass.” The stalks are fuzzy, the seed heads shaped like sparklers.

11. And then, there are the grasses I know too well. Cheat grass is an annual that appears in the spring, then dies into mulch.

12. A brome grass plant showed up last summer. I don’t know if it’s going a be a pest or not. It’s in the same genus as cheat grass.


13. The biggest nuisance of all. An annual spring grass I call “three awn.” One friend of mine calls it squirrel tail. Another just says, ‘Oh That!” The segments fall apart when I touch them, and each causes an itching reaction if I pick them up to keep them from reseeding.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Grasses in Winter


Weather: Last snow 1/15/13; 10:04 hours of daylight today.

Early Tuesday morning, the moisture that had been sucked from the Jémez, fell as a thin layer of snow. By afternoon, it had returned to the atmosphere, along with more of my existing snow cover.

What’s still green: Few rose stems; juniper, pine, and other evergreens; yucca.

Black locust stems that held the leaf clusters are dropping on the snow. Few are left on the tree.

What’s red: Cholla; apple, apricot, sandbar willow branches.

What’s grey or blue: Snow-in-summer, winterfat, golden hairy aster leaves.

What’s yellow: Globe and weeping willow branches.

What’s blooming inside: Zonal geraniums, aptenia, petunias.

Animal sightings: Small brown birds.


Weekly update: Rice is a wetland grass whose natural variations have been exploited by humans to produce the many types found in grocery stores today. The short grain is preferred in China for its cohesiveness. The long grain is chosen by those like me who detest gummy rice.

Our dryland grasses are as varied in their environmental preferences. And like rice, some repay the attentions paid by humans, some attack those who care for them, and others prefer the wild.

The most common here is needle grass, which tolerates the variable rain that seeps into the prairie. Some years the stems are several feet tall in late spring. In other years, the stalks remain short. The seed heads are designed to disburse. By this time, the bunches of straight, thin blades are indistinct from rice grass. The Stipta comata culms have either broken away, or hold only the remains of the sockets that once aimed the harpoon-pointed seeds at passing creatures.


Rice grass only grows in the barest soils with no competition. Oryzopsis hymenoides thrives down the road, where the owner brutally clears everything that grows several times a summer. It despises my yard, where I leave it be. Each year, it abandons the previous year’s growth along the edge of the drive. New bunches rise from the roots in late spring, that produce the always recognizable seed heads. Then, in late summer, I have to remove the dead plants as a fire hazard.


Black grama grass (at top) has established a few colonies in my yard, but haven’t created satellites. Over time they simply have expanded into irregular circles, much like the neighboring ring muhly. Both plants come with the monsoons. Bouteloua eriopoda may have been valued by the first settlers for cattle feed, but the second is more valuable after they denuded the land. Muhlenbergia torreyi's hollow circles capture monsoon water. The low tufts hold snow that create oases where other seeds can sprout. This time of year, the crosshatchings of fine, waving branches still create purple hazes.


In spring, the invaders brought by humans gravitate to the wetter areas: the cheat grass, the three awn, the June grass. The first are annuals that die away, leaving a layer of winter mulch. Koeleria cristata is a perennial that naively sprouts wherever conditions are promising in spring, then dies in early summer, leaving large, dark gray humps that don’t go away. The stiff stalks grow several feet. When the seed heads are opening, they resemble corn. This time of year, the remains of the flowers are herringboned along the tops of the culms.


My knowledge of the grasses ends when the monsoon begins. Many appear, but none look exactly like the pictures in the Range Plant Handbook. Either they are aliens brought by humans, or so variable they are unidentifiable.

When I moved here, I borrowed a copy of a guidebook to grasslands that said, in the preface, that it was covering grasses everywhere in the country, except in the southwest. The reason? There were too many. So, every year, I watch them, hoping to accumulate enough knowledge to finally identify them.

Since it started to snow in December, I’ve been out taking pictures of seed heads. The light and white backdrop reveal details that are hard to see, and harder to remember. But so far, I’m no closer with identifying any of them. If anyone knows any, I would love to hear.

In the meantime, I give some provisional labels that create a sense of familiarity. One I call black flag must be an alien. It appears after the monsoons along the shoulders of the roads. This year, a few came up for the first time in my yard, next to the newly laid gravel. The seed heads look like feather dusters or shuttlecocks. They’re black when they hold seeds. This time of year, the remains tend to be the color of bleached sand.


Another I call red silk. The clumps resembles needle grass, only the blades are shorter and much finer and take on a reddish hue. In my yard, they show up near the drive or in a path, somewhere there’s water and no company. My neighbor has gathered some, and transplanted them along the drive. Her’s look like they may have bloomed. Buried in the leaves are whirlwinds of fine threads that catch the late afternoon light.


Other grasses haven’t risen to patronymics yet. They simply exist.

One appeared as seedlings last summer, and created a colony down hill from the house after this year’s monsoons. The blades are curly. The culm is stiff. Like the one pictured above, the seed head has the same compact shape as June grass, but disintegrates. I rather suspect it may have been used somewhere last summer when they were reseeding land after the fire. That means, this may be a grass that grows about 7000 feet.

Another monsoon grass grows in a gully down the road, where vehicles have to slow. The leaves are the largest. The stalks rise nearly three feet. The flowers appear late, and alternate along the stiff stalks, then dry in fall. This time of year the survivors are gray. Someone has cut most of them to about a foot from the ground, but left the pigweed. Or, the pigweed took advantage of the added space and grew after the helpful human left.


The last grass of summer grows in gravelly patches in the arroyo bottom. The leaves and stalks are darker red. The culms tend to curve where the seeds were held. I don’t know if the seeds were heavy, or if that’s a useful dispersal mechanism. This time of year, all that’s left are puffs of lint.


Photographs:
1. Black grama grass in a clump that’s been there at least ten years. 1 January 2013.

2. Unknown grass, growing downhill from the house. 17 January 2013.

3. Needle grass growing south of the house. The snow melts around the clumps, but remains in pillows between to provide insulation. 17 January 2013.

4. Rice grass growing along my drive. 5 January 2013.

5. Ring muhly grass growing in the barren land uphill from the house. 15 January 2013.

6. June grass growing in the western shadow of the house. It and the small winterfat shrubs have melted islands around themselves. 15 January 2013.

7. Unknown grass with dark seed head. The finer seeds may either be ring muhly or the grass shown at the bottom. The blades belong to something else. 14 December 2012.

8. Unknown silky grass growing along my neighbor’s drive. 17 January 2013.

9. Unknown tall grass, growing down the road. Pigweed abounds. 17 January 2013.

10. Unknown tall grass, growing in the far arroyo. 17 January 2013.


11. Unknown monsoon grass that grows along the edge of the drive and shoulders of the road. 1 January 2013.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Known Unknowns


Weather: Real rain yesterday, with a bit of hail; 14:03 hours of daylight today.

What’s blooming in the area: Wild pink, Persian yellow, Dr. Huey and other hybrid roses, pyracantha, snowball, purple flowered locust, silver lace vine, bearded iris, yuccas, red hot poker, peony, datura, donkey tail spurge, blue perennial salvia; buds on oriental poppy, sweet pea.

Beyond the walls and fences: Apache plume, tamarix, yuccas, fernleaf globemallow, western stickseed, bractless and tawny cryptanthas, alfilerillo, hoary cress, tumble and purple mustards, purple mat flower, gypsum phacelia, tufted white evening primrose, scarlet bee blossom, blue gilia, bindweed, oxalis, wild licorice, scurf and bush peas, golden smoke, pale trumpets, Indian paintbrush near a chamisa, woolly plantain, flea bane, plain’s paper flower, goat’s beard, cream tips, common and native dandelion; needle, rice, June and cheat grasses; buds on three awn grass; berries formed on juniper.

In my yard: Black locust, rugosa roses, spirea, beauty bush, skunk bush, baby blue iris, Bath pinks, snow-in-summer, small leaved soapwort, Jupiter’s beard, coral bells, golden spur columbine, vinca, yellow alyssum, blue flax, pink evening primrose, chocolate flower; buds on floribunda roses, privet, sea pink, blanket flowers, coreopsis, Moonshine yarrow; sour cherries formed; berries on sand cherries; pods forming on Siberian peas; zinnia and reseeded morning glory seeds coming up.

Bedding plants: Pansies, sweet alyssum, petunia, nicotiana, moss rose, impatiens.

What’s blooming inside: Zonal geraniums, aptenia.

Animal sightings: Chickadees, goldfinches, pair of hummingbirds around beauty bush, skinny pale red snake, geckos, cabbage butterfly, hornets, harvester and small black ants.

Weekly update: Donald Rumsfeld was ridiculed when he divided reality into known unknowns and unknown unknowns. Overlooking his context, it seems a perfectly reasonable way to deal with the fact many plants exist outside popular wildflower guides.

The known unknowns are the ones that appear every year in roughly the same place at roughly the same time with enough consistency that you recognize them, much like the man who sold newspapers at a street booth in Philadelphia in the 1960's. I saw him every day, but he discouraged any conversation, made himself anonymous.

The unknown unknowns are the ones you see once or twice, but not often enough to see any pattern, much like customers at the wooden shack you think you’ve seen before but aren’t quite sure if they even live in the neighborhood.

The one can be given a label, the others remain lists of characteristics.


Pink bud is a known unknown. It bloomed profusely in 2010 and hardly at all last year, though there were many buds. This year it's blooming again near the chamisas where it grows on a platform raised a few inches from the water path in the far arroyo. I don’t know if it was the drought of 2010 that determined the blooming pattern in 2011, or the late snow.

It seems to only boom once in spring, with the behavior of an annual. The heads emerge from the leaves as the stems push their way through the earth.


They begin as tight knobs of round pink balls that break into groups of five, with one in the center. These each break into two. The pink turns ivory before the five petaled flowers open. The resemble the tops of milkweed flowers, but not the undersides. Within each cluster, the center floret opens first, then the others in succesion.


Within a few weeks they produce what can only be called berries that begin green, then turn purple.


The leaves that grew lush during the summer, begin to brown in August.


The stems thicken and become wooden. The empty flower stalks turn black, their fruiting ends harden.


The roots are straight, stiff single white shafts with asparagus like scales.

After the leaves die, everything blows away, leaving no surface evidence of their existence.


Rosemary is a very different known unknown. While pink bud flourishes in late spring, this perennial likes colder, damper days.

It took me a while to distinguish it from blue gilia, which has similar clusters of basal needle shaped leaves and grows in the same area. However, the leaves of this form a ring, rather like ring muhly grass, that produces new growth on the edges of the old in late fall. This turns chartreuse, even rust, in winter, then begins to brighten in March. When you look carefully, they look a bit like shrubby branches.


The flowers are impossible to see, unless you bend to them - the tiny champaign white flowers blend into the sand around them. You’re only alerted to their existence when you see the stems rising above like grass pinks. The fact I rarely see them fully open may mean they aren’t morning flowers.


While it’s blooming at the moment, last year I didn’t see the flowers until October. And, while I’ve seen it in other places, the place it’s growing on the prairie is on the north facing side of a hilly rise that’s often covered with active biological crust that supports moss.


Photographs:
1. Pink bud under grass and a chamisa near the far arroyo floor, 27 April 2012.

2. Pink bud flower, 22 May 2011.

3. Pink bud emerging, 11 April 2010.

4. Pink bud groups of five with central floret opening first; just emerging cluster at the back; 22 May 2011.

5. Pink bud green berries beginning to turn purple; leaves have grown lush; 30 May 2010.

6. Pink bud leaves turning brown under a chamisa, 14 August 2011.

7. Pink bud remains, 25 September 2011.


8. Rosemary flower, 30 May 2011.

9. Mature rosemary plant with this year’s growth coexisting with the ruins of the past, 4 March 2012.

10. Greened up rosemary plant with barely visible flower buds, 27 March 2011.

11. Rosemary in winter, with an activate biological crust and moss on an north facing rise edging the far arroyo, 29 December 2010.

12. Bright green rosemary in bloom in fall, 9 October 2011.