Urban Ecology Outsider

A botanist explores overlooked wild places in the city and beyond

Goldenrods (Solidago spp.) in a vacant lot (south end Halifax)  ©J. Lundholm 

I went on a long hike with my partner last weekend, all the way to the end of the land at Pennant Point (Crystal Crescent Provincial Park). The hike takes us through dense coastal spruce forest, then winds along dunes that border the popular sand beaches. After a half hour we reach the rocky coast where the bulges of granitic bedrock are exposed. as we head closer to the outermost point of land, barrens become the main landscape. It took us less than two hours to reach the furthest extent of the trail before it loops back toward the parking area, but instead of turning back after a brief rest at the point like we usually do, equipped with collapsible camp chairs, sketchbooks, journals and lunch, we spent the whole day out on the barrens.

Coastal barrens at Crystal Crescent Provincial Park. ©J. Lundholm.

At this time of year, the barrens vegetation is still bright green, we’ve still got maybe another month of growing season left. Late flowering plants like the goldenrods and asters provide accents of bright colour: chrome yellow for most of the goldenrods, yellow-white for “silverrod” and a pale lavender for the New York aster.  

A variety of habitats on the coastal barrens (Crystal Crescent Provincial Park) ©J. Lundholm

Seaside goldenrod (Solidago sempervirens) ©J. Lundholm.

I love goldenrods for many reasons: they are easy to grow from seed, they support pollinators, the different species are generally easy to tell apart and then there’s the colour[1]. I have at least five species of native goldenrod in my front yard. Bees, butterflies and hoverflies are common visitors to both the asters and goldenrods. One December, we had a brief thaw where the temperatures went above zero for a few days. New York asters growing beside the street, only existing as seemingly dead stalks, put out new flowers (they’re still alive?!). And bees woke up too (small bumblebees if I remember correctly) due to the unseasonable weather, and I saw them visiting the aster flowers. This convinced me that our local asters are important plants for our wild pollinators.

White goldenrod or silverrod (Solidago bicolor) ©J. Lundholm.


These barrens are normally blasted by high winds coming off the ocean and the vegetation reflects this. At the most exposed point, black crowberry forms vast carpets only reaching a few centimeters above the ground. This sea of green is dotted with equally short asters looking like brilliant stars among the “sky” of dark crowberry leaves. The effect of sustained wind on plants is obvious when we take a side trail heading inland; members of the same plant species growing on the coast gradually get taller. One of the things I love about barrens plants is that the flowers of any species tend to remain the same size while the overall size of the plants decreases as conditions get harsher. These asters have a relatively large flower on a tiny plant.[2] Great example of this: some of the crowberry mats also have very short bayberry shrubs, we’re talking ankle height. For contrast, one of the bayberry plants in my front yard (very sheltered, not stressed) is about 6 m (20 feet) high: and from exactly the same species as the barrens plants. When we see the diminutive bayberries on the barrens, we both do a double take asking: is this actually the same species?

New York aster (Symphyotrichum novi-belgii) with black crowberry (Empetrum nigrum), common juniper (Juniperus communis) and others… ©J. Lundholm


Back to the insects. My students who studied pollinators informed me that these insects don’t like to fly during windy, cold or rainy conditions. Perfect hiking conditions, like the ones we had that day last weekend, are also perfect conditions for pollinators to gather nectar and pollen from plants. Many of the berry producing shrubs on barrens are pollinated by insects; some, like blueberries and huckleberries need buzz pollination for optimal fruit set, a service provided by bumblebees.

Documenting the bee species that visit barrens flowers was the topic of several student theses in my research lab over the years. It was a surprise to see so many butterflies close to the ocean, especially on the seaside goldenrod: the preferred habitat of this goldenrod experiences high wind, salt spray and overwash by waves during storms. The only plants that live there are considered halophytes (salt-tolerant plants) and this can’t be a preferred place for delicate butterflies to hang out. The most surprising thing we saw was many many monarch butterflies visiting the goldenrods on these barrens.

Monarch (Danaus flexippus) on seaside goldenrod. ©J. Lundholm

Presumably these are adults at the beginning of their migration to their wintering grounds in the southern US and Mexico. There are no milkweeds found on the barrens here, so these individuals have already migrated from inland habitats where their milkweed nursery plants are abundant. Monarchs are endangered and have been declining for years, so seeing this coastal barren environment providing for an endangered butterfly warms the heart, and gives additional evidence of the value of barrens vegetation for pollinators. The coastal barrens pose challenges to plants and insects, but we can appreciate the flexibility and opportunism of the natural world where pollinators take advantage of a rare low-wind morning to fuel up for an incredible migration. And the plants are ready and willing to provide nectar for the butterflies, in return for the transfer of pollen from one individual to another, we assume.

Good luck monarchs!

[1] PSA: goldenrods are insect pollinated, and generally have relatively large sticky pollen that doesn’t float around in the wind very much; hay fever allergies are caused by ragweed which is wind-pollinated and tends to flower at the same time as goldenrod.


 


[2] I imagine this is related to the same phenomenon whereby adult humans instinctually find small humans cute because they have large eyes relative to small bodies (and apparently, this transfers to animals: baby animals also share these characteristics of babies: tiny bodies, relatively large eyes). Obviously, we don’t see flowers as eyes, but something about a tiny plant with a regular size flower just appeals to me. Overall, I’m just struck by the conservatism of flower size in contrast to the the relative plasticity of plant body size. The barrens plants showcase this.




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