After my Atlanta, Georgia photography buddies (Alan and Steve) left for home a couple of days ago, they swung by an area in the extreme northeast section of Georgia, in the 750,000 acre (303,000 hectare) Chattahoochee National Forest, to check out what might be blooming. When Alan called me and told me all of the different species of wildflowers they saw, I just had to make the trip, myself. So, early Tuesday morning, I set out to an area I had not visited for more than 15 years. I had almost forgotten about the rich diversity of plant life that this area holds.
The trip took about an hour of driving on good, paved roads until I reached the gravel-road turnoff on which I would be spending the next 5 or 6 hours. The first few miles were nicely graded, and there was enough room to pull over in the case that I met another vehicle. That soon changed. For the most part, it was in good shape, but we had had a lot of rain the past few days, and portions of it were filled with potholes and erosion gullies. But, I took my time, rolled down the windows so I could see the roadside better, and stopped when I saw something that interested me — which was every hundred yards/meters, it seemed. This was a mountain road with many hairpin turns and very little straight-of-way. At every turn in the road, there seemed to be a rocky stream or wet cliff seep, providing interesting habitats for native plants.
Soon, I began seeing Trillium catesbaei or Catesby’s Trillium in a puzzling variety of colors and shapes. Here is one of the best of the bunch:
I’ve featured this Trillium species several times this year, but I don’t believe I have mentioned the person associated with its name — Mark Catesby. According to a Wikipedia article, “Mark Catesby (24 March, 1682 or 1683 – 23 December, 1749) was an English naturalist. Between 1729 and 1747, Catesby published his Natural History of Carolina, Florida and the Bahama Islands, the first published account of the flora and fauna of North America. It included 220 plates of birds, reptiles and amphibians, fish, insects, and mammals, as well as plants.” You can read more about him here.
The article goes on to mention that he received plant specimen shipments from another naturalist, John Bartram (March 23, 1699 – September 22, 1777), who spent a great deal of time in the eastern United States, gathering many plants that were new to science. The route that his son, William Bartram (April 20, 1739 – July 22, 1823) took exploring the Carolinas and Georgia is called The Bartram Trail, and is only a stone’s throw from where I took these Trillium images. The Bartram Trail follows the approximate route of Bartram’s southern journey from March, 1773 to January, 1777. That’s quite a while to spend in what was, at that time, wilderness:

I believe Trillium catesbaei was first described in 1817 by South Carolina naturalist, Stephen Elliott, from plant material gathered in South Carolina. Please correct me if I am wrong. There are several Trillium experts who frequent this blog, and you know who you are. The account was published in 1817 in “A Sketch of the Botany of South-Carolina and Georgia”, published in Charleston, South Carolina.
Interestingly, one of Catesby’s Trillium’s other common names (plants often have several common names) is Bashful Wakerobin, because of the way its flowers nod down below the leaves. This characteristic is important, as you will see farther down in this post. I could go on and on, but I digress…
Back to the story: Looking a short distance away, I found another one, this time almost pure white:

All along this mountain road, I found many examples of Catesby’s Trillium which show the highly variable nature of its color and flower form. Here are a few examples showing this variability:
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Note that in each case, the flowers hang well below the leaves.
Here is an image of the area I took from an overlook of Sky Valley, a small town in northeast Georgia near the area I visited. It shows the beautifully rugged country side:

As I mentioned, my drive through the mountains took me through some really neat habitats. One especially interesting one was a wet, cliff face. On this cliff face, I found a number of mosses and other plants that like to have “wet feet”. Here is one that prefers this habitat over all others, Thalictrum clavatum or Mountain meadow-rue. The flowers are quite small, but they show up well against the wet, dark rock of the cliff face:
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I was surprised and also pleased to find three other white wildflower species in bloom near the cliff face. The first of these is Leucothoe fontanesiana or Mountain Doghobble. It is commonly found in wet places, and it gets its common name from the rambling, almost vine-like stems of the plant. It not only hobbles dogs but people. as well. Don’t even think of trying to run through a large maze of these plants without falling into the mud:

The second of these white flowering plants is Chamaelirium luteum, curiously called Devil’s Bit or Fairy Wand. Its strangely curved flower stem always attracts attention whenever it is in bloom:


The third white-flowered plant is Maianthemum racemosum or False Solomon’s Seal. It’s called False Solomon’s Seal because the true Solomon’s Seal has similar leaves, but instead of having a terminal raceme of tiny flowers, the flowers are larger, and they dangle below each leaf joint of the stem:
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Another denizen of wet places is Tiarella cordifolia or Hearleaf Foamflower. I’ve recently featured this wildflower, but this time I will also show the leaves:
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These plants were found in almost all of the natural seeps along the road. Here is a shot of a group of them growing on top of a rotting, moss-covered log:

Before the road began to gain serious elevation, I found one more plant that is common is damp areas, and that is Clintonia umbellulata or Speckled Wood Lily. The flowers appear to be pure white from a distance, but up close, the streaks and speckles begin to show up:
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Finally, I came across a stretch of road with a steep road cut beside it. The almost vertical road cut was virtually covered by tiny (1-inch or 2.5-cm), ground-loving purple flowers called Polygala paucifolia or Gaywings. This is a delicate flower, and the heavy, relentless rains the night before had all but trashed them. I did manage to find a few that had survived but were still covered with rain drops:



At one roadside seep, I found the huge, Trillium vaseyi or Vasey’s Trillium. This is a nodding Trillium with dark, velvety red/maroon flowers up to 3 inches (7.5 cm) and leaves up to 12 inches (30 cm) or more across. This is a truly spectacular plant. But most people wouldn’t notice this wildflower, because the flowers hang well below the leaves, so all that is seen is the top of the leaves. Some of the plants were growing on a hillside, so photographing them was not as much a problem as photographing ones on flat ground. In that instance, I had to tilt the plant over and prop it up with a twig while I was photographing it. Here are some images of the Vasey’s Trillium I found at that roadside seep:
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As the road gained altitude, the terrain began to dry out a bit and hosted different road-side plants. One of these is the strange-looking, Gillenia trifoliata or Indian physic, also known as Bowman’s Root, and American Ipecac.
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I finally made it to the end of the trail where Alan said he and Steve had found another (you guessed it!) Trillium. This one has the flower shape and leaf characteristics of Trillium catesbaei, but the rather large population at this spot in the woods has white flowers, and rather than hanging below the leaves, the flowers were either above the leaves or hung just at leaf level. I have seen this same phenomenon at a couple of sites in South Carolina. One Trillium researcher (whose name I shall not mention) says that this may be a new species. If so, I hope she finishes her work and describes it soon, so I won’t have to keep calling it “Catesby-like”. ‘Nuf said. Here are images of some of the flowers I saw. Please keep in mind that I was battling gale-force winds when I took these shots, so some of them may not be as clear and crisp as I would like:
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In this last image, the flowers do hang down a bit past the leaves, but not as much as would a typical Catesby’s Trillium:

As I finished up and was heading back down the trail toward my truck, I spotted a common sight in the rich deciduous forests of the Southern Appalachian Mountains — the cone-like structures of the parasitic, Conopholis americana or Squawroot, sometimes called Bear Corn. It lives on the roots of Oak and Beech trees. Since the plant contains no chlorophyll, it cannot make its own food through photosynthesis, so it has to get its nourishment by parasitizing the roots of living trees:


I will leave you with some shots of an encounter I had somewhere on the road to the top of the mountain. As I rounded one of the sharp curves, I spotted a kaleidoscope (yep, look it up) of butterflies in the middle of the road. I knew it could be only one thing — “puddling”. That’s when a number of butterflies (or other insects) gather to feast on minerals that are usually left in the spot where another animal has urinated. Urine is rich in salts, which apparently, the butterflies need to thrive. I stopped and quietly got out of the truck, taking my tripod and camera and tiptoeing to the scene. I was amazed at how close they let me come. This is what I saw:


–Jim



























0 Responses
Interesting history lesson and great photos.
Next time I’m out in the back country I’ll remember to “feed the butterflies”!
I am enthralled with your blog posts. You put so much time and research into them. Thanks for sharing and educating!