(Above) How weird is that?! The filaments curl back onto the petals and the anthers shed pollen at the same time that the stigma is receptive in some species of tuberous perennial Claytonia!
(Above) In others, the filaments begin to curl back when the anthers start shedding pollen, with the stigma become receptive shortly thereafter. Excellent!
(Below) In this species, the filaments curl back and the stigma becomes receptive after most of the pollen has seemingly been released. Gnarlatron!
(Below) And still in others it seems like the filaments don’t reflex much toward the petals at all. Whoa!
But what does it all mean?! That is a good question… I’ll have to get back to you on that one.
I have been thinking a lot lately about pollination biology in the tuberous perennial species of Claytonia, which often have flowers the size of a penny or even larger. What are they pollinated by? It is said that these flowers are often not open for very long, maybe two or three days sometimes, but that they can be visited by a variety of pollinators while open…
Thanks to Scott Eliason (credit above picture), Botanist on the San Bernardino National Forest, we are beginning to gather some clues about who is pollinating Claytonia in the San Bernardino Mountains. The insect visiting the Claytonia flower above is a Bristle Fly (Tachinidae). Note also that there is a brown Leafhopper (Cicadellidae) perched nearby.
Pictured above is my first pollinator observation for the tuberous perennial Claytonia in the southern Sierra Nevada, a couple of soft-winged flower beetles (Melyridae). One of my collaborators, Dr. Emile Fiesler, President of Bioveyda-Innoveyda and member of the North American Dipterists Society, suggests these beetles are among the most productive of pollinators! I hope Emile and I can make more pollinator observations next year for some of the other new species of Claytonia I will be describing soon!!!
You’re really going to ask me which Claytonia I think is the cutest?! I find the entire genus to be cute… It’s a really tough choice!
This one from the Southern Sierra is a real crowd pleaser, being found growing in talus of volcanic rocks (Tuff). It appears to be in the C. parviflora complex (C. perfoliata sensu lato), putatively a local endemic based upon evidence from morphology and patterns in tuberous perennial Claytonia in the area. Although not my all-time favorite Claytonia, this cute little annual always makes for an entertaining photo shoot.
This member of the C. virginica complex is also quite stunning, being found on nearly every flood plain of the major rivers draining toward the U.S. Eastern seaboard (this one photographed in North Carolina). The reason it isn’t my favorite? Well, poison ivy (Toxicodendron radicans) also grows on nearly every flood plain draining toward the Eastern seaboard. What is the significance of this distribution you ask? Well, when I go collecting Claytonia and nearly everything else is un-identifiable due to the extremely early flowering season of Claytonia, I end up getting exposed to Toxicodendron a LOT! I now have a systemic reaction whenever I get exposed to Toxicodendron or any other member of the Anacardiaceae… so also when I eat mangos or cashews. I (used to) love mangos!!! Dang…
OK, now we are talking cute here… This thing took my breath away the first time I saw it in the North Coast Ranges of northern California, where it can be found on Franciscan Graywacke (a type of sedimentary rock). Formerly treated as C. obovata Rydb., this taxon is currently treated as C. lanceolata despite its morphological dissimilarity with the latter taxon. And You’re saying this isn’t the cutest?! Why not? Well, I think this little guy was ruined for me when some hooligans decided to start shooting various guns in the air very close to where I was. It was a bit scary, and I think it spoiled the good time I was having at the time ripping these beauties out of the ground (for the sake of science, of course).
Now this one absolutely has to be the cutest, right? Wrong! It is cute, oh yes, but not the cutest. This beauty is just another narrow endemic that is not currently recognized (but hopefully will be soon!)… Levels of cuteness approach the maximum score, but this little beauty (only a few centimeters tall) just isn’t the cream of the crop. It grows in a crummy habitat (steep, loose talus of volcanic rocks), for one, and it also lives behind a locked gate in an area that is proposed for wind energy development. Until I find populations of this unique taxon outside of the Jawbone Canyon in the southern Sierra Nevada, it sits in the same category as the C. virginica complex because it comes with too much baggage… NEXT!
Oh yeah! If you’re cute and you know it, be super small… This is the first member of the C. lanceolata complex I ever found (in the San Bernardino Mountains of southern California on white dolomite). You might say it is the reason I got into this mess in the first place, and thus it holds a special place in my heart. It is amongst the smallest members of what I am calling the C. “peirsonii” complex, a southern California species complex nested within the C. lanceolata complex (which truly is summarized as the ENTIRE clade of tuberous perennial Claytonia, e.g. Claytonia sect. Claytonia). It is very VERY cute, but still not the absolute cutest. Tough competition, right?! This is very close to my all-time favorite Claytonia, but there is one species that takes the cake…
Wow! What a show-stopper! Claytonia saxosa is indeed the cutest Claytonia I have seen to date, but there may just be some species out there that are even cuter than this one, including yellow and pink-flowered tuberous perennial Claytonia that I hope to see in 2014. Until then, this is the cream of the crop, king of the hill, or whatever you want to call it. It is just dang CUTE! Also growing on Franciscan Graywacke in northern California (in close sympatry with C. obovata), this annual species is said to occur on serpentine rocks as well. I’m interested to see if the serpentine plants are really the same taxon, given what patterns have been observed in the tuberous perennials, but until I can get the material I must consider it the same species across its range. I guess I’ll just have to get out there and see it elsewhere… I recommend you get out there and see it too! Anthony Peak (Mendocino National Forest) in the North Coast Ranges of California has a healthy population that is ripe and ready for photographs in the month of May.
In order to get to the bottom of this, I encourage you to cast your vote! Cast your vote for more than one, whatever, but you can only vote once! I want to know if you agree, that C. saxosa is indeed the cutest of all Claytonia-land…
Hey all ya’ll! I am floating my research project on a crowd-sourced ‘kickstarter’ website in hopes to raise $20K for my research and I need your help to get the word out to everyone (feel free to RE-POST this message). I am posting to let you know that you have the opportunity to contribute any amount of funding to my research on rare, predominantly alpine plants and the effects of climate change on the montane flora of California and more broadly throughout North America. No donation will be charged unless I reach my goal, and all donations are tax-deductible!
My project page can be found here, and will be made publicly available next week for exactly 30 days of fundraising:
I’d be happy to provide more information for anyone, and obviously would acknowledge all contributions large and small on my website and in publications. Thanks at least for listening!
I need your help to get the word out to EVERYONE so please RE-POST, Re-Tweet, Instagram, Facebook it, whatever you can do to help!
Possibly my favorite outgroup material, pictured here is Claytonia rubra, a widespread annual species that is a close relative of the group of tuberous perennials that I study.
This species has been involved in a number of ’bouts’ of hybridization primarily with two other annual Claytonia (C. perfoliata and C. parviflora), making the identification of annual species in this group incredibly challenging. Polyploid lineages have been recognized as varieties for this species and others formerly treated as C. perfoliata sensu lato, creating what appears like a continuum of morphological variation in one ‘species’ resulting from recombination among three unique lineages (pictured below).
Why do they call it Claytonia rubra? Well, because it is REALLY RED on the abaxial side (bottom) of the leaves, a condition resulting from increased betalain production, aside from its darker green adaxial surfaces as seen in the first picture. Claytonia parviflora (left) with linear leaves and C. perfoliata (middle) with spatulate leaves are readily distinguished from C. rubra by this morphological character alone, but subtle floral features exist as well that can be used for this group, including petal shape.
Next spring, when you’re out hunting for melting patches of snow to see the pretty Claytonia that are in bloom next to them, be on the look out for ‘miner’s lettuce’ at slightly lower elevations than the tuberous perennials but still in areas of high moisture. Claytonia rubra is typically found in Mixed Conifer habitats, often in deep shade and at higher elevations than other members of the C. perfoliata sensu lato complex.
The C. perfoliata sensu lato complex (including C. rubra) is incredibly ruderal and can be found nearly anywhere in the montane habitats of California and the Southwest, making my choice to study the tuberous perennials seem a bit silly at times. Polyploidy seems to be intimately linked with the successful dispersal into new and disturbed habitats in this group, and it will be interesting to compare with the evolutionary patterns and relationships among the tuberous perennial Claytonia.
I was dropped off at the base of the ski lifts for Mt. Baldy Ski resort as the sun was rising over a gorgeous day in May of 2012. It happened to be a shuttle hike approximately 17.5 miles end to end in the Cucamonga Wilderness of the Angeles National Forest; another solo hike… I hope I’ll be able to find this little thing!
I climbed up as quickly as I could towards the ski runs under Thunder Mountain, where what was once treated as Claytonia lanceolatavar. peirsonii is reported from the steep, forested ridges between the runs. I hadn’t seen these plants in the San Gabriel Mountains just yet, but by this time I had stumbled across a Claytonia in the San Bernardino Mountains two years prior that answered to the rather vague description of this taxon (var. peirsonii) while working for the USDA Forest Service.
That’s it! North-facing slopes! It can be found blooming next to melting patches of snow in areas where there is also heavy accumulation of conifer litter, often with associated species such as Pinus lambertiana, Abies concolor, Pyrola dentata and Fritillaria pinetorum. I don’t see any snow over there, but it fits the bill otherwise!
OK, not quite flowering, but it’ll do. I’ve got two more peaks to ‘bag’ before this day is done if I am to see more Claytonia on this hike. I set off toward Telegraph Peak, where I had to shimmy a bit off trail right over the edge of the north slope down to another historically collected locality for this rare local endemic.
A bit of snow around here, this is more like it! Now I’ve just got to find the little buggers flowering…
What a beauty! Spring Beauty that is… now I just had to get back up to the top of Telegraph to grab the trail over toward Timber Mountain to complete the ‘Three T’s Hike’ I’ve heard so much about.
The north slope of Timber Mountain seemed to be the most ‘typical’ habitat based upon reports for Claytonia lanceolata var. peirsonii, with persistent snow patches as I had just seen over at Telegraph Peak. Sure enough, I was not disappointed by the beauties there!
I made it down to the trailhead around 6pm at Ice House Canyon, where my car had been hanging out all day waiting to hear the news about my big adventure.
“You’ll never believe me, WaSaabi, but I accidentally stepped right onto a rattlesnake’s head this morning. He didn’t seem too thrilled about it.”
The utterly gorgeous Spring Beauty pictured here was a sight for sore eyes after I had a less than pleasant hike this day in March at Death Valley National Park. I drove past Badwater, the low point that most people are familiar with, and grabbed a dirt road that headed toward the Panamint Mountains on the west side of the valley in the direction of Telescope Peak. Little did I know that what I was expecting to be a well-graded dirt road turned out to be a 4-wheel drive only road, and my proposed 9 mile, 3500 ft gain and loss hike had just turned into a 25 mile, 7000 ft gain and loss hike if I wanted to see the Claytonia. Good morning from just above sea level!
The road was long and grueling, with the trail being only slightly more forgiving. I made it up into the Pinyon/Juniper belt by the afternoon and I really started to feel good about the habitat I was seeing, but I was more than exhausted from the hike, and I had a rapidly approaching turn around time of 5pm. It’s got to be around here…
My 5pm alarm went off as I dug up the first couple of plants for voucher specimens. I had to work quickly and run down the mountain before dark set in too deeply, with my head on a swivel to watch for mountain lions. Did I forget to mention I was alone? I’ll definitely be back to this and other desert mountain ranges next spring in the very early spring months (Claytonia is often found blooming next to melting patches of snow). But next time, I’m bringing a truck! Long hike…