The Insect Killing Tobacco Plant (Nicotiana insecticida) © Maarten Christenhusz. from https://www.kew.org/read-and-watch/insect-killer-tobacco

Dear Readers, in a break from tradition I thought that this week I’d share some of last year’s new plant discoveries with you all. I am unlikely to find any of these plants appearing in Coldfall Wood or popping up from a crack in the pavement, but they are all, in their own ways, astonishing.

First up is the insect-killing tobacco plant (Nicotiana insecticida), discovered in the Australian desert by Professor Mark W Chase. These regions are extremely arid, and haven’t been much studied because it was assumed that not much could grow there. However, Professor Chase and his team have discovered no less than 7 new species of desert tobacco plant, a difficult undertaking because many of them can remain in the soil as seeds for years until just the right conditions arise.

Nicotiana insecticida is covered in sticky glands that catch aphids, gnats and other small invertebrates. The Professor doesn’t think that Nicotiana insecticida is a truly carnivorous plant yet – the glands appear to be for defensive purposes, to protect the plant against predation. However that’s probably how many of our more familiar insect-eating plants, such as the sundew, got their start, so it would be interesting to see how things develop.

Nicotiana insecticida stem with trapped insects © Maarten Christenhusz.https://www.kew.org/read-and-watch/insect-killer-tobacco

Next up is the Star of the Forest (Didymoplexis stella-silvae),  discovered along with 16 other ‘ghost orchid’ species in Madagascar by Kew scientists Johan Hermans and Phill Cribb in collaboration with with Landy Rajaovelona and Malagasy researchers at the Kew Madagascar Conservation Centre.

The plant grows in almost complete darkness and depends on fungi for its energy (I am currently reading Merlin Sheldrake’s ‘ Entangled Life’ on the relationships between fungi and other parts of the ecosystem so this comes as no surprise). The star-like flowers only appear directly after rain, and disappear 24 hours later.

Of the 16 species discovered, 3 were already thought to have become extinct by the time the scientific paper was published, such is the speed of change in our industrialising world. One species was probably eradicated when its forest habitat was destroyed to grow geranium oil, much used by Western aromatherapists. A second species was probably lost during a climate-change driven flash flood. The third plant now only exists as a single specimen in cultivation in Europe.

Ghost orchid (Didymoplexis stella-silvae) © Johan Hermans/RBG Kew. Website https://www.kew.org/read-and-watch/top-10-species-named-2021

Five new species of Streptocarpus (Cape Primrose) were named during 2021, all discovered in the Democratic Republic of Congo. While many Streptocarpus species are popular houseplants, in the wild they are often very localised and vulnerable to habitat distruction. One species, Streptocarpus malachiticola,  is particularly threatened – it grows on malachite, which is one of the ores from which copper is mined. Global copper prices are at an all-time high, and this plant, which grows in only three locations, is assessed as Endangered by the IUCN.

Cape primrose Streptocarpus malachiticola © Julie Lebrun from https://www.kew.org/read-and-watch/top-10-species-named-2021

And finally, a plant that is very close to my heart. This one comes from the forests of Borneo, which you might remember I saw first-hand during my 60th birthday trip back in 2020 (which feels like several millenia ago). The Firework Plant (Ardisia pyrotechnica), was named by a group of Malaysian and Japanese scientists in collaboration with Kew’s Tim Utteridge. It is a spectacular plant, growing up to 4 metres tall and covered in white flowers. However, I also witnessed first-hand the size of the palm oil plantations, and the way that they seem to devour the tropical rainforest. The Firework Plant ( a member of the primrose family) has been found in only two locations, and there are only a handful of individual plants, so it has already been classified as Critically Endangered by the IUCN.

Firework flower Ardisia pyrotechnica © Shuichiro Tagane from https://www.kew.org/read-and-watch/top-10-species-named-2021

What this list really illustrates is that as fast as we’re finding plants, we’re in danger of losing them. There is no way of sweetening that bitter pill.

Dear Readers, spring ephemerals are woodland plants that come into flower very early, before the leafy canopy has developed, and then disappear. They are amongst my very favourite plants, and so today I thought I’d see how good you are at identifying them. This quiz is a simple case of matching the name to the photo.

As usual, you will have until 5 p.m. UK time on Friday 4th February to put your answers in the comments, and the results will be published on Saturday 5th February. I will disappear your answers as soon as I see them, but there may be a delay, so you might want to write your answers on a piece of paper first if you’re easily influenced!

So if you think Photo One is of Plant Species A, your answer is 1) A)

Onwards! And I hope you enjoy the photos – they remind me that spring is on the way….

Plant Species

A) Lesser celandine (Ranunculus ficaria)

B) Spring snowflake (Leucojum vernum)

C) Snowdrop (Galanthus nivalis)

D) Winter aconite (Eranthis hyemalis)

E) Wood anemone (Anemone nemerosa)

F) Squill (Scilla siberica)

G) English Bluebell (Hyacinthoides non-scripta)

H) Spring crocus (Crocus vernus)

I) Cowslip (Primula veris)

J) Oxlip (Primula elatior)

K) Wood Sorrel (Oxalis acetosella)

L) Common Dog Violet (Viola riviniana)

Photos

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12)

The lime tree (Tilia platyphyllos)

Dear Readers, when I used to visit Mum and Dad in Milborne St Andrew in Dorset I would always make a special pilgrimage to see this extraordinary lime tree. Horses and sheep used to gather in its shade, and you could smell its distinctive creamy/fruity scent, and hear the sound of the drowsy bees gathering its nectar, from fifty feet away. Alas, when I visited back in November the tree had disappeared, blown down during the autumn storms. So this post is by way of a memorial, and a celebration. Lime trees can reach a good age (the oldest are thought to be about 2000 years old), which makes the demise of this one even sadder.

Lime blossom

There are two species of lime tree native to the UK – the large-leaved lime, as seen in the photos, and the small-leaved lime (Tilia cordata). The hybrid between the two, Tilia x europaea, is the original street tree, predating the now ubiquitous London Plane. The tree has absolutely nothing to do with the citrus lime, and the name is thought to be a corruption of the Old English word Lind. Known as the Linden in the rest of Europe, the tree used to line the avenues of many cities (Unter den Linden in Berlin for one). Alas, the tree also attracts aphids who emit torrents of honeydew, much to the disgust of the motorists who park underneath them. Plus, limes are relatively high-maintenance, requiring regular pruning to keep them in shape. Finally, with increased levels of pollution it was clear that the London Plane was more able to survive the rigours of smog and nitrous oxides. These days, there are still lime avenues in London, but they tend to be in the older, quieter parts of town, such as the Whitehall Estate in North London.

Lime trees on Gladsmuir Road

The wood of lime trees is soft and easy to work, with a fine grain and was a favourite of the sculptor Grinling Gibbons (1648 – 1721), who worked on pieces for Hampton Court, St Pauls Cathedral and Petworth House amongst other sites. It’s said that Gibbons often carved a closed peapod in his work, and that he would only carve it ‘open’ once he’d been paid. So, if you come across a Gibbons sculpture with a closed peapod, the poor man probably wasn’t paid for his labours.

Grinling Gibbons – detail from Hampton Court (Photo One)

In addition to its rich nectar, the lime tree provides plenty of food for caterpillars, the most spectacular of which is probably the lime hawk moth (Mimias tilae). This extraordinary moth can be found in a variety of colour morphs, from this rather green and pink individual through to moths striped in caramel and cream.

Lime Hawk-Moth (Mimas tilae) (Photo Two)

The caterpillars start out green, but turn brown when they’re fully fed. I especially like the blue and red spike at the back.

Lime Hawk-Moth caterpillar (Photo Three)

Lime trees are also prone to these rather fetching galls, known as nail galls and caused by the gall mite Eriophyes tilae. Galls are extraordinary because the invertebrates ‘persuade’ the plant to create these structures themselves. Nail galls act as protection for the young mites, and when they’re ready to leave they exit through tiny holes on the underside of the leaf, to wait in crevices in the bark for the following spring.

Nail galls

As regular readers will know, I’m also currently getting stuck into a variety of herbal teas, and I’m very intrigued by the idea of lime blossom. And linden honey sounds rather splendid too. What’s your experience, readers?

Lime flower tea (Photo Four)

And finally, here is a poem, which takes us full-circle back to the Unter den Linden, and to the power of taste and smell to evoke memory. The poet, Caroline Smith, wasn’t known to me before, but this is wonderful. I shall be keeping an eye open for more work by her.

Lime Tree Honey by Caroline Smith

The regulation for citizenship demands proof that
an applicant was in the UK exactly five years before
the date of application.

All she had brought with her
from that other life in the DDR
was a dill pickle jar filled with honey
made by his bees, from trees
in the Unter den Linden.
It would remain unopened,
a jar of time that could not change
but that preserved one day in their life together
as she had decided to remember it.

The honey held the burnished light
of an early morning leaving East Berlin
to take the swarm to the countryside
to pollinate an orchard.
It held the cobbled roads of the hamlets
they had meandered through:
the scent of flowering beans
through the open windows,
stalks of chaff that blew round the car,
the back of the old hatchback
bumping and scraping low behind them
with the packed hives, shifting –
and the restless hum of the bees.

In the shock that had enveloped her
after the release of her file
and the discovery of her husband’s
meticulous notes on her life,
she had searched back
as she prepared to leave Germany
for signs of his affection –
some drop of sweetness
she could extract from those years.

Photo Credits

Photo One by By Camster2 – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=6521009

Photo Two by Patrick Clement from West Midlands, England, CC BY 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

Photo Three by https://c40.ent.box.com/file/692228531096

Photo Four by Marco Verch Professional at https://www.flickr.com/photos/30478819@N08/49162296282