Diane Porter

Posts 9 Comments 0

Iowa wildflower Wednesday: Cutleaf grapefern

Diane Porter of Fairfield first published this post on My Gaia, an email newsletter “about getting to know nature” and “giving her a helping hand in our own backyards.” Diane also maintains the Birdwatching Dot Com website and bird blog.

Rising above the dead leaves and grasses, a golden wand swept upward in the woods. It could easily be overlooked. It made me think of some slender animal, unfamiliar, perhaps mythical, standing on its hind legs to look in wonder at where it had found itself.

The Cutleaf Grapefern (Sceptridium dissectum) was less than a foot tall, festooned with delicate chains of gold. I knelt for a closer look. The gold chains resolved into lines of tiny spheres — like miniature grapes.

However, they are not fruits. These small golden balls are filled with spores, the microscopic particles that new ferns come from.

Among several kinds of grape ferns, this particular species is known as Cutleaf Grapefern. It grows along a wooded path near my house in southeast Iowa. A single green leaf comes up in spring. In fall, the stalk of golden balls appears. That’s usually when I spot the fern.

Only two fronds

A mature Cutleaf Grapefern has exactly two leaves. Or fronds, as fern leaves are often called.

The two fronds are about the same size, but they are different. They don’t even look related.

The leafy frond

One frond emerges in spring, looking like a clump of light green leaves close to the ground. Actually, it is all one frilly leaf, growing on a single stem. It is called the sterile frond, because it has no reproductive structures. It performs photosynthesis, to nourish the entire plant. Young Cutleaf Grapeferns may have only this one kind of frond.

The sterile, leafy frond does photosynthesis to nourish the whole fern

The fertile frond

The other frond, which emerges in late summer or fall, bears the golden orbs containing spores. It is the fertile frond, responsible for reproduction. In fall we find the plants with the two kinds of fronds visible at the same time.

The fertile frond produces spores to create the next generation

Side by side

The two fronds of the one fern grow out of the same spot on the root, separating just before they reach the surface of the soil.

Fertile-frond stem and sterile-frond stem come up close together

Still on my knees, I blew lightly on the golden fertile frond, and a slight puff of fog wafted away from it. The spores! 

OK, I couldn’t resist. I had to snip a piece from the fertile frond and take it home to the microscope. Sporangia resemble golden grapes. Everything in this magnified view would fit under the tip of my little finger:

Cutleaf grapefern sporangia and spores

Now, under the microscope, I got a better look at the golden spheres. They are called sporangia. They hold the spores. (Sporangium, Latin, means spore vessel.) A sporangium is about one millimeter in diameter.

Some showed a sort of crease around the equator. One sporangium was splitting along the crease. I zoomed in on it and gave the gentlest poke. The crease opened and revealed what must have been thousands of spores.

Sporangia contain spores:

Each sporangium will split to emit spores:

Thousands of spores:

Ferns make no flowers and generate no seeds. They reproduce by means of spores, which they release into the air.

The two open sporangia at left in this magnified image have shed most of their spores:

Two stages of life

Each spore is microscopic, comprised of only one cell. Virtually weightless, it rides the air away from the fertile frond of its parent. 

First stage: the gametophyte

If the spore of a Cutleaf Grapefern lands in a suitably shady, damp location, it grows into a fingernail-sized plant that lives submerged underground. It doesn’t look like the fern we normally see. This part of the fern’s life cycle is known as the gametophyte stage. 

No food comes along with the spore, and it has no access to sunlight or photosynthesis. It lives on nutrition supplied by soil fungi as it slowly grows. Maturation can take from two to ten years. 

Once mature, it produces both eggs and sperm. Rain water carries the sperm to the eggs, and fertilization takes place.

Second stage: the sporophyte

The fertilized egg is a new individual. It develops roots. It emerges above ground, looking the way we often think of ferns. This form of the fern is known as the sporophyte stage.

Fern life plan

The fern lives by switching between generations of the two distinct life stages: gametophyte and sporophyte. Each generation produces the other, in a cycle. Such a life plan is called alternation of generations. It’s characteristic of all ferns.

Cutleaf Grapefern is widely found throughout eastern North America. I have seen it in sparse woodlands, but it is also found in grassy areas and even deep forest.

Here is a range map of Cutleaf Grapefern by BONAP (The Biota of North America Program). Light green means found in a county. Dark green means found in the state but not the county.

The names

Common names: Cutleaf Grapefern, Dissected Grapefern. 

It’s described as “Cutleaf” because it appears as if cut with scissors into frilly designs.
The name “Grapefern” was inspired by the grapey appearance of the sporangia. 

Scientific names: Sceptridium dissectum.

Botrychium dissectum used to be its name, but that has been changed on the basis of new understanding of the evolutionary relationships between different ferns. Many books and online sources still use the older name.

The first part of the scientific name, Sceptridium, comes from a Greek word meaning scepter, from the upright, curving shape of the fertile frond.

The second part of the scientific name, dissectum to refers leafy frond’s ruffled appearance, which looks as if it’s been cut many times.

Similar species: There are about ten species of Sceptridium ferns in North America, with at least one growing in every state save Nebraska. All have sporangia similar to Cutleaf Grapefern.

Continue Reading...

Iowa wildflower Wednesday: Willow aster

Diane Porter of Fairfield first published this post on My Gaia, an email newsletter “about getting to know nature” and “giving her a helping hand in our own backyards.” Diane also maintains the Birdwatching Dot Com website and bird blog.

If I indulge my fantasy, I imagine asters as sentient beings, each with its own personality. If that were the case, then Willow Asters would be aristocrats, with their subtle lavender petals, slender leaves, and graceful poses.

If she were a lady, she would host gracious, elegant parties by a lake. Suitors would long for her attention.

There are indeed beings who visit her every hour of the day. She is always attended by bees, butterflies, and myriad other insects.

Continue Reading...

Iowa wildflower Wednesday: Groundnut

Diane Porter of Fairfield first published this post on My Gaia, an email newsletter “about getting to know nature” and “giving her a helping hand in our own backyards.” Diane also maintains the Birdwatching Dot Com website and bird blog.

Walking a damp trail at the woods edge, I’m surrounded by flowers. Pink and purple clusters of blossoms dangle from low branches and brush my face.

This is Groundnut (Apios americana), a native flowering vine of North America. It creates a magical feeling, like a lovers’ bower in a fantasy.

Continue Reading...

Iowa wildflower Wednesday: Prairie blazing star

Diane Porter of Fairfield first published this post on My Gaia, an email newsletter “about getting to know nature” and “giving her a helping hand in our own backyards.” Diane also maintains the Birdwatching Dot Com website and bird blog.

Mid-summer, yellow flowers start dominating the grassy field. But then prairie blazing star (Liatris pycnostachya) shoots up sizzling rose-purple shafts of color, like big fuzzy light sabers, and steals the show.

Continue Reading...

Iowa wildflower Wednesday: Blue-eyed grass

Diane Porter of Fairfield first published this post on My Gaia, an email newsletter “about getting to know nature” and “giving her a helping hand in our own backyards.” Diane also maintains the Birdwatching Dot Com website and bird blog.

So small and hiding. You could walk right past them. But look down into the long grasses, and you’ll see their tiny blue faces looking up at you.

Continue Reading...

Iowa wildflower Wednesday: Ohio spiderwort

Diane Porter of Fairfield first published this post on My Gaia, an email newsletter “about getting to know nature” and “giving her a helping hand in our own backyards.” Diane also maintains the Birdwatching Dot Com website and bird blog.

Ohio Spiderworts (Tradescantia ohiensis) wake me up when I look out the window. Although only a few flowers are open at a time, the bright golden anthers play against their color-opposite purple petals. My eyes shimmer.

It’s a morning-only vision. Around noon the flowers close up tight. As if to say, “Come back tomorrow.” For the rest of the day, spiderworts are simply green, easy to overlook.

But next sunrise, a fresh crop of purple-petaled blossoms opens. From the center of each flower, slender columns reach up. These are the reproductive parts of the flowers.

Continue Reading...

Iowa wildflower Wednesday: Compass plant

Diane Porter of Fairfield first published this post on My Gaia, an email newsletter “about getting to know nature” and “giving her a helping hand in our own backyards.” Diane also maintains the Birdwatching Dot Com website and bird blog.

On stems up to 12 feet tall, the yellow blossoms of Compass Plant (Silphium laciniatum) tower over other wildflowers. Down below, the roots reach into the earth as deep as 16 feet.

Continue Reading...

Iowa wildflower Wednesday: Baldwin's ironweed

Diane Porter of Fairfield first published this post on My Gaia, a Substack newsletter “about getting to know nature” and “giving her a helping hand in our own backyards.” Diane also maintains the Birdwatching Dot Com website and bird blog.

When the first people walked on the tall grass prairie of North America, they found Baldwin’s Ironweed (Vernonia baldwinii). It can grow almost anywhere the sun shines, including on dry, rocky soil. It’s important for feeding butterflies, moths and especially native bees.

The blooming top looks like a natural bouquet of about a dozen flowers plus some buds that haven’t opened yet. Each one of what looks like individual flowers is actually a smaller bouquet, made up of 20-or-so tiny florets. (Floret = little flower.)

Continue Reading...

Iowa wildflower Wednesday: The ant and the trillium

Diane Porter of Fairfield first published this post on Birdwatching Dot Com.

Last week I found a big black ant rushing across my kitchen counter. Tightly clenched in its jaws was a Prairie Trillium seed, which was attached to a cream-colored swoop. The ant kept darting under the edges of objects. I tried to get it into view so I could get a picture. But the ant was too quick and agile for me.

I prodded at the seed with a toothpick, but the ant would not let go. We battled this way for a minute. I tried not to harm the ant, but clearly I was causing it aggravation. Ultimately it dropped the seed and disappeared into a crack at the edge of the sink. At least now I could study the seed.

Continue Reading...