Portfolio

Alana McCool, natural left habitus (photo by D. Nolin).

 

Traditional Illustrations

Snow Trillium (Trillium nivale)

Skunk Cabbage (Symplocarpus foetidus)

Bookmark: Striped Maple (Acer pensylvanicum)

Bookmark: Wall-rue (Asplenium ruta-muraria)

Ice pans in eddy on the Little Miami River. Ball-point pen.

four lichen vignettes. Pen and colored pencil, 2x3 in. each

button lichen study at three scales (Amandinea sp.) pen and watercolor

It filled the violet-blue sky (total eclipse 2017) Acrylic, 5x4 in.

Smooth Rockcress (Boechera lavigata). Acrylic.

Bookmarks: The Four Seasons: Winter (Symplocarpus foeditus, Hamamelis virginiana, Hepatica acticuloba, Trillium nivale); Spring (Sanguinaria canadensis, Erythronium americanum, Iris cristata, Jeffersonia diphylla); Summer (Silene regia, Ratibida pinnata, Euphorbia corellata, Fillipendula rubra); Autumn (Solidago canadensis, Symphyotrichum, Eupatorium, Solidago rigida).

Johnny Darter (Etheostoma nigrum). Pen.

 Vector Illustrations

Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadense)

tachinid fly (Eucelatoria gladiatrix)

Genitalia of tachinid fly (Vibrissina sp.)

Maps of West Region of Ohio nature preserves with bedrock, physiographic region, original vegitation, and glacial thickness maps. These images are examples of using Inkscape layers and clipping to make quick and dirty mock-ups for personal research use.

Photography

Viceroy with Cornus sp.

Round-leaf Hepatica (Hepatica rotundifolia)

White Turtlehead (Chelone glabra)

Puffball mushrooms

Lesser Fringed Gentian (Gentianopsis virgata)

Purple Cress (Cardamine douglassii)

White Trout Lily (Erythronium albidum)

Sharp-lobed Hepatica (Hepatica acticuloba)

Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadense)

Stiff Goldenrod (Solidago rigida)

Savannah Blazing Star (Liatris scariosa)

Smooth Rockcress (Boechera lavigata)

jumping bristletail (Archeognatha: Machilidae)

periodical cicada (Magicicada sp.)

browse damage on Trillium nivale

Trillium nivale stunted by non-alkaline substrate

Davey Woods State Nature Preserve

Huffman Prairie State Natural Landmark

Massie Creek, Indian Mound Reserve

Huffman Prairie State Natural Landmark

Pope Lake State Natural Area (see original here).

Other Illustrations

Untitled. Pen and colored pencil.

Stained Glass 2. Charcoal and colored pencil.

 

 

 

Grass in Wind and Sun. Vine Charcoal.

Laura awake, sky is deep blue and purple through slats on window shades, haze on horizon yellow in brown far away. and high in east is bright Venus. Her eyes lay on it as her mind clear. It seem her it is brighter in that frost February air and pulse, with little halo. It makes a spot on her eyes, so that when she closes them, Venus is still there. And they open again, and the floating spot fall on the floor, where her shadow lay head and torso over the bedroom door. In that Venus light spot the shadow seem waves and her eyes close again, head lays down on the pillow and Laura tries return to sleep. But the Venus spot shifts in her eyelid hallucinations, and she opens eyes again, and rubs them. Her shadow is now not cast on the door, but under it, head and shoulders disappear in the crack. She rubs her eyes again, and the shadow is further out, only legs and feet on the rug. Laura sits straight up and the shadow does not follow her. It is gone, out the door. She holds out her hand and Venus light lay on the wall, as if her hand is perfect clear glass. She is alone in the room without her shadow. Laura shivers away her blankets and any thought about go back to sleep, buts on some slippers and her robe, and opens the bedroom door to see the shadow slipping through the kitchen to the East, to the backdoor over the yard and the corn field beyond; under the crack it goes, and Laura pulls open the door and follows it in the cold light. There she sees the shadow grow, darker in furrows and brighter in ice puddles and on stubble; it stretches out, hand towards her, hands reaching North and South, legs drawn out in long ropes that extend like railroad tracks to the horizon. And then more, Laura sees two more hand shadows stretching from North and South, joining with her shadow. and on that time, with great shadow nazca lines before her, it seems Laura that Venus's light waxes and pulses. And then she know it pulsed, because the shadow darker ripples, it is heat or steam over asphalt, though the air is freezing. Then the shadows hold arms tighter, and Laura sees them fly up in the blue violet sky, black bird shapes appear from the horizons, rise up to the vanishing point, an unbroken chain of shadows flying up in a ring. and she sees the inverse halo set darker and tighter around the Morning Star, and their heads and legs tighter and tighter. It makes her eyes hurt to look at that millions strong Koch curve of human shadows, but it is so beautiful and wonderful she can't look away. The ring seems to her to glow black as Venus pulses brighter and brighter, the blue violet fading to robin egg, then to white. And one last pulse blinding light, Laura finally looks away; it is like if the sun were the distance away of the moon, but with none the heat. and then the light suddenly fades, and her vision is only one full gray white spot. And for minutes she can see nothing while she leans and breathes against the door. When it finally clears she looks up. The bright pulse of Venus fades to a steady, benign blow. The fractal ring breaks apart, long stretching falling back to earth, back over the horizon. Her shadow releases its adjoining hands as it sets down in the corn stubble, legs reversing, as they pull west to Laura standing at the door. And finally the shadow locks on her body behind her, feet under her feet. Laura turns to look at the shadow, lays her head against the door, against that part her that was always with her. And it seems her warm and comfortable, and she not fear it, or wonder if it will walk away from her again. She looks up at steady glow Venus in the now become morning red and yellow. Was it a miracle from God or gods? A beautiful rare thing that charge the dark with planet light? Or was it that last effort in souls final ritual, that all shadows along the horizon stretched out their dark for to make an un-beacon of protection? And if protection, what did that 500 suns bright pulsing mean? Who or what human shadows are protect against? Laura returns to the kitchen to wonder these things, and she sets the kettle to boil. Because, though there is still hours before sun breaks over the trees, she will find no more sleep until Venus fades in the morning light.

You want art out there,
something not
inside you, something
other, different
from those things
you can do, or think,
different from craft,
want an art
on that bedroom wall,
some van Gough, David,
da Vinci,
some object, shows that
you like the good things,
pretty things,
or smart things, or help
remind those beauty
in deep cracks
sometimes see on walks,
from eye corners, or
off windows,
sky from mirror view.
If art is outside,
separate,
feels legitimate,
realer, object says,
I am good,
I am beauty, listen,
I make you good too.
Beat down that
craft inside, push out
itch to make and do.
Is enough, says art,
you see me and like,
or wish to have me,
or work hard and make
more like me, that real
value in cotton rag
canvas for canvas.

But all you art, all,
even your most,
is clay, rock, water,
fiber, soot, no life,
dead after
drawing forth from in.
If leaves patterns fall
by windwork
in the old woodlot
and no person walks
to see it,
then if the painting
dies finally, mold
takes it, paint
chips to nothing, then
what is art really?
The only thing
on the paper is
graphite. Image comes
when we see.
All the great arts fade,
and craft inside us
bright remains.

Bookmark 19: Jeffersonia diphylla

 

Bookmark 18: Asplenium ruta-muraria

 

 

Thank you, person who

put the bench

on the trail. I was

not tired but my knees

can't move me

more, that prairie pull

them to ground, head down,

eyes full with

coneflower yellow,

purple, millions of

bergamot,

and red red red RED

royal catchfly, more

than crimson,

in the bluestem big

and little, Silphum buds

high in blue,

wind rocking my tears,

butterfly in throat,

bumblebee

in my heart.

Stone in my heart, and
stomach, pulls
me down, draw my head
to earth, tight with ropes
and lure weights,
when my mind asks, why
any one want me, what
good I have,
pull tight, knot fast and
stone drop down to earth,
and I say,
no, they care, love you,
need you, want your art,
your work, like
your help. But stone pulls down,
down, anchor drops, drags,
rope mesh or
cage, those old crab traps,
rusty and squeak the doors,
around my heart,
saying, how you can
think you are good? How
you not see,
all are annoyed, your
talk, your push into
every space,
you want too much from
everyone, doors say,
cage and ropes
tight around my heart.
Heavy stones are hard
to fight, and
trap doors always lie.

17. Mitella diphylla in winter

 

 

This beating, buzzing pulse

all round me,

all lawnmowers in

the city tuned to one

rhythm, or trimmers

set to high

slapping the curb,

every five seconds,

pulse and whine,

or old box A/C

works hard in August

heat, but this

are hundred units

shaking in humid June.

These not loved dog-day

cicadas,

pulse and fade in that

August heat, no, these

beat on, on,

no fade, only pulse

over pulse, over

pulse, on, on,

press and hang above,

those A/C units,

ears ringing,

those thousand mowers,

those red-eyed trimmers,

winged saws,

hum, and pulse, and hum,

and pulse, and hum, and

pulse, condense

humid air to static.

Under rain and gray

up at clouds

cress towers over.

Purple buds bright

against black

trunks walls behind.

Mustard green drips

siliques wet

fingers spread down,

crown flowers closed

in that mist.

Look up at that cress,

seems to grow, higher

than those oaks
behind, crown purple buds,
dark branches dripping
in dim light.

It grow in stone and gravel around,
body hidden under ground,
still and slumber most that year,
wait until that spring is near;
break through winter cold and ice
three leaves green in pale spike
up from moss and dolomite gray,
bud hidden between. When day
come and sun is bright,
flower knows time is right
for to open leaves. That bud
from power in root in mud
and stone makes petals white, and sepals
three and three; though late snow keep
all other plant in seed or leaf
that rhizome power come beneath
and open white and green and gold,
anthers stand straight and petals unfold,
meet cold and wet and winter sun,
and yet have enough warmth for one
or two days or two weeks,
when other leaves crowd and meet
stem and leaves and light grow dim,
miterwort, and Hepatica, and,
now
flower flop to mossy face,
bees gave pollen to spout of vase
in flower center from yellow fingers
and pollen on that vase spout lingers,
make tube down to base. That play
is done, now petals pinked to lay
to moss and fade. Leaves in broadness,
but soon flower senesce
and fruit grows white under shade.
That summer comes, and leaves fade,
come yellow and brown, and fruit falls
to ants that carry seeds all
to nest and let them to moss,
over leaf and root to cross
seas of mud earth, to gravel
and stone. How far they travel,
only ants know, and we know
next spring when seeds from dormant go
to germinate where some fell
on that mossy gravel and stone, and tell
how far the ants carried them. But now
parent flower finished, dark under bough
of Hydrangea and fern,
only enough sun on leaves to earn
next spring in that root, and so that stem
dries and falls away. Then
only root remains, one knuckle longer
after summer wanes and autumn wax stronger;
But under moss in that root
new flower is ready, too soon
for life, wait after winter,
cold and snow and light grow dimmer
all leaves wither to ground
branches bare and gray and brown,
but root sees nothing
and hears nothing
and tastes no sun
no wind, no rain,
and sleeps.

take me for what I love or let me go.

Some things I like: basketball - play with myself, shoot hoops, pass around my back, dribble, spin on my finger, it feel good, but never with any other person; comic books - I like really strong stories and good art most, with women; Ms. Marvel is my favorite; drawing - any kind really, with any thing, pen, pencil, marker, charcoal, color pencil, chalk, on paper and stone; shapes, abstract and real; scallops are something I draw a lot, and mixed media with charcoal and pen and pencil; I like micron pens best; Painting -with acrylic on fabric, most times, but also sometimes on canvas; plants - native plants outside in wild, and in my garden for food, and dig in earth, and walk with them, see them grow, know names and know about them, and talk with other people about them; wildflowers, most in spring; Walking-in woods and field and fen and marsh and around big talus slopes. Music - my guitar, and listen music; all kinds. Books - all kinds; I like scifi most, I think, I read some fantasy, some contemporary, some poetry, some history, some science, many many botany books; Cooking - I like try new things in the kitchen, and I like eating those things I make; Film - old black and white and silent and autor cinema and new techniques and film criticism, animation and live action, interesting stories, video essays about anything; Writing - I am not very good but I like writing poetry and nonfiction, stories about world how I see it.  Camera - my old digital, in cloudy day and rain in spring in dark forest stare up at flowers into clouds and empty branches and these, these are the best colors and shadows.

 

But if I let myself do all these things for some other reason more than I enjoy them and want do them, I can start feel it drains something important to me from them. That is not to say I can't do them for other things, but I enjoy them, that must come first. Or I will not love them more, I will love less, and feel sad when I do them. It becomes tedium, when I do these more for something other than enjoyment. Happen I should try every week for do these for me, not for something else, not for some other thing. I know really well I don't care, should not care what other people think, happen I dress and talk whatever, and let people think whatever. And I should do same about these, do how I want, do what I feel, express me, and let other people care or not. and let them think my English is broken or weird, I should not care, I should say, take me for what I love or let me go.

16. Gentianopsis virgata.

 

2020-10-04

The Distribution of Snow Trillium.

If we look at distribution of Trillium nivale, what patterns do we see? Happen before I posted about distribution patterns in Ohio, but what about in other states?

Above is the county range map for snow trillium from the USDA website. You can see T. nivale is only in the Midwest US and in a small area in Appalachia. The state with the most counties is Illinois, but some states only have one or two counties. There are no snow trillum in east Iowa, or in central Wisconsin, or in most of Michigan (or east Ohio, but I wrote about that before). Also, there is that big bow across Illinois, the weird diagonal in Indiana, the two or three metapopulations in Appalachia, and some other patterns.

We know most times snow trillium lives on limestone or dolomite talus, so does this map and a map for potential karst (calciferous cave) overlap?

Wow. Okay, this seems not random! You can see how in Ohio snow trillium is only in karst regions. The only counties in Michigan are along the limestone part of the Michigan Shield. The diagonal counties in Indiana follows the edge of a karst region. There is no karst in central Wisconsin, so the snow trillium counties are along the edges. And the Appalachian populations are only in areas with limestone bedrock outcrops. We can see how the western extent is limited by moisture; and maybe we can guess that the south extent is limited by temperature. But what about the northern extent? And what about the bow across Illinois, and those counties in west Minnesota? And how did snow trillium come to the very disjunct area in central Michigan?

If we overlay the county records on the extent of the glacial maximums, we can see that most populations are close to the margin of the Wisconsinan glacial maximum. Happen they are not perfect, but you can really see how this is true in Indiana and Ohio. We can also see that there were possible refugia from glaciers in the whole Quarternary (2.5 million years) in Missouri, the driftless region of Wisconsin, southern Indiana, Adams County in Ohio, and all of the Appalachian metapopulation. Trillium seeds are ant dispersed so happen they move slowly. And if in most areas they are moving along river corridors where bedrock is exposed, as I think happen in Ohio, then happen they can only move where the glacial till is cut. If we compare this map with the above karst map, we can also see there is not really any limestone bedrock in northern Wisconsin and most of Minnesota. So happen the northern limit is maybe from no calciferous bedrock and the slow movement keeps them out from the Upper Peninsula yet.

These questions continue:

1. Why are there all the populations in central Illinois where there is no karst topography (and seem no limestone bedrock)?
2. Why are there populations in west Minnesota and Iowa where there is no karst?
3. How did the disjunct Michigan populations get to completely glaciated Michigan with no karst from Ohio to the shield and no populations in northwest Ohio?


First, Illinois. People describe their habitat as on river banks and bluffs. If we look at the bedrock of Illinois, we can see most that area in the center the state is Pennsylvanian shale and sandstone, and only in west part of the state we see Mississippian limestone in surface bedrock. So happen we can think all the counties in that west part the state, and in the north where there is karst potential, are bedrocks where snow trillium can live. But what about all those counties in the middle of Pennsylvanian shale and sandstone?

When we look at the map in the link, we think, okay, there is not a lot limestone in Illinois. But...if we look at the strata map:

We see, yes, those surface rocks are siltstone, shale, and sandstone, BUT, under that is many many MANY feet perfect limestone layers. How close the surface this limestone? Not really far; close enough the rivers can cut into it. If we map the counties with snow trillium against the close to surface limestone:

That is not random. And more, happen you can see you never see records down in the south, where the sandstone and shale layers are very deep. So, happen no karst, but more than enough limestone in river valleys.

Second, Minnesota and Iowa. For Iowa we can see most all the surface bedrock in the west part of the state is Cretaceous sandstone or shale. But, we can see from the larger river valleys in the Bedrock map that Mississippian and Pennsylvanian limestone are close the surface here. So happen we can guess these are also on river cut slopes and bluffs. And also these should include populations in Lincoln County, North Dakota around the Big Sioux River.

Minnesota is weird.

According to Minnesota Wildflowers, there are populations on limestone river slopes in the southeast part of the state, where you think you find snow trillium because there is karst potential there. But the biggest populations are not there, they are in the prairie regions. On alluvial floodplain soils.




What.

This is not normal for snow trillium. In Ohio we only see them on limestone and dolomite talus and gravel. In Pennsylvania and West Virginia they are on outcrops. In Indiana they are on limestone outcrops. In Illinois they are on limestone bluffs and river slopes. This pattern is most everywhere we see snow trillium, but in southwest Minnesota, in the Minnesota River Prairie, happen they are in floodplain forests. I don't know if this is a normal thing for them that happen they do less now less than they did long time ago, or happen this is adventive habitat. But, most of the Minnesota River Prairie soils are "gray calcareous till", maybe from Ordovician dolomite pushed from bedrock to the East? I really don't know. It is alkaline enough for the snow trillium.

The last question is, how snow trillium come to central Michigan? The counties where you find snow trillium here are in a ring around the Michigan Basin. You can see that limestone ring on the karst map above. But the most close populations to these are 170 miles to the south in Indiana, or similar distance across Lake Michigan in Wisconsin. The Michigan populations are in the Grand River valley, and the North Indiana populations are in the Wabash River valley, and there is a continental divide (but not high) between them. There are no glacial refugia in Michigan, it was all covered with ice 30 thousand years ago.

There are really only two possible things. First, maybe there was a corridor 20 thousand years ago when the glaciers were receding, and the snow trillium followed it North. With time the intermediate populations went away. Happen this is a vicariance explanation. Second, if there was no corridor, it must long distance dispersal. By what? Bird?

But I think we can say some things: Snow trillium is always close to rivers, most times on slopes or talus or bluffs, rarely in alluvial soils of floodplains, where they can grow if the soil is alkaline enough. And because most refugia are close to large rivers, the Ohio River, Mississippi, Missouri, it was not difficult for them to disperse along limestone and dolomite layers up river when the glaciers receeded. Because their populations are really scattered, it say to me they were more widespread before and many those intermediate populations extripated when the hydrology or soil changed, or they had too much shade under thick canopy. I think before, because snow trillium is very small and it bloom in cold weather and have short life cycle, maybe it is similar alpine plants, but I have no more information for tell me that.