Discovering Native Orchids

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!

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. 

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.

Tuberous grass pink

Orange fringed bog orchid

Snowy orchid

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.” 

 

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. 

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!