Plant hunting in winter

winter is not usually thought of as the most exciting or productive time for looking at plants, at least in the temperate northern hemisphere. After all the lack of sunlight and the cold cause everything to be dormant until spring, the sun and life returns, resulting in a burst of energy, colours and growth. Actually not quite. Although there is no denying that the early and late spring are much more productive in terms of colours and species, and many of the so called “rare” plants are early flowering in this part of the world and therefore best looked for during that time, I have a particular fascination with the combination of winter and plant collecting. Why is that….

first of all I don’t actually collect plants in the usual sense of the word; I look at them and maybe try to photograph them and that is about it. Secondly I actually don’t care much for “rare species” per se. I may enjoy them if they have particular features, but not because they are rare and I managed to spot one. The world of botanists is made up of two general types: botanical “twitchers”, who hunt for species to tick them off on their checklists, much as birders do, and, let’s call them the ecosystem guys and girls, the group in which I firmly place myself, as a guy that is.

when it comes to rare species, although we actually and secretly may enjoy finding and identifying one, we are highly ambivalent. As a friend of mine, a highly respected botanist here in BC and Canada, puts it succinctly: “rare species soak up 90% of the research money and contribute sweet f*** all to the ecosystem”, which probably goes a long way towards explaining the love-hate relationship we have with rare species better than anything else. Of course they are part of the global biodiversity, that other sacred cow, and I will come back to that sometime in the future, but as a group the only thing they provide is entertainment, enjoyment, “lift our spirits and nurture our souls”, as Hilary Benn, UK Environment Secretary puts it in a recent article for the BBC Green Room. Spotting Elvis in the chip shop (thanks Kirstie!)…..

so what is it I enjoy about plant collecting in the winter. I should point out that where I live, the Sunshine Coast in BC, winter, although wet, is generally not that cold and, compared to the rest of Canada, snow is a relatively speaking rare and short-lived event here. If I was living on the prairies I don’t think I’d suggest going out on a foray at -40C, ploughing through a metre or so of snow, although that too may be worthwhile; I don’t know. Never done it.

three major reasons. First of all I get to see things that are still about and active in some form or other. Such as the abundant berries of Kinnikinnick (Arctostaphylos uva-ursi or Bear Berry), but also the berries of the otherwise alien, invasive and much maligned (rightly so here in many but not all respects) species Spurge Laurel (Daphne laureola) and English Ivy (Hedera helix) which sustain much of our winter bird and wildlife.

secondly it is easy. Most of the distracting, view- and passage-blocking vegetation was shed in the fall. Has been processed and rotted away and won’t be back until the late spring or summer so it is easy to see both what is still there as well as to walk through and get closer or into normally inaccessible areas. Try and walk through salmonberry (Rubus spectabilis, my absolute favourite fruit by the way…) in the summer and compare that to now: dead wood snapping off without effort as I walk along, almost clearing a path all by itself for me.

and finally but most importantly for me lichen. Strictly speaking lichen is not a plant. However I am a great fan of that simple “animal, vegetable, mineral” division so I will stick to that. And I am in quite reasonable company here as fungi, algae and lichen traditionally have been and are studied by botanists in botany departments, even though they might call themselves mycologists (fungi), phycologists (algae) or lichenologists nowadays.

in its simplest form, lichen then is a fungus combined with an alga, living together and totally dependent on each other. Interestingly, if you were to grow them separately, neither looks anything like the combined lichen form. So that must have something to do with the environment they live in or on: you wouldn’t expect an alga or a fungus to grow for instance on a bare sun-exposed rock, an environment which is far too dry for either of them singly. However combined they are extremely resistant to drying out and can survive long periods without water. That water and their nutrients are largely obtained directly from atmospheric dust and rain. Each captures that rain and dust, but the fungal body, being very much larger, is better at catching and storing this. In addition in some cases the fungus can also extract mineral nutrients from the surface it grows on. The alga, as it is photosynthetic, captures atmospheric CO2 and provides the carbon to the fungus in this relationship. I suggested earlier on that lichen is a fungus combined with an alga, which is true in many cases, but can also be three, four, five or more partner species, including cyanobacteria, strange creatures which pretend to be algae but aren't. If the latter is present, its main job is to fix the one remaining required nutrient, nitrogen, from the atmosphere.

I referred earlier to the fact that lichen are extremely resistant to desiccation (drying out). Although that is handy in a very dry environment, there may be a little bit more to that, at least for some species. When, after a dry period, the lichen becomes rehydrated, the various membranes separating and joining the two (or three or more)need to be reconstituted. This takes at least a few minutes and during this time a “soup” of accumulated metabolites (digestive and waste products) from each of the partners leaks into the spaces in between the cells where it is available to (products of one, beneficial or even essential to the other), or can be expelled in the case of “useless” waste, by both. Therefore it appears to be essential, at least for some species, that desiccation occurs from time to time. Whether that is associated with a growth spurt is difficult to tell; lichen grow extremely slowly, mm per year, if at all, so at this stage that would be mere speculation.

winter is without a doubt the best time to have a closer look at them as they are easier to spot and get close to. And if you think of lichen as crunchy, dry things you are in for a surprise. Not so much the lichen growing singly or in large carpets on bare rock or in moss beds; they are more or less available at any time. No, the ones that are normally hidden under spring and summer vegetation, especially some of the “leafy” lichens, are highly visible and accessible at this time of year and, generally, not dried out but in their full glory. In fact, ironically, this is probably the time of year that they receive most light, rather than in the summer, when they are substantially hidden under dense foliage, and replete their carbon storage and growth potential.

a short walk in or near the woods at this time of the year and you should see more than any other time. And get some fresh air and exercise which is not a bad idea anyway…