Photo by Abrahami licensed under CC BY-SA 2.5

I love being humbled by plant ID. Confusion usually means I am going to end up learning something new. This happened quite recently during a trip through The Morton Arboretum. Admittedly trees are not my forte but I had spotted something that seemed off and needed further inspection. I was greeted by a small tree with leaves that screamed "birch family" (Betulaceae) yet they were opposite. Members of the birch family should have alternately arranged leaves. What the heck was I looking at?

It didn't take long for me to find the ID tag. As a plant obsessed person, the information on the tag gave me quite the thrill. What I was looking at was possible the strangest maple on the planet. This, my friends, was my first introduction to Acer carpinifolium a.k.a the hornbeam maple.

Photo (c)2006 Derek Ramsey (Ram-Man) licensed under CC BY-SA 2.5

The hornbeam maple is endemic to Japan where it can be found growing in mountainous woodlands and alongside streams. Maxing out around 30 feet (9 m) in height, the hornbeam maple is by no means a large tree. It would appear that it has a similar place in its native ecology as other smaller understory maples do here in North America. It blooms in spring and its fruits are the typical samaras one comes to expect from the genus.

It probably goes without saying that the thing I find most fascinating about the hornbeam maple are its leaves. As both its common and scientific names tell you, they more closely resemble that of a hornbeam (Carpinus spp.) than a maple. Unlike the lobed, palmately veined leaves of its cousins, the hornbeam maple produces simple, unlobed leaves with pinnate venation and serrated margins. They challenge everything I have come to expect out of a maple. Indeed, the hornbeam maple is one of only a handful of species in the genus Acer that break the mold for leaf shape. However, compared to the rest, I think its safe to say that the hornbeam maple is the most aberrant of them all.

Photo by Qwert1234 licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0

Not a lot of phylogenetic work has been done on the relationship between the hornbeam maple and the rest of its Acer cousins. At least one study suggests that it is most closely related to the mountain maple of neartheastern North America. More scrutiny will be needed before anyone can make this claim with certainty. Still, from an anecdotal standpoint, it seems like a reasonable leap to make considering just how shallow the lobes are on mountain maple leaves.

Regardless of who it is related to, running into this tree was truly a thrilling experience. I love it when species challenge long held expectations of large groups of plants. Hornbeam maple has gone from a place of complete mystery to me to being one of my favorite maples of all time. I hope you too will get a chance to meet this species if you haven't already!

Photo Credits: [1] [2] [3]

Further Reading: [1] [2]

Photo by Scott Zona licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0

Hearing the word "mite" as a gardener instantly makes me think of pests such as spider mites. This is not fair. The family to which mites belong (Acari) is highly varied and contains many beneficial species. Many mites are important predators at the micro scale. Some are fungivorous, eating potentially harmful species of fungi. Whereas this may be lost on the majority of us humans, it is certainly not lost on many species of plants. In fact, the relationship between some plants and mites is so strong that these plants go as far as to provide them with a sort of home.

Photo by Jsarratt licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0

Domatia are specialized structures that are produced by plants to house arthropods. A lot of different plant species produce domatia but not all of them are readily apparent to us. For instance, many trees and vines such as red oak (Quercus rubra), sugar maples (Acer saccharum), black cherries (Prunus serotina), and many species of grape (Vitis spp.) produce tiny domatia specifically for mites. The domatia are often small, hairy, and function as shelter for both the mites and their eggs.

By housing certain species of mites, these plants are ensuring that they have a steady supply of hunters and cleaners living on their leaves. Predatory mites are voracious hunters, keeping valuable leaves free of microscopic herbivores while frugivorous mites clean the leaves of detrimental fungi that are known to cause infections such as powdery mildew. The exchange is pretty straight forward. Mites get a home and a place to breed and the plants get some protection. Still, some plants seem to want to sweeten the relationship in a literal sense.

Some plants, specifically grape vines in the genus Vitis, also produce extrafloral nectaries on their leaves. These tiny glands secrete sugary nectar. In a paper recently published in the Annals of Botany, it was found that extrafloral nectaries enhances the efficacy of these mite domatia by enticing more mites to stick around. By adding nectar to domatia-producing leaves that did not secrete it, the researchers found that nectar increases beneficial mite densities on these leaves by 60 - 80%. This translates to an increase in fitness for these plants in the long run.

I love research like this. I had no idea that so many of my favorite and most familiar tree and vine species had entered into an evolutionary relationship with beneficial mites. This adds a whole new layer of complexity to the interactions within any given environment. It just goes to show you how much is left to be discovered in our own back yards.

Photo Credits: [1] [2] [3]