The Exhibit Collaboration

Ask anyone if they can name a type of Ukrainian food and they will immediately answer perogies. Italian food is clearly spaghetti and meatballs while spicy, peanut-based curries are classic Thai fare. But ask someone to name a Canadian or American dish and most people will either draw a blank or perhaps mutter something about hamburgers and hot dogs (which are actually German) or pizza (which is Italian). It is unfortunate that so many of us forget that a traditional Thanksgiving dinner features some of the many foods that are native to the Americas.

First of all what do I mean by a traditional Thanksgiving dinner? I tend to think of roast turkey, cranberry sauce, wild rice and chestnut stuffing, cornbread, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, baked squash and, for dessert, pumpkin, blueberry, maple sugar, and/or pecan pie. What is unknown to many people is that the main ingredient in each of these foods is native to the Americas.

Turkeys were found wild all over North America. Cranberries and blueberries are low shrubs that grow in the boreal forests of Canada and the southern United States; they are now raised commercially. Wild rice is grown and harvested by First Nations in the wetlands of northeastern Canada. Pecan, maple, and American chestnut trees dominated the eastern deciduous forests in Canada and the United States. Although pecan and maple trees are still common, the American chestnut is almost extinct, the victim of a disease (i.e. Chestnut blight) accidentally brought to the Americas from Asia. Corn and squashes (including pumpkins) were originally bred by the indigenous peoples of Mexico and Central America, while potatoes were a staple of the Peruvian Inca.

An examination of the history of agriculture and world cuisine reminds us that culture, far from being static, is constantly in flux. So the next time you encounter a foreigner who asks about Canadian culture mention the significance of the Thanksgiving dinner and all of the cultures whose world cuisines were forever changed by the plants of this continent and the First Nations who began cultivating them. Happy Thanksgiving!

I was out on Victoria Beach after Labour Day looking for more bugseeds and it was like a scene from an Alfred Hitchcock movie or episode of that documentary “Life After People”.

When I visited Victoria Beach before it was full of families and buff teenagers laying on brightly coloured towels or cavorting happily in the water. Now the only signs of any human presence at all were the occasional empty pop cans, discarded sandals, and cast off fluorescent pool noodles. It was like humanity had vanished off the face of the earth and I was destined to live out my final days as the last member of our species. The gulls were sitting quietly on the rocks by the shore, masters of all they surveyed. They looked rather smug, presumably with satisfaction that the human squatters were finally gone, leaving them in peace once more. Or perhaps I was just imagining it.

Later in the week while out at an equally deserted Grand Beach I was puzzled to find an odd animal track in the sand that I had never seen before: tiny little footprints and a pronounced tail mark. The tracks looked fresh so I figured that if I just did a bit more investigating I’d find the culprit. I was eventually overjoyed to find a tiny baby snapping turtle, only about 8 cm long from head to tail tip. He/she was probably only a few weeks old and heading to the lake to find a nice muddy spot to bury him/herself in for the winter. I’m sure that the journey from the marsh to the lake was easier without hundreds of sunbathers to crawl around or harass it.

The absence of people made my task a lot easier as well as I could hike through the dunes without being fearful of barging in on any scantily clad young couples hoping for a few moments of privacy. I set out early in the morning to hike along shore and see if I could find some bugseeds in the sand dunes. Fortunately, it didn’t take long. I had just reached the beach and was bending over to tie my shoe when voila there it was on the eroding bank right next to the stairway. If only all my field work could be that easy! Anyway I spent the rest of the day walking along the beach to determine how widespread the species was. So this trip resulted in the rediscovery of two populations of bugseeds in the area and two new records of bugseeds at Traverse Bay and Grand Beach. Now it’s back to the laboratory to prepare my plant collection for processing and try to make some sense out of my field notes.

I’m sure the birds were happy to see me go.

For the last several weeks I’ve been climbing over sand dunes, hiking over hills and sauntering along beaches in pursuit of bugseeds. What are bugseeds you may wonder? They are a group of annual plants that grow in sandy habitats. Up until fairly recently, they were thought to be weeds introduced to North America from Europe. Recent research revealed that they are in fact native to the Americas. After studying herbarium specimens from all over Canada, I realized that some of the species may be rare. Since most specimens of bugseed were collected 40 to 100 years ago, I decided to try to relocate the old populations to determine if the populations had disappeared or were still present.

My first few days of field work were spent north of Glenboro in Spruce Woods Provincial Park and Canadian Forces Base Shilo. American bugseed was locally common at Shilo due to it’s tolerance and even preference for, areas with some disturbance. I found it on sandy roads, cutaways into sandy hills, bladed trails, and old sand pits as well as on sand dunes and natural blowouts. Hooker’s bugseed, on the other hand, was found in only one spot in the whole province: firm wind-swept dune blowouts in Spruce Woods Provincial Park. Hairy bugseed was also found on natural dune blowouts in the park and at Shilo. At several sites, particularly along railroads, the bugseeds appear to have been extirpated, their likely habitat taken over by exotic weeds like Russian thistle and Lamb’s quarters.

One of the things I love about doing field work is the opportunity to see interesting plants and animals while I’m searching for rare plants. I saw a tiny little chipmunk on a fallen spruce tree, very kindly posing for the camera for me. In a little bluff of trees I was thrilled to finally encounter a specimen of Branched Hericium (Hericium ramosum) growing on a rotting log. I’ve been looking for that species for years. I was also astounded to find the largest pincushion cactus (Coryphantha vivipara) that I’ve ever seen (about 25 cm high and 60 cm in diameter). So despite the windy weather that whipped sand in my face and made me feel like I could become airborne, it was an interesting and successful week.