Tasmanian Plants

After a year of looking at tree rings in an office, there was no better way of finding a piece of haven than a visit to the Vale of Belvoir Conservation Area, one of my favourite places in Tasmania. Like the Blue Tiers in the Northeast of Tasmania, I consider the Vale of Belvoir my Northwestern spiritual retreat.

We arrived to the Vale of Belvoir at the best of times. We had the best kind of weather one could ever ask for.

The road into the Vale ended at the edge of Lake Lea. My partner and I got out and sat by the lake listening to the wind blowing through the reeds.

We contemplated on how the aborigines must have lived. They must have sat, all those times ago, perhaps at the same spot where we were, listening to the winds sweeping across those same plains. For that briefest moment, we could perhaps taste the kind of life they led, their struggles, and their bond with the landscape that they inhabited.

That brief connection we perceived was devastating. It cast into contrast our lives in this current day and age. We have progressed aplenty, but we have much of the old ways to integrate in our current lives.

On the green side of things, the Vale of Belvoir has a diverse suite of different plant habitats. Diversity of habitats = diversity of plants. What more, the Vale is home to a suite of rare plants (see my previous post). That is more than enough reason for the Vale of Belvoir to be a must-see spot for plant lovers.

So it follows that one might expect to enjoy exploring the open sedgelands, rushlands and subalpine heaths and take shelter in the cool of the woodland and rainforest understoreys should the sun get too scorching.

It was a day of exciting new finds for me of which I shall mention three. For more of the delightful sights and botany of the Val, go to my Flickr album set.

One of my exciting finds was the Alpine Marshwort (Liparophyllum gunnii). This little curious plant is monotypic (the only member of the genus) and belongs to the Marshwort family (Menyanthaceae), a botanical family of economic importance for it’s aquatic ornamentals. It was growing by the edge of Lake Lea and it was a lifer (first time sighting) for me. It also has an interesting biogeography, being found only in Tasmania and New Zealand.

Alpine Marshwort (Liparophyllum gunnii)

Another exciting find was the Alpine Appleberry (Rhytidosporum inconspicuum). The alpine appleberry is a rare shrub that belongs, surprisingly, to the Pittosporum family (Pittosporaceae). As the specific epithet ‘inconspicuum‘ suggests, it is one inconspicuous little plant which I wouldn’t otherwise have picked up if not for sheer luck. But therein lies the great joys of being a botanist – seeing the inconspicuous.

Alpine Appleberry (Rhytidosporum inconspicuum)

Then there were the flowers of the Mountain Mitrewort (Schizacme montana). This little mat-forming shrub of the Mitrewort family (Loganiaceae) has the most exquisite little 4-petaled blossums of which I was seeing for the first time. Before that I had only seen, on numerous occassions, the equally exquisite fruits.

Mountain Mitrewort (Mitrasacme montana)

Our time at in this spiritual-botanical haven was short, but the therapy it offered was priceless. Undoubtedly, this will not be our last visit. The sublime touches one indelibly.

Map at information board at Poimena

Ask any nature lover to recommend a place to go for a day ramble in Tasmania and the Blue Tiers of Northeastern Tasmania may not be the first place mentioned, if it is even mentioned at all. But really, enough of Cradle Mountain and Mt Field already. Enter the Blue Tiers, one of Tasmania’s best kept secrets. Whether it be for the specific pursuit of plants or for a general nature walk, this blog cannot live up to it’s purpose if I do not dedicate at least one post to the Blue Tiers.

My love affair with the Blue Tiers began in 2007 when I was doing an honours project, studying the bryophyte diversity of rainforest in the Northeast. The Blue Tiers was one of the sites I visited in the Northeast. I was smitten with the place on the very first visit and I knew it would be the locality of repeated botanical and spiritual pilgrimages for me.

This post takes a journey from the base of the Blue Tiers to the summit of Mt Michael. Getting to the Blue Tiers is a roughly 4 hour drive from Hobart up the Midlands highway and via St. Helens. From St Helens we head toward the Tasman highway and turn into Lottah Road. Just on this drive along Lottah Road alone there will be much botanical and scenic delights.

Abode of the Southern Kingfern along Ransom River (Image credit: Silver Huang)

To start with at the base of the Blue Tiers, Lottah Road runs alongside the Ransom River, which is flanked by one of the healthiest populations of the Southern Kingfern (Todea barbata) I have ever seen, with magnificent White Gums (Eucalyptus viminalis) towering over them. The King ferns belong to the Osmundaceae, a primitive lineage of ferns by fern evolutionary standards. The petrified fossil trunks of the relatives of Todea are world reknown (see my post on Osmundaceae fossils) and observing these King ferns at the edges of the Ransom River, it is not difficult to appreciate the environmental conditions that makes such a process of preservation possible.

Idyllic pastures on the road toward Lottah

As we press on along the road toward Lottah there are stretches of idyllic paddocks with scattered copses of stately eucalypts, all possibly remnants of the settlement that used to exist there in the early 1900′s. The scenery changes naring Poimena, when one drives through Mountain Ash forest encountering a veritable fern paradise, with a preponderance of Soft treeferns (Dicksonia antarctica) and other understorey ferns lining the well maintained gravel road.

Finally, nearing Poimena, the eucalypts give out to stunted Myrtle Beech rainforest, which has every bit the evocative beauty of the grandiose cathedral rainforests typical of the Northwest, except stature.

Ground mosaic of coral lichens and reindeer lichens

The Sun Flats area is an ideal place to park to hike up toward Mt Michael. Upon embarking on the trail, one enters the magical subalpine landscape of the Blue Tiers, a veritable a haven for lichens. The understorey of the subalpine heath is teeming in mats of Coral lichen (Cladia retipora) and Reindeer lichen (Cladina confusa), in some parts looking like snow patches.

Coral lichen and Reindeer lichen mats

Just as haunting in beauty are the Wooly teatree (Leptospermum lanigerum) wetlands, with some of the most luxurant Sphagnum bogs of the Northeast. This is also a site where one can expect to find some rare and interesting bryophytes that inhabit these bogs.

Subalpine Sphagnum bogs near Poimena, Blue Tiers

Soon however, one enters the abode of the grand cathedral myrtle beech rainforest where scarcely a log goes uncovered with verdant mats of mosses and liverworts. It was in such a site that I toiled in the sublime pursuit of bryophytes. Amazingly, every time I visit the place I add to my checklist some species I did not see prior, despite what I would consider to be a rather comprehensive inventory.

Cathedral Myrtle Beech rainforest

The transition from stunted Myrtle Beech rainforest around Poimena to cathedral rainforest at a higher altitude around Little Mt Michael may seem quixotic but is likely related to the history of tin mining that the Blue Tiers has encountered. The information boards at Poimena and the Blue Tiers website gives very comprehensive information on this. At some point, a large part of the Blue Tiers must have been cleared. Yet the cover of the vegetation that is observable today exemplifies the tremendous regenerative capacity of the landscape.

New growth in Celerytop pine

The rainforest soon gives way to the rocky granitic summit of Mt Michael. The panoramic views of the surrounding Northeastern highlands are absolutely breathtaking. At an altitude of 800m or so, the botany of the summit has strong subalpine flavor, with a number of significant endemic plants like the Cheeseberry (Cyathodes glauca) and Mountain Geebung (Persoonia gunnii). Some rainforest elements like the Celerytop Pine (Phyllocladus aspleniifolius) are also present.

View from Little Mt Michael summit

The hike from the Sun Flats carpark to the Mt Michael summit is an easy one, taking at the very most an hour and a half at a very leisurely pace. Yet in this meagre time spent in the Blue Tiers, it is impossible remain untouched by it’s beauty, and it’s resilience. The Forestry Tasmania information board at Poimena recognizes the Tasmanian aborigines as the custodians of the land and add that ‘the spirit of the Trouwunna clanspeople always remains in this land’. I believe that the land HAS a spirit, even long before the aborigines came along. It is a spirit that, no doubt, the aborigines added to in the collective time during which they inhabited the land.

Imagine now, what WE can add, in a spirit of earnest appreciation.

(See more photos at my Picasa web album here.)

Black Peppermint (Eucalyptus amygdalina) dry woodland at Tom Gibson Nature Reserve

Simultaneously, one of the greatest pains and pleasures of being a botanist is the amount of time it can take to consolidate and write up on the findings of a single field trip. I thought the fieldtrip to the Tom Gibson Nature Reserve among one of those deserving a writeup, at least for the purpose of documenting the botanical ‘lifers’ I had encountered there. I have attached most of the photos in a Picasa web album folder.

The visit to the reserve was made on the 14th of November 2009. The fieldtrip was organized by the Threatened Plants Tasmania group and the Department of Primary Industries, Parks, Water and Environment (DPIPWE) and was attended by some twenty or so participants. Among those present were plant experts, namely Richard Schahinger (from DPIPWE), John Davies (from GDH), Mark Wapstra (from ECOTas), Ray Skabo and Phil Collier (TPT president).

The Tom Gibson Nature Reserve is of conservation significance for it’s high botanical diveristy and wealth of rare plants. We visited the southern part of the Tom Gibson Nature Reserve, a 659.8 ha block of beautiful dry eucalypt forest and woodland (See the description by Parks and Wildlife).

Upon entering the reserve we were greeted by a whole forest understorey full of Tiger Orchids (Diuris sulphurea) the likes of which I have never witnessed before. Also in sight were a couple of rare plants including the Chocolate Lily (Arthropodium strictum) and the endemic Propeller Plant (Stenanthemum pimeleoides), betokening the great botanical treasures to be seen thereafter.

Dwarf Sunray (Triptilodiscus pygmaeus) on a rock plate

We drove in a little further into the center of the reserve and came to a rather dry and drab looking rock plate. Dull as it might have appeared, it was the abode of a number of rare daisies.

One of these was the Moss Sunray (Hyalosperma demissum), a very compact plant that looks like a moss turf. Another was the Dwarf Sunray (Triptilodiscus pygmaeus), a distinctive trailing yellow flowered daisy. Yet another was the Small Wrinklewort (Siloxerus multiflorus), a little herb with small heads of flowers. All of these were extremely diminutive plants scarcely taller than a few centimeters.

Pressing on towwards the western edge of the reserve, we came to distinctive habitat in the reserve, a soak no larger that perhaps 5-10 square meters. Here, Richard Schahinger pointed out a number of threatened plants which included the Small Triggerplant (Stylidium despectum), Tiny Water Milfoil (Myriophyllum integrifolium), the Slender Fanwort (Aphelia gracilis) (see my previous post) and the Tiny Arrowgrass (Triglochin minutissimum).

Closeup of the fowers of the ephemeral Small Triggerplant (Stylidium despectum)

Finally, at the last stop for the day at the northern part of the reserve, we botanized around a rocky grassy spot where we encountered the Dwarf Fanwort (Aphelia pumilio) and the Grassland Candles (Stackhousia subterranea). Other interesting plants there included the Australian Carrot (Daucus glochidiatus). In the vicinity there was also a small soak by the dirt road in which grew a healthy population of an interesting fern ally, the Plain Quillwort (Isoetes drummondii subsp. drummondii).

Thats 12 rare plants in a day, the bulk of which I was seeing for the first time! Quite frankly, little else excites a botanist than the opportunity to make an acquaintance with new plants. Much thanks to the excellent work of the Threatened Plants Tasmania group, DPIPWE and to foresight of Tom Gibson, the former owner of the land who kept the area intact.

As I have written in my post ‘the unbearable adorableness of turfed existence‘, small plants are very easy to love. Members of the Bristlewort family (Centrolepidaceae) in particular, meet all the qualifications. Most turfed and all are small, barely attaining a stature exceeding a few centimeters.

Aphelia gracilis (Slender Fanwort)

For a number of years now I have been wanting to meet two specific members of the Bristlewort family, Aphelia gracilis (Slender Fanwort) and Aphelia pumilio (Dwarf Fanwort), particularly after I had seen illustrations and photographs of the two in The Student’s Flora of Tasmania Part 4B and The Nature of the Midlands.

Isolepis levynsiana (Tiny Flatsedge)

Other than the aesthetic allure of these plants. there are reasons for this eagerness,

For one, the genus Aphelia is endemic to Australian, that is to say, unique to Australian soils. Secondly, both the dwarf and slender fanworts are rare plants found only in parts of the Midlands and in the Northeast.

Adorableness and rarity. Such reasons are cannot fail to set off passions like rotating lights accompanied with sirens for plant lovers.

Needless to say, it did for me. So great my desire was to see these two fanworts and so swift was my alignment to this desire that in one fell swoop, I saw the both of them in a single day when I visited the Tom Gibson Nature Reserve on a Threatened Plants Tasmania group excursion.

The strange thing about these two plants is that there is little in the gist of it that would suggest that they are NOT sedges. Yet, they are so unique as to be recognizable at once. I shall explain.

A. gracilis spike

From every angle, these two plants look like small sedges of the genus Isolepis. The single spike (the flower cluster, consisting of many overlapping bracts) is laterally flattened and in practically every sense resembles the floral parts of Isolepis or Cyperus. When we come to this point we have got to stand in awe of the detail that plant taxonomists put into describing plants.

The Bristlewort family is probably best distinguished from sedges by their fruits. Bristleworts have dehiscent fruits, meaning that the fruits split open to expose seeds at maturity. The fruits of sedges, on the other hand, are indehiscent nuts. This fruit characteristic of Aphelia is difficult if not impossible to see in the field. Moreover, these plants are so small that you’d need a microscope in the field at the time of fruit maturity to look at it – not very logistically appealing for an afternoon walk.

On my plant hunt with Richard Schahinger of the Department of Primary Industries, Parks, Water and Environment (DPIPWE) and and other members of the Threatened Plants Tasmania group, we stopped at a small soak in the Tom Gibson Nature Reserve to look for ephemeral plants. It was not long before the keen and experienced eyes of Richard sighted the Slender fanwort.

The Slender fanwort (Aphelia gracilis) can be easily confused with sedges. In particular, the common Tiny Flatsedge (Isolepis levynsiana), which we found co-occuring with the Slender fanwort, has flower parts that look very similar to the spike of the Slender fanwort. However, upon closer examination, the hairy bracts of the Slender fanwort immediately distinguish it. Moreover, the Slender fanwort is often brownish-pink in all parts of the plant.

Aphelia pumilio (Dwarf Fanwort)

I was not quite as fortunate with the Dwarf Fanwort, managing only to find patches which had already dried out and died. However, Mark Wapstra had found some fresh specimens at another site in his earlier plant hunt and showed it to those around. It was as curious in real life as it looked in photos and illustrations.

Dwarf Fanwort is instantly recognizable by the pompous spikelets that practically dominate the plant body. Sometimes the flowering stalk may be taller Even if the flowering stalk. There is nothing else like it in Tasmania and there certainly is no sedge with such a disproportionate spikelet/plant body ratio!

I haven’t had the chance to ask Mark, a co-author of the Little Book of Common Names for Tasmanian Plants what prompted them to call Aphelias fanworts. Perhaps they likened the floral parts to an open fan. I’d prefer to think that the Aphelias are called fanworts because diminutive and inconspicuous as they may be, they have that inexplicable power to make fans of plant lovers, as they have of me.

The clear and bright morning of the 7th of October 2009 was to set the tone for the weather of the day. It was going to be a perfect day for an outing to the Tasman Peninsula to look for threatened plants, an emphasis being placed an endangered eyebright, the Peninsula Eyebright (Euphrasia semipicta).

Along with 10 other volunteers, I had the pleasure of joining Dr Wendy Potts of the Department of Primary Industries and Water, our local expert on Tasmanian eyebrights, in a hunt for the endangered plant.

The Peninsula Eyebright is a short-lived endemic perennial which has been listed as endangered under the Tasmanian Species Protection Act (see Notesheet from the DPIW website). As the common name suggests, the Peninsula Eyebright is found only on the Tasman Peninsula. There it grows on a wide variety of substrates ranging from clayey to sandy soils.

It’s rarity and unique distribution asides, the Peninsula Eyebright has an interesting natural history that may not immediately be apparent to the casual observer.

For many years, Eyebrights were part of the Figwort family (Scrophulariaceae), to which well known medicinal plants like figworts (Scrophularia) and mulleins (Verbascum) belong. The placement of Eyebrights in the Figwort family however, proved to be untenable on the basis of DNA evidence (Young et al. 1999). In fact, the entire figwort family has lost many of it’s members since the advent of molecular science.

Also because Eyebrights are semi-parasitic – a feature not typical of the Figwort family. Ultimately, Eyebrights were placed under the broomrape family (Orobanchaceae), which have members that are typically semi-parasitic to wholly parasitic. What the Peninsula Eyebright parasitizes on is still anyone’s guess, a reflection of what remains to be discovered.

The Peninsula Eyebright, like some other rare native eyebrights, is quite peculiar with respects to where it lives. In almost every site we visited, we found plants growing near tracks or roads. Wendy says that they ‘like the view’.  Being semi-parasitic seems to be tied in with their transpiration rate, and hence the need of exposure to drive that transpiration rate. ‘They can die within two days of being kept in a dim area’, says Wendy.

Also, being an endemic component of Tasmania’s flora, the Peninsula Eyebright must have evolved alongside the pyrogenic rhythms of the Tasmanian landscape. It is conceivable that before European settlement, the Peninsula must have relied heavily on aboriginal burning for survival. Arguably, the Peninsula may have been more common before the changed fire regimes brought about by European colonialism.

Complex evolutionary processes are at work in the East Coast of Tasmania, and their effects are very marked in the eyebrights. This creates a headache for taxonomists as the species concept is stretched really thin by some of these eyebrights. Just within the Peninsula Eyebrights, Wendy has found and described plants of three different forms that vary in corolla colour and other morphological details (Potts 1997), but as yet, no one has taken any steps to formally distinguish these forms as separate subspecies.

We saw two of the forms that Wendy described. One had purplish flowers with striations in the corolla. The other had the same type of striations but with white corollas, and tended to be more squat than the former.

In all the localities we visited, the Peninsula Eyebrights appeared to be doing better than the year before, when I had visited the same localities with Wendy. Perhaps it was the good rainfall we got this winter and early spring. We even discovered plants from a couple of new spots.

When I contemplate the Peninsula Eyebright, I cannot help but marvel at how nature sometimes graces certain small geographical areas with an expression of plants and animals that are found nowhere else. When, perhaps, in the distant future, natural processes separate the Tasman Peninsula from Tasmania, the Peninsula Eyebright will no doubt be a prime candidate as the icon plant of the ‘Tasman Island’.

It was a busy and tiring week and I needed some fresh air. We (my partner and I) therefore made an almost impromtu decision to make a trip down to Marriots Falls this weekend Saturday. I had been on the track once during the Australasian Bryophyte Workshop in 2007 but I never got to the falls, distracted by all the bryophytes along the trail.

This time I was determined to get to the falls. I had an ulterior motive though…

Castanoclobos julaceus, as photographed from a collection during the 2007 Australasian Bryological Workshop

During the bryophyte workshop, someone had collected an interesting liverwort, Castanoclobos julaceus. This liverwort from the family Trichocoleaceae is interesting because it is a rare plant in New Zealand and was originally known only from New Zealand. There are however a number of older collections from Tasmania which were not verified until recently. Interestingly, this liverwort appears to be more in Tasmania than in New Zealand. Still, it is by no means very common here. I wanted to meet it and photograph it in situ. I had previously only seen and photographed it from a fresh collection under the kind permission of the collector during the bryophyte workshop.

The track was much wetter than I remembered, possibly because of the recent rains. I managed to hold off the urge to look at bryophytes but this time it was the numerous fungi that slowed us down.

There were just so many of them I simply could not photograph everything. Also I’ve really got to get a copy of Bruce Fuhrer’s toadstood guide. Seeing all those lovely toadstoods without a name to mind was driving me nuts.

I digress.

After numerous stops photographing toadstools (and some bryophytes) we finally reached the fall. It was spectacular. The water volume was so tremendous we had to take a photo from a distance to prevent the mist from getting onto our lenses.

Then after getting over my awe of the spectacular sight I hunted around for my quarry, the Castanoclobos. It was to no avail. I simply couldn’t find it, large and showy as the species is. Maybe it was hidden behind the curtain of water. That was a major disappointment.

We had to leave before the sky got dim. We were wet and our clothes were soiled by the end of it all but the walk was nonetheless a wonderful one.

On part 1 of this series I blogged about our fortuitous sighting of the very inconspicuous Alpine Appleberry (Rhytidosporum inconspicuum) at Middlesex Plains, 16 Dec 2008. Our next stop was the Vale of Belvoir.

A view of the Vale of Belvoir

The Vale of Belvoir is a breathtaking place, even in bad weather. Eminent ecologist Jamie Kirkpatrick says that the securing of the Vale of Belvoir as a conservation area was a major triumph for Tasmania. If you’d been there you’d agree.

The area was full of sedges and other alpine forbs, some of which I seeing for the first time. Our quarry at the Vale of Belvoir though, was the Alpine Candles (Stackhousia pulvinaris).

Stackhousia pulvinaris (Alpine Candles)

In addition to Tasmania, S. pulvinaris also occurs (not commonly) in high altitude areas in mainland Australia. In Tasmania however, it only seems to occur in the Vale of Belvoir area, thereby explaining it’s ‘Rare’ status under the Threatened Species Protection Act (TSPA) schedules.

Upon sighting individuals of S. pulvinaris, one questions the sense of the name ‘candles’. Candles is the name given to members of the genus Stackhousia in Tasmania, probably alluding to the inflorescence of spirally arranged white, yellow or cream flowers, giving the overall effect of ‘candles’. The common Stackhousia monogyna is a fabulous example of this.

S. pulvinaris on the other hand has no such inflorescence. The flowers occur singly in the leaf axils and unlike it’s cousins, has adopted a mat lifeform, a common strategy of plants growing in alpine environments.

After spotting the first individual, practically right at the start of the track, we were greeted by numerous others, all smiling in flowers. Almost all these plants were along the track, as if they liked the anthropogenic disturbance. In total, we estimated over 100 individuals just along a few hundred meters of track.

All in all, I’d say that the population of S. pulvinaris is in good health – a very positive sign. Plants aside, the Vale is a stunning place (I just had to say it again). Definitely a place I’d want to return to in the future.

Saltmarsh at Sorrell. The grey patch is a large mat of the Silky Wilsonia (Wilsonia humilis)

In November 2008 I had the privilege to participate in an African Boxthorn (Lycium ferocissimum) weeding trip at a beautiful saltmarsh in Sorrell with my fellow DPIW colleagues Mick Ilowski and Adam Smith.

The reason for doing weeding at the saltmarsh was because a threatened species, the Silky Wilsonia (Wilsonia humilis) grows there.

The Silky Wilsonia (Wilsonia humilis) is listed as rare under the Tasmanian Species Protection Act and the African Boxthorn invasion into the saltmarsh would possibly be quite detrimental to the health of the Silky Wilsonia populations there.

If you have ever seen morning glories you would never have imagined that Wilsonia humilis is anywhere remotely related to it (see also my post on the Golden Dodder).

Unlike it’s typical twinning morning glory cousins, native Tasmanian Wilsonias have succulent leaves and very small flowers (compared to typical morning glories). It is only by virtue of their floral structure that the Wilsonias belong within the morning glory family (Convolvulaceae).

I imagine that the Silky Wilsonia would make a fabulous lawn plant. There are simply little words to express the exquisiteness of those succulent greyish and densely overlapping leaves.

Flowers of Wilsonia humilis

Leaves of Wilsonia humilis

The succulence of the leaves is an adaptation to the saline conditions of the saltmarsh habitat and it never fails to amaze me how numerous unrelated families of plants have adopted succulence in order to survive in saline environments.

In any case, the exuberance of Silky Wilsonia in the Sorrell saltmarsh was simply amazing.

According to Richard Schahinger, a botanist from DPIW’s Threatened Species Unit, this salmarsh probably has one of the most healthy looking populations of the plant. I can’t disagree.

Narrowleaf Wilsonia (Wilsonia backhousei)

The Sorrell saltmarsh also has another very different looking Wilsonia species there, the Narrowleaf Wilsonia (Wilsonia backhousei).

The Narrowleaf Wilsonia is not threatened but is no less fascinating. The thin elongated sky-ward pointing corollas made me think of little trumpets. If I could but hear the tunes they play?

It was the 16th of December 2008 and I had the fortune to go on a trip with Micah Visiou, seed collecting officer for the Millenium Seed bank project in Tasmania, up to the Central Highlands to look for some threatened plants.

The weather was not to inviting but since we had spent over 4 hours driving to our destination, it would be unforgivable to pass up the opportunity for a ramble.

Our first stop was the Iris River on the Middlesex Plains. We were greeted by magnificent mats of Tasmanian mudleaf (Gunnera cordifolia) by the river the moment we stepped out of the car. Should have taken a shot.

The habitat (pic above) was very open subalpine woodland of stately cider gums (Eucalyptus gunnii) and heathy shrubs like Coral heath (Epacris gunnii) and Rigid Candleheath (Richea sprengelioides).

Our mission on Middlesex Plains was to look for an endangered plant called the Alpine appleberry (Rhytidosporum inconspicuum) (See the DPIW website listing statement).

Rhytidosporum inconspicuum belongs to the Pittosporum family (Pittosporaceae), making it a relative of the widely planted exotic Sweet Pittosporum (Pittosporum bicolor).

True to its namesake (inconspicuum), the plant is a very low prostrate shrub that is onerous to spot in the absence of fruits or flowers. Even with flowers it was hard to spot but we were fortunate to spot two individuals (See pics below).

Based on a reliable information source, there were supposely over a 100 more individuals where we were but time did not permit us to look for more. We had to move on to our next stop, the Vale of Belvoir, to look for yet another threatened plant.

The 22 Dec 2008 was a work day but it was exciting. I made a trip up to Beaconsfield with Mick Ilowski and Felicity Hargraves to do some seedpod counting of the endangered Shy Pinkbells (Tetratheca gunnii).

Mick and some other staff of the Threatened Plants Unit, Department of Primary Industries and Water, have been monitoring the population of Tetratheca gunnii for around a decade. A couple of weeks prior to our visit, they had hand-pollinated some individuals and we wanted to get some follow up data to see if the plants are setting seed well.

As with many threatened plants, Tetratheca gunnii had very patchy distributions in the area, some kilometers apart from each other.

It is really hard to understand by the plants would be found in such discrete patches with a continuous distribution.

We visited a couple of sites with two rangers who graciously came along to help with the seed pod counting.

After the whole exercise, the general sense we got was that there was very little seed pod production relative to the number of flowers that were hand pollinated.

The number of plants also seems to be declining. Fortunately, the Royal Tasmanian Botanical Gardens maintains  a good ex-situ population of the species.

I went back with Mick just this Monday to take a look again but all the seeds had dropped off by then. Seed collection will have to wait another year.