Broadway’s Supporting Cast

Goldenmane tickseed (Coreopsis basalis) ~ a star at the Broadway cemeteries

Each spring, some of Galveston Island’s seven Broadway cemeteries — those  allowed to remain unmowed — burst into bloom, covering their grounds with a carpet of yellow. Primarily coreopsis and Indian blanket, interspersed with white lazy daisies, it’s a sight designed to draw visitors to the spot.

For several years I’ve made it a point to visit Broadway at the height of the flowering, enjoying the color and exploring the histories behind the stones in posts like Cemetery Season.

This year, familiarity seemed to have bred indifference. Even breathless media reports of an especially good year couldn’t entice me into a visit. Then, a friend who’d never been to any of my usual haunts wanted to visit them, so we took a day to follow my path from Galveston to the Brazoria Refuge and home.

Our first stop was the Broadway cemeteries. On May 7, somewhat later in the season than I’d visited in the past, grasses had grown up amid the flowers and some species I’d never before seen were present. Clearly, the time had come for a more extended visit, with a focus on Broadway’s supporting cast rather than on the flowers that always are the stars of the show.


A first surprise was the number of spiderworts still in bloom. Accustomed to thinking of them as an early spring wildflower, it was a pleasure to see the purple and gold combination spread throughout one of the cemeteries.

Spiderwort ~ Tradescantia spp.

A diminuitive bit of pink was everywhere. The genus is familiar — the beautiful east Texas scarlet catchfly (Silene subciliata) blooms in fall — but unlike that flower, the common catchfly isn’t native; it probably was imported as a contaminant in crop seed.

Common catchfly ~ Silene galica

Despite being a native plant, scarlet spiderling has an interesting distribution across the state. Listed only for Galveston County in southeast Texas, this member of the four o’clock family (the Nyctaginaceae) ranges throughout central and far south counties as well. It may well have escaped notice in other coastal counties; the flower cluster is so tiny it was impossible for me to get a sharp image of the pea-sized bloom.

I did better with the sharpshooter (Paraulacizes spp.) feeding on the flower. Leafhoppers in the family Cicadellidae, sharpshooters use their piercing-and-sucking mouthparts to tap into and feed upon plant tissue. It’s possible this larva was the fourth instar of Paraulacizes irrorata, but that’s only a best guess.

Sharpshooter larva on scarlet spiderling ~ Boerhavia coccinea 

 Cutleaf evening primroses are another form of Broadway yellow, but as they fade, they often present interesting combinations of yellow-trimmed salmon and a pretty pinwheel shape. Winecups also will take on a pinwheel shape.

Cutleaf evening primrose ~ Oenothera laciniataWinecup ~ Callirhoe involucrata

Despite its name, you’re not likely to find a frog noshing on Texas frogfruit. It seems the flower was called fogfruit in the middle ages, when farmers gave the name to low growing plants that invaded their freshly hayed fields. Over time, the name transitioned from ‘fog’ to ‘frog.’ Why it’s sometimes called turkey tangle fogfruit I can’t say, unless wild turkeys sometimes get their feet tangled in the densely matted plants.

A member of the verbena family, frogfruit attracts butterflies to its nectar, and serves as a host plant for Phaon Crescent, White Peacock, and Common Buckeye butterflies. Its ability to tolerate both drought and flooding makes it a useful groundcover, although some gardening sites caution it should only be mowed after blooming, since it can take years for it to recover from too-early mowing. Clearly, the no-mow policy in the cemeteries has allowed it to thrive.

Texas frogfruit  ~ Phyla nodiflora

Growing grasses sometimes become impediments to spring floral photography, but this year I found the grasses themselves immensely attractive.

Rescuegrass ~ Bromus catharticus
Long-spike tridens  ~ Bidens strictus

Less colorful and less obvious than the silverleaf nightshade now in full bloom across the state, Texas nightshade is no less attractive. Found only in Texas and occasionally in Oklahoma, its red fruits help to distinguish it from the non-native Solanum nigrum, which produces black fruits.

Texas Nightshade ~ Solanum triquetrum

My favorite discovery of the day was the tiny-flowered, vining Gulf Indian breadroot, sometimes called brown-flowered psoralea. Members of the pea family, plants in the genus produce starchy, edible roots: some larger and more worth pursuing than others.

The so-called prairie turnip (Pediomelum esculentum), found in Oklahoma and northward through the plains states, has been described variously as a “delicacy,” “tolerably good eating,” or “tasteless and insipid.” Barry Kaye and D. W. Moodie have described Native Americans’ use of the food:

They eat it uncooked, or they boil it, or roast it in the embers, or dry it and crush it to powder and make soup of it. Large quantities are stored in buffalo skin bags for winter use. A sort of pudding made of the flour of the dried roots and serviceberries (Amelanchier alnifolia), after boiling together, is very palatable and a favorite dish.”

However tasty the roots, I must say that I found the appearance of this member of the Broadway cemeteries’ supporting cast delicious.

Gulf Indian breadroot ~ Pediomelum rhombifoilum

 

Comments always are welcome.

These Sweet Bluebonnet Springs

 

At the height of Texas’s bluebonnet season, ‘going to see the flowers’ is a state-wide ritual. While certain towns and counties are known for spectacular displays that cover acres — if not miles — of land, one of my favorite routes is along the highway known as Alternate 90.

Between Altair and Hallettsville, and both north and south of small towns like Rock Island, Sheridan, and Sublime, the displays may be less extravagant, but people are fewer and wandering is easier.

Along this stretch of Alt90, few bluebonnets line the road. Instead, they’ve emerged in glorious profusion around homes and outbuildings, in pastures, and next to stock tanks and ponds. Because cattle and deer don’t eat them, they’re free to flourish in these settings: blooming, setting seed, and fading as they have for millenia.

All of these photos were taken in this relatively small area on quiet mornings in early March. I’ve become deeply attached to both Texas and her bluebonnets; since Nanci Griffith’s “Gulf Coast Highway,” as performed by Emmylou and Willie, best expresses my feelings about them, I’ll share the song, and a few photos from Colorado and Lavaca counties. I wish I could take you with me to see them.

 

Comments always are welcome.

A Foggy Day in Goliad Town

White prickly poppy ~ Argemone albiflora

During the first weekend in March, my swing through wildflower country had been bedeviled by clouds and early morning fog. Still, with places to go and a tight schedule, on Sunday morning I set out from Port Lavaca to Goliad despite my dislike for driving in dense fog.

It wasn’t a pleasant trip, but when I reached Goliad things had improved a bit, and it occurred to me that I might have a chance to photograph wildflowers in fog. Deciding to stop at the historic Presidio, I little imagined that my first ‘find’ of the day would be my beloved white prickly poppies.

Taken in dim light, most of those first photos weren’t especially appealing. Nevertheless, as the fog continued to lift and my experimentation with settings began to pay off, I began to think of my fog-bound drive in a new way. After all, it had given me a chance to see my favorite flower in a new way.

 

Comments always are welcome.

Painting the Ditches Red

Indian Paintbrush ~ Castilleja indivisa

In Texas, nothing says ‘spring’ like the appearance of our most common Indian paintbrush. In time, its flowers will overspread the state, combining with bluebonnets to create a riotous display of color. Today, scattered orange and red patches along various Brazoria County roadsides were enough to evoke smiles; appearing a bit later than usual, the flowers seemed to be making up for lost time.

The plants’ vibrant color comes not from petals, but from bracts surrounding their flowers; the small, greenish-yellow flowers can be seen peeking out from the bracts in the first two photos.

Castilleja species are hemiparasitic. While they develop ordinary roots of their own, once those roots touch the roots of other plants — primarily grasses, but also bluebonnets — they penetrate those roots to obtain a portion of their nutrients. The flowers I found today seemed very well fed; both their color and their number hint at a very good season ahead, and a lot of smiles.

View of the flowers and bracts from above
A more delicately-colored paintbrush

 

Comments always are welcome.

Mornings with Monarda

Spotted beebalm with phlox ~ Medina County

Named in honor of 16th century Spanish physician, botanist, and pharmacologist Nicolas Bautista Monardes (1493-1588), native Monarda species are widespread across Texas.

Monardes himself never traveled to the New World, but Spanish captains engaged in trade with the Americas knew of his interest in plants, and kept him well-supplied with new species. Monardes established a museum in Seville to house his growing collection — the first such museum in Western Europe — and brought the plants’ therapeutic values to the attention of his colleagues.

Drought tolerant, clump-forming members of the Lamiaceae, or mint family, Monarda species thrive in sunny areas with dry soil. During a visit to the Texas hill country on May 7-9, I found colonies of both Spotted Beebalm (Monarda punctata) and Lemon Horsemint (M. citriodora) giving clear notice that late spring is turning into summer.

Spotted beebalm ~ Medina County
Lemon horsemint ~ Wilson County
Lemon horsemint with firewheels  ~ Gonzales County

 

Comments always are welcome.