Tromping through a place titled the Green Swamp Preserve in late summer in North Carolina might not sound appealing. I don’t know what is the greater deterrent, the mental conjurings of a swamp, heat and humidity, or biting insects that are certain to plague visitors at that time of year.
But, when I visited in 2012, it was in the mid-seventies and overcast, and instead of finding swarms of biting insects or even a single tick, I found a plethora of late summer wildflowers in bloom and at their prime. This place wasn’t a swamp. It was a garden of Eden.
The Green Swamp is named not because of the quicksand we’ve seen in the movies but instead for the pocosins found scattered about in the longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) savanna. A pocosin, named by the Algonquian Native Americans for a “swamp on a hill,” are wetlands that are elevated above the surrounding ground due to a build up of organic matter. This habitat is unique and the World Wildlife Fund has designated this area one of the top ten ecoregions in North America. Noteworthy also is the longleaf pine savanna; their range is much larger as longleaf pines once occupied 90 million acres from east Texas all the way around the gulf coast to Virginia. However, now only 5% of this habitat remains. But, thanks to The Nature Conservancy, approximately 15,000 acres were preserved here in the Green Swamp in North Carolina in the 1970’s and 1980’s for those of use who like to wander looking at wildflowers. And, I must say that standing it this longleaf pine cathedral with wiregrass (Aristida) floor tiled occasionally with orchids, carnivorous plants, and other wildflowers was an incredible experience.
I trekked to the Green Swamp because of Flickr. Some great photos I had seen online had spurred me into visiting this area. And, then by a fun coincidence, I ran into one of my Flickr friends in the parking lot who I had never met in person! The connection was made when we exchanged greetings, discussed the flora of the area, and then made introductions. I knew the name Skip Pudney sounded familiar, and sure enough, he was in my Flickr contacts. It was wonderful serendipity running into him because he gave me advice on where to look for flowers. Skip told me that the Big Island Savanna, named for the large island of grassy habitat, was the best he had seen it in his 8 years of visiting. He noted The Nature Conservancy had burned it the past two years. Fire is essential for many species that can quickly be outcompeted by the scrub. Therefore, perhaps the burning was a factor contributing to this year’s great bloom?
The beautiful longleaf pine savanna. Notice the dark black burn scars on the trees from previous years.
From Skip’s advice, I first ventured back along the trail to find carnivorous plants. The Green Swamp is home to several of them. Venus fly traps (Dionaea muscipula) were one of the highlights from the day. This fascinating species not only has captured insects but also the minds of young and old over the years. Even those who show little interest in plants perk up when they hear about Venus fly traps. And, they don’t hail from far away lands. No, they are endemic to a 100-mile radius around Wilmington, NC. The traps technically are modified leaves. If two or more hairs are touched in succession, then the leaf will close and trap an insect.
My first encounter with Venus fly trap (Dionaea muscipula) in the wild!
On this adventure I also saw Sarracenia for the first time in the wild! Sarracenia flava was scattered about in the wiregrass savanna, and this yellow pitcher plant is one of the tallest in North America. Most were tattered after the summer, but some were producing new pitchers for fall.
A few new pitchers on Sarracenia flava are popping up out of the grass.
Even the tattered foliage and flowers of yellow pitcher plants (Sarracenia flava) looked admirably rustic.
The Green Swamp is also well known for being home to native terrestrial orchids, and I timed it just right to see three of the late-summer flowering orchids in bloom. In decreasing order of fringe, I saw Platanthera ciliaris, Platanthera cristata, and Platanthera integra. While all three were beautiful, my favorite was of course Platanthera ciliaris. It was very showy with its large orange flowers with the frills. And, I loved seeing the gradation from bloom to bud on this indeterminate inflorescence.
Platanthera ciliaris (orange-fringed orchid) dotted the landscape.
A close up of the delicate Platanthera ciliaris flowers.
Platanthera cristata had a little less fringe but was still lovely to see.
As the name suggests, the yellow fringeless orchid, Platanthera integra, has no frills on the lower petal. The epithet integra means entire or undivided.
Scattered amongst the wiregrass were other colorful delights like the bronzing foliage of cinnamon fern (Osmundastrum cinnamomeum) and fire-engine red petals of Lilium catesbaei.
I had never seen cinnamon fern have such good late summer color. Of course, it gets better. Check out Alan Cressler’s photo of it in November.
An opening pine lily’s (Lilium catesbaei) red petals lick like flames against wiregrass.
Here’s a Lilium catesbaei that’s a bit further along. You can see the pollen dehiscing.
Eventually I made it to a back area that was wetter, and I discovered what I like to call a milky way of blazing stars. There must have been thousands of plants in bloom here along a 500 foot stretch near the edge habitat. And, scattered amongst them were other noteworthy wildflowers.
Just look at how the purple fades into the upper right of this image. These Liatris pilosa went on and on.
Grassleaf blazing star (Liatris pilosa) made this a purple milky way.
Grassleaf Barbara’s buttons (Marshallia graminifolia) was one of my goals to see for the trip, and I was happy to see it in abundance.
I believe these Marshallia have garden merit. I just love their pinwheel galaxy appearance.
As the Liatris became more sparse, the rush featherling (Pleea tenuifolia)—and don’t you just love the common name—became more prevalent.
A close up of Pleea tenuifolia in flower
Another species I added to my wishlist to grow one day was Zigadenus glaberrimus or the sandbog death camas. They had these beautiful and persistant tepals.
I know I talked about carnivorous plants earlier, but I think this trip was also the first time in my horticulture career that I realized that flowers could be used as lures by predatory insects. I saw multiple examples throughout the day of predators waiting to ambush a pollinator.
Seems I'm not the only one admiring this yellow fringed orchid (Platanthera ciliaris). A praying mantis hangs on the fringe, undoubtedly waiting for some flying prey to come along.
Don’t mind me. I’m just waiting for dinner.
Grassleaf Barbara’s buttons makes a great stakeout spot for Carolina anole (Anolis carolinensis).
I returned to my car after seeing yet another great example of southeastern flora and a habitat that deserves to be revered more. I know that organizations are working to restore these habitats, and after seeing the diversity of plants in the Green Swamp, I wholeheartedly welcome such efforts.