Panicum hemitomon (Hymenachne hemitomon)
Slime molds are famously clever microbes. Put one on one side of a maze and a food tidbit on the far side, and the slimer triumphantly solves the puzzle. Sort of. It slithers hither and thither confined by the maze, extending throughout. Eventually the widespread exploratory portion of the s.m. encounters the morsel, so the microbe concentrates on that pathway. Think of bees exploring for flowers, with successful foragers establishing a collective route to the sugary blossoms. That brings us to today’s “thing.” It is incredible how spreading rhizomatous marsh plants colonize and divide a marsh into single-species patches, maybe an exclusive acre of Knotted Spikerush here, a plue zone of pure Pickerelweed over there. That quilt doesn’t form overnight. Think of all the “exploring” by creeping rhizomes like giant slime molds: all the pushing, shoving, border disputing, poisoning, social climbing, and jostling until it is all sorted out into the patchwork we see from the boardwalk. Some patches have deeper water longer, or more nitrogen pollution, or muckier soil, giving different species patchy advantages according to their needs and tolerances,
Anyhow, I have a thing for cypress swamps, and enjoyed today a nice example of patchy life under the pond cypress, with a twist---a single species free of competitors. Astoundingly few non-woody plants grow on cypress swamp floors. Well yea, ferns, but ferns are ferns, and you could count the remaining herbaceous species on your toes. The floor of a cypress swamp is a fascinatingly narrow ecological filter: suffocating seasonal flooding, a thick layer of duff and semi-decayed needles, seasonal deep shade, and dry-season drying. In the swamp I explored today one species was the absolute ruler, but very unevenly. Maidencane Grass can stand up to the harsh swamp tortures, but across the swamp it ranges from dense expansive lawns, to modest clumps, to scattered individuals, to none.
Many here
Small clump
Scarce