The wacky, wonderful world of orchids.

By Susan Stephens

According to a report by the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew in 2016, there are around 391,000 species of plants in the world and around 94% of these are flowering plants. Plants are grouped in families based on their physical and genetic characteristics. One of the largest flowering plant families is the Orchidaceae, or Orchid family with around 28,000 species, so around 10% of all flowering plant species. Recent DNA research shows that at over 90 million years old, orchids are amongst the most ancient of the flowering plant families.

Orchids can be found throughout the world in every type of habitat and climatic zone apart from the

Coelygene cristata

very driest deserts and glaciers, and on every continent except Antarctica. The majority of orchids are found in the tropics of Asia, South America and Central America and new species are constantly being discovered, particularly in these areas. Their tiny, dust like seed that has enables orchids to disperse and travel great distances, carried on the wind across oceans and continents to colonise the world. The majority of these tropical and sub tropical orchids are epiphytes and grow anchored to trees. They are not parasitic and so do not feed upon the tree but absorb water and nutrients from the rain, air and other debris that collects nearby with the aid of their aerial roots; the tree to enables them to reach higher elevations and so have more access to sun and air. An example of epiphytes you can see in the Garden is the Dendrobium; Dendrobium, derives from the Greek dendron meaning tree and bios meaning life. It literally means “one who lives on trees” or essentially epiphyte.

Dactylorhiza fuchsii

Terrestrial orchids grow on the ground and can be found in places as diverse as the hot, dry Australian deserts to the shade of temperate woodlands. They are found in areas of Russia extending to the very edge of the Arctic Circle. All of the 52 or so species of orchid found in the UK are terrestrial orchids including Ophrys apifera (the bee orchid) and Dactylorhiza fuchsii (the common spotted orchid).

Lithophytes are somewhere between the epiphytes and terrestrials in that they make their homes on rocky cliff faces. They obtain their nutrients and water in a similar way to epiphytes relying upon regular mists and rain for moisture. Extra moisture is obtained from roots that meander and penetrate into the crevices in the rocks. Some species of Paphiopedilum and Pleiones are lithophytes.

Orchids use a wide range of inventive methods to attract pollinators. Most orchids rely on specific

Ophrys apifera, the
bee orchid

pollinators and in most cases orchid and pollinator have evolved together. Nectar is the main reward to entice pollinators but also use of colour, shape, fragrance and sometimes mimicry is applied. Orchids attracting butterflies and hummingbirds are brightly coloured but not necessarily fragrant while orchids which wish to attract moths and night flying insects are usually white or green and very fragrant at night. The Bulbophyllum species of orchid are brown or fleshy red and are foul smelling to attract the flies which pollinate them. Some orchids deceive their pollinators by mimicking the appearance and scents produced by female insects. The male insect will attempt to mate with the false female and in the process, the orchid deposits pollen on the insects head which he carries to the next flower.

The orchid family is probably one of the most important plant families from a horticultural point of view and are grown for the amazing variety

and beauty of their flowers. Enthusiasts will pay thousands of pounds for a rare specimen. Otherwise, considering the size of the family, orchids have very few commercial uses. The only commercially important product

Vanilla planifolia

derived from orchids is vanilla which is used for flavouring foods, drinks and cosmetics. Most vanilla is produced from one species, Vanilla planifolia. The plant is a climbing vine form of orchid native to Central and South America. Vanilla production today is mainly in Madagascar which is the largest producer of vanilla beans. However the island lacks the plant’s pollinating bee species so the flowers must be hand pollinated.
The underground tubers of a terrestrial orchid, usually Orchis mascula (early purple orchid) are ground to a powder and used for cooking, such as in the hot beverage salep or in the Turkish frozen treat dondurma. Traditional Chinese medicine uses orchids extensively for combating various different ailments. Of the thousands of species of orchids known to us, about 50 orchid species are used in Chinese herbal medications.

Pleione formosiana

Here at the garden we have a large display of around 75 different species of orchids mainly in the sub tropical and tropical glasshouse. These include epiphytes such as Coelogyne and Dendrobiumspecies many of which are displayed on our fake but very realistic trees in an effort to replicate their natural habitats. There are also many terrestial orchids displayed in pots in the sub tropical glasshouse

including Stenoglottis longifolia with it’s spikes of many small, lilac, speckled flowers and Paphiopedilumspecies often known as slipper orchids because of it’s pouch like lip. The amazing twining vines of Vanilla planifolium can be found in the tropical glasshouse. Outside in the Chinese Herb Garden, terrestial orchid Pleione are displayed in the summer and the Dactylorhiza fuchsii can be seen growing beside the lake. Whatever time of year you visit the garden you will always find orchids in flower in the tropical and sub tropical glasshouses. Right now Coelogyne cristata, an epiphytic orchid from the cool monsoon forests of the Himalayas, is covered in cascades of brilliant white flowers with a bright yellow centre and wavy petals. It has rounded pseudobulbs and the light scent of jasmine. Another Coelogyne flowering in the sub tropical glasshouse at the moment is Coelogyne flaccida with it’s long racemes of creamy white flowers with yellow and brown markings. It has a sweet, light scent and cone shaped pseudobulbs which resemble bananas. The Dendrochilum glumaceum which is native to the Phillipines, is putting on a fantastic display with masses of long feathery pendulous spikes containing two rows of small pure white flowers with a yellow lip and smelling of sweet hay.

Dendrochilum glumaceum

Why the complicated plant names? Here’s why…

By Nicola ‘Froggie’ Rathbone

I studied Latin at Secondary school. Not because I wanted to but because I had to at the time. Bam bas bat bamus batis bant. For some reason this has stuck in my head, as has ego sum (I am ) and salve magistra (greetings teacher). I never thought it would be of use to me until I became a gardener. It has been of great help in learning and more about plants and I am going to try and explain why and how you too can discover more about plants.


To start with. It’s not just Latin you will come across but Greek and Arabic derived words too. I am asked regularly, why can we not just use the common names? Why, because it helps to avoid confusion. We need a universal name, one it will be known by, the world over and then anyone, anywhere will know just which plant is being referred to. Take for example, the bluebell. We all know what it looks like in England, right? The Greek/Latin name is Hyacinthoides-non-scripta (Gobbledeygook you may think!) Cross into Scotland and if you asked to see a bluebell you may be directed to a Campanula rotundifolia (which the English would call the harebell). Fly over to North America and the bluebell is now Mertensia virginiana and in Australia, bluebell has got to be Sollya heterophylla. That’s four different plants with the same common name. Now that’s confusing.

Back to the Latin/Greek/Arabic derived names.  Think of them as providing

Bluebells…

you with more information about the plant. Clues as to which country the plant came from or perhaps the first person to see it growing in the wild. The name often describes the appearance of the leaves and the flowers and the habitat you would need to replicate if you want to grow it in your garden. The names may feature characters and narrate stories from Greek mythology and honour people of note through history.  Many English words are derived from Latin, Greek and Arabic and you will be surprised at how much you can actually understand. Now, back to bluebell. The English one. Hyacinthoides non-scripta. Here’s your challenge if you have time and want to know more and here’s a clue. Hyacinthus was a tragic Spartan prince and ‘non scripta’ means no writing . The rest of the story and how the English bluebell got this name is on the internet or in the library. If you would rather not and do not have time then when you next explore the garden look out for the following used to describe plants in some way.


Victoria amazonica

Geographical speaking, these describe where the plant originated from.

amazonica-of the Amazon basin (Victoria amazonica) the  giant waterlily and in honour of Queen Victoria
arabica -of Arabia (Coffea arabica) coffee
bristoliensis-of Bristol (Sorbus bristoliensis) Bristolian whitebeam
The habitat where the plant was grow in the wild.
maritima -by the sea (Crambe maritima) sea kale
montana -of mountains (Hypericum montanum)
sylvatica-of woods (Fagus sylvatica) beech
The growth habit of the plant.
arboreum-tree like (Aeonium arboreum ‘Swartzkopf’)
fastigiata -fastigiate/erect (Taxus baccata ‘Fastigiata’) upright yew
procumbens -procumbent/creeping (Fuchsia procumbens)
The leaves of Acer palmatum on
Ophiopogon planiscapus ‘Nigrescens’

Describe the leaf shape and the edge of the leaf. Also the size, texture and colour. The Latin phylla(um)(us) and folia(ium)(ius) mean leaf.

microphylla-small leaved (Fuchsia microphylla)
palmatum-palm shaped (Acer palmatum)
trifoliata-3 parts to leaf (Menyanthes trifoliata) bogbean
Describe the flower shape, size, colour and flowering time. The Latin flora(um)(us) means flower.
grandiflora-large flowered (Magnolia grandiflora)
stellata-starry (Magnolia stellata)
vernus  -spring flowering (Lathyrus vernus
Describes the colour of  leaves, flowers, wood.
nigrescens-black (Opiopogon planiscapus ‘Nigrescens’) black lily turf
purpureus-purple (Salvia officinalis ‘Purpureus’) purple leaved sage
sanguineum-blood red (Geranium sanguineum) bloody cranesbill
Describe scent and aroma of leaves, flowers, bark:-
citriodora-lemon scented (Aloysia citriodora) lemon verbena
fragrantissima-most fragrant (Lonicera x fragrantissima) honeysuckle
odoratus-sweet smelling (Lathyrus odoratus) sweet pea
Describe plants that have flowers or leaves that look like those of other plants:-
liliiflora-lily flowered (Magnolia liliiflora)
pseudoplatanus  -false plane (Acer pseudoplatanus) sycamore tree
tulipifera-tulip like (Liriodendron  tulipifera) tulip tree
Commemorative:-Named after botanists, plant hunters and for others, such as family members.
hookeriana– after Sir Joseph Hooker (Sarcococca hookeriana)
whiteana – after James Walter white (Sorbus whiteana)
Banksia– after Sir Joseph Banks (Banksia marginata)
Helleborus x hybridus

Miscellaneous descriptions:-

communis-common (Juniperus communis) juniper
hybrida-hybrid  (Helleborus x hybridus)
officinale-of the shop, herbal (Sachorum officinale) sugarcane
sativa-sown, planted or cultivated (Eruca sativa) rocket
vulgare-common  (Oreganum vulgare) common oregano or marjoram

Incidentally on your visit to the garden you will find that in the garden herbal displays, the plants tend to be also labelled with the common names, as they are known in their country of origin. Not all plants have a common name as we know it. Even in this text there are plants that do not have a common name and maybe you could suggest a few after visiting the garden!  If you are interested then search out a copy of the little black book, Plant Names Simplified, Botanical Latin by WT Stearn and the glossary of a copy of Hillier’s Manual of Trees and Shrubs. Or any of the other good books out there on plant names.
  
Hope to see you soon,

Froggie

Scent and spring promise

The garden has taken a battering over the last few weeks with high winds and the heavy soil saturating rain has made gardening difficult. Despite it all there is interest with flower, colour and scent now and the promise of it in the next few weeks.
One of my favourites and a true signpost of January/February is the winter aconite (Eranthis 

Eranthus hymalis

hymalis); in a few weeks it will dot the borders with tiny butter yellow flowers. Growing naturally in deciduous woodland, this plant flowers before the leaves on trees shade out the forest floor and as the sun strengthens as it gets higher in the sky.


In the phylogeny display a small plant with a big name, Scilla mischenkoana ‘tubergentana’, is flowering its little flowers. Native to Southern Russia and Iran this plant can grow in a variety of sites, shade or full sun, drought tolerant and very tough, just plant it where you’ll be able to see!


Daphne bholua ‘Jacqueline Postill’ is in full flower, you smell it before you see it as its heavy perfume drifts on the air a surprising distance. Native to Nepal you can imagine how the scent travels across the mountains to attract the elusive pollinators.
Daphne bholua ‘Jacqueline Postill’


In the Mediterranean display the Corsican hellebore (Helleborus argutifolius) is in full flower and the handsome foliage gives good structure to a winter border.  It grows all over Corsica and Sardinia but unusually has never made it onto the mainland of France or Italy.

Paphiopedalum
In the glasshouses orchids are flowering. Laelia anceps from Central America leans down from the corky trees and on the benches the hay scented orchid (Dendrobium glumaceum) and Venus slipper orchid (Paphiopedalum) are in full bloom.
As the weeks go by at this time of year more and more flower appears, the birds become excitable as do the bees and spring is around the corner and in our step.

by Andy Winfield

Hay scented orchid

Laelia anceps


Christmas and the Botanic Garden

By
Andy Winfield
Being out and about in the Garden gives a sense of the changing of the seasons, a sense brought about by the combination of light, temperature, wildlife and, of course, plants. This is felt most keenly at this time when we are the furthest from the sun that we will be, until next year. I find mid-winter an uplifting time; leafless trees show their bones and wildlife is easier to spot. It’s amazing how much life is flitting around in an old oak tree when you take the time to look into its branches. The sky seems bigger in winter and the sunsets more vivid. This might just be that we don’t get to see them so much in midsummer, but at this time of year we see the sun rise in the Garden and set in the Garden.

From this moment the days get a little longer and we begin to see

Witch Hazel in early January 2017

movement in the soil, small signposts to spring that don’t occur before midwinter. Snowdrops and winter aconite emerge in January; tiny and fragrant flowers emerge on shrubs such as witch-hazel, Daphne, winter flowering honey suckle and Christmas box. These plants need to attract the few pollinators that may be around from long distances, hence using strong scent rather that the colourful showy flowers we see through summer.


In the low sun and with the soundtrack of robins, crows and the odd fidgety group of goldfinches, we spend the winter tidying and weeding the borders knowing that they’ll stay tidy and weed free until spring. Structural work takes place on trees, landscaping of areas that need developing and of course repotting of collections inside. Winter can be hard work, but it keeps us warm and is always good to keep projects moving while we can.

A goldfinch eating the seeds
from a teasel plant.
Throughout the Christmas period someone must come into the Garden to water the glasshouses, check the boiler is working and eat the chocolates. So even on Christmas Day there is a member of staff working in the Garden for a few hours. In some ways it’s a nice to escape the Christmas mayhem for a while in the tranquillity of a warm glasshouse, unless of course there’s a small flood, snow or an electrical trip to deal with. Whatever happens on our Christmas duty there are many gifts brought in by our volunteers in the form of chocolate, cake, biscuits and pies, it is difficult not to pop a chocolate in our mouths when passing; sometimes the work means we pass quite a lot…

Our efforts on the left, Oaxaca market stall on right.
(right photo by Alejandro LinaresGarcia)

There is one Christmas tradition that we’ve been interested in for the last few years. Did you know that in the Mexican city of Oaxaca the 23rdDecember is the Noche de Los Rábanos, the Night of the Radishes. Since 1897 displays of ornately carved radishes have been a prominent part of the Oaxaca Christmas market; and here, many miles away, we’ve had a go on the 23rdfor the last four years. Maybe not as extravagant as the Mexican markets, but a good try.

Enjoy this midwinter break whatever you’re doing, and from the Botanic Garden we wish you all much laughter and warmth to take you into 2018.

Winter and the sacred lotus

By Matt Philpott, Botanic Garden
trainee
Late summer seems like a lifetime ago now the days are short and we’ve seen the first frosts of the season. But, if I cast my mind back to the first time I stepped into our tropical glasshouse this summer, as a shiny new trainee….I wiped clean my foggy glasses and was immediately blown away by the stunning Sacred Lotus (Nelumbo nucifera), in full flower in the pool. The vibrant colours and sheer height of the flowers looked stunning against the backdrop of green foliage in the glasshouse.


The Sacred Lotus is a fascinating plant that’s been cultivated in China for over 3,000 years. It’s now grown around the world, not just for the gorgeous flowers, but for deep cultural and religious significance to Hindus and Buddhists, as well as a source of medicine and food.


Nelumbo nucifera
It didn’t occur to me on that first day quite how much work goes on behind the scenes to keep this beautiful plant at its best every year. Over the last few months I’m very privileged to have found out how to grow the lotus first hand.


The Sacred Lotus is an aquatic perennial, which due to the short and cold UK winter days, slows down and enters a dormant period here in Bristol. While our tropical glasshouse is still pretty toasty in the winter, the pool isn’t heated. (A cold pool in a plus 20 degree room never fails to surprise me when I hop in!) During the winter, to ensure the best possible display when the lotus returns to growth in the next spring, we take the plants out of the pool to rest in cooler and drier conditions.


The lotus started to slow down and stopped flowering in our glasshouse in October and over a couple of weeks we gradually pruned back all of the remaining leaves. The lotus are potted up in containers to prevent them from completely taking over the tropical pool. Which means it’s possible to dig about in their muddy home and lift the pots out of the water. Having said that, it was still a three man job to lift the water logged lotus out of the water! They sat on the sides of the pool (releasing a pungent smell of decomposition) before we tidied them up and moved them to a cooler glasshouse where they’ll recuperate over winter, ready for a burst of growth in spring.


Having spent a day pulling the plants out of a muddy pool I can certainly understand why Buddhists see the lotus as a symbol of beauty and purity – when contrasted with the dark mud they grow out of.


Buddha on a lotus throne.
The loss of the lotus has left the pool looking just a little bit bare at this time of year. That is apart from the ever-present Duckweed, which never fails to impress me with how quickly it jumps back after a day of netting! The pool might be sparse right now, but it will all be worth it when our visitors enjoy the majesty of the complex and beautiful flowers of the Sacred Lotus next year.


So, here’s looking forward to longer days. I now know what it takes to put on that amazing summer lotus show and feel I’ve earnt the joy of looking at them next year just that little bit more.

Botanical treasures on the beach

By Helen Roberts

Beachcombing is fun no matter what your age. Shells, pieces of driftwood and cloudy coloured glass somehow find a way into pockets, rucksack compartments and lunchboxes. A holiday to Slapton, in the South Hams, over the summer cemented our family’s curiosity in scouring the beaches. But whilst beachcombing, I was also similarly intrigued by the plants growing in this environment.

The coast here has a constantly shifting flora highly specialised for growing in difficult conditions. There is a shingle ridge that runs parallel to the shoreline, dividing the lake (Slapton Ley) from the sea. The plants that I discovered along the ridge path that runs northeast from the village of Torcross looked so intrinsically a part of the place, that to me they amplified the essence of this unique shingle coast.

All of the species on the shingle ridge have evolved ways of coping with difficult coastal conditions. The plants here are frequently subjected to saline spray and blown salts, high winds, exposure to hot summer temperatures and low soil humidity. The physical makeup of the shingle (it is a mix of flint, chert and quartz intermixed with some finer material) means that the substrate is very free draining and this results in the acute leaching of nutrients.

Thick leaves and deep roots

Most species that grow here have developed a cuticle (the protective film covering the leaf) that resists the entry of salt water or the leaves are sclerophyllous (thick, waxy and leathery). Often leaves are succulent and allow more effective retention of water.

Giant leaved sea kale (Crambe maritima)
Photo credit: Peganum [via Flickr CC BY-SA 2.0]

White hairs on the leaf surface, which give a silvery hue, are also adaptive in preventing evaporation as they trap moisture, conserving water within their microclimate. The yellow horned-poppy (Glaucium flavum) has hairy sclerophyllous leaves. This is a toxic but striking perennial, with bright yellow flowers that later produce a stunning display of long horned seedpods. This plant has an extremely deep root system in order to access water deep down, but this also helps with stability during high winds.

Other plants on the shingle bar include the beautifully architectural rock samphire (Crithmum maritimum) and the giant leaved sea kale (Crambe maritima), the latter becoming popularised through its abundance in Derek Jarman’s extraordinary shingle garden near Dungeness. Sea kale taproots reach depths of up to 2 metres, providing them with a significant anchor in coastal winds.

Lying low

Restharrow (Ononis repens) is a common beach dweller.
Photo credit: Matt Lavin [via Flickr CC BY-SA 2.0]

Some plants have adapted a slightly different approach to coastal living. They nestle down as low as they can and spread horizontally to reduce the amount of surface area exposed to the hammering winds. The small fleshy leaves of the sea campion (Silene uniflora) are closely packed and the plant grows in low mats. It is only the flowering branches, with their pretty white flowers and inflated bladders, much like calyx, that dare poke their heads up into the wind. Restharrow (Ononis repens) is an attractive low creeping aromatic herb with hairy stems and small pink pea-like flowers. The evaporation of essential oils released by aromatic plants is thought to cool the environment around the plant and thereby protect it from periods of extreme heat. Restharrow also has an extensive root system. Other species like chicory (Cichorium intybus), viper’s-bugloss (Echium vulgare), thrift (Armeria maritima), wild carrot (Daucus carota) and bird’s-foot-trefoil (Lotus corniculatus) all grow on the shingle ridge and are highly prized by pollinating insects.

These species have adapted to this environment. Although the ridge is only a narrow two metre strip of shingle, it displays a wonderful mosaic of disturbed ruderal* vegetation that forms a linear ribbon of interesting shapes, forms and flowers. Observing this particular plant habitat has helped me in the development of my own gravel garden at home. Some of these species are better suited to a garden environment and so I will begin with these. Although, more often than not it’s a matter of trial and error when trying to take plants outside of the conditions in which they thrive. Beth Chatto’s famous mantra, ‘Right plant, right place’ springs to mind and is always in my thoughts when I am planting my own garden or designing for other people.

*Ruderal is a term in botany that refers to plants that grow on waste ground or among rubbish.

 Helen Roberts is a trained landscape architect with a background in plant sciences. She is a probationary member of the Garden Media Guild and a regular contributor to the University of Bristol Botanic Garden blog.

The chemical allure of plants

We have all been drawn in by that scent carried on a spring breeze – something sweet or fruity, maybe even spicy or with a hint of citrus. If we’re lucky enough, we might even find the source and bury our noses among the petals in order to fill our head with the aroma. We, and ancient cultures before us, have been besotted by the chemical allure of plants.

Recently, I wrote about the ‘Scent of winter’ in the Botanic Garden and how winter blooming plants tend to be incredibly fragrant in order to attract pollinators at this time of year. I immediately wanted to dive into the science behind floral fragrances, but quickly learned that this was a discussion all on its own…perhaps even a tome.  

The scents associated with plants are produced by a mixture of chemical compounds known as volatile organic compounds (VOCs). They are described as volatile because they have a low boiling point, which means they are gases at room-temperature. It is these VOCs that are extracted as essential oils for aromatherapy or medicinal purposes, and that are carried on the wind in order to attract pollinators from long distances.

No two scents are the same

Due to the incredible variety of compounds and small differences in the relative abundances of these compounds, no two scents are exactly the same. In fact, insects are able to use these individualised scents to discriminate between individual flowers of a single species. This can be very important for pollinators as they can distinguish flowers that might offer a greater reward by having more nectar than others.

Scent is particularly important for plants that are pollinated by night-feeding animals like moths or bats, and it is also clearly important in winter when there are fewer pollinators about. Generally speaking, sweet smelling flowers tend to attract bees and flies, while strong musty, spicy or fruity odours attract beetles.

Specialised chemical cocktails

However, the chemical allure of plants is far more complex than just a sweet smell wafting on the breeze. Some species have become so incredibly specialised with their chemical cocktails, that they mimic the natural chemical signals of animals – pheromones – in order to attract pollinators.

One of the most successful groups of mimics is the orchids and within this group, perhaps the best known for their trickery are the bee orchids (Orphys). Not only have the flowers evolved petals that look like a female bee or wasp resting on the flower, the petals also give off an enticing scent that mimics the female’s pheromones. The male bees are lured in by the smell and “mate” with their deceptive petals, with nothing more to show for it than a dusting of pollen. The male will then carry the pollen to the next flower that tricks him.

Another orchid, Dendrobium sinense has a scent that mimics the honey bee alarm pheromone, which attracts hunting hornets as pollinators.

It’s not always about attracting pollinators…

Of course, the scent given off by plants isn’t always about attracting pollinators. Some plants use scent to attract predators and parasitoids of herbivorous insects. When the leaves of these plants are under attack by the herbivores, they will produce more VOCs, which not only bring in the predatory recruits, they also signal neighbouring plants to take action. For example, Lima beans (Phaseolus lunatus) will begin to secrete extrafloral nectar if a neighbouring Lima plant is under attack. This amplifies the call for help and attracts even more natural predators into the battle zone.

…and it’s not always a nice smell

I spent nearly 20 years on the west coast of Canada, the home of Lysichiton americanus. Anyone who has encountered the fragrance of this plant while walking in the wet coastal forests, knows where it gets its common name, skunk cabbage. The distinctive odour might be offensive to humans but for scavenging flies and beetles, which pollinate the plant, it signals the smell of something rotting and definitely worth investigation.

So, while I don’t recommend burying your nose in the flower of a skunk cabbage, it is definitely worth taking a moment to stop and smell the roses…just be sure a bee isn’t in there!