This fern specimen of rock polypody (Polypodium virginianum) was collected at Roaring Run, Apollo, southwestern Pennsylvania by Otto and Grace Jennings on May 8, 1915 AND by me, Bonnie Isaac, and Cierra Snyder 102 years later!

Roaring Run is a must visit place! Now the site of a nice trails to trails bike/hiking trail, among other trails.  Among the most Trillium I've ever seen in one location is here!  Land is stewarded and made accessible to the public by the Roaring Run Watershed Association.

Otto and Grace Jennings were at the site in 1915 during a field trip with the Botanical Society of Western Pennsylvania, which is one of the oldest botanical clubs in North America and remains active today. They even still go to Roaring Run for field trips every so many years!

You can read more about that field trip here!  It's a fun read. 

We also have some notes from Jennings from their 1915 visit to the site, including locations of American chestnut. I hope to go back and recreate those notes one of these days. It's been on my to do list every spring for the past five years! Soon.

We (re)collected at this site in 2017 as part of a larger, long term collecting plan for the Carnegie Museum. We've identified sites across the region with historic collections, with the goal of returning and (re)collecting. We try to go at the same calendar date, to enable comparisons (is it blooming at the same time?) and in the same locations as much as possible.  This approach will allow for us and future researchers to make strong comparisons across time.  What species were seen in 1915 that weren't in 2017?  What species were NOT seen in 1915, that are common today?  (cough* knotweed *cough cough)

This collection resulted in some comparisons on exhibit at the museum as part of the We Are Nature exhibition that opened in fall 2017, showing impacts of climate change on plants by highlighting visual differences in plant phenology over time with paired herbarium speicmens collected on same calendar date, same location, but decades apart.

This specimen of flowering dogwood (Cornus florida...or I mean Benthamidia florida?) was collected by Leroy Henry on April 22, 1946 near Listonburg, in the mountains of Somerset county Pennsylvania. 

In the summer, this species is not particularly remarkable and easy to miss.  But this time of year, mid April into May, it is a species that's hard to miss.  It's big showy flowers that emerge before its leaves fully expand, and before most other trees in the our forest have a full flush of leaves. On a bright sunny spring day, you'll notice this species from afar, decorating the hillsides and forests. It is one of those species that you didn't even realize was there in such numbers in another season.

Upon closer inspection, you'll see the flower "petals" aren't actually petals, but modified leaves called bracts. Give the flowers a close look, and you'll see the center of the flower head is actually composed of many small flowers, with its pollen producing anthers.

There are some taxonomic naming controversies in dogwoods. Perhaps you learned the species by the scientific name Cornus florida.  Well, many still call it that, but it is increasingly being realized that the genus Cornus would be better separated into multiple genera because of their estimated divergence times from a common ancestor. In other words, the groups diverged and split into species groups long enough ago that some biologists suggest they should be treated as separated genera. The "big-bracted" dogwoods, like this species, is therefore now placed in the genus Benthamidia according to recent treatments, such as the Flora of the Southeastern US.  Name changes like this are exciting and remind us that our understanding of life is always updating as we learn. So I tend to embrace it. It is a fun conversation topic. And something to complain about!

(No hike is complete without someone saying something along the lines of: "When I learned this plant is was called XXX. It will always be that to me! Why do "they" keep changing names?!")

And if you miss the species in the spring, it is also a fall show stopper with brilliant red foliage.

And you can also see it anytime of year in full bloom in the spring diorama in Botany Hall at the Carnegie Museum!

Ahhh, trillium!  Every year, I just can't get enough. Just one more picture.  Before they fade away for the year.

These two specimens were collected on April 15, 2006 by Loree Speedy in Fayette County, Pennsylvania along the Monongahela River.  Loree is an active botanist in the region, collected many specimens over the years that are in the CM herbarium, and serves as the Secretary of the Botanical Society of Western PA.

These specimens are Trillium erectum, also known at red trillium, wakerobin, or even "stinking benjamin," among other names. It is one of several trillium species found in Pennsylvania.  The two most common species in SW Pennsylvania are (white or large-flowered trillium) and this species, red trillium (Trillium erectum).  You can often find them in the same forest, co-occurring together.  But there also seems to be some population separation, with areas of the forest being more one species, while another area of forest is more the other species.  Maybe...I'm speculating a bit here.

Another fun speculation, that needs to be tested, is the observation that red trillium comes in many forms, with some incredible variation.  The most striking is the petal color, which can range from white to cream to deep red to even yellow.  In our region, you'll often find a population that is mostly one color, but with a few straggling indiivudals of another color (if you look hard enough!).  It is common, for instance, to find a population that is nearly entirely white petaled, with hundreds of plants, but with one stray red petaled plant. What's up with that?!  

Loree collected in the same location both the red petaled and white petaled form.

You'll also see some striking variation in the pedicel, the stem that connects the flower to the "leaves" of three.  It sometimes droops below the "leaves" while other times well above the leaves.

It can be called "stinking benjamin" because it has a faint wet dog odor. (I don't know who this Benjamin was...but an interesting legacy to have!) Though, there seems to be variation in the scent as well!

This species isn't quite a spring "ephemeral" because although it blooms early, its leaves persist into summer.  We have done and are doing some fun research with this species, ranging from the impact of deer and invasive garlic mustard (deer love it; garlic mustard disrupts its symbiotic relationship with belowground fungi) to its coloration in summer (some of the plants turn red in summer as they go dormant...but why?!).  

There is so much beauty in trillium. And so much wonder and curiosity to explore.  

[white petaled form of] red trillium (Trillium erectum) in Plum Borough, Pennsylvania April, 13, 2026.

Ok, I'm going to break the rules a bit here. This specimens may not be collected on this day, but it sure has the vibes of the day.  So, please forgive me.

This specimen of white clover (Trifolium repens) was collected by my family and me on May 26, 2024 on a lovely afternoon visit to the playground at Legion Keener Park in Latrobe, PA.

My wife actually was first to notice. Not just one, but MANY, four-leaf clovers. The covered the lawn. I can't say I've seen that before. It was fun to explore the lawn, finding as many as we could, hidden among the three-leaf clovers and grass. It was a lucky day. 

I didn't have my plant press with me.  But I used my son's book to press the leaves.  He had to look out the window on the way home, instead of his normal reading.

I wonder if the lawn at this park has four-leaf clovers every year?  I'll have to go back and look!

I've been meaning to do a survey to see how many four-leaf clovers exist in herbarium collections around the world. Carnegie Museum has at least a few, including one from 1763!  There's a lot more to post on this. I might get my act together in time for next St. Paddy's Day for that follow up post. 

​

This specimen of shining clubmoss (Huperzia lucidula) was collected by Maximilian G. Duman near the campus of St. Vincent College.  It isn't dated, but his collector number and context clues suggestion 1979.  And for the sake of the blog, let's just go with the date January 28, 1978: 47 years ago.  It is an evergreen species, so it is reasonable.

Anyway, what's more timely for January 28 is that today marks the 63rd anniversary of the devastating fire at the campus of Saint Vincent College. Much like today, as Pittsburgh digs out of a winter storm from the weekend, the region was similarly hit with a blizzard and below zero degree F temperatures. A fire started that destroyed campus buildings, but perhaps most devastating...the Saint Vincent College Herbarium went up in flames.

Saint Vincent College is located in Latrobe, Pennsylvania - about an hours drive from Pittsburgh nestled in the Laurel Highlands of Pennsylvania.  Saint Vincent College was founded in 1846 (!) and is a private Catholic and Benedictine college boasting a well rounded liberal arts education.

Back in 1963, the campus president was no other than the collector of this specimen -- Father Maximilian Duman (1906-1990).  Duman was also a botanist, a world expert specializing in arctic plants (especially Carex) earning him the nickname of the "Arctic Priest."  It is said that Duman largely built the Saint Vincent College Herbarium.  His life's work. Up in flames.  I can only imagine the devastation.

But Duman re-built the collection from the ground up. And, in 1983, Father Duman gifted the "new" ca. 10,000 specimen strong Saint Vincent herbarium to Carnegie Museum of Natural History, where it would be integrated into the CM herbarium. And where it resides today.

With a college so old (especially for the mountains of western Pennsylvania), it also makes you wonder: what specimens were lost in the 1963 fire?  How large was the collection?  I imagine there were some incredible specimens, both historically and scientific.

We perhaps have some limited insight we can glean from other collections.  Father Duman was a prolific collector and had established a national reputation. Today, >4,000 specimens collected by him come up in a simple search on Mid Atlantic Herbaria Consortium, spread across more than a dozen herbaria.  Upon closer look, you can find specimens collected before the fire, such as this one at Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel (PH). Perhaps these were duplicates, with its partner duplicate burned to ash in 1963. 

His collection was critical in a recent project on the Lady Franklin Bay Expedition, which includes a bound herbarium that he transferred to CM in 1983. Perhaps he had this collection in his office and it was spared from the flames?  

It makes you wonder what other collections have been lost over the years. And reminds us the value of digitization and of duplicates spread across multiple collections.

I'll have to do some more digging and research on LAT and Duman.  

Newspaper headline after the 1963 fire. Latrobe Bulletin, a local newspaper that continues today.

This specimen of striped maple (Acer pensylvanicum) was collected from September 9-12, 1907 by Otto Jennings (1887-1964), longtime curator at Carnegie Museum.  This branch was collected at "J.R. Mellon's Estate Rachelwood, New Florence," Westmoreland County in southwestern Pennsylvania. "Rachelwood" was a "5000 acre paradise" named after Rachel Mellon (Rachel Hughey Larimer). It was the summer estate of James Ross Mellon (1846-1934) and Rachel Mellon 1847-1919). James R. Mellon was a prominent member of the famous Mellon family, son of patriarch Judge Thomas Mellon. Upon James' death in 1934, the estate, which included a large mansion boasting 30 rooms, was inherited by their children. The property was largely unused for many years, until purchased by James and Rachel's nephew, Richard King Mellon in 1947 to be established as the Rachelwood Wildlife Research Preserve. 

There are currently 173 specimens collected at "Rachelwood", searchable here. 

Otto Jennings collected at Rachelwood at least a few times. During this collection, perhaps he stayed a few days, hence his label listing Sept. 9-12 rather than a specific day. It also reflects different uses of specimens. Most specimens today include a specific date of collection rather than a date range, which is critical for phenological studies. Such uses of specimen data were probably not on the mind of Jennings at the time.

The reach of the Mellon family continues today, both in the region and well beyond. Andrew W. Mellon Foundation funded the JSTOR Plants project (now JSTOR Global Plants), one of the earliers large scale herbarium digitization projects which funded the digitization of specimens (primarily type specimens) at dozens of herbaria aroudn the world (including Carnegie Museum). The greater Mellon family has a strong legacy in the Ligonier area in Pennsylvania, with the museum's field station Powdermill Nature Reserve, with the main tract first being acquired as a gift from Richard King Mellon in 1956.  Very nearby is Penguin Court, the former estate of Richard Mellon Scaife's family, donated to and now stewarded as a nature sanctuary by the Brandywine Conservancy.  And the Mellon family connections go on and on, including this very specimen.  

Striped maple (Acer pensylvanicum) photographed on May 10 2024 at nearby Penguin Court during a collecting trip.

It may be winter in Pittsburgh, but it is summer somewhere! This grass specimen was collected in January 1938 by A.A. Obermeyer in Zimbabwe. The accepted name of the species (according to Plants of the World Online) is Tetrapogon roxburghiana, given a new combination in 2015 (determined to be in a different genus through molecular data) from a former name written on the label in the image above (Chloris roxburghiana).  The species is found in seasonally dry tropical environments of East Africa to India. Interestingly, the holotype (the specimen that defines the species) is not actually a herbarium specimens, but a painting from William Roxburgh (1751-1815), a British botanist who described species in India. The use of drawings and paintings is more common in older holotypes and species descriptions.

Thanks to funding from the National Science Foundation, you can expect to see more digitized specimens collected in Africa from CM herbarium.

Learn more about the project, and the network of herbaria involved, HERE.

This specimen of winterberry (Ilex verticillata) was collected by L.R. Albright on October 30, 1935 at “County Home Farm” in Somerset county, Pennsylvania.  Feeling the vibes of fall, I was scrolling through the database for a nice fall specimen, perhaps one with bright red leaves or vibrant berries. Winterberry fits the bill. I download the image…and it’s a stick!  Not quite what I imagined, but interesting nonetheless.

I don’t really know the story of this specimen or collector without doing more digging. This is the only specimen in the Carnegie Museum herbarium from this collector. Why did L.R. Albright collect this piece of wood? Based on the thickness of the wood, it must have been quite a large shrub. Surely a winterberry this size also had spectacular shiny red berries lining the stems.  The berries remain abundant along the stems through winter, providing a nice food source for birds.
 
Some herbaria have incredible wood collections. This type of herbarium even has a fun name – a xylarium. 
 
The Carnegie Museum herbarium does not have a big wood collection, but there are some unusual specimens of wood like this one that is (see past post on sassafras).  CM also has a small reference wood collection consisting of labeled blocks of wood (identified but with no other data such as where each block was collected, unfortunately). Wood specimens are not mounted to herbarium sheets in the normal fashion but instead stored in the “fruit collection,” where all three dimensional and bulky specimens are curated.
 
So not quite the beautiful fall berries I was expecting, but beautifully intriguing nonetheless.
 
See the digital specimen record here: https://midatlanticherbaria.org/portal/collections/list.php?db=328&collector=albright

Below: Winterberry at my house, Oct 30 2024.

This specimen of hairy Solomon’s seal (Polygonatum pubescens) was collected on October 23, 1915 in a ravine in Coraopolis, Pennsylvania (just west of Pittsburgh) by Otto Jennings, longtime botany curator and University of Pittsburgh biology professor. 

This specimen isn’t exactly a thing of beauty, but that depends who you ask! Crumpled brown leaves, with a few fruits barely hanging on. The flowers and fruits of this species that dangle in pairs below the plant are not to be missed, though they are easy to overlook. The fruits do not seem to hang on for long, and it is common to see just the empty pedicels, leaving you to only imagine where the flowers once were.  A spring-emerging species, but as this specimen shows, some individuals can linger fairly late into fall.  A 2024 study in American Journal of Botany led by student Abby Yancy and postdoc Dr. Ben Lee at the museum used observations from iNaturalist to show that many species that we might think as short-lived spring “ephemerals” persist later into summer and even fall.
 
Despite its crinkly leaf appearance, this specimen importantly documents the species’ persistence through the fall.  Hairy Solomon’s seal is a spring-blooming herbaceous species, common in the understory in the temperate forests of eastern North America.  It was not until quite a few years, that I realized there are two similar-looking common species in Pennsylvania: “hairy” Solomon’s seal (Polygonatum pubescens) and Solomon’s seal (Polygonatum biflorum).  As the name suggests, one key difference is the pubescence (hairs) on the underside of the leaves.  The hairs can be seen with the naked eye (or tongue, as some botanists might do…but lick plants at your own risk!).
 
As I started paying attention, it seems hairy Solomon’s seal is the more common encounter, at least in southwestern Pennsylvania.
 
This time of year we are often drawn to the spectacular bright fall colors of trees or the blooms of fall asters.  But on occasion, you can find a spring-blooming wildflower hanging on into fall. There is a certain joy in such finds.  A last reminder until next spring.
 

This specimen of common witch hazel (Hamamelis virginiana) was collected in January 1923 in Beaver County, Pennsylvania "East of Ambridge" by H.W. Graham.  Herbert W. Graham (1905-2009) was an "Assistant" in Botany at the Carnegie Museum from 1925-1929 while he was a student at the University of Pittsburgh who later became an oceanographer at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution. During his time at the museum, he collected many specimens, often with his brother, Edward H. Graham, who was also an Assistant in Botany, later curator (1931-1937) and later, a well known conservationist with the US Department of Agriculture.  The Graham brothers went on expeditions to the Sonoran desert in the late 1920s, collecting specimens and information that was used to create the desert diorama that remains in the museum's Botany Hall today.

This specimen has a "bits and pieces" feel to it, but shows what the plant looks like in winter, with branches, buds, a leaf, and even including a nice cross section cut out of the stem. The leaf is in great shape, which makes me question whether the leaf was truly was collected in January, when the leaves are usually dry and crumbled from the wrath of winter. 

The specimen was simply collected in "January 1923" with no note on the day of year.  I feel that coming off a holiday break (what day is it?).  But more seriously, it reminds us that many specimens of the past were collected for different purposes with many of their uses today unanticipated.  For instance, collectors today would certainly record the calendar date of collection, valued just as much as information on the location it was collected, as scientists routinely use specimens to date information to understand the seasonal timing of leafing, flowering, and fruiting with changing environmental conditions over time.

The leaf is a nice touch, too.  It indicates that at least some leaves were still around in the winter of 1923, and it is quite possible they were even still connected to the stem.  Though this species is deciduous (drops its leaves seasonally), common witch hazel has been known to sometimes hang onto some dead leaves on branches through winter.  This phenomenon is known as "marcescence."  Why this happens isn't fully known.  Read more here: https://doi.org/10.1002/ecs2.4410 

You can find this specimen and 588 others of the species in the Carnegie Museum herbarium here: ​https://midatlanticherbaria.org/portal/collections/list.php?db=328&includecult=1&taxa=Hamamelis virginiana&usethes=1&taxontype=2 

Above: Witch hazel exhibiting marcescence, with last year's leaves still attached in early spring (photo taken March 23 2021 at Powdermill Nature Reserve)

Below: Witch hazel's magnificent autumn blooms. Unlike many woody plants in our region that bloom in spring as leaves are emerging, this species blooms in fall, as its leaves are dropping! (photo taken Oct 29 2022 in New Kensington, PA)