Orchids are a plant that I only have a passing interest in.
They are exotic and spectacular when in bloom, somewhat dull when not, and can
be fussy to coax back into bloom. They need light - but not too much, water,
not too much nor too little, a moderate climate – not too hot or too cold, and
the right growing medium water-retentive yet quick-draining. Admittedly, those
requirements are not too much to ask for the reward they offer when in bloom,
but I just don’t have time for all of those details. Who has time for fussy
plants? Not me. At least not until I retire, but I may have been bitten by the
orchid bug!
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Spiked crested coralroot |
Last July, on one of our many trips into the surrounding
Pineywoods led by botanist, and SFA alum, Peter Loos, I encountered my first
native, terrestrial orchid. Peter is hard to keep up with sometimes, as he
knows more botany and botanical names than many people combined, and has an
internal map in his brain that rivals any compass or GPS device ever made. On
this particular trip to the Davy Crocket National Forest, we were accompanied
by botanist Joe Liggio who coauthored, with his wife Ann, and photographed for
“Wild Orchids of Texas,” so I knew we were looking for something special: the
spiked crested coralroot orchid, Hexalectris
spicata. Talk about a gateway drug! Finding something like this in the wild
will take you to your knees and take your breath away in the same instant.
Since that first encounter, Peter has introduced me to at
least nine more of our native orchids. Some are unassuming, some are curious,
and some are overwhelmingly magnificent. But if tropical orchids are fussy, our
native orchids are near impossible. As a whole, most require specialized
pollinators or extremely specific habitats in order to survive and reproduce –
oftentimes growing in conditions that are impossible to replicate in the
nursery or garden setting. For example, spiked crested coralroot are
achlorophyllous and mycoheterotrophic. That means they don’t have chlorophyll
in order to photosynthesis energy, and instead obtain nutrients from
mycorrhizal fungi present in specific soil conditions. There is really no way
to replicate these conditions outside of their natural habitat. Additionally,
they are highly prized by collectors and are often victim to poaching. For all
of these reasons, native orchids are a group of plant that I will never, ever
collect from the wild – even if I have the great fortune of finding them on my
own property.
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Rose pogonia |
I’ve encountered several orchids in hillside seeps where pitcher
plant are often found. Orchids here are in danger due to habitat loss, largely
from development of forest land or fire suppression that allows overgrowth of
taller woody vegetation that crowds out the herbaceous layer. Growing conditions
consist of very acidic, nutrient poor, fine sands with an underlay of
impervious clay that allows groundwater to seep to the surface. Even in summer
when the surface soil looks dry, the subsurface is often still moist. The plant
diversity here is astounding, yet rare due to the infrequent occurrences of
these specific growing conditions. In mid-May, I caught the last blooms of the
rose pogonia, Pogonia opiohlossoide,
with its soft pink flowers that were hard to see until your eye is trained. At
the end of May, I was fortunate to experience the tuberous grass pink, Calopogon tuberosus var. tuberosus, is
the first to bloom in late May and early June. Three to 10 bright pink flowers
can occur on each stalk, opening from bottom to top. As we turn to the heat of
August, the orange fringed bog orchid, Platanthera
ciliaris, shows it’s brilliant, frilly orange flowers and often grows in or
near sphagnum moss. The snowy orchid, Platanthera
nivea, is also recorded in bogs, but my first encounter was in a coastal
prairie in Harris County. These showy white orchids, almost resembling white Roman
hyacinths, were sprinkled all throughout this wonderfully preserved space.
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Tuberous grass pink |
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Orange fringed bog orchid |
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Snowy orchid |
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Cranefly orchid |
Some native orchids, especially in the shade of our
pineywoods, are easy to miss. The large whorled pogonia, Isotria verticillata, is actually a tiny thing best appreciated on
hands and knees. Three long brown sepals surrounding the flower give this
orchid its exotic appearance, but are easily camouflaged with surrounding leaf
litter. They bloom near the end of March. The foliage of the cranefly orchid, Tipularia discolor, is spectacularly
easy to find in spring with its large crinkly leaves, often with dark purple
spots. If ever in question, simply turn the leaf over and the solid purple
underside will serve as confirmation. However, the foliage goes dormant before
tiny purple-green flower spikes appear in late summer. They are not showy and
easily blend in with the surrounding forest. The hardest to find, in my
opinion, is the southern twayblade, Neottia
bifolia. On a good day, plants in bloom might reach a hand’s height, but the
two tiny leaves that occur near or at ground level are nigh bigger than a
quarter. Although they can produce up to 25 flowers per plant, I’d be generous
if I called the purplish-brown flowers and stem “tiny.”
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Whorled pogonia |
Finally, there are plants that are simply more fantastic in
person than you could realize. That moment you find what you are looking for,
and it seems as if the clouds part and heavenly sunbeams stream down highlighting
your flower. You can nearly hear the imaginary choir singing a note of joy and
wonder. That moment happened for me earlier this year at my first encounter
with a Kentucky lady’s slipper orchid, Cypripedium
kentuckiense. These flowers are large and rather conspicuous with a large,
yellow bowl-shaped labelleum (modified petal in orchids), set off in contrast
by large, reddish sepals and petals. They prefer rich, moist, open woodlands
and are listed as globally vulnerable due to limited range and loss of habitat.
You can actually find Kentucky lady’s slippers for sale, but please make sure
they are sourced from tissue culture or from a garden specimen rather than wild
collected.
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Kentucky lady's slippers |
I’ve often heard that the devil is in the details, meaning
things should be done thoroughly and thoughtfully, and that’s precisely the way
these beauties were designed. There are reportedly 54 species of orchids native
to Texas. I’m not foolish enough to think I can see them all in my lifetime,
but at least half of those are in East Texas and I’m going to give those a
shot!