Tasmanian Plants

Since time immemorial, mountains have held special meaning to humans, and coming from a place where the tallest point in the landscape was a measly 169m high, I took the first available opportunity to visit the most accessible mountain when I arrived in Hobart. Thus began my love affair with Mt Wellington. Mt Wellington became my outdoor classroom. I frequented the walking tracks on mountain but I never walked far due to my photographic compulsions. Whatever little distance I managed to cover on foot was sufficient to convince me of the diversity of botanical life on the mountain. Browsing through the scientific literature, I was amazed to discover that the Mt Wellington Range was a stronghold for about a third of Tasmania’s higher plants and up to 60% of Tasmania’s bryophyte flora. I was duly impressed. Appreciation grew.

Those years back when I was doing my undergraduate course, Dr Rob Wiltshire conducted an excursion up the mountain as part of an ecology course to show sophomores the adaptations of eucalypt species to altitude. The class was brought up to the subalpine woodland to look at how eucalypt seedlings cope with frost and excess light. The exercise involved some walking and I took the opportunity to look around for anything flowering. By that stage of my academic life, I must have, I believe, unwittingly gained a reputation for being an incessant questioner, particularly when it came to the identity of plants. Perhaps Rob wanted to silence me before I could ask anything and he pointed to a dark handsome silhouette of a shrub on the rock boulders by the roadside and exclaimed, “Ahhh, do you know what that is?” Of course I did not but I took a stab at it anyway and I was That was when Rob sagaciously replied, with an inflection I can only imagine was meant for dramatic effect, “That’ll be the rare endemic tree daisy, Brachyglottis brunonis.”

I was duly impressed and intrigued. Members of the sunflower family (Asteraceae) such as daisies and groundsels are usually thought of as herbs, particularly in European countries, but then in temperate Australia, tree daisies appear to be a common theme. I learnt later that the tree was named after famed Scottish botanist Robert Brown, hence the specific epithet ‘brunonis‘. Vernacularly, the tree was known variously as the Tree Groundsel, Tasmanian Daisytree or Brown’s Tree Daisy. Interestingly, the only other species of Brachyglottis occur in New Zealand.

My reveries on daisytrees were short-lived in the face of academic pressures. Visits to the mountain trickled.

The final year of my undergraduate studies arrived and one academic unit which piqued my interest was Plant Science Research, in which I would get a chance to try out a mini-project of my own. I toyed with the notion of studying a rare or endemic plants and I felt again the call of the mountain, and remembered the Tasmanian Daisytree, which was both rare and endemic. I sought Rob out and he graciously agreed supervise me on the academic endeavour. We fine-tuned the objectives of the study, which would be to furnish an explanation on why the Tasmanian Daisytree is rare within it’s habitat range. The Tasmanian Daisytree is limited to Mt Wellington and a few other nearby locations. It’s distribution does not exceed 50 square kilometers and it is further restricted only to subalpine woodlands. In it’s habitat, it is also found scattered in a very disjointed manner and there was no obvious reason why this should be so since the subalpine habitat was apparently rather uniform. When we eventually analysed the data we collected and compared the vegetation and environmental factors of areas with and without the Tasmanian Daisytree, little useful information emerged. Areas with and without the Tasmanian Daisytree were not extremely different in terms of their vegetation or environment. Other forces must be responsible for preventing the Tasmanian Daisytree from attaining ubiquity! As far as speculations go, the Tasmanian Daisytree is probably stopped cold in it’s tracks at the seed or seedling stage. We did notice in our preliminary surveys that seedlings of the tree daisy were exceedingly rare.

Limited as the study was, more questions were raised than answered, which is, as I have come to believe, a trend that drives the heartbeat of scientific inquiry. Why the Tasmanian Daisytree chooses to be where it is may remain a mystery for some time and I hope to see one day when I sleuth through the scientific literature, a paper on the lines of: Towards an explanation of the rarity of Brachyglottis brunonis.

In all likelihood, the Tasmanian Daisytree originated on the mountain, and has never managed to move far. It’s rarity only serves to endear one to it’s presence, and presents the all so pleasurable challenge of spotting it among the ocean of other common plants. I can see the Tasmanian Daisytree as no less than the mascot tree of Mt Wellington, the prime botanical feature of Hobart’s Table Mountain. I imagine that the great nature photographer Peter Dombrovskis might thought similarly of the iconic status of the Tasmanian Daisytree when he immortalized in one of his great photographs, a scene of the tree against a backdrop of the weathered face of the Organ Pipes that so characterizes the mountain.

I envision that all genuine nature-loving Tasmanians should come to know the iconic tree of the Mountain that oversees Hobart. But the surest way to get acquainted with the tree daisy is still via a guide. You must be asked to look, and given ample opportunity to feel and smell, for it is likely that only then will you recognize. Then, even without it’s brilliant yellow blossoms you will see and recognize the distinctive dark shiny leaves, it’s charismatic branching and the sweet scent of it’s foliage. And forever will it be burned into your memory when your guide then utters in utmost authority: “That’ll be the rare endemic tree daisy, Brachyglottis brunonis.”

(Dedicated to Dr Rob Wiltshire)

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.

The weather on Monday (26 Oct 2009) was so nice and balmy today that despite having a splitting headache I chose to go for a short walk.

Having, in my absent mindedness forgotten how to get to the Knocklofty Park entrance, I settled for a short walk at the Leonard Wall – Valley Street Reserve.

The small reserve is relatively new and was erected in 2003 in memory of the well known ornithologist Leonard Ernst Wall (1921-2004).

The first impression of the place was that it is overun with weeds. Particularly prominet was the Meadow Foxtail (Alopecurus pratensis). This was the first time I’ve ever seen so much of this grass growing in one place. However, it is obvious that there have been some efforts to plant native species on the slopes of the reserve.

In all, I counted at least 32 species of weeds and 30 native species there (See checklist).

The highlight of my short walk must have been an old and imposing Blue Gum (Eucalyptus globulus) tree at the top of the reserve. It had ramified trunk right near the base and each trunk had a girth of say, over 2 meters. In the aerial photograph in the checklist page, the crown of this tree can be seen to cover a significant portion of the small reserve.

By the size alone I doubt this Blue Gum was planted. If it was it must have been planted about a century ago. I imagine the tree must be a remnant of old Hobart, and has borne silent witness to all the changes that have taken place for the past century.

What would such trees say if we could hear?