Conservation Corner: A native spring wildflower and its evil twin
In various mythological and cultural tales, every person is said to have a spirit or apparition wandering the world that bears an identical physical resemblance to them called a doppelganger. Some stories tell that seeing your doppelganger was a harbinger of bad luck, while other traditions claim they were your evil twin. In modern times, however, the word has lost its paranormal connection and is generally used in reference to two people that could pass as identical twins but are biologically unrelated.
For anyone who has ever tried to identify living things to the species level, you also know that there are many doppelgangers in nature as well, especially to the untrained eye. Fungi, for example, is one group that I have never mastered. The meadow mushroom (Agaricus campestris) is a sought after and frequently consumed fungus, but to me they have a doppelganger called the destroying angel (Amanita bisporigera) that is decidedly less edible with a single mushroom of this latter species often containing a lethal dose of toxin. People with more expertise in mycology and fungi identification may scoff at the thought of anyone confusing the two, but I find there’s no shame in admitting an area of inexperience, especially when a mistake may prove deadly.
Fortunately, the native spring wildflower and its invasive botanical doppelganger that are today’s subject material are not typically collected for human consumption, but you’ll find the impact on Ohio’s native biological communities from the non-native species can still be quite destructive.
Marsh marigold (Caltha palustris) is one of Ohio’s native spring-blooming wildflowers and is a favorite for many who seek out its stunning yellow flowers. As its name hints at, this plant is often found growing in saturated soil around marshes, ditches, woodland seeps, and other wetlands. It is one of the first wetland plants to emerge in the spring and can visually dominate the area during its blooming period. The flowers of the marsh marigold lack actual petals, and instead have five to nine sepals arranged around the center cluster of stamens. Sepals, which are often present in other flowers as a green, leaf-like layer around the developing floral bud, can be colored on some plants as is the case with the marsh marigold. While marsh marigolds are a native and beneficial member to our botanical communities, there is a non-native, invasive plant also blooming this time of year that can potentially lead to misidentifications due to their similarity.
Lesser celandine (Ficaria verna) is the floral embodiment of those original doppelganger definitions as spotting a patch of this unwelcome wildflower can lead to severe disruption and degradation of the nearby habitat as they aggressively spread and dominate the ground layer of vegetation, at least here in the United States and Ohio where it was introduced as an ornamental around the mid to late 1800s. At first glance this plant can appear a virtual twin to the marsh marigold. Their leaf shape, size, and margins are quite similar, and their flowers have the same bright yellow hue and blooming period, but a closer inspection of the floral structure will help separate the two. Lesser celandine has eight or more sepals that are generally more elongated with less overlapping of each other than those of the marsh marigold.
Lesser celandine has continued to expand its range throughout Ohio, and early documentation and control of new patches is the best way to mitigate its negative effects. So, if you find a new patch of yellow flowers this spring and you think it might be the evil doppelganger of the lovely marsh marigold, don’t hesitate to report it and get management efforts started.
Tommy Springer is the deputy director of the Fairfield County Park District. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org