Bouteloua Swamps of the Ailuropian Coast

The massive interior ocean of Apterra is the lifeblood of many of the planet's ecosystems. Rare winds blowing east from the sea support the ephemeral desert ecosystems of Loxodia, while further south the rains promote a highly productive prairie along Abeli's north coast. Nowhere sees a greater benefit from this ocean, however, than the eastern shores of Ailuropia. Here, gentle winds blow moisture inland, permitting the growth of dense temperate grasslands. It is here that the first rainforests are poised to emerge not too long from now, before even the tropics see trees evolve. For now, though, the herbaceous plants reign supreme, forming a unique environment all their own.

The first of the grasses we'll look at here are descendants of the basket-shaped forms we saw 80,000 years ago. Here, their stems have been compressed to the point they are no longer externally visible. While over a dozen species in this group inhabit this land, the most dominant ones fall into two ecological niches. One clade has broadened its leaves, resulting in a flat rosette that splays out across the surface of shallow waters. Their inability to colonize deeper regions is mainly due to the fact that their seeds require solid ground to germinate, thus only allowing them to live in patches of swamp that occasionally dry out. This large, flat disc of leaves is quite efficient in the absence of overstory trees; indeed, members of this group form monocultures wherever conditions allow them to grow.

Its close relatives have gone in a very different direction. Their leaves are long and needle-like, pointing skywards and reaching heights of up to 2 meters. Their growth habits allow them to outcompete traditional grasses of similar heights, for they do not need to waste energy growing stems above the ground. They can grow individual leaves far faster than their cousins can grow their tough stems, and they form a monoculture of their own wherever the ground is high enough to remain permanently above the waterline. They still require access to a noninterrupted source of moisture and therefore cannot survive at elevations where their roots don't reach the water table. In this narrow band, generally stretching from 2-5 meters above the water's surface, they compose up to 95% of floral biomass. 

There is a bit more diversity on the hills. Rat-reliant grasses of all shapes and sizes dot these areas; as their dispersers prefer a variety of seeds in their stockpiles, they inadvertently promote biodiversity in their habitats. Rodent colonies, in fact, are responsible for building many of the islands here, piling up debris and organic matter to ensure their nests remain sufficiently high and dry while their young are most vulnerable. 

Rats, however, do not have a monopoly on buffalograss mutualism in this environment. Almost as widespread as the rat-grasses are the woodlouse-grasses, who with their sweet nectar encourage their partners to rid them of pests and mold outbreaks. Further innovation has taken place within this group since we last saw them; their symbiotes are now immune to their toxins, allowing the plants to produce ever-greater amounts of poison to dissuade any overzealous parasites or grazers. Indeed, when the friendly pill bugs drink the grasses' secretions, they take on their poisonous properties, granting them a previously-unprecedented level of safety from the local rat and kiwi populations. In terms of physical structure, the ten or so species of woodlouse-grass distributed across the swamps have an appearance opposite that of their monoculture-forming relatives. Their stalks are tall, towering above their islands to a height of over three meters, and bare, showing the scars where old leaves once attached. At their tops, a cluster of long, flowing blades emerges. At the end of the growing season, these all drop off, leaving only the bare stem to weather the coming winter. When spring comes, the plant enters a phase of rapid stem growth, adding three dozen centimeters or more to its height, then begins sprouting a fresh whorl of leaves, beginning the cycle anew.

These are the first of the Apterran palm-grasses, a group with the potential to become the first true trees the planet will ever see. The diverse descendants of those living in this region will be a major worldwide player before the sun sets on the Muricene.