By Jan TenBruggencate
Advertiser Columnist

Clouds drifted across the mile-high bogs of the Alaka'i swamp on a recent Sunday, leaving a chill moisture on the skin, and the distinctive vegetation.

Here is an environment that gets more interesting the more you learn about it.

And fortunately for our hiking group, we were accompanied by three knowledgeable University of Hawai'i graduate students in botany: Stephanie Dunbar, Ane Bakutis and Katherine Postelli.

Each had, as botanists should, a deep interest in the plants, and also in the birds, pollinators and lots more.

They argued fine points of identification: Was that plant near the Kilohana lookout a lobelia or a trematolobelia?

Then someone spotted a dried flower stalk from last season. Ah, trematolobelia.

The lobelia and its relatives are among the showpieces of the Hawaiian wet forest, with amazing recurved flowers in blinding whites and pale creams, lavenders and purples, scarlets and pinks.

There's a big, bright lemon yellow flower that otherwise looks like a lobelia blossom, but it's not. This is a cousin to the beach naupaka, although only an ardent observer or a scientist could find the resemblance.

Early Hawaiians saw the relationship, too, and called it 'ohe naupaka.

On a steep green cliff face, the botanists picked out a rare gunnera plant, a fleshy species with leaves that are commonly 3 feet across and can approach 6 feet across.

We came across one of the familiar plants of the Hawaiian forest, the native hydrangea.

It has leaves that are smaller than those of the garden variety hydrangea, and its flowers are not as showy. Blooms tend to be purplish, and come in several shades. But if you look at the plant and know your garden plants, you'd clearly see the relationship.

Although most people may know the hydrangea as kanawao, in Hawaiian it is properly known as pu'ahanui, said one of our botanical guides.

While most hikers tromped through erect and marching, the botanists regularly crouched over flowering sedges or peered at Hawaiian forest birds flitting among the branches.

One of our team of botanists slipped out of her slippers and walked barefoot across the bog to inspect a plant. Whether it was a relic of hula training, a simple sign of respect, or an attempt to better feel the undergrowth to limit damage her passage might cause, I couldn't tell.

But it seemed appropriate in this upland natural museum.

Jan TenBruggencate is The Advertiser's Kauai bureau chief and its science and environment writer. You can call him at (808) 245-3074 or e-mail jant@honoluluadvertiser.com.