Tag Archives: ground plum

Who Was That Nice Man?

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I usually feel pretty good about being a prairie ecologist and the contributions I make to the world.  But, to be completely honest – and you’ll probably find this surprising – I don’t often find opportunities to use my professional skills to help people around town.  For example, you almost never hear people shout “Is there a prairie ecologist in the house??” or “My house is on fire!  Call a prairie ecologist!”

As a result, I was thrilled to be able to apply my expertise right here in my home town the other day.  I was standing in line at the doctor’s office (nothing serious, thanks for asking) when a woman across the waiting room turned to the woman next to her and asked, “Do you know what ‘buffalo pea’ is?”

“Um, no,” the second woman replied.  (I’m not sure the second woman realized it was a plant question…)

With no regard for my busy schedule or of losing my place in line (ok, I was the only one in line – it’s a small town) I strode over to the woman and said, “Excuse me, I know what buffalo pea is!”

And thus started a very pleasant conversation about prairie wildflowers, the Willa Cather novel she was reading, and her recollection of finding buffalo pea as a young girl  – though she didn’t know the name of it then –and peeling one of the pods apart to see what was inside.  I told her a little about the plant’s flowers and edible fruits, and we talked briefly about how accurately and vividly Willa Cather described the prairie in her books.  The woman was clearly delighted that I’d been able to answer her question and provide even more context on the topic.  Prairie botany saves the day!

Buffalo pea, or ground plum (Astragalus crassicarpus) with ripe pods. The pods are delicious when they are still green and tender.

Buffalo pea, or ground plum (Astragalus crassicarpus) with ripe pods. The pods are delicious when they are still green and tender.  The Nature Conservancy’s Niobrara Valley Preserve, Nebraska.

Ok, I know what you’re thinking, but I really don’t need any accolades other than the satisfaction of knowing I helped someone in need.  In fact, I’m sure the woman would have eventually learned about buffalo pea without my help – though she might have had to wait until her grandson’s next visit so he could look it up on his smartphone.  And sure, the woman probably enjoyed her novel much more knowing that she and Willa Cather shared an appreciation for buffalo pea, but, really, I just did what anyone would have done.  Anyone with expertise in prairie ecology, that is.

When we finished our conversation, I excused myself and made my way back over to the receptionist’s desk (there was still no line).  I realized later that I’d forgotten to introduce myself to the woman, or to find out her name.  I can, however, imagine the conversation that must have taken place after I walked away.  The woman surely turned to her neighbor and asked, “Who was that nice man?”

And her companion replied, “Oh, didn’t you recognize him?  Why that’s…The Prairie Ecologist!”

Buffalo pea in bloom. Helzer family prairie near Stockham, Nebraska.

Buffalo pea in bloom. Helzer family prairie near Stockham, Nebraska.

In case you’re not familiar with Willa Cather’s writing, here are three brief excerpts that mention buffalo pea…

Alexandra often said that if her mother were cast upon a desert island, she would thank God for her deliverance, make a garden, and find something to preserve. Preserving was almost a mania with Mrs. Bergson. Stout as she was, she roamed the scrubby banks of Norway Creek looking for fox grapes and goose plums, like a wild creature in search of prey. She made a yellow jam of the insipid ground-cherries that grew on the prairie, flavoring it with lemon peel; and she made a sticky dark conserve of garden tomatoes. She had experimented even with the rank buffalo-pea, and she could not see a fine bronze cluster of them without shaking her head and murmuring, “What a pity!”

O Pioneers! – Willa Cather

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One Sunday I rode over there with Jake to get a horse-collar which Ambrosch had borrowed from him and had not returned. It was a beautiful blue morning. The buffalo-peas were blooming in pink and purple masses along the roadside, and the larks, perched on last year’s dried sunflower stalks, were singing straight at the sun, their heads thrown back and their yellow breasts a-quiver. The wind blew about us in warm, sweet gusts. We rode slowly, with a pleasant sense of Sunday indolence.

My Antonia – Willa Cather

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He struck off by the road,—it could scarcely be called a street, since it ran across raw prairie land where the buffalo-peas were in blossom. Claude walked slower than was his custom, his straw hat pushed back on his head and the blaze of the sun full in his face. His body felt light in the scented wind, and he listened drowsily to the larks, singing on dried weeds and sunflower stalks. At this season their song is almost painful to hear, it is so sweet. He sometimes thought of this walk long afterward; it was memorable to him, though he could not say why.

One of Ours – Willa Cather

Keeping a Low Profile in the Spring

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At times, prairies in east-central Nebraska can have such an abundance of large wildflowers, they resemble flower gardens.  Early spring is not one of those times.  There are plenty of prairie flowers blooming this spring, but you wouldn’t know it from a distance.  In fact, it often seems as if you have to nearly step on a spring wildflower before you see it.

These ground plum flowers, while very pretty, look like they're alone in a vast barren landscape.

These blooming ground plum plant, while very pretty, looks like its alone in a vast barren landscape.  In reality, there are lots of other flowers on the prairie – they’re just hard to see.  This photo was taken last week at Prairie Plains Resource Institute’s Griffith Prairie.

In the coming weeks, things will change.  Late spring and early summer flowers such as ragwort (Senecio plattensis), shell-leaf penstemon (Penstemon grandiflorus) and spiderworts (Tradescantia spp) will be displayed at the top of stems that rise a foot or two from the ground.   Clusters of those flowers can easily be seen from hundreds of yards away.  For now, however, wildflowers are keeping a low profile.

Of course, short stature and small flowers make perfect sense in the early spring.  Flowers that bloom at the beginning of the growing season don’t have much time between winter’s thaw and blooming time (especially this year!)  The small plants are in a race to bloom before neighbors – especially grasses – overtop them, making it difficult for both pollinators and light to find them.   For the most part, spring-flowering plants grow just long enough stems to get their flowers off the ground and make those flowers just big enough to attract pollinating insects.

Wind flower (Anemone caroliniana) blooms at heights of about 3 or 4 inches. Because both the flowers and stems are small, even a big patch of wind flowers can be difficult to see from 15-20 feet away. Photo taken at Prairie Plains Resource Insitute's Griffith Prairie.

Wind flower (Anemone caroliniana) blooms at heights of about 3 or 4 inches. Because both the flowers and stems are small, even a big patch of wind flowers can be difficult to see from 15-20 feet away.

While not universally true, many early flowering plants seem to thrive best when a prairie isn’t loaded with thatch and tall dead vegetation from previous seasons.  Prairies burned during the dormant season or were grazed or hayed the previous summer/fall seem to have the greatest abundance of spring flowers.  Of course, there is some observer bias involved in measuring that since spring flowers are much easier to see in short vegetation…

Wild pansy, aka Johnny Jump-up (Viola rafinesquii), is an annual violet that is spreading (in a good way) across some of our restored Platte River Prairies. It is flourishing this spring in sites that were grazed during last year's drought.

Wild pansy, aka Johnny Jump-up (Viola rafinesquii), is an annual violet that is spreading (in a good way) across some of our restored Platte River Prairies. It is flourishing this spring in sites that were grazed during last year’s drought.

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Many narrowleaf puccoon (Lithospermum incisum) plants are blooming at even shorter heights than usual this spring. While never a tall plant, narrowleaf puccoon often reaches heights of 6-10 inches or so, but this year, many are blooming at 4-6 inches in height.

Many narrowleaf puccoon (Lithospermum incisum) plants are blooming at even shorter heights than usual this spring. While never a tall plant, narrowleaf puccoon often reaches heights of 6-10 inches or so, but this year, many are blooming at 4-6 inches in height.

This spring, I’ve been paying particular attention to prairies that we burned and grazed during drought of 2012.  Most were awfully short, brown, and barren-looking by late last summer and stayed that way through the winter.  It’s been nice to see them greening up this spring and supporting good numbers of wildflowers.  Interestingly, I’ve seen more wind flowers (Anemone caroliniana) this year than I can remember from previous springs.  The two sites in which I’ve seen big patches of wind flowers were both burned and grazed pretty hard last year, making the flowers easy to see, but probably also allowing the plants to grow with little competition for light or other resources.

While spring flowers are short in stature, they seem to be able to attract pollinators.  Of course, many of those pollinators are good at finding hidden plants by following their scent.  In addition, when the number of flowering species is limited, pollinators do what it takes to find whatever flowers are available!

What’s more interesting to me is that as I’ve been seeing and photographing wind flowers over the last week or so, I’ve seen a surprising number of tiny crab spiders on them.  I would guess that there’s a crab spider on one out of every 10-15 flowers, and they all appear (to me) to be of the same species.  I wish I knew how those crab spiders found the flowers.

A crab spider sits on a wind flower on an early morning at Griffith prairie, waiting for the flower to open and attract pollinators for it to catch.

A crab spider sits on a wind flower at Griffith prairie in the early morning, waiting for the flower to open and attract pollinators for it to catch.

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XX miles away from Griffith Prairie, this crab spider (of the same species?) was having a successful afternoon of hunting in our Platte River Prairies.

45 miles away from Griffith Prairie, this crab spider (of the same species?) was having a successful afternoon of hunting on a wind flower in our Platte River Prairies.

I’ve been seeing a lot of trailing silks in the air lately, so I know some spiders are on the move (by ballooning), and I assume young crab spiders disperse that way.  But if they do, landing on or near a flowering plant at this time of year seems awfully unlikely.  Are the crab spiders I’m seeing on wind flowers the lucky few that landed near a good hunting place?  Or are most crab spiders able to find a flower to hunt on, even in the spring when flowers are scattered around in low numbers?  If so, how?

Maybe one of you will be able to answer those questions for me.  For now, I’ll just add them to my long list of other questions – a list that will surely grow considerably during this coming field season.