Ghost Pipe: Tiny Apparitions of the Forest Floor

It is early morning in late August. I’m on a walk on the Ridge Trail, a grassy, forested trail that wraps around the marshlands on the eastern edge of the Arboretum. This trail takes me deep into the oak forest, which is still cool and dim in the dappled light of the morning sun squeezing through the dense canopy of trees. 

Barred owl at the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum. Photo: Alyssa Gregory

Directly ahead of me, a branch shakes suddenly, followed by rapid rustling of leaves and feathers. I startled a barred owl! She flew deeper into the woods and glared at me from a fallen branch. I would not have noticed her if it weren’t for this disturbance. I had not been looking up at all — I had my eyes glued to the forest floor. I am searching for ghost pipes.

Ghost pipes appear as small, pale shocks of white among the brown and gray fallen leaves. I’ve started to spot them in the woods beside the trail. Some stand solitary, some in small clusters like tiny flocks of long-necked birds. The stems of the ghost pipes usually grow no taller than 8 inches, so they are easy to miss among the carpet of leaves and undergrowth. 

These plants thrive in areas like the oak forest – dense, shaded areas carpeted by leaf litter. Photo: Alyssa Gregory

Ghost pipes spend most of their life underground, emerging from the soil only to spread their seeds. Each plant bears a single flower, which gracefully curves downward when the plant first emerges from the ground. This feature gives the plant its scientific name, monotropa uniflora — monotropo, meaning “once turned,” and uniflora, meaning “one flower.”

At this stage, I think the ghost pipe looks like cocktail shrimp.

What gives the ghost pipe its ghostly appearance? Most plants get their nutrients from the process of photosynthesis, in which the green pigment of the plant, chlorophyll, captures the energy of the sun to create sugars for the plant. The ghost pipe bypasses this process by tapping into another source: the networks of mycorrhizal fungi that, in turn, get their nutrients from the roots of trees. 

In just a few weeks the ghostly white flowers have already begun to darken, their stems and leaves turning dark brown. They are no less beautiful, and they remind me of spires of tiny Gothic cathedrals. Having lost their pure white appearance, they are almost invisible among the grays and browns of the forest floor. 

I want to capture every detail of the plant before they disappear into the understory, so I sketched three stalks with black and brown ink.

There is something special about witnessing these fleeting moments in nature. Even more special is sharing these moments with others.I learned about this fascinating, but little known plant when I was working on the horticulture crew of Three Rivers Park district last summer. My friend, Alana, spotted some while working, and her excitement about the plant was infectious. 

Alyssa searching for ghost pipes.

Sharing an enthusiasm for the natural world is what I love about my jobs — at the Bell Museum supporting community engagement events and working at the Horticultural Library at the Arboretum!

About the Author

Alyssa is a library assistant at the Andersen Horticultural Library at the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum, where she coordinates the Flora and Fauna Illustrata Project and curates the children’s book collection. She also supports the Bell Museum’s outreach events, where she enjoys bringing specimens and activities from the Bell to communities around the Twin Cities Metro. When not at work, Alyssa enjoys hiking at Minnesota State Parks and exploring nature through different forms of art. Right now, she is taking a class at the Minnesota School of Botanical Art, drawing tiny snail shells in silverpoint.