Tag Archives: seed germination

August Showers (and July Heatwaves) Bring September Sarracenia Flowers

Under normal conditions, Sarracenia pitcher plants bloom once: in spring. Many carnivorous and protocarnivorous plants can bear flowers at different times through the year, and frail triggerplants are so profligate that the trick is to get them to stop blooming. Sarracenia, though, are very consistent. They bloom before producing traps, presumably because Sarracenia pollinators in spring tend to be top prey insects the rest of the year, and the seed pods mature throughout summer before cracking open and scattering seed at the beginning of winter. Once those blooms drop their petals in late April or early May, that’s it, right?

Well, not always. Every once in a while, you’ll see an anomaly. Toward the end of September, as temperatures cool and the pitcher plants perk up for autumn, you might find a bloom or two. The blooms may be full-sized, but the flower scapes from which they dangle are abnormally short, sometimes just a couple of centimeters tall. Any fragrance on the blooms tends to be diminished as well, from the Kool-Aid scent of S. leucophylla to the “last day of an anime convention” stench of S. flava, and the distinctive cap at the bottom of the bloom also shows anomalous development. (The image below shows the bloom cap on S. leucophylla “Compacta”, with unusual deformities and an incomplete cap, with exposed anthers.)

The hypothesis here is that these September blooms are a response to the abnormally hot and dry summer in North Texas, as well as the subsequent low humidity after our torrential rains in August and early September. These seem to be most common on S. flava and associated hybrids, with a few seen on S. leucophylla and S. minor and their hybrids. With the latter, the flower scapes range from short to normal height, with S. minor being the most likely to produce full-length flower scapes. So far, I have yet to see any on S. rubra, S. oreophylla, or S. purpurea or their variations or hybrids.

An interesting correlation, which requires further research, is that the likelihood of September blooms depends upon when the plant blooms in spring. By far, the most common September blooms come from S. flava, which is famed for blooming as much as a month before other Sarracenia species. In North Texas, S. leucophylla is particularly sensitive to late freezes in spring, sometimes only starting to bloom three weeks after all others have finished for the season.

The hypothesis: this trait expresses itself after especially stressful summers, where the plant survives but the seed pods may be damaged from extended heat. The blooms themselves appear to be viable based on the enthusiastic efforts by local bees and wasps to gather nectar and pollen, but gathering and attempting to germinate any seeds from these blooms is the only way to confirm whether the seeds are viable. I am already gathering seed from early-maturing spring seed pods and getting ready to gather ones opening later in the season, and comparing germination and growth of seedlings from each group will be necessary to determine if the September blooms are a useful strategy for a seed do-over after an especially brutal summer. We’ll all find out more for certain next spring.

December Ice Storms Bring January Surprises

Roridula gorgonias

If any real good came out of last month’s Icepocalypse and January’s rollercoaster weather, it came in the demonstration of seed germination difficulties. Several years back, I attempted to get results with seeds from the famed semi-carnivorous plant genus Roridula, both species dentata and gorgonias, and ran full-tilt into the challenges of Texas weather. Specifically, I finally got one batch to start sprouting around the end of summer, right when I was about ready to give up and toss the pots. They were doing beautifully until we had a panic about impending cold weather, and I brought them inside. That’s when I learned one of the big secrets to Roridula husbandry: they have no tolerance of stagnant air conditions as seedlings, and they all perished of fungus infections within two days.

This time, the issues were even worse. I replicated the conditions for the previous success, but the seeds simply refused to come up all year long. I figured “Well, it can’t hurt to leave them in their pot and see if they emerge in spring.” Do they? Nope: the little monsters are precocious. Instead, right after getting a second Arctic blast right after New Year’s Day, I came out to the greenhouse to assess any potential damage and discovered these little guys popping up all over the place. I can’t make any promises as to having Roridula available to the general public by summer, but it’s more encouraging than before.

Stylidium graminofolium

Roridula isn’t the only semi-carnivorous plant that seems to need fluctuating warmth and cold for best germination results. Having lost my last Stylidium graminofolium plants in the Heatwave of 2011, I missed that distinctive grasslike triggerplant, and started fresh with new seeds. Guess what decided to greet me last weekend? When lecturing on carnivorous plants, I regularly point out that many carnivores thrive on benign neglect. One of these days, I need to pay attention to my own advice.