AboutOrchids

Orchid conservation takes many forms. In the Western Ghats, tropical mountain forests hold almost a third of India’s flora and fauna species. That includes hundreds of native orchid varieties, like Dendrobiums, Bulbophyllums, Habenarias, and Aerides. As deforestation threatens these species, Indian conservationists have enlisted local students to rescue orchids. Within the region’s tea, coffee, and cardamom estates, they find orchids which have fallen out of trees due to winds or heavy rainstorms. They pick up the orchids, identify them, replant them on trees, and have a 90% success rate after 16 months. In the process, the students not only save plants, but also learn about the biodiversity living around them. Education has led the local community to become conservation champions.

Maybe you have a grasp on the complex world of orchid names, from reading nametags to understanding awards, plus all that Latin. Well, if you think you’re done, I’m sorry. You still have to deal with orchid name changes. Why do names change? Sorting out family ties between 30,000 orchid species is no easy task, and new discoveries constantly affect our interpretations. The onset of DNA analysis in the last few decades has revealed new relationships, and disproved others. It can be annoying, but it’s the inevitable result of continuing scientific research. Name changes are part of our growing understanding of orchids.

Here are three examples of name changes:

Shown in the first photo above, Japan’s beloved Samurai Orchid, Neofinetia falcata, has been renamed Vanda falcata. It’s long been known that Neofinetias and Vandas are closely related, because they can hybridize with each other. However, as scientists investigated further, they discovered that Neofinetias are, in fact, Vandas. Since it takes years, or even decades, for these updates to become widely known, it’s no surprise that many orchid lovers still say Neofinetia.

Draculas used to be called Masdevallias, until botanists realized that they were distinct enough to merit their own genus. Draculas were separated from Masdevallias in 1978. If you look at an old orchid book, you may find Dracula gorgona, in the second photo above, labelled as Masdevallia gorgona. An old orchid name is called a synonym of its new name.

The big, beautiful Cattleya in the third photo is a complex hybrid. One of its parent species was renamed from Brassavola digbyana to Rhyncholaelia digbyana. That affects its hybrid name. It went from being a BLC (Brassolaeliocattleya) to an RLC (Rhyncholaeliocattleya.) The “Brasso-” beginning of that long word became “Rhyncho-“. Since that same species is in the parentage of many Cattleya hybrids, this one renaming created a cascade, altering thousands of names.

Is your head spinning from this yet? Name changes are such a big, messy topic that there’s plenty more to discuss. Go back to enjoying your flowers, and check for additional info in a future post.

Chalk this one up to the fact that some orchid lovers behave poorly. The Miami Herald reports on orchid thefts in Coral Gables. Somebody stole $4,000 worth of orchids that residents had attached to trees. Several years ago, a few people started planting Moth Orchids and Dendrobiums to beautify their neighborhood. They were stolen in early June, so locals invested thousands of dollars to replace them. This time, they hung them higher in the trees to discourage theft. The culprit returned and stole them again, anyway. Fortunately, the crook was arrested after being caught on surveillance video. It doesn’t involve the high drama and endangered species of the bestselling book The Orchid Thief, or subsequent movie Adaptation, but it’s another reminder that not all orchid lovers are well behaved.

Taiwan is trying to save its native Moth Orchids. The tropical island nation has two Moth Orchid species, Phalaenopsis aphrodite, with white flowers, and Phalaenopsis equestris, with pink or red flowers. Taiwan also has one of the biggest orchid industries in the world. The mass-grown hybrids which begin life in Taiwanese greenhouses are sold around the globe. Unfortunately, indigenous species in the wild have been “mercilessly picked” and over-collected, and they’re close to extinction. “Bringing Moth Orchids Back Home” is a conservation program launched by the Dr. Cecilia Koo Botanic Conservation Center. Scientists there are hoping to use their plant expertise to rescue the endangered species. Their goal is to grow enough of them to replenish wild populations, and also meet commercial demands.

Summer brings plenty of blooms, including these four orchids which live outside in our back garden. In the first row of photos, there’s a mini Sarcochilus hybrid with deep red flowers. Hybrids like these have been popular in Australia for years, and lately I’ve been seeing more of them available in the USA. It’s less vigorous than Sarcochilus hartmannii, which is in its ancestry. I suspect it’s not as fond of our windy, coastal climate as that species.

The second row of photos shows an elegant, fragrant Coelogyne species. Coelogyne mooreana blooms like crazy for me every year. It’s already been flowering for two months, and more fresh buds continue to open. Native to the mountains of Vietnam, it has a light, pleasant scent.

If jaguars had purple spots, they’d be a perfect match for Masdevallia chaparensis in the third row. This species is indigenous to a single valley in Bolivia. This plant was happier when we lived in a warmer area of San Francisco, but it still reliably flowers every year in Pacifica.

The last three pictures show the yellow form of a mini Masdevallia species, Masdevallia polysticta. It’s not the showiest pleurothallid, but its little flowers have charm. Native to the Andes in Ecuador and Peru, it enjoys cool temps and foggy weather like the other orchids in this post.

Orchids sell by the billions, and 99% of known sales are legal. They’re usually human-made hybrids, not wild plants. But there’s also a vast illegal trade in wild orchids. The buyers include unscrupulous orchid collectors whose demand can cause extinctions. Newly discovered species can be quickly stripped from the wild. Scientists often find new varieties by spotting them in local markets, already for sale before being identified. It’s likely that many species go extinct before they’re named. Even worse, it’s not just a problem for ornamental orchids. Some types are collected to be eaten, while others are used in traditional medicines. Around the globe, traders and traffickers are beating scientists and conservationists, and orchids are disappearing. Experts are raising the alarm, and taking steps like hiding locations of new discoveries. Orchid lovers can help by supporting conservation groups, like the American Orchid Society, Orchid Conservation Alliance, and other charities. Also, never take orchids from the wild, nor buy from those who harvest wild plants. Ask if you’re not sure, and help win the orchid battle.

Thunia flowers may resemble Cattleyas, but they are very different orchids. Thunias grow tall canes that look like cornstalks, and their 5 inch (12.7 cm) blooms hang in clusters from the tops. They may be the fastest growing orchids. New canes can reach up to 4 feet (1.2 m) tall in only a few months.

These terrestrials are native to the slopes of the Himalayas. Their flowers hang down, don’t open widely, and only last a few weeks, but still put on an impressive show. In winter, Thunias drop their leaves and go dormant. In spring, new canes emerge from the bases of old ones. The year-old canes stay green, but don’t grow or bloom. They provide energy for the fresh growth, and should be kept until the following year, when they dry up completely.

The middle photo in the last row shows a short, young Thunia resembling a cornstalk or bamboo. In order to bloom, new Thunia growth needs full sun in the spring. Too much water can rot the small leaves, so keep humidity high, but water very lightly. When they reach 6 inches (15 cm) tall, plants should moved into shade, watered regularly, and fertilized. As leaves yellow and drop in autumn, reduce water and fertilizer to a minimum. I keep mine cool and dry in winter, watering as seldom as once a month to keep the stalks from shriveling. These pictures feature the Thunia alba plant which I’ve had for many years, except for the final photo, which shows a hybrid relative, Thunia Gattonensis, at an orchid show. If you can manage their large size and care demands, these tall orchids are well worth it.

Orchids come and go. Scientists frequently find new orchids, and also raise warnings about orchid extinctions. Recent finds include two new Aerides from the Philippines, and a natural Laelia hybrid from Oaxaca, Mexico (article in Spanish.)

In the Philippines, Aerides turma and Aerides turma forma anniversarius are two more orchid species to add to that country’s “luxuriant mega-biodiversity.” One of their discoverers, Dr. Miguel De Leon from the Cootes Orchid Research Group, describes them as “the living jewels of the Archipelago.”

In southern Mexico, Laelia × tlaxiacoensis has been scientifically described as a natural hybrid between Laelia albida and Laelia furfuracea. Although most orchid hybrids are human creations, there are naturally occurring ones, too. Studies of this orchid include examining its trade in markets of the city of Tlaxiaco, and its medicinal uses in local communities.

Bangladesh has been losing orchids. Habitat destruction and the illegal plant trade have resulted in the disappearance of 32 orchid varieties. Some haven’t been seen in the tropical country for over a century. Researchers point out that Bangladesh’s problems mirror what’s happening around the world. They’re now assessing the nation’s 155 remaining orchid species to help prevent any more biodiversity loss.

In Defense of Plants exposes The Deceptive Ways of the Calypso Orchid. This dainty, charming species grows in northern forests of North America, Europe, and Asia, where it’s pollinated by bumblebees. The bees are attracted by the orchid’s sweet fragrance, yellow hairs on the flower lip which mimic pollen, and nectar spurs. But the yellow hairs have no pollen, and the nectar spurs are empty. Disappointed, the bees quickly learn not to waste time at these blooms. That means Calypsos need naive bees which haven’t been tricked before. And, these insects must be slow learners to get fooled twice: once to pick up pollen, and again to deposit it on another flower. With the Calypso Orchid’s deceptions, it’s a complicated relationship.

The photos above show Calypso Orchids growing wild in the mountains of southwest Colorado.

Here on the Northern California coast, summers are often cool and foggy. Right on schedule for today’s summer solstice, we were greeted this morning by a heavy fog bank. It’s the perfect weather for Dave’s and my favorite orchids, Masdevallias, which live in high mountain cloud forests. These tropical, triangular beauties feature stunningly brilliant colors. The first photo in this post comes from my garden; the rest are from orchid shows. Have a happy, healthy, and peaceful solstice.