Plant Portraits 1. Columbines

 With this post, I begin a new series, featuring fanciful AI-assisted illustrations of plants in the context of their natural environments and their historical relationships to human culture. As always, they are intended to be informational, botanically accurate, hopefully entertaining, and free of all advertisement or monetization. However, these portraits may be somewhat speculative  in nature, particularly those with historical or cultural components. They combine elements assembled widely from internet sources, and rendered with modern AI tools. they may also be somewhat idealized in that they display flowers in greater abundance and more perfect condition than usually found, and with animals that are often hard to see in nature. These are imaginary pictures I wish I could see, but they are all intended to provide enlightenment as well as enjoyment. NO REAL PEOPLE APPEAR IN ANY OF THESE IMAGES.

The use of AI is much discussed and debated these days. Is it harmful or beneficial? It is both of course. Every bit of technology, since the first rock picked up by an unnamed hominid ancestor, can be used to help or to harm. The AI genie is out of the bottle, and the lid is lost. It's a tool we can use where it is helpful, though we must try our best to control its darker side. For the plant pictures presented here, the results were irresistibly stunning.

That said, this first post returns to the subject of my very first blog on this site: my favorite flowers, the columbines, of the genus Aquilegia (famiily Ranunculaceae). There are roughly 70 species of this genus, mostly in North America and Eurasia. There has been some limited use of this genus in folk medicine, for such things as treating head lice and cleansing the skin, but toxic cyanogenic glycosides in their tissues dictate very careful dosages, and they are seldom used anymore. Columbine seeds and plants, however. are of multimillion dollar value in the horticultural trade.

Aquilegias are one of the few genera of flowering plants capable of producing pigments in all colors of the rainbow (Think about it. What other genera do you know have that versatility?) Typically, flowers in this genus have a long nectar spur extending from each of the five petals, the length reflecting the feeding organs of the birds, butterflies, hawkmoths or bees that feed in them. You'll see one exception below. 

The western red columbine, Aquilegia formosa, is found widely in the western mountains of North America. It is seen here in the lower left, in the alpine meadow of Paradise, in Mt. Rainier National Park, along with purple lupines, scarlet Indian paintbrush and the seed heads of Anemone occidentalis. Red columbines are pollinated primarily by hummingbirds.

The Colorado blue columbine, Aquilegia coerulea, lights up a meadow near the Grand Teton range in Wyoming. It is pollinated primarily by bumblebees and hawkmoths, but occasionally by hummingbirds.

The rarely seen Aquilegia jonesii is endemic to the northern Rocky Mountains, and occurs in open, rocky habitats at high altitudes. They are pollinated primarily by bumblebees during the short alpine summer.

In this imaginary setting, prehistoric indigenous Hopi children admire the blooms of the western yellow columbine, Aquilegia chrysantha, growing in damp soil by a stream. The Hopi's iconic cliff dwellings are in the back. Western yellow columbines are pollinated primarily by hawkmoths, sometimes in the nighttime, or occasionally by hummngbirds.

A family of the Bai ethnic group of western China, is dressed for a celebration and walking past clumps of pink-flowered Aquilegia ecalcarata, a species lacking the usual nectar spurs on its petals. It is  pollinated by short-tongued insects like syrphid (hover) flies. 

A New England October

Proceeding from north to south, the first frosts 

       

 

 

 

New England is famous for its fall colors. Under some circumstances, though, those colors include brilliant flowers. On a family vacation, I was in the southern part of the region at the beginning of the transition. Garden flowers, including brilliant displays of Dahlias, Chrysanthemums, and others were in their final glory of the season, but a mild frost had already triggered some trees to retire their chlorophyll for the winter, leaving their red and yellow secondary pigments. In the middle of our week there, a harder freeze in the Berkshires convinced most garden flowers to give up the ghost, but a bit further south, in the Hartford area, they persisted. 

I suppose at this time, it was already over in the far north of Maine, Vermont, and New Hampshire, but it  wouldn't be long before the glow of orange and red would sweep through the south, gardeners would dig up the Dahlia tubers, and perhaps plant a new crop of tulip and other spring bulbs.

There are a few late season wild flowers too. Goldenrod and Asters, both members of the Asteraceae are the most abundant Fall wildflowers. In this family, seeds mature rapidly, and so the plants can remain active late in the season.

Below are some scenes from this sojourn.

The New England Aster, 
Symphotrichium novae-angliae.

The common Goldenrod, Artemesia 
nemoralis.

Dahlias were at their peak at the Elizabeth Park
in West Hartford.

 

Chrysanthemums are an emblematic garden
flower in the Fall.

Bright Celosias are in denial about the coming
winter.

Roses will continue to bloom until forced to 
stop by cold weather.

Nasturtiums are trailing annuals, and
going strong in mid-October.

Known as Autumn Crocus, these
Colchicum autumnalis blossoms surprise
us with spring-like blooms.

A tall Cleome plant in West Hartford.

Clematis terniflora covers a wall in Lenox, Mass.

Zinnias are 3-4 feet tall in October.

Starship deep rose Lobelia.

Monkshood, Aconitum, flourishes in
the Fall.

Music Inspired by Flowers

 In my alternate universe as classical music fan, I have completed a blog series about overlooked, underrated, and unranked composers (The Amadeus Principle). What better way to transition to that topic than a look at classical music inspired by flowers!

Roses for sale in a flower market. 
By Jebulon  CC BY-SA 3.0

Perhaps the most celebrated and loved flower of all time is the rose. Cultivated in both Egypt and China, possibly 5000 years ago, it has been valued for both its color and fragrance. The familiar multi-petaled cultivars arose somewhere along the way from wild ancestors that had just five petals. 

Rosa rubiginosa, a wild rose from
Asia; one of the ancestors of
cultivated roses. Photo by 
Stan Shebs,  CC BY-SA 3.0

In Western Europe, numerous composers took inspiration from roses in their music, including:

    

(click on the links to listen)

Robert Schumann, The Rose, The Lily, The Dove, The Sun  (1840) 

Johann Strauss II, "Rosesof the South" (1880) 

Gabriel Fauré, "Les Roses d'Ispahan" (1884)  

Peter Tchaikovsky, ‘Rose’ Adagio (Sleeping Beauty) (1889) 

Richard Strauss: 'The Presentation of the Rose' from Der Rosenkavalier (1910) 

Herbert Howells, A Spotless Rose  (1919)

 

A botanical illustration of the red
field poppy, Papaver rhoeas, by
Franz Eugen Köhler

Another favorite, particularly among Russian composers, is the wild red poppy found throughout Asia:  

Reinhold Gliere, The Red Poppy ballet (1927)

Aleksander Glazunov included cornflowers in his tribute,  Waltz Of The Cornflowers And Poppies, from the ballet, the Seasons(1899)

1.      

Cornflowers, Centaurea cyanus. Photo by
Thayne Tuason CC BY-SA 4.0

The  blossoms of Heather, inspired a work by Debussy:

Heather, Calluna vulgaris. photo by Aqwis, CC BY-SA 3.0

 Claude Debussy, Bruyéres (Heather) (1912–13)

 

A chrysanthemum festival in Taiwan.

Years before he struck gold with his operas, Giacomo Puccini once found himself inspired by Chrysanthemums, the favorite flowers of Fall.

 

Puccini, Crisantemi (Chrysanthemums) (1890)

Amaryllis hybrid, technically in the genus
Hippeastrum

   Giulio Caccini found inspiration in an Amaryllis.

     Caccini, Amarilli Mia Bella (1601)

.      

 

A Dahlia cultivar.
Photo by Kinjal bose 78 CC BY-SA 4.0

Bedrich Smetana took a liking to Dahlias, which are in the same family as Chrysanthemums.

 

 Smetana, Dahlia Polka (1840)1

Jasminum polyanthum from southwestern China.

A popular traditional Chinese folk song celebrates fragrant Jasmine flowers. Puccini adapted it for his opera Turandot. Photo by Helen Online CC BY-SA 3.0

 

      Mo Li Hua (Jasmine Flower); and The Mountainsof the East (Puccini’s adaptation for Turandot, 1926)

 

 

  Rachmaninov – Lilacs (from 12 Romances) (1902)

 

Blossoms of the cotton plant, Gossypium herbacium,
are recognizable as belonging to the Hibiscus Family.
Photo by by H. Zell , CC BY-SA 3.0

Florence Price appeared to be celebrating the flowers of the cotton plant, or was it the opening the mature pods?

Price – Dance of the Cotton Blossoms (1938)

1.    

Edelweiss, Leontopodium nivale

Finally, who can forget Baron von Trapp's tribute to the alpine Edelweiss and his native country of Austria. Is Sound of Music classical music? The difference between classical opera and :Broadway" musicals is not as clear-cut. Both combine stage action and music to tell a story. See my chapter on "The Problem with Opera," for a more extensive discussion.

         Rodgers and Hammerstein, Edelweiss from The Sound Of Music (1959)

Iceland and Greenland

Iceland is nearly treeless, but reforestation with
conifers from other continents has begun.

As a subarctic island, Iceland has a limited flora, though displays of wildflowers can be spectacular
during its short summer. As a way station between North America and Greenland, on one hand, and Europe on the other hand, much of Iceland's flora is circumpolar. 

 Iceland's youth has provided little time for endemic species to arise, in contrast with the nearest continents on both sides of the Atlantic. Iceland was created by a series of volcanic eruptions, beginning some 16-18 million years ago, that continue to today. It sits over a hotspot on the mid-Atlantic ridge, and its volcanic activity has gradually shifted to the southwest. Before we arrived in June of 2024, a new eruption began south of the nation's capital, Reykjavik. It's a similar situation to the volcanic activity in the Hawaiian islands which has shifted to the southeast as its tectonic plate moves over a hotspot. Iceland, in fact, reminded me a lot of the island of Hawaii, albeit a lot colder.

Dandelions provide bright springtime
color in Iceland and are even avoided by
lawnmowers. 

In addition to its volcanic youthfulness, Iceland was also completely covered by glaciers during the recent ice age, leaving a scant 10,000 years to become revegetated. Virtually every plant species in its flora came from somewhere else. Even the handful of species officially listed as endemic are closely related to species from other continents. By contrast, the flora of Greenland, which sits on an ancient shield formation, is quite rich. A brief stop in Greenland after we left Iceland, yielded nearly a dozen species. 

Colonization by Vikings some 1200 years ago and their introduction of both herbivorous and predatory mammals further interrupted the natural evolution of the Icelandic flora. any sort of natural floral evolution. 

Much of the lowlands of Iceland were actually forested, but the Vikings' demand for wood for housing and boat-building resulted in virtually every tree being cut down. So the iconic images of treeless green vistas in Iceland is also an artifact of human interference.

Lupines mingle with dandelions for an early 
wildflower display. 

In mid-June, the beginning of summer in the northern hemisphere, wildflowers were just beginning to bloom in sheltered areas of Iceland. Aside from the ubiquitous dandelion, the most spectacular show was provided by the blue lupine, Lupinus nootkatensis. One of the plants most recently introduced, it has generated some controversy. Deliberately brought in from Alaska in the mid-1940s, the lupine has spread rapidly. As a member of the Legume family, lupine hosts symbiotic nitrogen-fixing bacteria in its roots, and so enriches and stabilizes the depleted soil. Some consider this a blessing, while others call for the eradication of the exotic, invasive plant.  For better or worse, lupines have spread widely in cool climates, including in Patagonia and New Zealand.

Almost like a river of volcanic lava, a wave of blue lupine spreads across an otherwise barren Icelandic landscape.

Aside from that, a handful of plant species were beginning to bloom as the summer solstice approached. The few that I was able to capture are posted below. Enjoy. 

A lone Iceland poppy, Papaver nudicaulis,
makes an early appearance. Despite its name,
 it too is a widespread subarctic species,
not truly an endemic.

Cardamine pratense blooms in a 
sheltered location. 

A horsetail, possibly Equisetum pratense,
grows among rocks.

Buttercups (Ranunculus sp) are
abundant in Iceland and Greenland

Cinquefoil, Potentilla crantzii, in the Rose family, is a
 buttercup lookalike.

A wild pansy, Viola tricolor, survives on
a rocky mountain slope.

Saxifraga oppositifolia forms a low-growing
mat in exposed places.

Saxifraga has been featured on an
Iceland postage stamp.

The town of Paamiut, sits on the rocky west coast of 
Greenland. 

In Paamuiut, Greenland, Draba subcapitata
(lower) and Saxifraga caespitosa 
grow together. 

 

Viola tricolor in Greenland

In Greenland another arctic poppy,
Papaver radicatum is common.

Cerastium alpinum grows from a crack in the rocks.