Identifying a Ghost Plant

All the plants in the fumitory family look somewhat similar to the common garden plant known as bleeding heart (Dicentra spectabilis), shown above. I think every child in the prairies has observed the heart-shaped pink and white flowers of this spring-blooming species before. I’ve got several in my yard that were probably planted when the house was built in the 1950’s. The leaves of species in this family are divided and almost fern-like in appearance. The flowers have four petals but they are irregularly shaped; that is, they are not all identical to each other, similar to snapdragons or orchids. The two inner petals are a different shape from the two outer petals. The outer petals may be mirror images of each other (e.g. Dutchman’s breeches, climbing fumitory) or dissimilar (corydalis). Although these plants are often lumped in with the poppy family (Papaveraceae), some sources (i.e. Flora of North America) consider them unique enough to be in their own family, the Fumariaceae.

Ecologically the plants in this family are poisonous (so no nibbling). Insects, however, enjoy the nectar found in the petal spurs. To get the nectar, long-tongued pollinators have to pry the outer petals apart, in the process rubbing up against the male (stamens) and female (pistil) parts of the flower, resulting in fertilization. However, some shorter-tongued insects have figured out that they can get the nectar just by nibbling a hole in the petal spur. See if you can find any of these cheat holes in the plants that you observe in nature.

Here’s an identification key to the plants of the fumitory family (Fumariaceae) found in Manitoba. To use this key, select the statement that best describes your plant until you arrive at a species name rather than a number.

While searching for more information, I discovered that this species is not common anywhere it occurs in the wild, in part because it is a biennial. That means its seeds germinate and grow a few leaves the first year, producing flowers and fruits only in the second year. Then it dies, remaining in the soil as a seed until its germination is triggered. But what triggers the germination? The references I found note that fires, windstorms and insect outbreaks that open up the forest canopy are likely triggers. But the soil cannot be severely damaged the way it often is with logging so apparently you don’t tend to see it in clearcuts. Plus, it likes rocky, acidic soils that stay consistently moist in places that are not too windy, and that have some trees or cliffs that it can climb up since it is a vine. In short, it appears to be adapted to thrive in very particular types of environments that don’t occur all that often anymore.

I began to wonder why Lowe found this species in the 1940’s. Since I couldn’t find any records of a large forest fire in the late 1930’s near West Hawk Lake, I thought that perhaps it was construction of the campgrounds and roads during that time that created a suitable opening in the canopy for this species. Decades of fire suppression, which improved greatly after World War II due to the use of aerial water bombers, have likely prevented the creation of the post-fire habitats in this area that the species needs. So even though humans have not changed this habitat by directly destroying it, we have changed it by altering the natural fire cycles that occurred before Europeans arrived. The presence of so many cottagers in the West Hawk and Falcon Lake areas means that any natural fires that do ignite will likely not be allowed to get anywhere near the recreational areas to protect human lives.

After so many years without disturbance, any seeds of climbing fumitory that were in the soil seed bank have likely died, and if that has happened, then this species may indeed be extinct in Manitoba. However, if an insect outbreak or windstorm damage occurs in the right spot, all may not be lost.  One thing I was reminded of during my trip is that the boreal forest is vast and, in many places, completely inaccessible to humans.  Climbing fumitory may still be hiding somewhere in this vast forest, waiting for some intrepid individual to stumble across it again.

We share our world with billions of other organisms and they play a crucial role in our survival, providing the ecosystem services that keep us alive: making oxygen for us to breathe, filtering toxins from our water, and providing shade for us and our homes to name a few benefits. With so many cultural events being cancelled this year due to Covid-19, you may be planning on spending some time in nature this summer. Thus, now is an excellent time to learn to identify some of the beautiful wild plants that grow in our province.

As part of my Museum work, I have been writing an identification guide to all the vascular plants (i.e. ferns, conifers and flowers) in the province. Unfortunately, it is nowhere close to being done. However, in the interim, I can provide some information on how to identify some of the prettiest plants you will encounter in the prairies and forests of Manitoba: the lilies.

There are only five wild lilies that are typically found in sunny, prairie habitats: Wood lily, prairie onion, autumn onion, eastern yellow stargrass and mountain death camas. One of these plants is poisonous. Can you guess which one? The word “death” in the name kind of gives it away, no?

Lily species that grow in sunny habitats have narrow leaves, to reduce their sun exposure. In contrast, the lilies that grow in forested habitats tend to have wider leaves to better capture the dappled light that occurs on the forest floor. Most of the forest lilies have white flowers (sometimes with invisible ultraviolet (UV) patterns that bees can see), because white is more visible in a dark environment like a forest floor. Fairy-bells, Solomon’s-seal and false Solomon’s seal (Maianthemum spp.) are among the most common species in Manitoba. In the southeastern forests you will also find the highly attractive nodding trillium with its leaves in three parts and dangly white flower, and the lovely yellow clintonia.

• Autumn onion – Allium stellatum Fraser ex Ker Gawl.
• Clasping-leaved twisted-stalk – Streptopus amplexifolius (L.) DC.
• Eastern yellow stargrass – Hypoxis hirsuta (L.) Coville
• Giant Solomon’s seal – Polygonatum biflorum (Walt.) Ell.
• Large false Solomon’s seal – Maianthemum racemosum (L.) Link
• Large-flowered bellwort – Uvularia grandiflora Sm.
• Midwestern rose twisted-stalk – Streptopus lanceolatus (Ait.) Reveal
• Mountain death camas – Zigadenus elegans Pursh
• Nodding trillium – Trillium cernuum L.
• Prairie onion – Allium textile A. Nels. & J.F. Macbr.
• Rough-fruited fairybells – Prosartes trachycarpa S. Wats.
• Sessile-leaved bellwort – Uvularia sessilifolia L.
• Small tofieldia – Tofieldia pusilla (Michx.) Pers.
• Star-flowered false Solomon’s seal – Maianthemum stellatum (L.) Link
• Sticky tofieldia – Triantha glutinosa (Michx.) Baker
• Three-leaved false Solomon’s seal – Maianthemum trifolium (L.) Sloboda.
• Wild chives – Allium schoenoprasum L.
• Wild leek – Allium tricoccum Ait.
• Wild lily-of-the-valley – Maianthemum canadense Desf.
• Wood lily – Lilium philadelphicum L.
• Yellow clintonia – Clintonia borealis (Ait.) Raf.

It is pretty well known that plants differ from animals due to their ability to make their own food using just carbon dioxide, water and sunlight through a process called photosynthesis. But some plants are a bit lazy and figured “why should I make my own food like a sucker when I can just steal some from my neighbor?” Thus, the strategy of plant parasitism was born.

The secret to being a plant parasite is to produce modified roots, called haustoria. Rather than collecting water and minerals from the earth like normal roots, haustoria pierce the roots or stems of other plants and tap into their vascular systems. The haustoria suck up the sap from the parasitized plants, obtaining water, minerals and the product of photosynthesis: sugar. The parasitized plants are weakened but not usually killed, unless stressed for other reasons.

The evolutionary journey to parasitism was not always completed; while some species became full parasites (=holo-parasites), such as dodders (Cuscuta spp.) and dwarf-mistletoes (Arceuthobium spp.), others are only partial parasites (=hemi-parasites). Hemi-parasites still produce green leaves and are capable of photosynthesis, unlike the holo-parasites, which no longer perform any photosynthesis at all. Through their haustoria, hemi-parasites obtain mainly water and minerals from the parasitized plants, which means they can grow in habitats where they might normally be at a competitive disadvantage in terms of their ability to obtain enough soil resources.

The Sandalwood family contains the most common parasites in the province: the holo-parasite dwarf-mistletoe, and the hemi-parasites pale comandra (Comandra umbellata) and false toadflax (Geocaulon lividum). Pale comandra typically grows in dry prairies, parasitizing a wide variety of common plants like asters and roses, while false toadflax is found in our northern forests living off of woody plants like bearberry (Arctostaphylos spp.) or asters.

All plants in the Broom-rape family including paintbrushes (Castilleja spp.), owl’s-clover (Orthocarpus luteus), louseworts (Pedicularis spp.), eyebrights (Euphrasia spp.), cow-wheat (Melampyrum lineare), and false foxgloves (Agalinus spp.) are hemi-parasites. Many of the broom-rapes have colourful, fragrant, two-lipped flowers that attract and support many pollinators, typically bees and butterflies. In Manitoba, 15 of the plants in this family are considered rare (ranked as critically imperilled, imperilled or vulnerable by the Manitoba Conservation Data Centre). Gattinger’s agalinis (Agalinis gattingeri) and rough agalinis (A. aspera) are both extremely rare and legally protected under the national Species-at-risk Act, 2002 and the provincial Endangered Species and Ecosystems Act, 2018. The rare and unusual-looking broomrapes (Orobanche spp.) are holo-parasites on wild asters, possessing no leaves, just coppery-coloured stems and large white, yellow or purplish flowers. Many of these rare parasitic plants grow in our endangered native prairies, dependent on the wild plants that grow there, which are themselves increasingly rare due to exotic species encroachment, habitat loss and climate change. Clearly, being a parasite is not as carefree as it sounds.

Now that you know they exist, be on the lookout for these, sometimes lovely, sometimes ugly, groups of free-loading plants.