‘Tis the season of seeds. After walking recently with a friend through a field of wildflowers that had passed their bloom, I spent the afternoon picking out little burred seeds that had clung on to my pants. Each little speckle, upon closer inspection, was ringed with a series of tiny, little hooked barbs, perfectly designed to cling to a passerby. This is just one of the many amazing designs that seeds have evolved to get from their parent plant out into the world and start new plants of their own. There are also the fluffy cloud-like clusters that carry a seed through the wind and the heavily coated seeds that survive an animal’s digestive tract. And then there are those that float. These seeds not only are lightweight but often also contain tiny droplets of oil inside that help them to be more buoyant or have winged appendages that spread out their weight on top of the water, much like water strider insects.
Some of these seeds that get transported by water are from land plants, and others are from those that live down on the shore. These include the many types of marsh grasses that help to stabilize the shorelines in low-lying coastal areas and provide habitat for shore birds and small crustaceans. Smooth cordgrass (Spartina alterniflora) is one of the most common types. It has long blades that develop seeds in the early fall. Another common one is seaside goldenrod (Solidago sempervirens). Unlike other varieties of goldenrod, the seaside variety is not typically a problem for those with seasonal allergies. Seaside goldenrod is in the aster family, which explains its similarity to the purple-topped asters that dot Maine fields in the summertime and sometimes appear in marshes as well. But seaside goldenrod’s bright yellow flowers don’t come out until the end of summer, lending a welcome bright color to the russet and tan tones of the other marsh plants. They don’t develop their seeds until the end of fall, their fluffy tufts then blowing into the chilly wind. There are several other plants in the salt marsh, many of which have great names like bulrush, milkwort and goose tongue, and all of which produce seeds of one type or another to start the next generation.
Underneath the water, even marine algae like the rockweed we commonly find on our shores has seeds of a sort. Since seaweeds aren’t true plants, they don’t have true seeds, but rather spores that act much like seeds. You will have to wait until spring to find the rounded, yellow tips of the blades that swell and then burst open. Then they will release tiny, floating spores that will float not on top of but underneath the water until they find their way to a surface to start new growth. Later in the spring or early summer, you might find little, yellowish tufts of new fronds getting their start on the intertidal rocks.
As I continue to pick the burrs from my pants and shift into a more land-based mode as the season changes, seeds of all shapes and sizes — terrestrial or marine — serve as a reminder of the regeneration that fall’s dormancy facilitates and will bring back around next spring in the form of fresh shoots.
Susan Olcott is the director of operations at Maine Coast Fishermen’s Association.
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