Today’s column is the product of something very important in life, but missing from the lives of many modern Americans — quiet time.
I was sitting out on my deck last Tuesday, enjoying a little sunshine before a multi-day cold stretch — rainy weather had moved in. It was a glorious way to spend my afternoon. I sat in my favorite place, spent time with the birds that were willing to approach me, and enjoyed the feeling of hot sun and cool breeze on my face.
About an hour into my quiet time, I found myself thinking that it might be nice to take my camera out into the yard and look for what might be new and interesting. In particular, I was interested in taking some photos of the birch catkins that I had seen swelling and bursting into flower. I got the photos (and will share them in a future column), but I also stumbled upon a red maple that had opened its buds and exposed some interesting flowers. These immediately consumed my full attention.
I took several photos, but upon closer inspection that evening, I discovered that they were unusable. I needed better light, the correct lens and a gentler breeze. So, on Wednesday, I collected a sample of the flowers and took them back to my photography studio. This, by the way, is a fancy way of saying that I cut a small twig off the tree and brought it to my kitchen. The cold, cloudy weather had arrived and there was simply no way that the pictures I was looking for could be taken outside.
I snapped a few shots and noticed something very interesting. Underneath the petals, almost hidden from view, were the green wings of what would become future seeds. So I took a few outer shots, finally deciding that sunlight and a fill flash would produce the best results, and then took out a pair of very sharp tweezers and removed some of the petals.
In so doing, I made a personal discovery that I found quite remarkable. The flower that I was looking at appeared to have two distinct sexual parts.
Looking at the photo with the green center, you can clearly see that this flower is actually two joined together. The swollen green areas in the center will eventually become the ripened seeds, and the wings that help the fly-like little helicopters, will eventually lengthen and become rigid and lightweight. Beneath the seeds are the fuzzy red arches of the pistils, which are the female portions of a flower that trap pollen and deliver it to the egg cells waiting in the seeds.
However, the flowers also appear to be equipped with stamens, which are the male portions of a flower that produce pollen. The stamen didn’t look right to me, so I did a little digging and this is what I discovered — the red maple (Acer rubrum) is a plant with a fascinating sex life. Apparently, the trees can either be entirely male, or entirely female. Plants that follow this reproductive strategy are dioeceous. Other plants will produce both male and female flowers, but the flowers will be in separate locations. Plants that follow this strategy are monoecious.
Red maples are remarkable in the sense that they can use either strategy, and this is then compounded by the amazing discovery that red maples can switch strategies in the middle of their lives. The trees can start out as one sex and then switch.
The more I studied and the longer I looked at my photos, the more amazing it all seemed to me.
Bill Danielson has worked for the National Park Service, the U.S. Forest Service, and the Massachusetts State Parks. He has been a professional writer and nature photographer for 19 years and also teaches high school biology and physics. For more information, visit: www.speakingofnature.com or go to Speaking of Nature on Facebook.