December 31, 2018 by mattbuckinghamphotography

Autumn in the Pineywoods

East Texas Waterfall

As I write this, on a cold and rainy day at the end of December, all but a handful of brave trees have cast their leaves in preparation for the darkness and cold that winter brings. Days like this it’s easy to long for the milder days and brilliant colors of fall. This year was a particularly beautiful autumn in the Pineywoods, with many species putting on displays of color that I had not seen for some time. To fight off the gloom of this winter’s day, I decided to live vicariously through my memories as I chronicle my autumn explorations here.

We’ll start on my birthday. At the start of October, the days have become shorter and the temperatures begin to cool. October has always been one of my favorite months here in Texas. The colors begin to turn, and the climate is mild. Cool enough that it is pleasant to be outside, yet warm enough that many winter-adverse species such as reptiles and insects are still active. A number of interesting fall-blooming plants are also on display in this month of the Hunter’s Moon.

On my birthday we set out to find a few such plants. The first that we came across was the Indian Pipe (Monotropa uniflora), also known as the Ghost or Corpse Plant. This interesting fungus-eating plant is a member of the blueberry family, of all things. It does not produce chlorophyll like most traditional plants, but rather obtains its energy and nutrients from the mycorhizzal fungi of tree roots. In Texas they may begin to bloom in late August or early September, and I have seen them as late at January (late in the sense that it is at the end of the blooming season for this species). The flowers’ superficial resemblance to a pipe as inspired stories in Native American folklore, including the idea that these plants mark the graves of old chiefs, and provide them a vessel with which to smoke from the afterlife.

Indian Pipes

Growing near the Indian Pipes, in the shade of American Beech was a rare treat, Tall Rattlesnake Root (Prenanthes altissima). Though it may line the roadsides further east, it is known from only a few isolated locations in extreme eastern Texas. Here it grows on steep hillside springheads and the banks of springfed streams in mature hardwood forests.

Tall Rattlesnake Root

Ample rains in September fueled a profusion of fungi, whose fibrous filaments draw moisture from the earth and feed on the ample detritus beneath the leaf litter. Fungi are fascinating, beautiful organisms. They lead most of their lives hidden below ground, but grace us with a spectacular display when their fruiting bodies form. Perhaps my favorites are the many varieties of coral fungus. Each is unique, and contain an intricate maze of protrusions that seem crafted by some avant-garde architect.

Coral Fungus

Many species of fungus are quite toxic to humans, but there are some that are said to be delicious. I personally have never been brave enough to try wild mushrooms. It seems like for every edible species there is a lethal, or at least debilitating look-alike. One species that is favored by foragers is the Indigo Milk Cap (Lactarius indigo) which an be found in hardwood bottoms in late summer and early fall.

Indigo Milk Cap

Fungi come in a staggering array of shapes and colors. They are also fun to photograph, and lead the mind to find interesting angles and compositions with which to present them.

Fungi (I believe these are chanterelles)

Fungi

Autumn also signals the beginning of the salamander breeding season in East Texas. In mid-October conditions were right for Marbled Salamanders (Ambystoma opacum) to make their annual breeding migrations. Unlike most members of the family Ambystomatidae, which breed in the water during late winter and early spring, the Marbled Salamander breeds on dry land, and the females lay their eggs under woody debris within dry vernal pool basins. They will then guard the eggs as they wait for winter rains to fill the pools and disperse and hatch their offspring. By doing this they get a leg up on the competition, so to speak, which comes in the form of other amphibian larvae that won’t begin to develop for another couple of months.

Marbled Salamander Male

Marbled Salamanders are one of relatively few amphibian species that are sexually dimorphic. The males (pictured above) have bright silvery white dorsal patterns while the females (pictured below) have duller silver to coppery markings. The males also display a swollen cloaca at the base of their tail during the breeding season.

Marbled Salamander

In late October Caro and I spent a damp autumn day in the woods with our friends James and Erin. It provided a chance to capture more images of interesting fungi, like these Earthstars, which look like little puff balls wearing tutus.

Earthstars

We also observed a number of insects like these seemingly affectionate Six-spotted Flower Longhorn Beetles (Strangalia sexnotata).

Six-spotted Flower Longhorn Beetles

We also found a few Rainbow Scarabs (Phanaeus vindex), a spectacular beetle that I highlighted in a previous blog post.

Rainbow Scarab

And then there were the Indian Pipes. We found hundreds in a remnant Longleaf Pine savannah, pushing up through the dense carpet of needles and cones. It became somewhat of a game seeing who could spot the most. Per usual, Caro won by a landslide.

Indian Pipes

One October day I received a call from my wife that she had found a recently hit Gray Fox next to the road. Being eccentric biologist types, we decided that we wanted to try to get its skeleton for study and admiration. So we called James and Erin, who own a large tract of land, and asked if we could set it out there to decompose. Being a couple of biologists themselves, they gladly agreed and we loaded the fox carcass in the bed of my truck and set out on the half-hour or so journey to their farm.

Just after we arrived, I heard my wife call out, “Look at this!” No surprise really, as she has an uncanny talent for spotting creatures, plants, and any other thing that remains invisible to most. She had found a large adult female Carolina Mantis (Stagmomantis carolina), hiding among the goldenrod blooms near the Childress cabin.

Carolina Mantis

Of course, in our haste to make our morbid delivery I had forgotten my camera. Fortunately James was kind enough to lend me his. We approached the scene and I tried to formulate a plan on how to best photograph this spectacular insect. As we drew near we noticed the carcasses of Common Eastern Bumblebees (Bombus impatiens) scattered about the ground, dismembered and drained of their juices. Oblivious to the danger, there were several more bees nectaring on the goldenrod just inches from the mantis. So I found a good angle and waited to see if I might capture some action. I set the lens on a bee that was slowly creeping closer and closer to this devourer of pollinators. The bee brushed against the mantis’s leg, yet still the predator remained still. Its head slowly cocked and it’s antennae twitched ever so slightly. Deliberately and methodically it crept toward the ravenous bumble bee. Its movements were almost imperceptible. I captured the image below as it zeroed in on the bee and prepared its strike.

Seconds after I captured this image the mantis did strike, though I only managed to record a blur of green. It missed, and the bee flew to a distant part of the same plant to continue feeding. Later we would see the mantis in the middle of devouring another unfortunate Bombus impatiens, though we missed the strike. In all it would seem that this ruthless hunter his doing quite well on the goldenrod she has staked claim to. She remained on that withering goldenrod well into December.

Seconds from Disaster

A few days before Halloween, Caro and I set out to look for signs of fall along backroads and deep in the forest. Colors were beginning to change, with vines like Virginia Creeper and Poison Ivy putting on a brilliant display. Elms, hickories, and even some red maples were beginning to lose their chlorophyll while baldcypress was nearing peak color. Monarchs are passing through en masse, and were joined at fall blooming plants by Gulf Fritillaries, Buckeyes, and American Ladies.

In the late afternoon we came across a stunning Canebrake Rattlesnake (Crotalus horridus) taking in the Sun’s fading warmth. It was one of the lightest snakes I’ve seen, with narrow bands of almost pure white along its chevrons. I would put it at a bit under three feet in length, a decent size. And like most of its kind that I’ve encountered it rattled only briefly, and was incredible docile and non-aggressive throughout our interaction.

Canebrake Rattlesnake

After spending some time with this spectacular denizen of the deep woods, we were able to turn up a couple of Marbled Salamanders and Southern Leopard Frogs adjacent to a series of ephemeral wetlands. I then noticed a large fallen tree, its branches arching above the forest floor. While admiring the verdance of the mosses and Resurrection Fern coating the bark, I glimpsed an unusual creature swaying back and forth. It was a huge Megarhyssa atrata (a type of giant ichneumon) busy probing the chambers of horntail wasp larvae with her ovipositor. She lays her eggs in the soft flesh of these larvae, where they will hatch and consume their host as they develop. This downed tree was literally swarming with Megarhyssa atrata and M. macrurus. Though they may be “creepy” looking, these large insects are harmless and fascinating.

Megarhyssa atrata

In early November we set out to look for Long-lipped Ladies’ Tresses (Spiranthes longilabris) a rare orchid of fire-maintained Longleaf Pine Savannahs. A species of the coastal plain, they reach the western extent of their range in East Texas. Uncommon to rare throughout their range, in Texas they are known from only a handful of sites in the Big Thicket.

Long-lipped Ladies’ Tresses

Another East Texas rarity is the Kidney-leaved Grass-of-Parnassus (Parnassia asarifolia). To my knowledge, they only persist along a single drainage in the Pineywoods.

Kidney-leaved Grass-of-Parnassus

A favorite past time of Carolina and me is wandering around Ellen Trout Park here in Lufkin. There are usually a variety of interesting things to be seen, including several resident Great Egrets (Ardea alba).

Great Egret

The star attraction of the park, however, is a pair of Bald Eagles (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) that nest there each year. It wasn’t so long ago that Bald Eagles were nearing extinction, but a variety of factors including the banning of DDT and Federal regulations like the Endangered Species Act and Bald and Golden Eagle Protection Act brought them back from the brink.

While most of East Texas’s species suffered greatly from the construction of large reservoirs, this is one of a few species that has actually benefited. The damming of the major rivers of the region created tens of thousands of acres of suitable habitat for the large raptors. In East Texas, Bald Eagles prefer to nest near the top of large pine trees adjacent to large water bodies. I composed the image below to capture the essence of this habitat.

Bald Eagle

By late November, fall color had begun arriving in earnest. One one of our frequent evening drives, I spotted the stereotypical Pineywoods scene below along the backroads.

Florida Maple (Acer floridanum) generally displays a brilliant golden yellow during autumn. This year they put on quite a show on slopes and along riverbanks.

Florida Maples

In some areas Florida Maples can be found growing alongside Red Maples (Acer rubrum). In the fall, Red Maple comes in a variety of colors, including yellow, orange, and red. In the image below it held up to its namesake, and provided an excellent contrast to the bright yellows of the Florida Maple next door.

A Meeting of Maples

The Pineywoods of East Texas are known for their towering forests. While breathtaking in their own right, the abundance of trees blocks the horizon, and there are not many places in East Texas that offer broad views of the landscape. There are a few exceptions on high ridges, however, like this spot east of Nacogdoches. Here the crowns of pines and a diversity of hardwoods creates a beautiful fall palette of greens, oranges, and yellows.

Bird’s Eye View

Many species of butterfly remain active well into the fall. One of the most common is the Gulf Fritillary (Agraulis vanillae). We often see them nectaring alongside other species on fall blooming wildflowers like these asters.

Gulf Fritillary

In late November, Carolina and I made our way north to explore the forests of Cherokee and Smith Counties. Here we found countless beautiful scenes, of which I attempted to capture just a small fraction of their brilliance with the images below.

Dressed in Gold

Autumn Exposure

During this day trip, we visited Tyler State Park for the first time. The State Park system of Texas protects a multitude of important and interesting natural and cultural features. The park was beautiful, with ample fall color among mature mixed pine-hardwood forests and infrastructure created by the Civilian Conservation Corps.

I generally avoid including man-made elements in my images, however the road through the state park seemed to be asking to be photographed. I captured the image to remind me of one of my favorite past times – driving quiet back roads in fall…

The Road to Autumn

…and hiking in the autumnal forest. If you look closely in the image below you can see a hiker’s footbridge beneath Flowering Dogwoods with foliage aflame.

Tyler State Park Trail

The color of the day was definitely orange, a deviation from the standard yellows and occasional reds typical further south. The Red Maples in particular were glowing. We enjoyed our time in the park, and will likely be making a repeat visit soon!

Autumn’s Orange

Maples in the Midstory

Some autumn scenes display a more subtle beauty. I captured the scene below in the floodplain of the Neches River. The Inland Sea Oats blanketing the ground had turned brown. The bark of Sugarberries added contrast while the fall foliage of distant elms added a splash of color.

All that Remains

Perhaps the most spectacular fall scene would not reveal itself until December, when I went to visit a waterfall recently discovered by my friend Scott. This waterfall is hidden deep forest in an area where steep ravines funnel water, whose power carves shallow canyons into the erodible mudstone of the Wilcox Formation. The slopes that grade down to this stream are decorated with the golden autumn foliage of American Beech and likely harbor a vernal flora rich in peripheral species of the great Eastern deciduous forests.

There are few things that bring me more joy than a walk in the autumn woods, and though the season has turned, it’s hard to fret too much. Winter resident birds have arrived and salamanders have begun to breed. Though winter may seem the bleakest of seasons, there is lots of life for those willing to look. So for now, I will look forward to the winter and spring, and say, “until next time, autumn!”

November 28, 2018 by mattbuckinghamphotography

Finding Paradise in the Bandera Canyonlands

Hill Country Waterfall

It’s a pilgrimage that many Texans undertake at some point – to see the fall colors of Lost Maples. Despite living in Texas for over 20 years and extensively exploring all corners of the state, it was a trip I had yet to take. This year we finally decided to see what the fuss was about. It would turn out to be an adventure, filled with frustrations and rewards.

Carolina and I left early and made our way to the Bandera Canyonlands, a term used by the nature conservancy to describe the region in the western Hill Country that contains a labyrinth of canyons carved through the limestone over millennia by springfed streams.

We arrived at the Love Creek Preserve in the early afternoon. We were granted special permission to visit this preserve which has limited public access. The Love Creek Preserve is another example of the substantial conservation efforts of The Nature Conservancy in Texas. Here they succeeded in protecting over 2,500 acres of excellent Hill Country habitat, home to rare plants and animals and numerous Texas endemics. The preserve also protects several spring-heads which feed tributaries to the Medina River, which ultimately feeds the Edward’s Aquifer. The Nature Conservancy truly has protected some of the most spectacular places in the Lonestar State.

It was a sunny day, and being early in the afternoon, the conditions were not ideal for photography. I took my gear along anyway, as one never knows what they might encounter in a place such as this. I carried my camera atop my tripod as I descended the precarious canyon walls with little difficulty. I then rock-hopped my way across a wide stream without incident. Then, after casually stepping on an innocuous boulder I somehow lost my footing and went down hard. I was extremely unhappy, as Carolina can attest, but not hurt. Then I looked at my camera, laying lens first in the cobble adjacent to the stream. I feared the worst. Miraculously my camera and lens survived unscathed, but my neutral density filter and circular polarizing filter had both been cracked. I could live without the latter, but the polarizer is a crucial bit of gear for photographing fall color. I was disheartened, to say the least.

I tried not to let this bad news dampen my enjoyment of the small canyon that we had set out to explore. Just being in such a place – taking in it’s sights, smells, and sounds, is a joy and a privilege that I feel fortunate to have experienced. And as the sun drew closer to the top of the canyon walls I was able to capture a sunburst through the leaves of a Bigtooth Maple that quivered in a gentle Autumn breeze.

Hill Country Canyon

As the daylight faded, we bid farewell to Love Creek, for the time being at least. Our base camp, so to speak, for the trip was the Cool River Cabin, located on the Native American Seed farm near Junction. Native American Seed is a fantastic company that grows a huge assortment of native plants and offers seeds and root stock for sale. They rent out the cabin, which is actually a three bedroom house with two porches and a full kitchen! It is a short walk from the Llano River, and contains scenic views and abundant wildlife. I highly recommend staying here!

The next morning we set out to the Caverns of Sonora. It was one of the more extensive cave tours I’ve taken in Texas cave country, and we marveled at the subterranean formations. After exploring the caves we spent some time at the Eaton Hill Nature Center in Sonora. We discovered this little gem by chance, and thoroughly enjoyed the exhibits which include several live rattlesnakes.

As the shadows grew longer we found ourselves at South Llano River State Park. A good portion of the park remained closed due to the unprecedented flooding experienced by the region just a month before our visit. There was still plenty to see, however. Not long after entering the park we were greeted by a large Nine-banded Armadillo (Dasypus novemcinctus) foraging in a mowed area adjacent to some dense brush. It was quite focused on its pursuit of dinner, and barely took a second to lift his head long enough for me to fire off a shot. Armadillos are one of our more entertaining mammals, often allowing for a close approach due to their generally poor senses. When they do finally realize that there is a perceived threat too close for comfort they will suddenly stop their activity, and bolt off, bounding erratically toward the safety of denser brush.

Nine-banded Armadillo

We came upon a group of Woodhouse’s Scrub Jays (Aphelocoma woodhouseii) scouring a juniper thicket as the sun vanished behind the distant hills. These intelligent, expressive birds are a joy to watch as they examine their surroundings. They seem to display genuine curiosity and approach problem solving with some semblance of enjoyment. Until recently these were considered Western Scrub Jays, but were split due to genetic evidence that suggest they, as well as the California Scrub Jay, Island Scrub Jay, and Florida Scrub Jay are distinct species.

There was very little light to work with, and I took the image below at 1600 ISO and 1/200 second. The resulting image was grainy and softer than I would have liked. I debated trashing the image, but decided that I liked the texture and colors on the bird, so I tried to clean it up through post processing. I ended up with an image that i was happy with. As digital photo processing technology continues to advance, I find myself saving more and more images that I would have otherwise thrown away.

Woodhouse’s Scrub Jay

That night, I posed the idea of traveling the three hour round trip from our cabin to a Best Buy in San Antonio to buy a new polarizing filter, and Caro agreed. I am very fortunate to have a wife that encourages my passions so. We returned “home” that evening around at around 11 o’clock, with a new polarizing filter that I hoped would help my lens bring out the colors of the canyons.

The next day broke to gray skies. We were up and out early, packing our things and bidding farewell to the Native American Seed Farm. Our first destination would be Lost Maples State Natural Area. This iconic park is extremely popular from mid October through November, particularly on the weekends, which just happens to be when we arrived. We learned, as we watched vehicle after vehicle pour in, that it had been a less than stellar year for the maples in the park, apparently affected by the heavy rains a month prior. Many of the leaves had simply turned brown and fallen from the trees. The park was certainly beautiful, as we hiked along droves of other leaf peepers, but it did not provide that spectacular autumn color that I had hoped for.

Lost Maples gets its name for the relictual populations of Bigtooth Maple (Acer grandidentatum) that persist in the area. Once more widespread throughout the region, as the glaciars retreated and the climate in the region warmed and dried, the maples were pushed to moist canyons along sprinfed streams and rivers.

The State Natural Area is not the only place to protect remnant groves of Bigtooth Maples however. After spending a couple of hours hiking popular trails, we decided to return to Love Creek. On the way we explored a few county roads to see what we might see. The morning was cold, with temperatures never leaving the 40s. The last thing I expected to find was a snake, however that’s exactly what I expected when we saw a group of Black-crested Titmice going crazy just a few feet off the ground. They were chattering incessantly, crests raised, hopping from branch to branch staring directly at the ground. Shaking off the cold I approached, and saw a gray and yellow striped serpent stretched out across the ground.

It was a young Baird’s Rat Snake (Pantherophis bairdi), not something I had expected to find here at the eastern edge of their range on such a cold November day. They are restricted in range to the Trans-Pecos and western Edward’s Plateau of Texas, and adjacent northeastern Mexico. They are one of our state’s most beautiful snakes, in my opinion, displaying shades of steely gray, yellow, and orange. Despite the cold, this individual was feisty, and once disturbed never backed down from his coiled defensive posture.

Baird’s Rat Snake

After spending some time in the company of the splendid reptile, we continued onto Love Creek the sheltered canyons here were displaying spectacular color not seen at Lost Maples. We marveled at the shades of orange and yellow that glowed like flames brightening the otherwise dreary day.

Bigtooth Maples at Love Creek

My friend David Bezanson of the Nature Conservancy told us where we could find a waterfall that drained the crystal clear springfed water of one of the many canyons that cut into the preserve’s limestone bluffs. It was like an oasis in otherwise semi-arid country. Mosses and Maiden-hair Fern clung to the rock, kept perpetually moist by spray from the falling waters. I could imagine the water at the base of the falls stayed cool, clear, and deep even during the height of summer.

Each angle of the falls provided some unique perspective. The contrast of the aquamarine waters, the bright green ferns, and the yellows of overhanging witch hazel and orange of distant maples painted a scene that seemed almost impossibly beautiful.

IMG_6522ab

Venturing into the narrow canyon that fed the falls, we found a lush forest that seemed out of place in this region that is knocking on the desert’s door. Towering trees shaded a thick layer of leaf litter that blanketed scattered boulders and smaller rocks. Beneath this leaf litter we found several Western Slimy Salamanders (Plethodon albagula). Another relict of cooler time, the central Texas populations of P. albagula are isolated from the the main portion of the species’s range by hundreds of miles, with the nearest known populations occurring in southwest Oklahoma. Genetic analyses may reveal that this disjunct population is in fact a species unto itself.

Western Slimy Salamanders

The trees here are remarkable as well, and include several other disjunct, relictual species like American Basswood, Chinkapin Oak, and Witch Hazel. They join the Bigtooth Maples, Lacey Oak, Texas Red Oak, Texas Mountain Laurel, Texas Redbud, and more to create a diverse, layered, closed-canopy forest.

As we ventured deeper into the canyon we found the stream’s source. Water was literally pouring out from the base of a massive limestone cliff, nourishing verdant Maiden-hair Fern, and what I imagined to be a profusion of spring wildflowers. The water here is home to an endemic species of neotonic Eurycea. It was humbling to see the literal source of so much life.

Water pours from the base of a limestone cliff, fueling a lush, diverse canyon

Deeper into the preserve we found a wider, drier canyon fed by a different spring. Here the maples were absent, but Texas Red Oak (Quercus buckleyi) provided a splash of color to the scene. I was truly blown away by the beauty of this place, an area unlike any other in the world. I don’t proclaim to know if Heaven exists, but in my book, the Bandera Canyonlands are about as close to Heaven on Earth as one can get.

Bandera Canyonlands

August 10, 2018 by mattbuckinghamphotography

Spring in the Pineywoods

Kentucky Lady’s Slippers – A Gift of Spring

As I sit here typing, we are in the height of August, which has the misfortune of traditionally being our most miserable month – at least climatically speaking. So as the dried grass crunches beneath my feet and my skin bakes under triple digit temperatures, it’s easy to escape back to a day over four months ago.

It was the last day of March. There was a definite chill in the air as I set out into the forest. The gray of dawn was made darker by the the canopy of beech and oak towering one hundred feet above my head. I worried for a moment that I may not see them – my elusive botanical quarry. But despite the dim light of the understory, the yellow egg-sized blooms of the Kentucky Lady’s Slipper (Cypripedium kentuckiense) caught my eye like a beacon sent out to some wayfaring sailor, and drew me to them with a siren’s song of its enigmatic beauty.

A few days prior my friend Peter Loos had called and told me that the slippers were out early this year, a full two weeks early. He also told me that one population, which typically has only a plant or two in flower, was displaying six perfect blooms this year. If it weren’t for his call, I would have likely missed out on a very special experience.

The soil was cold and damp as I sat, saturated from a previous day’s rain. It was still to early for photography, the forest too dark to properly render the color of the scene. So I sat and waited in the company of the forest. I admired the slippers and the ferns that grew around them. I listen to the familiar songs of Red-eyed Vireos, Summer Tanagers and Hooded Warblers, and the distant trill of a Northern Parula. After some time I could see hints of dappled sun in the highest leaves in the canopy. The forest grew brighter, its colors warmed. In this new light I could see distant azalea blooms lining the creek downslope.

I had to pay close attention to the light. There would only be a brief moment for me to capture the image I was after. That time when the ambient light early morning sun illuminated the forest, but before its rays penetrated the canopy, casting sun spots and uneven light on the forest floor. Finally the moment was right, and I captured the image above.

Though the end of March may have been the height of the season, spring itself had begun nearly two months prior, when the first of the spring ephemerals pushed their way through the leaf litter. Perhaps my favorite of these is the Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis), so named for the red sap of its roots that has long been used for a wide range of medicinal purposes. Bloodroot is now rare in Texas, where it hold on in a few remnant patches of mature hardwood forest.

Bloodroot – An Ode to Spring

Like the Bloodroot, the White Trout Lily (Erythronium albidum) is one of our first harbingers of spring. White Trout Lily can be found throughout the Pineywoods. Though it is common nowhere, it is more frequently encountered in the northern and western portions of this forested ecoregion. Elsewhere in the state it can be found in some Post Oak Savannah and Cross Timber woodlands.

Trout Lily

It is not just the rich woods that experience a flush in early spring activity. In mid February the wetland pine savannahs of East Texas appear bleak, their grasses turned brown by the short days and biting cold of winter. But it is in that time that the Woolly Sunbonnet (Chaptalia tomentosa) emerges, opening its blooms in the midday sun.

Woolly Sunbonnet

Though the forest floor may be coming to life, early spring still finds the trees leafless and dreary. I captured the haunting scene below as a fog rolled in over the Angelina River on a cold day in mid February.

The Angelina River looks to be a dismal place in early spring.

Even in early March the forest still seems gripped in winter. At least from a distance…

A rare waterfall in one of the last patches of old growth forest in East Texas.

A small stream flows, fueled by spring rains

But closer examination shows that by early March the forest has come alive. The scene below was captured at our friends Susan and Viron’s land. Under their stewardship, a spectacular patch of rich mesic forest has persisted. Here nearly all of the plants that have become exceedingly rare elsewhere in the states, still thrive. Their forest contains colonies of Yellow Trout Lily (Erythronium rostratum) that cover acres!

Yellow Trout Lilies – Ephemeral

Yellow Trout Lilies

Their land is also home to one of only two known populations of False Rue Anemone (Enemion biternatum) in the state.

False Rue Anemone

Spring Beauties (Claytonia virginica) flourish here as well. They are one of our most common spring ephemeral, but that in no way diminishes their beauty.

Spring Beauty

One of the more unexpected denizens of early spring is the Wrinkled Festive Tiger Beetle (Cicindela scutellaris rugata). Unlike most tiger beetles, which are most active during the summer, the Wrinkled Festive Tiger Beetle is active in the early spring, and by late May are almost impossible to find.

Wrinkled Festive Tiger Beetle

This jewel-like beetle is restricted to eastern Texas, western Louisiana, and extreme southwestern Arkansas and southeastern Louisiana. Here it occurs in areas with vast expanses of bare sand such as xeric sandhills and sand “blowouts” in the Pineywoods and Post Oak Savannah.

Wrinkled Festive Tiger Beetle

By mid-March most of the woodlands in the southern Pineywoods had begun to leaf-out. The scene below was captured in a vast floodplain adjacent Big Sandy Creek in the Big Thicket.

Vernal

As the freshly emerging leaves hardwoods begin to turn the slopes and floodplains green, a different explosion of color is occurring in a precious few longleaf pine savannahs in the Big Thicket. At the few sites where it still occurs, the Federally Endangered Texas Trailing Phlox (Phlox nivalis ssp. texensis) reaches peak bloom in mid-March.

Texas Trailing Phlox

Around the same time, a very different phlox species blooms in the shade American Beech and other hardwoods of rich forested slopes. Though common throughout much of its range in eastern North America, Wild Blue Phlox (Phlox divaricata) is rare in Texas. The combination of pale blue blooms, feathery fern fronds and a gnarly old hornbeam created a scene that seemed like something more suited for a Tolkien novel than the Pineywoods.

Mirkwood

While we’re on the topic of phlox, one can’t drive the backroads of the Big Thicket without admiring the recently described Texas endemic Big Thicket Phlox (Phlox pulcherrima), a member of the Phlox pilosa complex.

Big Thicket Phlox

With March in full swing, color was coming to all of the vegetative communities of the Pineywoods. Wright’s Lily (Schoenolirion wrightii), a rare species of glades and barrens came into bloom over deposits of Catahoula Sandstone.

Wright’s Lily

And expansive drifts of Wild Hyacinth (Camassia scilloides) turned the forest floor blue in this woodland in the northern Pineywoods.

Rebirth

One afternoon, as we were exploring the longleaf pine savannahs of the Angelina National Forest, Carolina spotted a splash of yellow in the distance. It turned out to be a small flatwoods pond decorated with the blooms of thousands of Floating Bladderworts (Utricularia radiata). These plants are carnivorous, and I couldn’t help but think that below the surface was something akin to a minefield for the unfortunate aquatic invertebrates that dwell within.

Floating Bladderworts – Minefield

Not all of spring’s palate is painted on the forest floor however, and a multitude of trees and shrubs put on an impressive display as they come into flower. In the picture below White Fringetree (Chionanthus virginicus) flowers in the foreground while Flowering Dogwood (Cornus florida) blooms in the distance.

White Fringetree – Old Man of the Woods

By late March the Mayapples (Podophyllum peltatum) have taken over the forest floor. One of my favorite spring ephemerals, Mayapple is still quite easy to find in certain parts of East Texas, unlike so many other species of rich woods that have become increasingly rare.

Mayapple – Sea of Green

The large umbrella-shaped leaves of Mayapple are actually toxic. Only the ripe fruit is edible. The downy white blooms hang beneath the leaves. Non-blooming plants always sport a single leaf, while those that bloom have two.

Mayapples

Along the bluffs lining the Angelina River, Carolina and I found a large colony of Wild Comfrey (Cynoglossum virginianum). These wildflowers, with their downy basal leaves and tiny sky-blue blooms have become quite uncommon in Texas. They often occur in the company of the Kentucky Lady’s Slipper, and I couldn’t help but wonder of the enigmatic orchid once called these hills home.

Wild Comfrey Hills

Wild Comfrey Blooms

Another uncommon species often found in the presence of the lady’s slipper is the Bigleaf Snowbell (Styrax grandifolia). It’s easy to see how this species gets its common name, as thousands of small white blooms may dangle from its branches in early April.

Bigleaf Snowbell

In the vast floodplain of the Neches River I spotted a large colony of Eastern Bluestar (Amsonia tabernaemontana), and I stood in the flood waters to photograph its delicate blooms in the evening light.

Eastern Bluestar

Every spring I look forward to the emergence of the trilliums. This year I found this large colony of Sabine River Wakerobin (Trillium gracile) in a rich hardwood forest in Sabine County.

Sabine River Wakerobin

By mid-April many of the spring ephemerals have already faded, and a new cast of floral characters appears on the scene. Clasping Milkweed (Asclepias amplexicaulis) emerges from deep sands and displays its bizarre blooms for all the pollinating world to see.

Clasping Milkweed

Deep in the forest a very different milkweed was blooming. By mid April the White (A.K.A Redring) Milkweed was beginning to come into flower.

White Milkweed

The Zigzag Iris (Iris brevicaulis) can be found on the margins of wetlands in the Pineywoods.

Zigzag Iris

Flowering Dogwood is one of the most familiar small trees of East Texas. Lesser known are the other species of dogwood that occur here. This spring we found several Roughleaf Dogwoods (Cornus drummondii) in bloom along a small stream in Houston County.

Roughleaf Dogwood

The Rose Pogonia (A.K.A. Snakemouth Orchid) (Pogonia ophioglossoides) is always a crowd-pleaser. I found several blooming in late April with my friend James Childress in a remote seep on private land.

Rose Pogonia

One evening in April I received a call from my friend, and author of The Wild Orchids of Texas, Joe Liggio. He told me that while returning home from a long day of botanizing, he spotted an uncommon wildflower along a remote road in Liberty County. It was the Foxglove Penstemon (Penstemon digitalis). Shortly after photographing the plants at Joe’s site, I found it growing in similar remoteness in Sabine County. This penstemon has a fairly broad distribution in the eastern third of the state, occurring in scattered populations in rich, open woodlands and their margins. There is some debate as to whether it is native outside northeast Texas, while others question whether or not its native to the state at all. The plants that Joe and I discovered were, in my opinion, unlikely candidates for escapees from cultivation. This leads me to believe that is in fact native to East Texas.

Foxglove Penstemon

Also in April, my friend Scott Wahlberg and I visited a site in the Big Thicket where last year I was able to track down Wild Blue Lupine (Lupinus perennis). I went into some detail on this species in a blog post last year, so I won’t say much here, save to mention it’s striking beauty.

Wild Blue Lupine

Another species that I pursued last year was the Green Adder’s Mouth (Malaxis unifolia). Carolina and I found them again this year, and I photographed them to the sound of the thunder of a rapidly approaching storm.

En-route to photograph the adder’s mouth, we spotted a striking little purple legume flowering alongside the road. It was a patch of Sampson’s Snakeroot (Orbexilum pedunculatum), a plant I only occasionally encounter in the Pineywoods.

Sampson’s Snankeroot

Though it’s pushing the limits of late spring and flirting with early summer, late May still has a lot to offer, botanically speaking. One warm evening in late May, Caro and I drove out to Walker County to photograph the Bush’s Purple Coneflower (Echinacea paradoxa var. neglecta). This puzzling population was found growing in a calcareous prairie remnant by my friend Eric Keith. Echinacea paradoxa is a species of coneflower found in the Ozark Plateau and isolated populations in southern Oklahoma and southeast Texas. While typically yellow, E. paradoxa var. neglecta range from pale purple to deep pink. The population here in southeast Texas is disjunct from other known populations by hundreds of miles.

So it was that the Spring of 2018 came to a close and gave way to summer. It was hard to say goodbye to the cool, gray days of Spring, but as a naturalist I find some joy in each of our seasons. Soon the sun would be blaring, the cicadas would be trilling, and a whole new cast of plants and animals would make themselves known.

April 6, 2017 by mattbuckinghamphotography

Spring in the Hill Country

Giant Spiderwort on a granite outcrop

Three springs ago I was lucky enough to marry the love of my life. Before and since Carolina and I have shared many adventures in the natural world. It seemed fitting that we spend our anniversary in these wild places we love so much, so we decided to take a trip to the Texas Hill Country. It had been years since I spent any time exploring this treasure trove of natural wonders, and Carolina had only previously passed through. We looked forward to a trip full of searching for rocks, gems, wildflowers, and other wild things.

The rugged Texas Hill Country is part of the Edward’s Plateau, an extensive uplift in central Texas comprised of marine deposit that are 100 million years old or more. The region is primarily comprised of limestone, however extensive granite outcrops are present in areas. The variety of substrates harbors an incredible array of plant and animal species, many of which are found nowhere else in the world. Perhaps no other part of the state is as uniquely Texan as the Hill Country. The following blog post is a long one that highlights its natural beauty.

Spring in the Texas Hill Country

We covered a lot of ground during our trip, trying to see as much as we possibly could. Recent rains had swollen the clear streams of the region. While hiking we came across this tributary of the Colorado River, which I suspect is normally fairly tame. We enjoyed a swim in the cool, clear waters below the fall.

A Hill Country Waterfall

The wild’s of the Hill Country are full of beautiful sights, like this gnarled live oak growing from the top of a massive granite boulder.

A gnarled live oak takes hold on a granite outcrop

The Texas Bluebonnet (Lupinus texensis) is certainly the most iconic of all Texas wildflowers. While I can’t deny their beauty, I am usually reluctant to photograph bluebonnets, as they have been so extensively planted that it’s hard to know when one has encountered a truly wild population. I found this large population in a clearing in an open oak/mesquite savannah far from any roads or developed areas, and am fairly certain it is a native population.

Texas Bluebonnets

We were lucky that a number of cacti had begun to bloom during our trip. I posted about the Claret Cup Cactus (Echinocereus coccineus) in my previous blog. I also mentioned the Lace Cactus (Echinocereus reichenbachii). The latter deserves mention again here, as we found many in bloom while we were driving back roads in pursuit of Topaz and Celestite. While we did not find the precious stones, we were rewarded with the brilliant blooms of this spectacular cactus. The largest, most impressive individuals and groups were on private land well behind fences, however we did find several beautiful individuals within camera range.

A Lace Cactus clings to a granite outcrop

Lace Cactus

We also found a few Heyder’s Pincushion Cactuses (Mammillaria heyderi), which I had recently photographed in South Texas.

Heyder’s Pincushion Cactus

Perhaps one of the most spectacular wildflower displays came from the Giant Spiderwort (Tradescantia gigantea) which seemed to thrive on granite and limestone alike.

Giant Spiderwort

We observed a number of Penstemon species. The most common and widespread was the Prairie Penstemon (Penstemon cobaea). It was a treat to see such large, healthy populations of this species, as it is rare in the Pineywoods.

Prairie Penstemon

We even found a few Prairie Penstemons with a striking lavender wash.

Prairie Penstemon

We also found the much less common Guadalupe Penstemon, which is endemic to the Texas Hill Country.

Guadalupe Penstemon

County level distribution for Penstemon guadalupensis from http://www.bonap.org. Yellow counties indicate that the species is present but rare.

The most spectacular of the Penstemons, however, was the Hill Country Penstemon (Penstemon triflorus), another Edward’s Plateau endemic.

Hill Country Penstemon

County-level distribution for Penstemon triflorus from http://www.bonap.org.

The Fringed Bluestar (Amsonia ciliata) was fairly difficult to spot among the grasslands and oak savannahs, despite its bright blue blooms.

Fringed Bluestar

The Green Milkweed Vine (Matelea reticulata) is native to Texas and northeastern Mexico. It is easy to see where it gets one of its alternate common names: The Pearl Milkweed Vine.

Green Milkweed Vine

After spending a couple of nights camping we visited our good friends Scott Wahlberg and Ashley Tubbs in Kerrville. Scott and I are known for our absurd conversations and hypothetical scenarios. We are lucky that we have such tolerant women to put up with our shenanigans. After spending the night at their place, they showed us a beautiful series of canyons that had eroded into the limestone hills. The Endangered Golden-Cheeked Warbler (Setophaga chrysoparia) serenaded us as we explored its domain.

In addition to being rich in endemics, the Texas Hill Country is home to many species typical of the central or Eastern United States that are disjunct from the main portion of their range. These species generally exist in these cool, moist canyons and are relicts of cooler, wetter times. Scott has found Western Slimy Salamanders (Plethodon albagula) here. Luckily I had seen them in the Hill Country before, as we were unable to find any this trip. We did, however, see several Eastern Red Columbine (Aquilegia canadensis) in bloom.

Eastern Red Columbine

We observed several False Day Flowers (Tinantia anomala) in bloom. These bizarre blooms reminded me of some alien creature.

False Day Flower

We also found another uncommon endemic growing in these canyons: The Scarlet Clematis (Clematis texensis).

Scarlet Clematis

County-level distribution for Clematis texensis. Yellow counties indicate that the species is present but rare.

The Texas Madrone (Arbutus xalapensis) is a typical tree of the slopes grading into these canyons. We were lucky to find a few in bloom.

Texas Madrone

With all of the wildflowers in bloom, the pollinators were out in force as well. Perhaps the most beautiful, and definitely the most cooperative were the many Juniper Hairstreaks (Callophrys gryneus) that we observed.

Juniper Hairstreak

As is so often the case for me, as the trip came to an end I was hit with a feeling of sadness. But it’s hard to be too sad when I was returning to the Pineywoods, where so many interesting species were awaiting me.

March 4, 2017 by mattbuckinghamphotography

Cure-All

Target Species: Yellowroot (Xanthorhiza simplicissima)

Yellowroot

I wasn’t sure that I’d be able to check this one off my list. I first learned that Yellowroot occurred in Texas while looking through Geyata Ajilvsgi’s book Wildflowers of the Big Thicket. I then saw it mentioned in a couple of scientific publications and decided to do a little research. There are very few records from Texas, and those that exist are fairly vague as to the species’ location. Looking at the publications I had an idea where to look, but I had no idea if the plant would be common at that location, easy to see, or when it might bloom. I tried my best to guess the bloom time in East Texas based on the species’ phenology in other states.

A couple of weeks ago I caught a break. While attending the Texas Black Bear Alliance meeting I was chatting with a friend that works for a large timber company who happened to be a naturalist and plant enthusiast. He has access to hundreds of thousands of timber company lands and a penchant for exploring wild places. I casually asked him if he has ever seen yellowroot on timber land, and he said that he had, though he hadn’t seen it in bloom. We talked about getting out to look for it, and finally made it happen yesterday.

County-level distribution of Xanthorhiza simplicissima from http://www.bonap.org

Yellowroot is a subshrub that primarily occurs in the southern Appalachians. There is a disjunct population in East Texas and western Louisiana. Here it is very rare, occurring at only a handful of sites. It’s tiny flowers hang on drooping, branched panicles originating from the main stem. It grows on the banks of small streams that wind through sandy, acidic soils.

Yellowroot Panicles

My friend first took us to a site that I have visited before. We were joined by another friend with a love for the outdoors. We found many plants growing along the margins of a clear, spring fed stream just before it poured from a 20-foot waterfall. Seeing it here, one wouldn’t expect it to be so rare in the state. The sandy stream edge was lined with thousands of plants, many of them in full bloom.

East Texas Waterfall. Photographed in July, 2016.

Yellowroot is so-named for it’s bright yellow roots which contain berberine, an alkaloid with numerous medicinal properties. Native Americans and settlers used Yellowroot as a die and as a cure for a variety of ailments. Yellowroot tea was used to treat sores and other issues in the mouth and gums, congestion, allergies, stomach ulcers, upset stomachs, and indigestion. Crushed roots were used in salves that treated sores, cuts, rashes and swelling. Contemporary research has shown that Yellowroot has the potential to lower blood pressure and improve liver health and function. Advocates of homeopathic remedies still utilize Yellowroot tea as a natural cure-all.

Yellowroot Flowers

Perhaps these medicinal properties helped spell doom for Yellowroot populations in East Texas. It is entirely possible that over collection, along with habitat loss contributed to its current scarcity.

The tiny flowers are really striking, though they require some magnification to appreciate. We saw blooms ranging from brown to purple to greenish yellow. We wandered along the creek for a while enjoying the warm spring air and cold, clean water.

Yellowroot Flower detail

After leaving the falls we traveled to another site where we found Xanthorhiza simplicissima growing in great abundance. This site is also home to a slew of other plants that are exceedingly rare in Texas, including Silky Camelia (Stewartia malacodendron) and Common Serviceberry (Amelanchier arborea).

Typical Yellowroot habitat along a clear, springfed stream.

My friend has a great knowledge of East Texas culture, history, and pre-history. He regaled us with stories of Native Americans and recent residents. It was fitting that while in search of a plant so important to native cultures that we would find an artifact alluding to a time long ago before East Texas was colonized by Europeans. We found this arrowhead along one of the streams we were exploring. Not a day goes by that I don’t long to see the East Texas that the native tribes experienced.

Arrowhead

Before going our separate ways, my friend had one final surprise in store for us. He took us to a relict dating even further back, to a time prior to human habitation, and possibly predating the speciation of Homo sapiens. This ancient palm fossil lies on exposed boulder of the Catahoula formation. It was a fine day spent in fine company. I learned a lot, particularly about the history of the region. I look forward to returning soon to find what other treasures this country is hiding.

A Naturalist's Journey

My Quest for Biodiversity

Waterfalls