Posts Tagged ‘Vermont’

Enough Pumpkins in the Patch?

by Cathy Bell

(originally posted on vtdigger.org)

Back in the middle of September, a headline caught my eye. “Northeast Faces Devastating Pumpkin Shortage,” I read, with a mixture of amusement and trepidation.

Devastating?  Really?  Pumpkins are cheery and plump and orange.  It’s tough for me to take them seriously enough to believe that anyone could possibly construe a shortage as devastating.  Even the name—pumpkin—is irresistibly rotund and bouncy-sounding.  Still, that headline got me a little worried.  I have a tradition of throwing a pumpkin-carving party the weekend before Halloween.  It’s always great fun to gather a group of friends together for a few hours of quality time with sharp knives and slimy pumpkin innards.  What if there weren’t enough pumpkins this year?

Fortunately for pumpkin seekers, it appears that the forecast Great Pumpkin Shortage isn’t so devastating after all.  If you drive through rural Vermont or stop by your local farmers’ market, you will see row upon row of happy-looking pumpkins offered up for sale.  So what’s the story?  Is there a pumpkin shortage or not?

To answer that question, I swung by my local farmers’ market in the Old North End of Burlington and checked in with Lauri Brewster of The Farm at Cold Spring in Milton.  “It’s regional,” said Brewster.  “Low-lying areas got hit hard.  But we have plenty of pumpkins.”

Not all growers were so fortunate.  Many suffered significant losses in the wake of Tropical Storm Irene.  Mark Winslow of Winslow Farms in Pittsford reported that floodwaters destroyed about half his pumpkin crop.  “Approximately 150 tons washed away.  That’s $40,000 in pumpkins.  Because of the loss, we are not able to deliver to our wholesale customers, though we still have an excellent crop for our farm stand.”

Montpelier’s Hunger Mountain Co-op has purchased Halloween pumpkins for over twenty years from a single grower, East Hardwick’s Riverside Farm, said produce manager Robert Kirigan.  This year, about a third of Riverside Farm’s pumpkin crop was lost, so “we are a little short,” Kirigan admitted.

Despite having fewer pumpkins to satisfy demand, prices don’t seem to be any higher than usual this year.  According to Kirigan, “Our pricing is the same as last year.  Although normally shortages would tend to push the price up, we and Riverside Farm decided not to raise our prices.  We wanted to encourage folks to buy real pumpkins, not plastic ones.  And for the sake of the Earth we want them to be organic, not grown with chemicals.  So holding the line on price seemed like the right thing to do.”

With fewer pumpkins around, some vendors turn to out-of-state growers to ensure fully-stocked shelves.  Burlington’s City Market, though, specializes in stocking Vermont pumpkins, produce stocker Kara Brown said.  “We buy them from about five different suppliers, some organic and some conventional.  They’ve all definitely had a tighter supply than last year.”

Dire warnings of a pumpkin shortage hit the media a few weeks after Hurricane Irene inundated the East Coast, with news outlets including the Washington Post, CBS News, and the Wall Street Journal posting stories about the potential for a paucity of pumpkins this fall.  Some pumpkin patches, like those of Winslow Farms, were destroyed outright by flooding.  Even if they weren’t carried away by high water, pumpkins that sat in standing water are illegal to sell—a problem encountered by growers in Burlington’s Intervale.

Irene brought a longer-term, more insidious threat, as well.  Lingering moisture in the fields created an ideal environment for the spread of a host of pumpkin diseases.  Plants may not have to suffer through sore throats or stopped-up sinuses, but they can be afflicted with a wide variety of conditions including wilts, rots, and blights.  Like us, they can succumb to onslaughts by bacteria, viruses, and fungi.

“It may be difficult to imagine,” write Purdue University plant pathologists Richard Latin and Karen Rane in their Identification and Management of Pumpkin Diseases, “but we receive more requests for information on pumpkin diseases and pumpkin disease control than on any other vegetable crop.”

Why pumpkins?  The answer lies in what they are and how they grow.  Pumpkins, of course, are squash.  To a botanist, they’re members of the cucurbit family, related to cucumbers and watermelons.  Most members of this plant family are vines, and pumpkins are no exception; they grow by sprawling across the ground.  Their vines can lengthen by as much as six inches a day during peak growing season.  This rapid growth means that pumpkin plants need rich soil and plenty of water.

The challenge is that too much water creates ideal conditions for pathogens that cause rot and decay. Particularly problematic are puddles that persist on the ground in the pumpkin patch.  You probably know how disappointing it is to find a pumpkin that looks perfect from the top, but that has a big soft spot on the underside, sometimes with visible white mold.  This is Phytophthora blight.  The name is a mouthful, but it’s telling: “phyto” means plant in ancient Greek, and “phthora” means ruin or decay—so you can think of Phytophthora as the Plant Destroyer.  There dozens of different kinds of Phytophthora; one, Phytophthora infestans, caused the Irish Potato Famine.

The species that infects pumpkins is called Phytophthora capsici, and it’s a tricky thing to fight.  It used to be considered a fungus, but it has a few strange traits which have led taxonomists to reclassify it as an oomycete, in a different kingdom of life altogether.  Like fungi, it spreads by producing spores.  One kind, called an oospore, is round and thick-walled; it’s built to last and can persist in the soil for years.  But Phytophthora’s other spore type, known as a zoospore or swimmer, is the fascinating one.  Each swimmer sports two little whiplike tails that it uses to propel itself through water.  The existence of these swimmers means that Phytophthora is more closely related to diatoms and marine plankton than it is to fungi.

There are other diseases that infect pumpkins, too, and many of them thrive when there’s a lot of late-season moisture, as there was this year.  In fact, the susceptibility of pumpkins to disease, combined with strongly-seasonal demand (pumpkins are worth a whole lot less if they go to market on November 1), sets them up as a crop that has potential for shortages.  Luckily, weather that creates ideal conditions for disease is usually localized.  In any given year, there’s probably some region of the country that has a pumpkin production problem … but there are plenty of other pumpkins in the patch, if you’re willing to go a little farther afield.

That’s good news for those of us who are shopping for pumpkins, but small consolation for farmers who suffered losses during Tropical Storm Irene.  “I just wish there was a real insurance program for specialty crops,” said Winslow.  “We do not use the government program because our past experience is that it is completely inadequate.”

Rock: The Best Thing about Vermont

by Becky Cushing

I’m not a geologist, but recently I learned a thing or two about Vermont bedrock that bumps it above maple syrup or cheese on Vermont’s “Best of” List.

By nature, I ask a lot of questions: What trees are those? How deep is this soil? What bird lives in that nest? Turns out, a lot of the answers are directly or indirectly related to the kind of rock below. And in Vermont, those are calcium-rich rocks—which create an alluring hotspot for many cool, rare or economically important plants.

Picture Vermont 500 million years ago, covered by a vast ocean full of planktonic organisms—a primordial soup. Over time, generations of these tiny organisms died and their bodies drifted to the seafloor laying down sediment full of calcium. When the land shifted and the ocean receded, these compressed sediments formed the basis for the calcareous bedrock of today’s Champlain Valley, mostly dolostone.

So what’s the deal with calcium? Plants need it for metabolism and structure, just like we do. It also helps to raise the pH of the soil (thus lowering the acidity). The chemistry gets a little complicated—but find enlightenment (like I did) in a bottle of Tums. Calcium carbonate, well-known for soothing heartburn, also neutralizes acidity in soil making it more alkaline. Who cares? Bacteria, for starters. And those rascals are necessary for making nitrogen available to plants. In fact, under acidic conditions many nutrients give plants the cold shoulder—instead they’re hooking up with each other or leaching out of plants’ reach. Where dolostone (or limestone) is close to the surface (thanks to several glaciations and years of other erosive processes) these nutrients are more willing.

Farmers have known this forever and call neutral or alkaline soils “sweet.” Plant biologists know it too. I’m embarrassed to admit it took nearly a semester of botany for me to pick up on the pattern of our field trip locations—calcareous bedrock stared me straight in the eye.

Maidenhair Fern

Maidenhair fern near Gleason Brook (photo courtesy of Ryan Morra)

For instance, check out the Long Trail near Gleason Brook in Bolton, VT. If you park in the lot off of Duxbury Rd. and hike up a quarter mile or so, you will start to see telltale plants of calcium-enriched soils like maidenhair fern, wood nettle, blue cohosh, plantain-leaved sedge and white baneberry (doll’s eyes). Sugar maple, white ash, basswood and hophornbeam dominate the tree canopy while striped maples sit eagerly in the understory. Stay on the trail to find the dense patch of pale touch-me- not, an irregular pale yellow flower, at the base of a steep slope on the south side of the trail. Here the downward movement of soil and nutrients from the upper slope along with the exposed calcareous bedrock create a double whammy of plant nutrient bliss. Scientists describe this type of vegetative community as a Rich Northern Hardwood Forest—sounds fancy but Vermonters are spoiled with this natural community-type in ample abundance.

Wood Nettle

Wood nettle near Gleason Brook (photo courtesy of Ryan Morra)

Vermont’s best-kept secret, dolostone, has broader implications than satisfying curious botanizers. Conservation planners, for instance, can use geologic surveys to identify potential priority areas for rare plants among Vermont’s varying bedrock landscape. If you travel a few miles farther on the Long Trail up toward the summit of Camel’s Hump your heartburn might return—the rock transitions to more resistant igneous and metamorphic rocks resembling the bedrock geology of our neighbors to the east in “The Granite State.” At the summit’s rare (seemingly masochistic) alpine plants thrive under harsh, acidic conditions—yet another botanical treat thanks to the state’s multifarious geologic past. Motley geology begets vegetative diversity.

So, next time you douse your pancakes with maple syrupy goodness, take a moment to thank the nutrient-rich soil conditions integral to the Sugar maple-dominated forest community of Vermont.

And remember the best—and oldest—thing about Vermont is the rock.

 

 

A Closer Look at Cones: Norway Spruce

by Doug Morin

 

Thwack……thwack……

What was that, I wonder?  Never mind, I have to focus.

thwackclunkbang………

Bang? Was that a bang?

thwackbang……thwackthwack

I couldn’t help myself.  I opened the window and look down to the garage and driveway.  Nothing moved.  The neighbors weren’t even home.  Back to work.

thwackthwackthwack

I raced over to the window, catching a flash of rust-colored fur bolting along a spruce branch to the inner tree.  I looked down; the driveway was covered with spruce cones.  I stayed put, waiting to catch the culprit red-handed.  A minute later, the squirrel ran boldly out one of the long spruce limbs, 40 feet above the ground.  It ran to the end of the branch, hung down off it’s back feet, grabbed a cone with its front feet, chewed the cone’s base for a few second, then let it fall.  thwackclunkbang……… The cone tumbled to the ground, hitting the neighbor’s roof, the side of our house, then my housemate’s car.

Norway spruce. Note the swooping branches and drooping branchlets. Source: http://bioweb.uwlax.edu/bio203/s2009/madisen_neil/

Over the course of the last week, the squirrel dropped about 200 cones into our yard and driveway, by my estimate.  The cones were coming off a Norway spruce (Picea abies) tree in our backyard.

Native to Europe, Norway spruce is one of the main trees in the forests of Germany, Switzerland, Austria, and Russia.  In the U.S., it is commonly grown as an ornamental and in plantations, but rarely establishes on its own.   It is widespread throughout the cities and suburbs of the Northeast, so keep an eye out and you will start seeing it everywhere.

Norway spruce may be the tree most easily identified from a distance.  Once you get the search-image, you will be able to recognize it while driving 60 miles an hour on the highway.  An evergreen, Norway spruce has short, dark needles.   The trees usually grow 50-80 feet tall and two feet in diameter, and often have branches almost all the way to the ground.  And, most importantly –here’s your 60mph field mark— branches off the main stem arc upward (“swooping”) while branchlets growing from the main branches are long and hang down (“drooping”).  Swoop and droop – it’s that easy.

Now, back to the cones.  When you imagine a cone, I bet you think of a dry, brown one, light as a feather.  But, cones are not always so. The dry brown ones most of us imagine have passed maturity and already released their seeds.  In contrast, the cones pelting our house were still developing – leathery, green (or pink early in the season!), and dense.  Plenty dense to dent a car, as we discovered.

But these cones are only one of the two kinds of cones conifers produce.  The big cones we tend to think of (and the kind now all over my driveway) are female cones.  They are usually between 1 inch and 6 inches long depending on the species and produce seeds under their scales.  Squirrels eat the seeds, explaining why our squirrel was amassing a collection of female cones.  Lesser known are male cones.

Separate structures from female cones, male cones tend to be small (1/2 inch or less in length) and not as long lasting (they often disappear in days or weeks).  They produce pollen for a short time in the spring then, having fertilized female seeds, their job is done, and

they die back.  Interestingly, the difference between male and female cones explains why the squirrel was dropping cones from high enough to bombard our roof.

Male cones on left, Female cones on right. Sources: http://projectbudburst.blogspot.com/2010/05/look-at-conifer-phenology.html, Wikimedia Commons

Most trees concentrate male cones on their lower branches and female cones on their higher branches.  This serves an evolutionary role: it prevents self-fertilization. With male cones down low and female cones up high, pollen from male cones must get blown by the wind to get high enough to reach a female cone. This wind will usually carry the pollen to another tree.  If, however, the cones were intermixed or the males were on top, the pollen would fall directly into its own female cones.

So, if the tree wants to mate with another tree, rather than itself, it puts its female cones up high… giving them plenty of time to accelerate as they fall before pelting roofs, cars, and the occasional unsuspecting bystander.

 

 

 

 

Natural Destinations: Silvio O. Conte National Fish and Wildlife Refuge

By Danielle Owczarski

A view of Lewis Pond and the Nulhegan River Basin during October foliage.

Far from Burlington, hidden in the low basin of the Nulhegan River in the Northeast Kingdom, awaits a little known National Fish and Wildlife Refuge. The 26,000 acres of refugium established in 1999 encompasses three headwater tributaries to the Nulhegan River, itself a tributary to the 7.2 million acre Connecticut River watershed. Protection of this basin is critical to the health of many species of plants and wildlife and to the water quality of the Connecticut River. The Silvio O. Conte National Fish and Wildlife Refuge was created to protect these valued natural resources.

The North Branch of the Nulhegan River.

Now is the best time to visit the quiet boreal and northern hardwood landscape. Red and sugar maple, balsam fir, tamarack, yellow birch, and beech color the landscape in the fall months, nourishing the soul’s need for creative inspiration. Lewis Pond, the Nulhegan River trail, and Mollie Beattie Bog (named after UVM Alumni and first women director of U.S. Fish and Wildlife), are a few of the Tolkienesque attractions within the refuge. Start your tour at the exemplary Visitor’s Center in Brunswick, VT, to collect trail maps and wildlife viewing guides and explore the interactive interpretive exhibits.

Mollie Beattie Bog, a black spruce woodland bog, is a significant natural community in Vermont. The interpretive trail includes a handicap accessible boardwalk.

The headwaters of the Nulhegan offer a tranquil and wild setting for fly fishermen and women. The Black Branch and North Branch, along with Lewis Pond, comprise healthy brook trout populations, which are periodically stocked by the Vermont Department of Fish and Wildlife. The most recent stocking in the Black Branch on June 20, 2011, included 100 eight-inch yearling brook trout. Studies conducted in 2000 indicate that self-sustaining wild brook trout populations exist within the cool clear tannic waters of the refuge streams. The ideal habitat supports healthy macroinvertebrate populations that provide nourishment for the trout throughout the year.

A wild brook trout caught in the Nulhegan River.

The refuge also supports scientific research studies. While driving or hiking along the refuge roads, lined and filled with gravel and dirt, you’ll come across plots of young low grasses and shrubs, managed to encourage breeding and nesting of the American Woodcock (Scolopax minor). The area is also home to such projects as the Migratory Bird Stopover Habitat Study, the Canada Warbler Study at the Nulhegan Basin Division, Effects of Habitat Fragmentation on Carnivore Distribution and Fitness Indicators in Vermont Forests, and the Study of Public Use on the Nulhegan Basin Division.

Be sure to enjoy the ride.

This land is truly a place for anyone with a passion for the outdoors whether hiking, bird watching, hunting, fishing, observing, or renewing. So turn off the computer, grab a friend, and immerse yourself in Nature.

For directions to and in-depth information about the Silvio O. Conte NFWR:

http://www.fws.gov/r5soc/come_visit/nulhegan_basin_division.html