Goblet Mosses

After the last post's exploration of the springtails and other delights to be found by closely examining mosses, last week brought a crazy eruption in some of the mosses growing in the gravel Lehman Ave. extension near the Sycamore Apartments. 

Goblet mosses, or urn mosses (tentatively Physcomitrium pyriforme), are fairly subtle for most of the year, but when they are ready to release their spores in the spring, they produce bladderlike capsules atop thin stalks that are a little more eye-catching (relatively, as mosses go, I suppose). Like other mosses, their lifecycle is quite different from what we might imagine based on most of the plants we encounter.*

A cluster of balloon-like sporophytes.

Mosses are non-vascular, non-flowering plants that have two basic life phases:

1. Gametophyte generation. This is what we normally picture when we imagine moss: the plain, low-growing mats of tiny leaves. It is a haploid generation** that will produce shoots bearing either an archegonium that contains eggs or an antheridium that produces sperm. Water, via rainfall or other methods, can help the sperm make its way to an awaiting egg. Once fertilized, the moss will transition to its
2. Sporophyte generation. This diploid generation is names after its sporophyte, the structure that carries and later releases its haploid spores to the world, which will grow into a new gametophyte generation and start the process all over again. 

The balloonlike capsules here are the sporophytes, held up by the stalk, technically called the seta. The cup-like capsule has a lid (the operculum) that will fall away and allow the spores to disperse. 

While we eagerly await the spring flowers and shows reproductive organs, it's a neat reminder that there are many other reproductive strategies in the world of plants.

Threadlike setae hold the sporophytes aloft.

*Did I resort to searching "moss lifecycle for dummies" in researching this? Yes I did. 

**  If you remember high school biology, haploid refers a cell or organism with just a single set of chromosomes. Our gametes—reproductive cells like sperm and egg—are haploid, each containing a single set of the chromosomes that combine into a diploid cell with two complete sets of chromosomes. 

Resources/Additional Reading:

• Urn Moss (Goblet Moss). Missouri Department of Conservation.
• Goblet Moss. Illinois Wildflowers.

"Who cares about tiny non-insects...?"

 If you had any idea the number of photos I take on the Greenway every time I go out, compared to the number of photos I actually share, you would be forgiven for thinking I'm a truly terrible photographer who happens to catch a few lucky shots here and there. The sheer volume of photos (thank goodness for digital cameras) that are out of focus alone... but also those that capture a bird looking the wrong way or flying out of frame, or a breeze blowing a flower and its insect passenger aside just as I click the button, or the interesting-looking thing off in the distance that turns out to be a clod of dirt. Embarrassing. 

But sometimes, sometimes...those wasted shots turn out to be a little more interesting than they seem at first glance. 

Take this one:

Okay. Moss. It's fairly green for the middle of January, which is kind of nice. The rocks and twigs lend a little bit of texture and visual interest. But zooming in, it's not too crisp and just kind of meh. Delete.

But hang on—what was that? Just a glimpse as the deleted image disappeared off my screen. Fortunately I still had the backup file....zoom in....

Who are those?! Chunky little gray-blue bodies with plump abdomens, segmented like tiny Michelin men, out and about on a below-freezing Iowa afternoon. Scrolling back and forth yielded several more:

Springtails? I'd encountered similar chubby soft bodies previously on the Greenway, in a watery area near the Great Snail Crossing. iNaturalist suggested several types of springtail as an ID, including Moss Springtail (Neanura muscorum, which seems to be native to Europe, introduced in the U.S.) and Hypogastrura, a genus with dozens of species including several that "are active in winter and are called 'snow fleas'", according to BugGuide. Barely being able to see them, much less notice such diagnostics as furca length (?), anal spines (!), and number of "ocelli in each eyepatch", I shall have to leave the ID at "some kind of springtail, maybe Hypogastrura."

Who cares about tiny non-insects that you can barely see? — Anyone who wants nature to work! 

— Missouri Dept. of Conservation 

Springtails are hexapod arthropods, but not insects; like insects, they have six legs and three main body parts (head, thorax, abdomen), but they lack wings and have internal mouthparts rather than the external mouthparts of insects. They are tiny, usually just a couple of millimeters long, and they tend to hang around moist areas where they will eat decaying plant matter, mold and fungus, and assorted other organic detritus (they are also often cited as an excellent "cleanup crew" for terrariums).

The common name "springtail" comes from their furcula, a forked "tail" normally held tucked beneath their abdomen that can be deployed to fling them several inches into the air when they are bothered (imagine one of those spring-loaded mousetraps that jump into the air when triggered— but it would have to jump more than 16 feet in the air to proportionally equal the "spring" of a springtail!).

So next time you are out and about and think there's not much to see...slow down and take a very close look at moist areas: under logs on the ground, mossy patches, water surfaces. You might find a little neighborhood of life you had no idea was there! 

Watch springtails jump:

Resources/Additional Reading

• Missouri Department of Conservation: Springtails
• University of Minnesota Extension: Springtails
• Ohio State University Extension: Springtails
• Virginia Cooperative Extension
• A Chaos of Delight - lots of delightful information and photos showing the huge variety of springtails