Mason Heberling

(Not quite yet) flowering dogwood
 
This specimen of flowering dogwood (Cornus florida) was collected on January 21, 1906 in Fern Hollow,  Frick Park, Pittsburgh by Otto Jennings.  The specimen was collected 13 years before Frick Park became a city park, bequeathed by the well-known industrialist Henry Clay Frick after his death.  Otto Jennings was an influential botanist in western Pennsylvania, serving as curator at the museum for many years.
 
I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again -  specimens without leaves are cool!  Why did Jennings collect this specimen?
 
Flowering dogwood has distinctively big flower buds through the winter.  The flower is in there, remaining dormant, waiting to blossom in the spring.  Like many other woody species in our area, the leaf and flower buds are pre-formed  by the previous fall.  They remain dormant until they reach their chilling requirement (number  of cold  days), the air temperature  warms,  and/or the days get longer (in plants, this is called “photoperiod”).   Different species have different requirements, with some species being more conservative than others to prevent premature leaf out in the middle of winter.
 
Only about two and half more months until flowering dogwood awakes in western Pennsylvania. In the meantime, you can admire the species in the spring diorama in Botany Hall, or look for their buds outside.

Find this specimen and more here: http://midatlanticherbaria.org/portal/collections/list.php?db=all&catnum=CM073964&othercatnum=1
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From cultivation to invasion: a common route
 
This specimen of princess tree (Paulownia tomentosa) was collected on January 13, 1937 in Schenley Park, Pittsburgh by R.J. Templeton and J.R. Steck.  Thought subtle, note the heading on the label “Flora of Cultivation.”  This header suggests that this tree was planted in the park, rather than naturally occurring on its own.
 
Princess tree has a remarkable presence – large wide leaves larger than your face (though you can’t see that in this winter collected specimen) and very showy, fragrant flowers that burst from large buds in the spring.  Signs of the flowers/fruits remain obvious on the branches year round.
 
Princess tree is a common urban weedy tree that is not native to Pennsylvania or the United States.  Rather, it is native to Central and Western China.  It was brought to Europe in the 1830s (and then to the US) by the Dutch East India Company, with many historical medicinal and ornamental uses, as well as its wood. The tree was named after a Romanov princess, the Grand Duchess Anna Pavlovna.
 
Princess tree can still be found in Schenley Park.  It is especially noticeable, with its flowers at eye level, as you walk or drive across the bridge from the museum to Phipps Conservatory (Schenley bridge). 
 
Listed as invasive by the state, Princess tree should not be planted in Pennsylvania.  It grows quickly and actively spreads beyond its planting, into roadsides, streams, and disturbed forests with potential to displace native plants.
 
Find this specimen and more here: http://midatlanticherbaria.org/portal/collections/list.php?db=all&catnum=CM120710&othercatnum=1

 Now this is a festive specimen!

This specimen of Polystichum acrostichoides, commonly known as Christmas fern, was collected on December 25, 2008 in the woods in Savage, Maryland by Wayne Longbottom.  I assume the collector was also singing carols while putting this specimen in the plant press.  Christmas fern is a common fern in our woods and fairly easy to recognize. Its name comes from the fact that it is an evergreen perennial, with green fronds even in the winter, including Christmas.  
 
 
Find this specimen and more here:
http://midatlanticherbaria.org/portal/collections/list.php?db=all&catnum=CM537982&othercatnum=1

Happy Thanksgiving! And what’s screams fall more than pumpkin?
 
And this specimen isn’t just any specimen – it is the museum’s first official Anthropocene collection. A 2,090.5 pound squash, in fact. The Anthropocene, or Age of Humanity, is the proposed current time period marked by pervasive and long-term human impact on the Earth’s systems. The mark of human influence is now so great, that the effects will be present in the geological record millions of years from now. The Anthropocene is a core focus for the museum, drawing together many areas of research, education, and scholarship. These Anthropocene initiatives were launched, in part, through the 2017-2018 exhibition We Are Nature: Living in the Anthropocene. At the time of the exhibition’s opening, a gigantic squash was on display in the museum’s courtyard. This 2,090.5 pound pumpkin is a striking visual of the influence of humans on plant evolution in the Anthropocene.
 
But these huge pumpkins are not easy to grow.  This specimen was from a plant grown in Ellwood City, PA by Dave and Carol Stelts. When they came to the museum to harvest seeds for next year, Bonnie Isaac, Collection Manager of Botany, collected a specimen for the herbarium. As you might guess, even the pieces don’t fit nicely on a typical herbarium sheet, but instead stored in the 3D fruit collection.
 
Species in the genus Cucurbita (including pumpkins, gourds, squashes) were domesticated by humans in North America about 10,000 years ago.  That is, they were cultivated in gardens, likely first selected for the use of their durable rinds (anthropological evidence for gourds used as containers for drinking) and later as a food source. Most Cucurbita species went extinct around this time, coinciding with the extinction of large mammals that these species relied upon to spread their seeds.  Their fruits were unpalatable to the smaller herbivores that did not go extinct. Ironically, it is human hunters, paired with climate change, that led to the extinction of large herbivores in North America.  Modern day pumpkins have adapted to the Anthropocene.
 
This Anthropocene specimen isn’t your Halloween jack-o-lantern or pie pumpkin, which is Cucurbita pepo, but the related Cucurbita maxima, which can be grown to enormous sizes with skill and effort.
 
Find this specimen and more here: http://midatlanticherbaria.org/portal/collections/list.php?db=328&catnum=CM312111&othercatnum=1

Cranberries are a holiday staple. Fresh or canned, the choice is yours. But where do they come from? 
 
The cranberry on your table is most likely the American cranberry (Vaccinium macrocarpon), a short trailing evergreen shrub native. The species is native to northeastern/northcentral North America. They are grown commercially in human-made ponds (often called cranberry bogs) that are well irrigated.  They are harvested in two ways.   If the fruit is used for juices, sauces, or  dried, the ponds are flooded in the fall for harvesting (the fruit floats).  For use  as fresh cranberries,  the fruit is harvest dry.
 
Check out this cool specimen of cranberry, collected by Millie Turner in 1928 between Saxonburg and Freeport, Pennsylvania near Cypher farm.  Cypher farm still exists today,  operated by the same family  for over 100 years.
 
What is especially neat about this specimen is a note attached that reads “...80 ten quart  pails of these berries were picked at one time from  this bog.”
 

Now that’s a lot of cranberry sauce!  
 
Find this specimen and more cranberries here: 
​ http://midatlanticherbaria.org/portal/collections/list.php?db=328&taxa=Vaccinium+macrocarpon&usethes=1&taxontype=2

Look carefully in the fall diorama of a bog in northwestern Pennsylvania in the Hall of Botany to see cranberries as they’d appear in the wild.

Which hazel? This one!
 
Witch hazel (Hamamelis virginiana) is such a cool species for many reasons, but especially because of its unique flowering phenology. Witch hazel has striking yellow flowers in the fall, blooming as the leaves drop. Check out this flowering specimen collected in the back of Allegheny Cemetery (Pittsburgh) on November 16, 1884 by John Shafer, who would later be the first custodian of the Carnegie Museum herbarium (1897-1904) before moving to the New York Botanical Garden. Shafer graduated from the Pittsburgh
School of Pharmacy at the age of 18 (now part of University of Pittsburgh) and many of the oldest specimens collected in and around Pittsburgh were collected by him.  Shafer was influential in the early growth of the Carnegie  Museum herbarium, including facilitating donations of specimens dating back to early 1800s and donating his own collection.  You can see from this label that this specimen was from the herbarium of the Botanical Society of Western Pennsylvania (which became part of the Carnegie Museum herbarium).
 
Find this specimen and more here: http://midatlanticherbaria.org/portal/collections/individual/index.php?occid=12026676&clid=0

Who needs leaves?
 
This red maple (Acer rubrum) specimen was collected on November 13, 1915 by former Carnegie Museum curator Otto Jennings on a rocky back north of Finleyville, Pennsylvania.
 
Something about herbarium specimens that are just branches, with no leaves or flowers.  But the flowers and leaves are there…well, sort of.  
 
Check out the nice buds on this specimen. Many deciduous tree species in temperate areas (like Pennsylvania) have “preformed” buds.  These buds are produced in the summer, packed with leave and/or flower tissue. You can see these buds swell during the winter in preparation for budburst.  Then when the conditions are right (like temperature and chilling time), the plant is ready to go! The cells don’t need to be made, and spring budburst is all about expansion.

It is fun to think of what is inside these buds.  There is a lot going on in there. Keep an eye on them on the trees in your neck of the woods. Many are rearing to go, riding out the winter.
 
Find this specimen and search for more here.

A bittersweet specimen, in more ways than one...  

This specimen of American bittersweet (Celastrus scandens) is the most recent record of the species in Allegheny county, Pennsylvania.  It was collected on November 11, 1940 by Ellen Mason on "railroad property" in Thornburg, just west of the city of Pittsburgh. 

Can American bittersweet be found in Allegheny county?  It has largely been taken over by the invasive Oriental bittersweet from East Asia. The main differences between the two species are leaf shape (invasive species has more rounded leaves, native species are more elongated) and fruit (invasive species has fruit all along base of many leaves, whereas the native species has clusters of fruit at the end of each branch, as seen in this specimen).  

Oriental bittersweet (Celastrus orbiculatus) really didn't become prevalent in our area until a few decades ago.  But it sure it prevalent now.  It is also said to hybridize with the native American bittersweet, probably further swamping out the native.

American bittersweet has beautiful orange/red fruits that hang on into fall/winter long after their leaves have dropped.

Keep a look out for American bittersweet.

Well, that’s kinda weird!
These red maple (Acer rubrum) leaves were collected by Dorothy Pearth on November 6,  1959 at  Coles Summit in Huntingdon county, Pennsylvania. Dorothy Pearth (1914-1996) was a curator at the Carnegie Museum. She made two special notes on the label: “with exceptionally long petioles” and “many leaves with very long petioles.” (Petioles are the stalks that connects leaf to stem)
 
Herbarium data are often considered “biased.” All data collected haphazardly or by many different people across centuries with different intended purposes undoubtedly skew reality to some extent, depending on the research question.  It is rightfully something to consider when using specimens in research. Taxonomic bias (what species are collected), geographic bias (where specimens are collected – more often near roads, for example), temporal bias (high collection effort in some years), or collector bias (“that guy never collects grasses”) are just a few to consider. But just because “bias” may exist doesn’t mean it can’t be accounted for or the data are somehow useless.   Far from it!
 
In fact, bias can be a great thing! We want those “odd” specimens documented because they often tell us something important and new.  Maybe that specimen flowering in fall that normally flowers in summer is a sign of climate change.  Maybe that unfamiliar species is the first record of an introduced species that may  become invasive in the region.  Maybe that specimen that resembles species X, but has really huge leaves, is a new species  unknown to science!  Many undetermined specimens (that  is, those  that are identified to species)  are collected  for that very reason.  Many new species are first realized after someone  points out  that this specimen is “weird.” 
 
A recent paper in the American Journal of Botany (Pearson & Mast, 2019) surveyed collectors and search specimen records that include “outlier terms” – in other words, additional notes on the label written by the collector to point out something unusual about the specimen.  They found that this practice of pointing out outliers is an important route to detect early changes in the Anthropocene (the age of humanity).  Unusual specimens are important sentinels, bringing our attention to critical biological changes that may otherwise be overlooked in an era of rapid biological change.
 
Find this long-petioled red maple specimen online here: midatlanticherbaria.org/portal/collections/individual/index.php?occid=12233287&clid=0
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This specimen of eastern hemlock (Tsuga canadensis) was collected by former Carnegie Museum botany curator Sue Thompson on November 3, 1984 in Somerset County.  Not only was this specimen collected in the highest point in Pennsylvania (Mt. Davis, 3,213 ft), but the species is also the official state tree of Pennsylvania.  How’s that for your state trivia!?! 
 
And this is a nice-looking specimen! Hemlock is a challenging species for the herbarium.  It is notorious for shedding all of its needles when dried.  Many specimens are just sticks with all the fallen needles shoved into an envelope.
 
Eastern hemlock (Tsuga canadensis) is a culturally and biologically important species.  A keystone dominant species found across many eastern North American forests, hemlock serves as important habitat to many birds, among other species.  Its leaves are evergreen and remarkable in casting some of the deepest shade, making the understory below it distinct.  Many species are adapted to “hemlock-hardwood forests.”  It provides food, shelter, and impacts nutrient and water cycles.  It is a late-successional tree, meaning its presence often indicates older, more intact forests.
 
Unfortunately, this species is in decline across its range, and it may become the “next American chestnut” so to speak.  Hemlock is attacked by an introduced, invasive insect – the hemlock wooly adelgid (Adelges tsugae).  The sap-sucking bug was accidentally introduced from its native East Asia, spreading to eastern hemlocks in the 1950s. First in the southern US, the impacts of the adelgid are clear in Great Smokey National Park, with hemlock stands wiped out and only the dead trunks and branches.  The insect is fairly new to western Pennsylvania, only found in our region relatively recently and not yet fully spread.  Check the undersides of hemlock needles for hemlock wooly adelgid.  If tree is infected, you’ll see their distinctive white cotton-like egg sacs.
 
As forest pests like the hemlock wooly adelgid spread and affect our forests, herbarium specimens are critical, serving as baseline data for species distributions and effects on other species through time and across sites.
 
Find this specimen online here: http://midatlanticherbaria.org/portal/collections/individual/index.php?occid=11739325