MAY
BOTANIZING
📍Baltic seashore, Lithuania
Overwhelming — May presents a challenge in focusing on any single theme, plant, or phenomenon for exploration.
Yet, we decided to seek out something rare and tiny: the Least Moonwort (Botrychium simplex), the smallest and rarest fern in Lithuania, a postglacial relic. It's ironic that we chose to botanize for this fern, which usually appears after May 1oth, instead of focusing on who already is in the presence.
We visited a site near the Baltic Sea, Nemirseta, where a new population was discovered in 2019 by ecologist Erlandas Paplauskis.
The Nemirseta population is not only the most abundant in Lithuania but might also be the largest in Europe. Nearly two hundred years ago, like Erlandas, pharmacist Wilhelm Kannenberg discovered moonworts near Klaipėda (then Memel) that he couldn't identify. He collected herbarium specimens, and almost three decades later, Ernst Klinsmann described a new species, naming it Botrychium kannenbergii.*
In North America, B. simplex was described almost three decades earlier than B. kannenbergii, thus the name B. simplex has priority. Yet, Wilhelm Kannenberg's find is notable for being the first one in Europe.
Exploring the habitat, first creatures that pops to eyes — the rare Green-winged Orchids (Anacamptis morio) alongside Meadow Saxifrage (Saxifraga granulata). These meadows, dominated by herbaceous perennial flowering plants, often serve as alternative hosts for the mycorrhizal fungi that probably support the underground growth of Botrychium.*
During the first few hours, there were no signs of B. simplex. In between, attention was captured by gatherings of Malacosoma castrense caterpillars. It’s intriguing how certain creatures can suddenly draw our focus from a sea of information. What makes the mind choose one detail over another? How does it decide what to concentrate on in such a rich and varied environment? The way our attention shifts and settles is a mystery, driven by a complex interplay of curiosity, unexpected, visual perception limits, cultural constraints.... what else?
The search image in mind is of a fern no taller than 8 cm. Can't see it. As lifting the gaze slightly, attention is drawn to the movement of nearby creatures.
The first day, no luck. It would make sense to return in end of the week. In the meantime, what is possible to meet around that habitat?
Let's head towards the dunes. The dune pansy, or seaside pansy (Viola tricolor ssp. curtisii), catches the eye. Why, what specifically? As Ronald Moore says, "Much of what we admire in nature is nameless... because it is a combination of looks, sounds, smells, glints, hues, swirls, and so on.". What are these combinations in this case?
A little bit further from the dunes into the forest red catchfly (Silene dioica).
Venturing deeper into the forest, the more grasses appear. A poem comes to mind: "Sedges have edges, rushes are round, grasses have knees that bend to the ground."
The soft brome (Bromus hordeaceus). Some critics argue that naming plants as species amounts to plant objectification. But could it also be viewed as a form of respect? After all, closely observing and encountering them numerous times can lead to an appreciation of their individuality.
Returning after a week into B.simplex habitat. Among the delicate foliage, tiny and rare Spring vetch (Vicia lathyroides), perhaps only 5 cm tall. It's noteworthy that B. simplex often grows in close proximity to this species.*
Another diminutive inhabitant, barely 3 cm tall strict forget-me-not (Myosotis stricta). To its right, you can find early hair-grass (Aira praecox). B. simplex also grows in close proximity to these species as well.*
Who's this creature? Maybe endemic Tragopogon heterospermus? Too early to say, since it's not yet flowering.
The little B. simplex is still missing. Maybe it's the wrong time to look for it? Symbolically, the discovery of B. simplex in 2019 occurred just before Saint John's Eve (June 24th), an ideal time for seeking fern flowers and eternal love. In fact, one can find fern flowers (gametophytes responsible for sexual propagation) in Nemirseta if they know where to look.
As we turn back home, following the little path through the pine forest... wait. What's this?
Mousetail (Myosurus minimus)! Quite unexpected, the only one in the whole area.
