This nine foot loblolly is about 3 years old, as you can see since John S. Quarterman can reach 8 feet high and it’s a foot higher than that: Continue reading
Category Archives: Plants
Elsie Quarterman Glade Festival
Some of you may remember my aunt, Elsie Quarterman, born in Valdosta,
played basketball for Hahira High School:
At 99 years old she won’t be outwalking everybody like she used to, but she will be there. Road trip to Lebanon, Tennessee? Y’all come!Cedars of Lebanon State Park will host its annual Elsie Quarterman Cedar Glade Wildflower Festival April 30 – May 1. Held in partnership with The Center for Cedar Glade Studies of Middle Tennessee State University, this event will offer visitors an opportunity to learn more about the area through seminars, guided nature walks, exhibits, guest speakers and naturalist displays. All events are free and open to the public.
“We are honored to be hosting this 33rd annual event and excited about the roster of experts on hand during this two-day festival,” said Park Ranger and Naturalist Wayne Ingram. “We have numerous activities and educational opportunities planned for all ages and encourage everyone to join us – rain or shine.”
Dr. Elsie Quarterman was professor Emeritus of Vanderbilt University and pioneered cedar glade research in the early 1950s. Coupled with her extensive research at this site, Dr. Quarterman has been an advocate for natural area protection throughout her distinguished career. Her efforts helped Tennessee in 1971 become one of the first states to pass legislation to protect natural areas in the U.S.
Echinacea tennesseensis, the Tennessee coneflower, thought to be extinct until Elsie rediscovered it: Continue reading
The superb magnolia
“DURING a progress of near seventy miles, through this high forest, there constantly presented to view on one hand or the other, spacious groves of this fine flowering tree [the dogwood], which must, in the spring season, when covered with blosoms present a most pleasing scene; when at the same time a variety of other sweet shrubs display their beauty, adorned in their gay apparel, as the Halesia, Stewartia, Æsculus pavia, Æsc. alba, Æsc. Florid. ramis divaricatis, thyrsis grandis, flosculis expansis incarnatis, Azalea, &c. intangled with garlands of Bignonea crucigera, Big. radicans, Big. sempervirens, Glycine frutescens, Lonicera sempervirens, &c. and at the same time the superb Magnolia grandiflora, standing in front of the dark groves, towering far above the common level.”Picture of John S. Quarterman in front of a magnolia by Gretchen Quarterman, Lowndes County, Georgia, 19 Dec 2006.
—William Bartram, 1773
Dogwoods blooming
Like snow in the sky: Continue reading
Planting and Sprouting in the Garden
Wild azaleas
A sky full of azaleas: Continue reading
Treat’s Rain Lily
You may know these as Easter lilies, or “those lilies that grow in the ditches by the road in the spring.”
It turns out their real name is Treat’s Rain Lily,
and they are a native of south Georgia and north Florida,
plus a bit of Alabama, and don’t grow anywhere else.
We’ve seen them in Georgia counties along the Florida border
as far west as Cairo, but not any farther north.
Here’s
much more about these lilies.
They really like where we burned this spring in the woods:
The red flags mark where we transplanted some longleaf pine seedlings.
Pictures by Gretchen Quarterman, 2-3 April 2010, Lowndes County, Georgia.
Divide and Diminish, or Preserve and Survive?
Olivia Judson writes about
Divide and Diminish:
A different process goes on when an island forms by splintering. Here, the ecosystem is pre-existing: the island is created with a set of residents already in place. But it is now too small to support them all.She’s not talking about prescribed forest burns, which are actually necessary for longleaf pine forest ecology. She’s talking about burns that destroy forests.What happens next is a kind of unraveling, a fraying, a disassembling such that the ecosystem becomes simpler, so as to fit the space that is now available. On those recently-created islands of Indonesia, for example, the smallest islands are home to many fewer species than the largest islands. And, as you’d expect, you don’t find big animals on the smallest islands either.
When we humans burn tracts of forest, or make islands in some similar way, the immediate impacts depend on a suite of factors, including how many islands there are, how big they are, and how close they are together. It also matters what is between them. Fields may be more hospitable to wildlife than roads or water; under some circumstances, life forms may be able to flit from one fragment to another, and the “island” nature of the fragments will be reduced. Perhaps we can use such patterns to shape how we use land, to try and minimize the impact we have.
Perhaps.
The once-mighty longleaf pine ecology that spread from eastern Virginia to east Texas now only exists in tiny islands separated by cities, fields, and roads. Maybe we should preserve the few patches that are left. This isn’t just about plants and animals, you know, it’s also about flood control, food supply, and living conditions.
Half a century ago we overused pesticides, in particular DDT, which caused birds’ eggs to become too fragile. Bald eagles vanished from many places. But sometimes they come back, when we stop poisoning them and instead save some habitat.
The eagle pictured was just sitting beside the road as we drove by. There are more in nearby counties. Picture by Gretchen Quarterman, 23 March 2010.
Seedlings of One Longleaf
Here’s what they look like just after they come up:
It’s a pretty big tree: Continue reading
Red Buds
Pictures by Gretchen Quarterman, Lowndes County, Georgia, 28 February 2010.
Though a country be sundered, hills and rivers endure;
And spring comes green again to trees and grasses
Where petals have been shed like tears
And lonely birds have sung their grief.
…After the war-fires of three months,
One message from home is worth a ton of gold.
…I stroke my white hair. It has grown too thin
To hold the hairpins any more.—A Spring View, Tu Fu (c. 750), trans. Witter Bynner








