Illinois bundleflower in Lake County. (Sheryl DeVore / Lake County News-Sun)
If I had shown a unique plant with leaves that resembled those of a mimosa tree to my botanist friends, they would have instantly known what it was.
But I don’t always have a personal botanist at my side when I’m roaming outdoors. I do, however, have “Seek” by iNaturalist.
It’s a smartphone app that helps identify plant and animal species, though I think it’s better with plants. “Seek” gives the scientific and common names, and whether the plants are native or introduced. It works with your phone’s camera, so you can take a picture of every species you’re trying to identify.
I’m not a big fan of apps and “Seek” doesn’t always get it right, but when it does it’s so much fun and a great learning experience.
Even before it was in bloom, “Seek” got the identity correct of the plant that had mimosalike leaves I discovered in a small prairie down the street. It’s the Illinois bundleflower or prairie mimosa (Desmanthus illinoiensis). The app also identified it as native plant to Illinois prairies.
This plant’s interesting leaf patterns resembled those of the mimosa tree, which I’ve seen in Florida. Each compound leaf consists of many oblong leaflets that look like little window blinds. They grow like small shrubs and produce buds in early July that emerge into small, white, fluffy-looking flowers dotted at the tips with yellow.
My discovery led me to return to see the buds and later the flowers, and even later the unique fruits, which look like pea pods that contain seeds.
“Flora of the Chicago Region,” by Gerould Wilhelm and Laura Rericha, indicates the bundleflower grows in dry to slightly moist prairies, often alongside coreopsis and bee balm. It has a C value of 3 out of 10, which means it’s not all that rare, but also not too common.
Perhaps because of its unique leaf arrangements and because the app knew I was in Lake County, it got the plant name right.
However, when I asked it to identify a tree in my yard, it called it a red oak. It’s a bur oak. So there is some caution in using this app.
Since the discovery of “Seek,” my sister and I and other nature-loving folks have been running around like silly schoolchildren pointing the app at various plants in our yards and in natural areas.
Last August, while my sister and I were at a prairie near Lake Geneva, Illinois, we learned to better identify goldenrods, of which there are so many species, by using “Seek.” We now can identify various goldenrods without using the app, including our favorite, showy goldenrod.
I also identified alderleaf buckthorn in my yard, which I thought was a nonnative invasive plant, but then discovered it’s native, according to “Seek.” How it got there, I’ll never know. But I also wonder if “Seek” confused the plant with alder buckthorn, an introduced invasive species. You have to be careful with these apps, and not pull out a plant that says it’s invasive unless you are sure that’s what it is. I have more sleuthing to do on this particular plant.
Scrolling through the list of plants on my observations, I see rock cranesbill, narrowleaf puccoon, eastern skunk cabbage, false mermaidweed and cursed crowfoot, among hundreds more that I have seen and identified with “Seek.” That always leads me to more research.
For example, “cursed” crowfoot, which is in the buttercup family, is toxic, causing blisters on the skin. John Hilty, author of “Illinois Wildflowers” online (https://www.illinoiswildflowers.info) writes, “During earlier times, beggars reportedly smeared the juices of the foliage on their faces and arms to create blisters that would solicit sympathy and money from passers-by.
“Seek” comes with me on vacation, too, because it knows where you’re at. In Florida, I identified a native strangler fig with the app, for example, and in California I discovered barrel cactus, teddy bear cholla and creosote bush.
The 21st century has quite a few apps for identifying nature outdoors and I’m grateful for them. But they’ll never replace the human botanists whose skills and knowledge I treasure. There are entire suites of plants that need to be put under a magnifying lens or a microscope to ascertain their identity, and “Seek” can’t do that. At least not yet.
Sheryl DeVore has worked as a full-time and freelance reporter, editor and photographer for the Chicago Tribune and its subsidiaries. She’s the author of several books on nature and the environment. Send story ideas and thoughts to sheryldevorewriter@gmail.com