Rare Plants and Roadside Beauties

 For being just an amateur wildflower nut,  I feel I am one lucky nerd. In all my naive wanderings over the years, I have just by chance found so many rare plants that I've gained some genuine botanical experts as my friends.  And I am so grateful that they share some pretty exciting wildflower findings with me.  Not so long ago, I was told by one of my professional botanist friends that one really, really rare Shadblow species was about to bloom, and he even showed me exactly where to find it.  So of course, I went to look for it.  (Sorry, but the location remains a secret.)

At first, I thought I must be in the wrong place.  The shrub in question  -- called Nantucket Shadblow (Amelanchier nantucketensis) -- did not bear the bright-white flowers I associate with all other Shadblow species.  From a distance, it looked as if it might have already shed its blooms. Or have yet to open them.

But a closer look revealed that the shrub was indeed in bloom. The flowers were not exactly showy, with tiny spoon-shaped petals that were widely spaced around the sharply pointed green calyx lobes.  I was told that a very interesting feature of this species' petals is that the petals themselves occasionally bear pollen, a feature I myself could not detect.

Here's a different view of the flower. Perhaps that yellowish rim on some of the petals consists of pollen. As this photo reveals, this is certainly a very woolly species!

And the leaves are just as woolly as the calyx lobes.

From what I have read, the Nantucket Shadblow is a globally rare species, long thought to be found only in the Northeast Atlantic coastal areas from Virginia to Nova Scotia. But subsequent populations have been found in drier, more inland locations.  And the location where this patch is growing in northern New York State is far, far away from the coast!

That Nantucket Shadblow was not the only super-rare flower I visited this day.  In fact, not very far from the shadblow's site was a large marble outcropping studded with one of New York State's rarest flowers, the New England Violet (Viola novae-angliae), known to grow in only one very limited location in all the state. To judge from how these deep-purple flowers sprout up from cracks in the rock that are completely exposed to the elements, being rare doesn't necessarily mean fragile.

This little cluster of flowers and leaves reveals several of the New England Violet's distinguishing features. The most notable one is the long, narrow, tapering shape of the leaves, which are basal, not stem leaves.  The vivid purple flowers are noticeably hairy, and not just in the throat, but also with occasional hairs sprouting from the petals themselves. (Click this photo to enlarge it, and the hairs will be more evident.)

The stems of both leaves and flowers are also remarkably hairy, as this photo reveals.

Once I had feasted my eyes on these beautiful violets, I looked around this rocky site and found many other interesting plants.  In just a day or so, this cascading cluster of Eastern Red Columbine leaves  (Aqualegia canadensis) will feature gorgeous scarlet flowers dangling from the stems.

Sheltering beneath an overhanging rock ledge was this lovely cluster of dainty ferns. I believe they are Fragile Fern (Cystopteris fragilis), a species of fern known to grow directly from rocks.

Here was another rock-lover, Early Saxifrage (Micranthes virginiensis), remarkable for growing all by itself at this site, instead of in a spreading mass, and for sheltering beneath an overhanging rock instead of atop it.

Sated at last by observing those rare species to my heart's content, I found my way back to where I had parked my car along the road. As I ambled, I enjoyed the sheer beauty of the more commonly found native wildflowers that spread across the roadside banks.  Here, masses of bright-yellow Barren Strawberry flowers (Waldsteinia fragarioides) share the top of a rise with a scattering of tiny baby-blue Azure Bluets (Houstonia caerulea).

Here's a closer look at those pretty Barren Strawberry flowers . . .

. . . and the sweet little Azure Bluets, holding their dainty faces toward the sky, as if to reflect that azure radiance,

More violets!  Masses of them!  The pale-purple Dog Violet (Viola labradorica) is indeed a generous spreader, and who would resent such pretty flowers from taking up all the space they want along a dusty roadside?

The Dog Violet shares its flower stems with its leaves, and each leaf node is wrapped in a sharply toothed stipule.  I look for those sharp teeth to remind me of this small native violet's name: sharp teeth = canines = dog!  The older I get, the more I need such mnemonics!

It's easy to remember this frothy flower's name:  Foamflower (Tiarella stolonifera).

So, what is there about this Two-leaved Toothwort (Cardamine diphylla) to help me remember its name?  Both the vernacular and the scientific names remind me it has two three-parted leaves, but I wonder where the "tooth" part came from.  A quick Google query brought me this:  "Toothwort gets its name from the tooth-like projections that grow on the underground stems and rhizomes of the plant. These projections are actually leaf scars from the previous season's growth. The common name also refers to the shape of the roots, which are long, white, and pointy."  Well, that may be so, but I'm not going to dig up such a pretty flower to examine its long, white, and pointy roots. Maybe I'll just notice its toothed leaves.

Can we call this grassy plant a wildflower? Yes, we can -- in Latin, anyway. In fact, that way we can call it MULTIflowered! For this pretty plant is the Luzula multiflora, and it does bear clusters of multiple flowers . It is also known more mundanely as Common Woodrush.  But I like to look at its six-parted flowers bearing stamens and pistils and be reminded of lilies. This was just one of the many beauties that delighted me today, from the rarest to the most common!