Protecting Endangered Wildflowers in Central Florida
Polygala lewtonii, commonly known as Lewton's milkwort, is an endangered wildflower found only in six counties of Central Florida.
Howdy Friends,
This week, I embarked on yet another journey through the wilderness of Central Florida, this time to accompany the Florida Forest Service on a conservation initiative to protect a rare species of endangered wildflower. Polygala lewtonii, commonly known as Lewton's milkwort, is a delicate beauty found only in six counties of Central Florida and no where else in the world.
The journey out to the Warea Tract to find the elusive blooms required four-wheel drive. The Jeep I bought at the end of Gator Country got an off-road workout. We drove into an ecosystem that was in flux. Part of the Lake Wales Ridge Complex—an island-like backbone of sandy ridges that juts along the middle of the Floridian peninsula that reaches from the Realm of the Mouse in Central Florida down into the Everglades—the Warea Tract is a thick growth of pine scrub that’s boxed in by subdivisions and ranches. But within that slice of paradise, the landscape is changing, too. The natural fire cycle has been cut off, imperiling species that rely on fires to bloom, as other species take more than their fair share of ground and sky. Sand live oaks crowded pines out of the overstory. The understory has winnowed to bare patches of sand or, in other places, has become overgrown with saw palmettos. This process created a plant community called a xeric hammock. The habitat needs a controlled burn to return to its previous composition. But according to our Forest Service guides, it might be a while before that happens.
Even so-changed, the Warea Tract feels like a remote oasis, a shelter to plants and animals alike that it would be easy to miss if we don’t pay attention. So, I drove slowly through tight thickets of oaks hanging low with Spanish moss. Once the path ended, we disembarked and set out through the wilderness on foot, searching for the GPS coordinates of the plot stakes marked by the foresters. When we reached one, we would stretch out ropes to make a plot then comb through the undergrowth to find these tiny violet flowers. We marked each specimen with a flag then removed the flags to make our count.
The name Polygala comes from the Greek polys, which means “many or much,” and gala, which means “milk.” This is because it was once believed that the presence of Polygala species in cow fields would result in higher milk production. So it’s no surprise we passed so many cows on our adventure.
As we worked, I studied the intricate ecosystem surrounding me. While I was writing, Gator Country in the Everglades, I realized that I had taken ecosystems just like Warea for granted all of my life. They had become mundane to me. I had let myself become immune to their wonders. So, as we worked, I was sure to be conscious of my surroundings, not just to see them or hear them—and okay, in some places to taste them. We did a little foraging. You would be surprised how many times someone has shoved a plant in my face in the woods and said, “Eat this.”—but to witness the small details that others might step over without a second glance. I thought of these lines from the epilogue of Gator Country:
“For years, I had seen my home as little more than a backwater. I had let people convince me that the clichés about Florida were true. I found myself wishing that I was from someplace interesting, someplace that mattered. Then, as I researched Jeff ’s story, I started learning to see the world as he saw it. I learned the names of birds and flowers, of trees and fish, and it shocked me how I’d failed to notice the many extraordinary and wonderful things that had made the backdrop of my young life. I was struck to discover that the little purple flowers that peek their heads over the mud, making the swamp a riot of color in the right season, were orchids. They were rare and beautiful, yet I had let them grow mundane to me. How many orchids have I stepped over without a second look? I wondered. Hundreds.”
An ecosystem’s health is only as good as its smallest member. Even though polygala are tiny, they are vital to their ecosystem. Every species is connected, and we overlook the smallest at our peril. An ecosystem is like a body: every part, no matter how small, has a critical function in keeping our bodies healthy, whether we realize it or not. By taking the time to understand and protect species like the Polygala lewtonii, we not only safeguard individual plants but also contribute to the resilience of the entire ecosystem.
In the face of mounting environmental challenges, engaging in local conservation efforts is more crucial than ever. Whether it's counting wildflowers in a local habitat or participating in broader conservation initiatives, each action we take plays a vital role in preserving the natural heritage of our communities. With these efforts, I hope future generations can experience the beauty and diversity of the natural world as we have.
Thanks for doing your part, too. Tell me about it: What small steps have you taken to help preserve the natural world?
Yours truly,
Rebecca
I’m current reading Foster by Claire Keegan. It is an international bestseller and one of The Times’ “Top 50 Novels Published in the 21st Century.” Winner of the prestigious Davy Byrnes Award, at 90-ish pages, Foster is a quick read, and the writing is poetic and painstakingly beautiful.
The setting of the book is a hot summer in rural Ireland. A girl is taken by her father to live with relatives on a farm, not knowing when or if she will be brought home again. In the Kinsellas’ house, she finds an affection and warmth she has not known and slowly, in their care, begins to blossom. But there is something unspoken in this new household—where everything is so well tended to—and this summer must soon come to an end.
Would you read this book?
That’s all for this week, folks! Follow me on Tik Tok, Twitter, Facebook, Threads, and Bluesky for more
Thank you, Rebecca. I just happened upon this. I am a Florida native in Tampa, lifelong educator and writer, writing a series of poems on endangered Florida wildflowers. I came across your site as I was researching. I appreciate the work you're doing to educate and enlighten and to spark wonder in our state citizens and visitors. I look forward to buying and reading Gator Country and to reading more of your posts.
I respect your journey getting embedded in the true ecosystem of Florida. Florida a mass built upside down. The Everglades are a higher sandstone than Jacksonville were the St John's River. The air plants our grandfather pointed out while fishing was really an orchid. Thanks for sharing your journey with all