The Hidden Crown - Cryptostephanus vansonii

When it comes to growing classy plants there are few that can match up to the genus Clivia. Everything about them is refined. They are of modest size and modest in their growth rate. The leaves are broad, dark-green straps that in the best forms sit neatly in a fan, one stacked on top of the next, in the form of an open book. The flowers arise from the centre of the plant on a long stalk forming a head of up to 25 or so flowers that nestles just at leaf height or slightly above it. The flowers are not subtle, being bright orange, yellow, red or a combination of these and varying in intensity. The flowers, however, are very regular in shape, at least in the most popular Clivia miniata. The plant in flower looks like an artificial plant. The genus even has royal connections, being named after Lady Charlotte Florentia Clive the duchess of Northumberland. The name of the genus is therefore pronounced Clive-e-a, recognizing the name of the person the plant is named after, not Cliv-e-a!

My first experience of Clivia was at Longwood Gardens just outside of Philadelphia. This huge display garden was set up by Pierre S. DuPont and is carried on today by a committee of management. Longwood is one of the worlds premier gardens. A major feature at Longwood is the the huge set of conservatories. These are large enough to support trees and lawns and expansive beds of ever-changing displays of stunning plants. Each season there is a different set of plants to brighten up the conservatories. In one of the conservatories there is a huge water display, including fountains set amongst landscaped gardens. At one end of this conservatory is a large terrace on which to sit and admire the scenery. On either side of the entrance door there are two huge earthenware pots imported from China and tastefully decorated with patterns. In each of these pots is a creamy-yellow form of Clivia miniata. I might add that the pots are about one metre across and the leaves of the plant arch out over the edge of the pots by about 1/2 metre. These are seriously impressive plants, attractive even when not in flower. When in flower they are breathtaking. The individual cultivar grown at Longwood Gardens is one of the most sought after cultivars of Clivia miniata. A division of this plant sold for US$2200 at the Longwood Gardens Rare Plant Auction held by the Professional Gardener Alumni Association in 2000.

East Conservatory November 2007

The white pyramid at the far end is a trained Chrysanthemum

East Conservatory February 2007

West Conservatory November 2007
Amazingly trained Chrysanthemums

West Conservatory and Fern Floor (in distance) November 2007

My cousin Haydon is in middle of path. The yellow, white and orange flowers are Chrysanthemums!

It was not until several years ago that I actually aquired several plants of Clivia. About 10 years or so ago, Clivia started to flood onto the market here in Melbourne. They became the new fashion in gardens. They became so common that you could buy them in nearly every outlet that sold plants, including supermarkets! Shortly after the first flush of poor quality Clivias hit the market, better forms started coming from more reputable growers. Cultivars such as 'Twins', 'Monk', 'Painted Face and others had wider, shorter and neater leaves and larger, well-shaped orange flowers. Some clever dick predicted the trend for novelty and flooded the market with seedling grown yellow cultivars. These commanded seriously high prices and still do. A seedling with 6 leaves and about 30cm high cost approximately $40. Most of these were several years off flowering. I wonder how many of them actually lived to flower? Yes, I bought one.

My other purchases were several cultivars imported from Japan by a specialist. These were bought as seed for $10 each! Thankfully, Clivia seed is very easy to raise as long as you have the patience. These Japanese Clivias are now 10 years old and have yet to flower. One lives in hope. I might add here that the Japanese and Taiwanese grow Clivia primarily for their leaves and not their flowers. This may explain why I have such beautiful plants and no flowers.

My friend Rob, who is a mad Clivia grower, belongs to a Clivia club. Yes, there are clubs devoted just to growing Clivia. These people are even more seriously weird than that orchid people. They see differences where most people don't. They also have bizarre interpretations of what various colours are. I have yet to see a white or pink Clivia that is not truly yellow or orange. Oh well, maybe if their hope is strong enough they will actually believe their plants are white and pink!

About 8 years ago, Rob went on a trip to New South Wales to do the rounds of his Clivia friends. He always drives so that he can bring back a carload of plants. I told him before he left if he found any dwarf cultivars could he pick me up a seedling or so. Two weeks later one seedling appeared. Woo Hoo! My Clivia collection was up to 6 plants. Being a collection of only six plants means that they get more attention than the collections that have more numerous members. This little seedling was put in a 6-inch pot, watered and fed. I didn't expect flowers for many years.

The following spring I noticed two side growths coming off this very small plant and a flower spike forming in the centre of the plant. It was great! Not only had Rob found me a dwarf plant he found a micro-mini! Seriously, this plant was only 8 inches tall with 6 leaves on the main growth. I moved it to the greenhouse bench to keep it away from slugs and rabbits. This plant was going to bloom come hell or high water. Well, it did bloom but it wasn't a Clivia. The flowers were small and whitish pink. I called Rob asking if he knew what it was. He then called his friend, but as his friend was suffering from dementia he didn't remember Rob and couldn't remember that he actually grew Clivias. No luck there. Well, at least it was in the family Amaryllidaceae. That was a good start.

After a few unsuccessful tries I had luck. It was a Cryptostephanus. Great. Only three species in Cryptostephanus, thank goodness. Corona 6 segments, nope. Corona 12 segments, yep. Flowers darkly pigmented, purple to black, nope. Flowers pale, white to pastel pink, yep, C. vansonii!!!!! Easy. The species was only described in 1943. It is a narrow endemic that occurs in the Bvumba and southern Chimanimani Mountains of Zimbabwe. It grows as a lithophyte or a forest floor plants. The roots are very thick and covered with velamen (a spongy covering that holds water). The roots don't really penetrate into the soil but creep laterally through the leaf litter and mosses of its preferred habitat.

The Cryptostephanus species range in colour from white through pinks and purples to black-purples. It was originally thought that Cryptostephanus would breed with Clivia. The hybridizers hoped to introduce new colours into Clivia especially purples, pinks and whites. Well, it didn't work. They may be closely related according to the taxonomists and they even look it to the average Joe but obviously the plants can tell the difference. Until now there have been no successful hybrids. Avoiding the hand of the hybridist is not a bad thing. Maybe this is the way that Cryptostephanus thumbs its nose at we mere mortals!

One nice thing about this plant is that it has avoided recognition in the horticultural press and nearly every botanical work. This is surprising because it has very beautiful flowers followed by dense clusters of orange-red berries that hang on the plant until it flowers the following year. Flowering last for months, much longer than Clivia. I feel privileged that through a mistake this plant found its way into my collection. The original collector has gotten several crops of seeds from the plant he accidentally gave away. So has Rob. I saved several last year and sowed them around the parent plant. It took them 10 months but there are three baby Cryptostephanus coming up in the pot.

The picture below is what this plant looked like when it flowered this spring. Did I mention they are slightly fragrant? The whole plant is only about 30cm high and grows happily in a 8 inch pot. I can grow 6 of them in the space one Clivia takes up. As they say in California 'this is a keeper'.

BTW, the name Cryptostephanus means Hidden Crown, literally Crypto - hidden and Stepanus - Crown. The names Stephen, Steve, Stefan and Stephanie all come from the same derivation. The name refers to the small corona (petal appendages) at the summit of the tube of the flower. You can see them as little yellow or dark pink 'teeth' at the point where the petals form a tube in the flowers below.

Cryptostephanus vansonii
Flowering October 2008


Cryptostephanus vansonii
September 2009
(Same inflorescence as above)

Cymbidium Maureen Carter

The internet is a wonderful thing. It has allowed me to communicate with people all over the world that share my interests. Mostly, this communication has been with plant people. Over the past couple of years I have been involved with a forum that deals exclusively with the plant genus Cymbidium. Believe it or not there of several of these forums but the one that I belong to is the one for advanced growers and breeders of these wonderful plants. I used to belong to the general forum for cymbidiums. Can you actually have a general forum for a specific topic? Well, you can. In the general forum there were a lot of people who were just getting into growing and would ask questions that most of us in our 'advanced' forum dealt with 25 or 30 years ago. It can get a bit tedious in a general forum when you really want to get into some seriously challenging discussion.

Over the period of involvement in the Cymbidium forumI have developed some serious pen friends. It is amazing how much you can get to know about certain aspects of people by communicating with them nearly daily, even if it is on the net. We even get to the point of teasing each other about our tastes in plants. Last week one of the guys on the net, (I have actually known this guy for nearly 30 years) mentioned that a plant was very 'Chuckish'. He was referring to my taste in reference to the general form of a Cymbidium flower that was inferred from my various postings on the forum. A couple of days later one of the other members posted a picture of a plant that he labelled 'Ultra Chuckish'. I had been turned into an adjective!!!

The summary of my taste in plants created a good laugh for me. Here I am going along thinking that there is some sort of protection and anonymity on the net. Well after two years of posting they know everything! The good thing about this 'knowledge' is that people actually alert you to certain plants that you may like, based on what they think you will like, gleaned from your postings. Interestingly, nearly 100% of the time they are absolutely correct.

My friend, who lives near me and who drops into the forum as a guest once-in-awhile, gave me some plants several years ago that fit the category of 'Ultra Chuckish'. One of the characteristics of Chuckish is spidery flowers. These types of flowers are not much appreciated in the western countries but are greatly appreciated in Asia. Another characteristic, again shared between myself and the Asian growers, is fragrance. Large, boofy perfectly rounded flowers with no fragrance are not for me. I like my orchids to look like orchids, not artificial, highly bred, showbench plants. The plants I grow will probably never end up with an award. To me though, they are stunning. This is why I grow the plants, for my pleasure, not awards.

Back to the plant my friend gave me. It is called Cymbidium Maureen Carter. It is a beautiful creamy white albino, with spidery flowers produced on bolt upright spikes. The plant is very free flowering and is a really strong grower. I loved it before I knew its history. Oh, it is also fragrant. This is where the net comes in. The plant was bred by my friend Andy Easton, who also bred the wonderful Cymbidium Kusuda Shining (the subject of an earlier post). Andy is one of the mainstays of the forum and has been a greater or lesser part of my life for longer than I would like to admit. Cymbidium Maureen Carter is named after my friend Cliffs Aunt. Cliff is also a mainstay of the forum. How do these men know each other? Well they both used to live in New Zealand and they were friends there. They are back together again on the forum even though Andy lives in the USA and Cliff in Australia.

So how did this plant come about and why when I look at other peoples plants of Maureen Carter do they look so different? The original plant was made with an albino Cymbidium sinense and Sleeping Beauty, itself an albino. So the plants would all come out albino and should be pretty consistant? Well it all depends on the type of albino you use. There are white, green and yellow albino forms of C. sinense. There are also diploid and tetraploids of most of them. Sleeping Beauty also comes in diploid and tetraploid forms and although generally pure white there are forms with pale yellow on the labellum (they are still albino though).

One of the difficulties with registration of orchids is that only the original grex name applies for registration purposes. There is no way to know what form of a plant has been used. For all we know C. Maureen Carter could be made with a dark brown form of C. sinense and a white and yellow albino of Sleeping Beauty. Thankfully, we do know what the original plant was bred from. The sinense used was a white albino and the Sleeping Beauty was also a pure white albino. As is the case in any breeding you can get slight throwbacks and a bit of yellow does show up in the newly opened flowers of C. Maureen Carter. Interestingly, both of the parents were diploid which means that the offspring were also diploid and fertile.

As is the case when something wonderful is created, someone else wants to have it. If they can't get hold of the original plant they remake the hybrid. This is where the skill and knowledge of the breeder comes to the fore. When this hybrid was remade, and it was remade several times, various yellow and green albino C. sinense were used and only the diploid forms. The tetraploids forms of sinense are very rare and exceedingly expensive, those who have them don't let just anyone have them. Unfortunately, the tetraploid forms of sleeping beauty were used in the remake. The result was a mishmash of yellows and greens with indifferent shape and poor coloration. Another real bummer was that all of the seedlings of these diploid X tetraploid crosses were triploid and sterile. Dead ends for breeding!

If you do a google search, for Cymbidium Maureen Carter you will see some of the products of these low quality crossings. Only one picture will come up that is close to the original and that is on the Santa Barbara Orchid Estate website. This last plant is closest to the original that was used by Cliff when he registered the cross. Cliff used C. Maureen Carter 'His and Hers' for registration of the cross. The SBOE plant looks as though it is probably from the original cross. A proper assay would have to be carried out to see if it is a diploid, triploid or tetraploid and therefor capable of breeding. There are a couple of yellowish-green Maureen Carters with the cultivar names 'Dafon' and 'Orchis'. There is even a lurid yellow cultivar called 'Fragrant Princess'. This last one has none of the charm of the original cross and also has a story that goes with it that does not bear repeating in polite company.

The photos are not of the best quality and my photography teacher has given me a 'Could do better' on my report card. Oh well, they were taken before I was getting lessons. I promise never to use a brown sheet as a backdrop for a white/cream flower ever again. and I will improve the light! I must thank Andy and Cliff and my friends on the forum for encouraging me to keep writing these stories. Undoubtedly, they will correct any of my factual errors before you read this post!

Cymbidium Maureen Carter 'Chichester'

Cymbidium Maureen Carter 'Chichester'

Pretty Pelargoniums

Pelargonium X ardens

One of the real pleasures of lining in a Mediterranean-type climate is the ability to grow a huge range of plants from some of the most botanically rich regions of the world. This type of climate occurs in the Mediterranean (of course), parts of South Africa, Southern Australia and most of California. Temperature variations are much less pronounced in these climates than in the cool temperate and continental climates. The summers may be hot but it rarely truly freezes in the winter, so no need for long-johns here! Winter days, at least in my area, rarely drop below 12-15C even though night temps may drop down close to 0C. The differential between day and night temperatures in both winter and summer can actually be relatively large, 10-15C differentials not being uncommon with occasional larger gaps. Rainfall is relatively modest (620mm per year at my home) with a uneven distribution over the year, heavier and winter/early spring and very little in summer/early autumn.

The climate of my adopted home could not be farther from the northern temperate zone in which I grew up. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA or 'Philly' has summers that are hot and steamy, more like the tropics but maybe a bit warmer. Summer nights, while slightly cooler than the days are still hot and steamy. Winters are cold with frozen ground and snow. The only way I could grow most of the Mediterranean-type plants was to put them outside in summer and in the basement, heated frames or greenhouse during the winter. For the majority of these plants this was a totally unsuitable arrangement. Being predominantly winter-growing plants, the hot, wet summers rotted most of them off when they were trying to rest. winter wasn't much better, either being cooped up in a dark, dank nearly sunless spot or in an enclosed, humid environment with not much more light than the basement in temperatures more like the tropics. where were the cool, damp winters and hot dry summers?

One plant genus we did successfully grow in Philadelphia was Pelargonium. The common species cultivated were mostly species in the section Ciconium, the normal Garden and Ivy-leaved Geraniums and the section Pelargonium, the Scented Geraniums and Regal Pelargoniums (in the USA they call Regal Pelargoniums, Martha Washington Geraniums). These are just two small sections in a huge genus of plants that contains hundreds of species ranging from those a few centimetres tall to large imposing shrubs to 2m tall. Some are geophytes, producing large underground tubers, others thich woody or succulent stems. While most produce 'normal' leaves, others have leaves so finely divided that all that is left of the leaf surface are the veins while others have lost their leaves altogether.

Plant fragrance is a notable characteristic in Pelargonium. The leaves of many have strong fragrances reminiscent of Apples, Oranges, Limes, Lemons, Coconuts, Mints, Roses, Anise, Celery, Camphor or Balm. Some combine the above scents, like lemon-rose, Camphor-rose and mint-rose. While many are pleasantly fragrant, several smell like insecticide or burning hair or plastic. The flowers, while generally not fragrant, occasionally surprise the flower by emitting powerful fragrances. One species in particular, Pelargonium gibbosum, the Gouty Pelargonium (so named because of the lumpy 'swollen joints' of the stem) has the most remarkable fragrance of them all. The flowers lack the showy colours of many of its relatives, being mainly green, sometimes with indistinct brown or reddish dots at the base of the petals. The drabness of the flowers is made up for just before dusk during the flowering season (late spring through autumn). You may not even realise the plant is in flower until you get home late from work one night and smell bananas. That's right, bananas! Remember those banana marshmallow candies in the 1960's and 70's? Dense marshmallow, artificially flavoured banana and molded into the shape of little bananas about 3 inches long. the flowers of Gouty Pelargonium have the exact frangrance of these retro-candies and extremely strong to boot! The flowers of this fascinating plants are pictured below.

By far what attracts most people to these beautiful plants are the colours of the flowers. the range is truly amazing. While mauves, pinks and whites are the predominant colours, greens, yellows, browns, oranges, reds and vivid purples are also in the colour palate. The only colour that does not exist in Pelargonium is a true blue. You need to go to the related genera Erodium and Geranium for true blue. Interestingly, most Pelargoniums have flowers that combine a range of colours in the same flower. It is not unusual to get red, yellow and white in one flower, or white pink and red, or oange and pink, or green and red, the list goes on.

One of the most interesting things about Pelargoniums and the Geraniaceae in general, is the way that they are pollinated. A few are bird pollinated, like Pelargonium fulgidum. but this is rare and pretty much limited to the red-flowered species. A hybrid of P. fulgidum (P. Scarlet Unique) exhibits the qualities of a bird-pollinated Pelargonium. The brilliant red flower with a wide open gap in the the middle of the flower. This bright green gap screams out to the bird 'put your beak here!'. A few of the species are moth pollinated, having white or green flowers and emitting their fragrance at night (P. Gobbosum). Most of the Geranium family are, however, pollinated by bees or flower wasps. The bee/wasp pollinated species for the most part are not fragrant but do provide a nectar reward to the insect. Nothing spectacular there you say? Well, Pelargoniums, Geraniums, Sarcocaulon and Erodium leave nothing to chance when ensuring that the insects know exactly where the nectar reward is and how to enter the flower to get it.

The highly successful Geraniaceae, employ what are called nectar guides. You can clearly see them in most of the pictures below. These nectar quides appear as solid or spotted lines generally on the upper petals of Pelargonium but commonly on all the petals in the genera with regular flowers, Geranium, Sarcocaulon and Erodium. By the way, one of the ways to distinguish Pelargonium ffrom these other genera is by the construction of the flowers - they are zygomorphic. Zygomorphic simply means that the flowers can only be cut in half one way to get two even halves. In Pelargonium this is usually vertically through the centre of the flower. There are five petals in the flower, two produced north of the flowers equator, three below. While the nectar guides are clearly visible to the human eye what must they look like to a colour-blind bee? Thankfully, this has been studied and here are some wonderful infra-red pictures of Geraniaceae on the 'net. These pictures clearly show how stunningly distinct these nectar guides are to a bee!

The orchid flowers around the house are a bit sparse on the ground at the moment so I thought I would turn to the Pelargoniums for a bit of camera fun. Instead of taking pictures of full plants, it was more fun for me to take close-ups of the flowers. The colours are wonderul and provide a real challenge to the photographer to capture them accurately. What is not immediately evident is that even in the plants that do not appear to have nectar guides, like Pelargonium 'The Boar', have veins a different colur to the base colour of the flower which under infrared light stand out as strongly as the nectar guides that are obvious to our eyes.

The majority of Pelargonium species come from Africa, with the greatest concentration in southern Africa. A couple occur in the Mediterranean and a dozen or so are from Australia. Africa and Australia share many Families, Genera and species of plants. From a biogeography point of view this is fascinating and maybe should be the subject of a post? Below is just a small selection of Pelargoniums that are flowering in my garden. These photos were taken on the 11th of January (our mid-summer).

Pelargonium tetragonum

Pelargonium viscossissimum

Pelargonium 'The Boar'

Pelargonium 'Splendide'

Pelargonium 'Scarlet Unique'

Pelargonium rodneyanum (Australian Native)

Pelargonium quercifolium 'Royal Oak'

Pelargonium 'Prince of Orange'

Pelargonium havlasae (Australian Native)

Pelargonium gibbosum (Gouty Pelargonium)

Pelargonium 'Distinction'

Pelargonium australe (Australian Native)

Photography Lessons!

A scientist living in an 'Artists Community' has its benefits and its drawbacks. On the one hand most of the artists are of the opinion that science is the antithesis of art. Their opinion of scientists, needless to say, is not the most favourable. You can almost imagine the conversation 'We are not concerned about what the names of the plants are or how they work or even if they are rare or endangered, we are concerned with colour, interesting shapes, composition of our works and creating 'artistic' renditions of what we see. Needless to say, this is not an imaginary conversation. It has been heard many times in twenty years. On the other hand the artists have no expectation that the scientists who live in the neighbourhood would have any interest in 'Art'. This lack of expectation from the artists is good. It means that we can do what we want without them ever having to take us seriously.

Twenty years is a long time to live in a neighbourhood and not be visited by one group of people. The scientists, the people who appreciate nature for natures sake and the non-artists are regular visitors to the house. We call each other and talk about things we have seen in the forest or the latest bird to visit. The gardeners come to see the weird plants in flower and to get cuttings. I lost track years ago how many kilos of coffee have been put through the espresso machine for my friendly neighbours who drop in. Not one cup of coffee has passed the lips of an artist in this house. Not because they are not welcome but because they feel there is no need to visit someone who is not 'cool' or in the 'in crowd'. This is an interesting viewpoint that they have. These supposed free-thinking and bohemian artists might get a little bit of enlightenment if they realised what was past the threshold to my house or even in the garden!

The house that I live in is a former artists gallery. Famous Australian artists exhibited their work here twenty years ago. There are some odd spaces in the house that are not really usable; too wide to be a hallway, too narrow to be a room. Even the living room is four times as long as it is wide.The lighting was originally gallery lighting, all halogen spot lights on swivels (now for the most part replaced. The shelves at the far end of the living room are lit. Bookshelves with lights? No, they were for displaying small objet d'art. The walls and shelves are still covered in art but art that I like, not art that the artists up here will ever get a chance to see.

Interestingly, I have always had an interest in art. In 4th grade I was designing and drawing cartoons for a anti-littering campaign. This led on to cartoons figures that were not associated with moral rectitude. When my interest in plants developed so did my interest in botanical art. This led to classes in Bot Art using water colours, pen and ink, pencil and charcoal and even wood block printing. I had the technical skill but not the eye for composition. My shading was beautiful and perspective wonderful but they all looked exactly like they did when they were lying shriveling and dying on the drawing table.

I tried photography. My first camera was an Olympus OM1. A fantastic camera with an incompetant photographer. Very occasionally the stars would come together and a stunner would stare back at me from the freshly printed photograph I actually took. Unfortunately, a strike rate of 1 in 500 - 1000 is not all that good. I persisted but didn't improve. Have you heard the story about men? They will play with a gadget but never read the manual? That was me. To be fair, I did read the manual but it was beyond me. I know, why admit incompetance when you can blame the equiptment.

Things changed when there was a reason to take pictures. Being the slightly pedantic (read as scientific) person that I am, there was a need to keep photographic records of what I was recording in writing. The pictures were better but still looked as though they were taken for a plant catalogue. That was until Dr. Sue came along. Sue is actually a university lecturer in biomedical sciences but she should have been a professional photographer. Actually, she doesn't want to be a professional photographer, hers is purely a pursuit of pleasure through the use of photography. Thankfully, we are good friends so when she said my photos were, well, S__t, I didn't take it bad at all. She wasn't that harsh but you would be well aware what it is like to be told something you think is wonderful is not. It hurts even worse when it comes from someone you respect.

Solution to this sorry and depressing situation? Chuck the camera in the river and never take another photograph? Sounded a good idea but the cost of the camera stopped me from doing that. Sell the camera? No, it might still be useful and it was certainly a better quality camera than the one used for 'happy snaps'. The only solution was to give up the male ego thing and get lessons. And yes, lessons from a women. Thankfully, that woman was Sue. She has been training me for about 6 months now. It takes me awhile and sometimes I slip back but my 'teacher' can't get away from me. Her office is next to mine and we have an agreement that I provide the plants for her pictures.

Until now most of my photos have been of orchids or the odd critter in the garden. That was until friday. There was an oxalis sitting on my desk from a picture taking session for a previous blog. I was a little late getting home from work and the sun was low in the sky, shining through the office window. In the few days that the Oxalis had been sitting on the desk it had turned its leaves to the window. Now the sun was shining through the tops of the leaves and all I could see was the bottom side of the leaves. The tops of the leaves were interesting but the bottoms were absolutely fascinating. It jumped out at me as the most startling colour combination. I wasn't hungry for dinner so I took a picture. Then a few more. Twenty-seven photos later there were several that were passable. Download, Crop adjust white balance and hey presto! The picture below.

Oxalis triangularis

The next day after watering the greenhouse I noticed that the seed heads had burst on a pelargonium species just inside the door. What struck me was the near perfect symmetry of the corkscrew like awns with the furry little pointed seeds all poking out. I carefully lifted it into a spot out of the wind with a dark background and after only 6 pics and a little cropping came up with this.

Pelargonium hirtum

The end of the story? My teacher liked the photos and even used the word gorgeous. It helped that purples are her favourite colours. She also likes hairy things. Maybe that is why she has me as a friend.

Restrepia elegans

You know you have an obsession when you need to have something around you all of the time. My home is a bit of a botanical ark. The garden beds are filled with collections of various genera of plants the most prominent of which is the genus Pelargonium. The greenhouses and shadehouses protect my collection of Cymbidiums. Even my home office, kitchen and dining room have the odd potted plant on the window sills.

Most of the plants that make it to the house are reminders of family or friends. These permanent house guests occasionally have to share space with a flowering Cymbidium that fleetingly comes for a visit and like all good house guests leaves after a few days. There are not all that many permanent members of the indoor flora but each has a special meaning.

In the corner of the dining room there is one of those old-time brass hanging baskets strung up by long brass chains. The 'basket' contains a 15cm black plastic pot with Zebrina pendula, the beautiful wine red, silver and green Wandering Jew as it was known then I was growing up. This reminds me of my mother. She had jars filled with cuttings of Zebrina that lined a narrow shelf that ran the length of the double ceramic sink that itself ran the length of the windows.

Above my sink is a pot of Oxalis triangularis, the two-toned purple leaved form. My favourite Aunt, Aunt Doris, grew a plant of this in an antique ceramic pot on a small table covered in a doily at the top of the stairs to the upstairs bedrooms. Even in the darkest days of winter it provided a stark contrast to the bleak trees and snow on the other side of the glass. Here was this apparently delicate little plant with bright perky leaves of the most intense colour topped with the most delicate pink flowers on long stalks. I always wondered how it survived. Now that mine has been alive in the same place for at least the past 19 years with only being repotted twice in that time I am starting to understand.

Oxalis triangularis

On my home office desk there is a dwarf Japanese cultivar of Raphis excelsa, the Lady Palm. It is growing in a specially designed and handcrafted pot made by a friend. Some reminders remain private.

My work office desk and windows were a bit bare. The walls have a couple of drawings of some of my special plants. I really wanted something living. The office air is very dry and most plants last a couple of days before showing stress. My approach was a bit lateral. When I was a young man terrariums were all the rage. There were hundreds of designs including plain old jars to aquariums to specially designed enormous glass vessels with narrow necks and large bulbous bases. They even sold special terrarium tools to plant these long-necked bottles. Of course I had a set.

One day we were cleaning up the marine lab making space for one of the new students. We opened one of the locked cabinets and inside was the most amazing arrays of aquariums, all with matching glass lids. I am a sucker for a well built anything! These aquariums were obviously lovingly made. One particular size took my fancy, they were about 30cm long, 20cm high and about 15cm deep. Four end-to-end would fit comfortably on each of my office window sills. I have three windows in my office! The temperatures in my office do not fall below 15C at night and do not go above 25C during the day, every day of the year! Permanent tropics.

The aquariums on the south-facing window I filled with various species of Jewel Orchids; Anoectochilus, Ludisia, Goodyera, Macodes. They look great all snuggled up in live sphagnum moss with their lids on. Once a year I have to push the glass across to leave a small gap for the flower spikes to poke through. After they flower the spikes are cut off and the lids put back into place. Life is peaceful again.

On the windowsills that face east I have a collection of little Masdevallias, Restrepia and a few of the other miniature South American Pleurithallids. In the past few weeks one particular little sweetie has been blooming its head off. This is the extremely delicate and very refined little orchid, Restrepia elegans. The whole plant is all of maybe 6-7 cm tall. The flower is huge for the size of the plant being almost 2 cm long along the axis of the fused lateral sepals. The dorsal sepal and petals are just about as long but quickly taper into long narrow threads each topped with a little knob that emits pheromones to attract the pollinator. It literally smells like female wasps at least to a male wasp. The males must be pretty blind (aren't most males when they are pursuing a sexual reward?).

This plant provided me with another lesson from my photography teacher. How to take a picture of such a tiny plant and flower and to get it looking good. I think the second shot is much better. It is hard to get good depth of field when you are working with such tiny subjects. These little fellas will go on flowering for months so there will be plenty of opportunity to keep trying to get a good shot. In the meantime, when the boredom of some tasks at work start to get to me or some person is being, well, you know, difficult, I can always look to the windowsill and see something of beauty that asks nothing of me but provides me with so much.

Restrepia elegans

Restrepia elegans

God Only Knows and Progeny

One of the my students at school is working on the taxonomy of native Tobacco (Nicotiana sp) in South-Eastern Australia. In 1910 it was generally assumed there where two species; a white flowered one that was widespread and abundant and a small greenish/yellow flowered species that was restricted to the drier inland areas. By the 1950's the white flowered species was split into 3; a hairy inland form, a hairy coastal form and a widespread hairless form. Not being content to leave it at this, a few people in the 1980's decided that there was another 'species' lurking around. Why did they think this? It did not behave itself and conform to the 4 described species. Plants are supposed to behave the way humans want them to!

Along comes our student, looking for a project to carry out. At the same time a student at another university was also looking for a project to do. As happens occasionally, both of them decided to work on the same group of plants. You could almost see the daggers being drawn as they planned how to get rid of each other and claim the project all for themselves. Thankfully, another solution soon became apparent. They worked together. One took the genetic side of the project and the other the morphological and ecological side. A pretty good split both were happy with.

Although the results are only preliminary they are fascinating none-the-less! Genetically, the plants are all more or less identical. All the bands on the gels light up in all the same places. Several different methods have been used and all show the same thing. Morphologically and ecologically, there are 5 distinct entities. Each has its own hair type and degree of hairiness. Each grows on a different geology and soil type. Statistical analysis of all of the morphological and ecological traits clearly shows there are 5 distinct entities with a greater than 95 percent accuracy. How could this be? What is going on here?

All life has genes. Genes are what control, amongst other things, what an organism looks like and how it behaves. But is it simply genes that dictate these things? Genetically, humans (Homo sapiens) are more or less identical and belong to the same species. Domestic dogs (Canis lupus familiaris) are all dogs, and cats (Felis domesticus) are all cats. There is another little thing called gene expression. The environment and a range of other factors can get a gene to either turn on or turn off. As these genes turn on it could dictate hairy or not hairy, or drought tolerant or not drought tolerant. Could this be going on with the Tobacco species in Australia?

I love to talk about inheritance in Cymbidiums. One of my local friends and I spend hours every other week or so pouring over plants looking at how various parents are expressed in the progeny. Between the two of us we grow a shipload of seedlings . As you probably guessed from previous posts there can be a great deal of variation in seedlings of the same cross. Some parents have strong influence, others are barely detectable in the offspring. What causes this variation? They all have the same parents and they all came from the same seed capsule? In the case of Cymbidium hybrids it may simply the various genes combining in different ways but could gene expression play a role as well?

As you will be familiar, I belong to a forum on the internet that deals only with plants in the genus Cymbidium. By internet standards this forum does not contain a large group of people but they are all as nutty as I am about Cymbidiums. We talk about lots of things, generally related to Cymbidium although every now and again we stray off the main topic! Occasionally there is a discussion on the Cymbidium forum that is enlightening and sparks the interest of a wide range of forum members. My last post, on Cymbidium God Only Knows, was in response to a discussion on the forum. The link in that post took you to a couple of pictures of C. God Only Knows 'Geyserland' taken by one of the forum members names Ha Bui. I have never met Ha Bui but from discussion on the net I like him and we have a friendship of sorts. More like pen pals. I am sure we would get along well if we were ever to meet.

My habit of posting 'progeny' blogs has sparked a bit of interest and people are encouraging me to carry on with it. To further this cause, Ha Bui thought it would be great if I posted a blog on Cymbidium God Only Knows (GOK for short) and its progeny. He would supply the photos and I would assemble it and put some words to it. I am not sure where he lives but he is obviously sound asleep while I am at work. After a little to and fro, the pictures all arrived safe and well. Unfortunately they arrived just as I was heading to work this morning. So here I am at 10:30 at night finishing off a joint project between Ha Bui and me. I hope you like it!

Thanks for the photos Ha. I hope you enjoy what has been done with them.

Cymbidium God Only Knows 2N

(photo by Chuckie)

Cymbidium God Only Knows 'Geyserland'

(photo by Ha Bui)

Cymbidium God Only Knows 'Geyserland'

(photo by Ha Bui)

Cymbidium God Only Knows 'Geyserland' X C. Yowie Flame

(photo by Ha Bui)

Cymbidium God Only Knows 'Geyserland' X C. Paul Robeson

(photo by Ha Bui)

Cymbidium God Only Knows 'Geyserland' X C. Paul Robeson

(photo by Ha Bui)

Cymbidium God Only Knows 'Geyserland' X C. Paul Robeson

(photo by Ha Bui)

Cymbidium God Only Knows 'Geyserland' X C. Paul Robeson

(photo by Ha Bui)

Cymbidium Paul Robeson (Left)

Cymbidium God Only Knows 'Geyserland' X C. Paul Robeson (Right)

(photo by Ha Bui)

Cymbidium God Only Knows 'Geyserland' X C. Hazel Fay
(photo by Ha Bui)

Cymbidium God Only Knows 'Geyserland' X C. Mizuha Okoda

(photo by Paula)

Cymbidium God Only Knows

Cymbidium God Only Knows 2N
(hookerianum used as the pod parent)

Friends on the web have been talking about this pretty little primary Cymbidium hybrid that goes under the name God Only Knows. Maybe one of them can inform me how it got this highly unusual name. It is an interesting hybrid because it is made between two quite distantly related plants within the genus. The one parent is Cymbidium floribundum (formerly known as C. pumilum) which is a small plant, rarely over 20 cm tall with flowers about 2 cm or slightly more across. The other parent is Cymbidium hookerianum (formerly known as C. grandiflorum) which, by contrast, is a large plant, upwards of 1 m tall with flowers 10 cm or more across. It is not unusual for crosses of such disparate species to not produce offspring and when they do, the young 'uns can be sterile or close to it.

Something went terribly right with this cross which is proving to be a very good parent in its own right. First of all, The taxonomists may have it all wrong, the plants may be more closely related than originally thought. The other thing is that breeders have figured out that if you double the chromosome count of the parents or the offspring, fertility can be restored.

When breeding plants so disparate in size, it is normal practice to use the larger plant/flower as the male (pollen parent) and the smaller as the female (pod parent). It is more probable that the pollen tubes from the larger will reach the ovaries of the smaller. Pollen tubes in most cases have a limited ability to increase in length. If pollen from the smaller flower was used on the larger flower it is highly likely that the pollen tubes will not elongate sufficiently to reach the ovaries. Just to contradict myself sometimes mating smaller flowers on to larger flowers does work!

Most of the Cymbidium God Only Knows appear to have been made with C. floribundum (pumilum) as the pod parent. This is evidenced by the general appearance of the offspring that more closely resemble the size and appearance of C. floribundum. Several years ago a friend of mine did the cross in the reverse order, using C. hookerianum (grandiflorum) as the pollen parent. Interestingly, while you can still clearly see C. floribundum in the offspring, the C. hookerianum parent is more strongly expressed. Just to confuse things even more, he used a green form of C. floribundum so as not to get a brownish flower. Compare this form of God Only Knows with my form. You will need to go to message 7 and open the jpg's.

Now the comparison between my plant and the breeders plant is not all that fair. My form has the normal ploidy level or 2N. The form pictured on the Cymbidium Forum has double the number of chromosomes or 4N. Most would find the breeders plant more attractive. Well, maybe not me as I tend to like the more spidery flowers. There has been no reports about the fragrance of the one pictured on the forum but mine has a beautiful fragrance. As you can see from the picture above, mine has spots instead of solid patches of colour and is much greener. Pretty isn't it?

The best part of this cross, in any of its forms, is that it is particularly cold tolerant, it will happily grow and flower profusely in a 15 cm pot and the flowers will last a good month in the middle of winter! It overcomes some of the shortcoming of both parents and emphasizes the strengths. Cymbidium floribundum flowers are short-lived and so-so in colour in most of its forms. It is however a superb grower, forms a specimen plant in no time at all and will flower regularly even after repotting or division the previous season. Cymbidium hookerianum on the other hand has the most stupendous large green fragrant flowers that last for months. Unfortunately, it is a large plant, hard to flower and tends to drop its flower buds if conditions are not just right.

Cymbidium God Only Knows is a very reliable and tough little hybrid that should be more popular. It forms specimen plants easily, flowers profusely and is fragrant and attractive. Even the leaves are a pleasant sight on a well grown plant. In the words of E.A. Bowles this plant 'Pays its rent'. Well, he was actually refering to Cyclamen hederifolium but it could equally apply to this plant.

There is a little post script to add to this blog. My friend Cliff from Gympie informed me of the source of the name God Only Knows! He said in a post 'This plant got it's name when Andy was given a flask of it in New Zealand by a hobbist grower who made the cross with the comment "God Only Knows what will come out of it!"'. Seems pretty appropriate considering the parents!

Apparently there is a post script to the post script! The original cross was made by Grant Bayley and a flask of it was traded with Andy Easton for some Cymbidium plants. The plant was later registered by Norbert Gomes mistaking Geyserland as the originator of the cross. Apparently, Norbert Gomes named the plant after the Beach Boys song "God Only Knows" and not because he was unsure of the parentage. It is amazing how fast the story can be corrected when you put things on the net, and sometime by the people actually involved. Thanks Andy!