Feb 17, 2021
Today we celebrate one of the earliest botanists and his
essential discoveries about plant physiology.
We'll also learn about a man known as the 'Prince of Alpine
gardeners.’
We hear the story of a woman who over-nurturers her
houseplants.
We Grow That Garden Library™ with a book about worms from one of
the best garden writers alive today.
And then we’ll wrap things up with the fascinating birth flowers
for the month of February.
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Important Events
February 17, 1721
Today is the anniversary of the death of Rudolph Jacob Camerarius,
the botanist who demonstrated the existence of sexes in plants.
Rudolph was born in Germany. He was a professor of natural
philosophy.
Rudolph identified and defined the flower’s male parts as the
anther, and he did the same for the female part; the pistol. And
Rudolph figured out that pollen made production possible. Rudolph's
work was recorded for the ages in a letter he wrote to a peer in
1694 called On the Sex of Plants.
February 17, 1880
Today is the birthday of the legendary rock and alpine gardener,
plant explorer, nurseryman, writer, and painter Reginald
Farrer.
A son of the Yorkshire Dales, Reginald was raised in
upper-middle-class circumstances on the Farrer family estate called
Ingleborough Hall in Clapham. And although Reginald was a world
traveler, his heart belonged to Yorkshire, and he repeatedly
referenced Yorkshire in his writing.
Given Reginald’s influence on rock gardening, I always find it
rather fitting that Reginald’s Ingleton home place was itself a
large natural rock garden.
Reginald was born with many physical challenges. He had a cleft
palate, speech difficulties, and what Reginald called a "pygmy
body. “ Growing up, Reginald endured many surgeries to correct his
mouth, which resulted in him being homeschooled. The silver lining
to his solitary childhood was that Reginald learned to find
happiness looking at the flora and fauna as he scoured the rocks,
ravines, and hills around Ingleborough.
By the time Reginald was 14 years old, he had created his first
Rock Garden in an old kitchen garden at his family home. This
little magical space would eventually transform into a nursery
Reginald called Craven, and it naturally specialized in Asian
mountain plants. And every time Reginald went on an expedition, he
would send back new alpine plants and seed from Craven.
When it was time, Reginald attended St. John's College at the
University of Oxford. It brings a smile to know that before
Reginald graduated in 1902, he had left the school with his
signature gift: a rock garden.
Once he finished school, Reginald began botanizing in high places
from the Alps to Ceylon and China. His first trip was to Tokyo, and
Reginald found a little house to rent that had, of course, a real
Japanese rock garden. This living and botanizing experience in
Japan became the basis for his first book called The
Garden of Asia (1904).
During his twenties, Reginald liked to say that he found “joy
in high places,” and the European Alps became a yearly
touchstone. And although he saw some of the most incredible
mountains in the world - they held no sway with Reginald. For
Reginald - it was always about the plants.
Reginald wrote,
“It may come as a shock and a heresy to my fellow Ramblers when
I make the confession that, to me, the mountains… exist
simply as homes and backgrounds to their population of
infinitesimal plants.
My enthusiasm halts... with my feet, at the precise point where
the climber’s energies are first called upon.”
Reginald’s book, The Garden of Asia, launched
his writing career, and Reginald’s writing changed the way garden
writers wrote about plants.
The botanist Clarence Elliot observed,
“As a writer of garden books [Reginald] stood
alone.
He wrote… from a peculiar angle of his own, giving queer human
attributes to his plants, which somehow exactly described
them.”
As an example, here’s a journal entry from Reginal from June 2nd,
1919:
“I sat down to paint it (the most marvelous and impressive
Rhododendron I've ever seen -
a gigantic, excellent, with corrugated leaves and great white
trumpets stained with yellow inside -
a thing alone, by itself WELL worth all the journey up
here…
And oddly enough, I did not enjoy doing so at
first...
a first false start -
a second, better, splashed and spoilt, then a
mizzle,
so that umbrella had to be screamed for and held up with one
hand while I worked with the other.
Then flies and torment
and finally a wild dust storm
with rain and thunder came raging over
so that everything had feverishly to be hauled
indoors
and the Rhododendron fell over…
But one moral is -
only paint when fresh or before the day's toils;
The rhododendron gave me such a bad night...
I… satisfactorily finished it -
though it took till after 12."
Many people have tried to puzzle out the personality of Reginald.
While it’s unanimously agreed that he could be eccentric, I’m not a
fan of his harsher critics.
I say, to discover Reginald’s heart, learn how much he loved Jane
Austen. In fact, his 1917 essay on Jane was judged the “best single
introduction to her fiction.” When he traveled, Reginald always
brought Jane's books along. Reginald once wrote that, when
traveling, he really only needed his clothing and Jane’s books -
and if he had to choose between the two, he’d keep the books.
And there’s a well-told story about Reginald that speaks to his
ingenuity and uniqueness.
Reginald was always searching for alpine plants that would grow in
the British climate. One time, after an inspiring visit to Ceylon,
Reginald got the idea to create a cliff garden with the seeds from
his trip. So, when he returned home, he rowed a boat to the middle
of the lake at Ingleborough and used a shotgun to blast the seeds
into the face of a cliff. You can imagine his delight when his idea
worked and the cliff was alive with plants.
Today, although the cliff garden is no longer, there are many
Himalayan plants - like bamboo and rhododendron - that remain
around his home place, still thriving among the rocks in
Ingleborough.
In addition to having an impact on the field of garden writing,
Reginald helped to change the course of British gardening.
Reginald’s influence happened to be timed perfectly - as millions
of eager British gardeners wrenched the hobby of gardening away
from the elite. By this time, Reginald had earned the
moniker The Prince of Alpine Gardeners. Reginald
had mastered rock gardens - the trick was to make them look as
natural as possible - and Reginald’s passion for rock gardens came
through in his famous 1907 book My
Rock Garden. Reginald’s book and exploits made rock
gardens trendy, and suddenly everyone wanted a rockery in their
backyard.
The rock garden craze made it all seem so simple, but Reginald knew
full well the lengths he had to go to in order to source new alpine
plants. During his two years in China, Reginald wrote,
“You're on an uncharted mountainside, and you have to, first of
all, find the Plant in the summer on the way up the
mountain.
Then in the autumn, you have to find the same plant – if it
hasn't been eaten or trodden on – hope it's set seed and that the
seeds haven't fallen yet – and this is just the start.”
After China, Reginald pivoted and became a war journalist during
WWI - even embedding for a time along the Western Front. And, of
course, it was botany that helped Reginald carry out this work.
While he wrote stories along the Italian frontlines, he collected
plants - once while taking fire from Austrian troops. Reginald knew
this was insane and wrote:
“What Englishman ever before has collected cyclamen on Monte
Santo among the shell-fire?”
After the war, in 1919, Reginald took a trip to the mountains of
Myanmar in Upper Burma. He would never see his beloved Yorkshire
again. He was just 40 years old.
Somehow, Reginald met his end alone on a remote Burmese mountain,
and his body was buried in Konglu in Burma. Most reports say he
died of Diptheria, but the explorer and botanist Joseph Rock said
he was told Reginald - who had become a devout Buddhist after
college - had drank himself to death on the night of October 17th,
1920. And I thought of Reginald up on that mountain alone when I
researched the etymology of the name of his nursery, Craven, which
means defeated, crushed, or overwhelmed.
Today Reginald is remembered in the names of many plants like the
beautiful blue Gentiana farreri ("jen-tee-AYE-na FAR-ur-eye"). And
the Alpine Garden Society’s most highly-prized show medal is the
Farrer Medal, which honors the best plant in the show.
Unearthed Words
When I first began growing houseplants, my mother sent me a cactus
garden of native plants from her home in Phoenix, Arizona. My
Gardening Style: I nurture plants to death. I check them daily,
pluck off alien leaves, and water them every time I notice
dryness.
Now my mother told me to watch the news and only water my cacti
when it rained in Phoenix, I could not help primping my plants.
They died within weeks by turning into a brown, mushy mess.
My gardening style is an overly involved one, and once I choose
plants that craved that kind of style; they flourished more than
anything else I grew. Some of my most successful - and needy -
plants have been an Umbrella Plant, an African Violet, and [a
Tradescantia pallida]. I also find that my kitchen windowsill herb
garden thrives when I constantly rotate the plants in the sun and
prune them for dinner recipes.
— Angela Williams Duea ("Do-ee")and Donna Murphy, The
Complete Guide to Growing Windowsill Plants, What is
Your Gardening Style, The Over-Nurturer
Grow That Garden Library
The Earth Moved by Amy Stewart
This book came out in 2012, and the subtitle is On the
Remarkable Achievements of Earthworms.
In this book, Amy introduces us to earthworms, and it turns out
there's a ton to learn.
Amy’s book helps us understand more about these blind creatures and
the vital work they do on our planet - from moving soil,
suppressing pests, and cleaning up pollution - earthworms
regenerate the soil.
If you’ve ever wanted to know more about worms, you’re in good
company. Charles Darwin was endlessly intrigued by earthworms,
too.
This book is 256 pages of life underground with the magnificent
earthworm and Amy Stewart as your enlightening and entertaining
guide.
You can get a copy of The Earth Moved by Amy
Stewart and support the show using the Amazon Link in today's
Show Notes for around $3
Today’s Botanic Spark
Reviving the little botanic spark in your heart
Even though roses are often associated with February thanks to
Valentine's Day, February’s birth flower is not the rose.
Instead, February has two birth flowers. In England, February's
birth flower is the Violet, and in the United States, February is
honored with the primrose.
Concerning the violet, the plantsman Derek Jarman once wrote:
“Violet has the shortest wavelength of the spectrum. Behind it, the
invisible ultraviolet.
‘Roses are Red, Violets are Blue.’
Poor Violet violated for a rhyme.”
The adorable little violet signifies many virtues; truth and
loyalty, watchfulness, and faithfulness.
Gifting a violet lets the recipient know you’ll always be true.
Like the theme song from Friends promises, you’ll always be there
for them.
The ancient Greeks placed a high value on the violet. When it came
time to pick a blossom as a symbol for Athens, the violet made the
cut. The Greeks used Violet to make medicine. They also used
violets in the kitchen to make wine and to eat the edible blossoms.
Today, Violets are used to decorate salads, and they can even be
sprinkled over fish or poultry. Violets are beautiful when candied
in sugar or used to decorate pastries. Violets can even be
distilled into a syrup for a Violet liqueur.
Finally, Violets were Napoleon Bonaparte's signature flower. When
his wife, Josephine, died in 1814, Napoleon covered her grave with
violets. His friends even referred to Napoleon as Corporal Violet;
after he was exiled to Elba, Napoleon vowed to return before the
Violet season. Napoleon’s followers used the violet to weed out his
detractors. They would ask strangers if they liked violets; a
positive response was a sign of loyalty.
The other official February flower is the primrose, which
originated from the Latin word "primus," meaning "first" or
"early.” The name is in reference to the fact that the primrose is
one of the first plants that bloom in the spring.
As with the violet, the leaves and flowers of primrose are edible
and often tossed into a salad. The leaves are said to taste like
lettuce.
Gifting a primrose has a more urgent - stalkerish- meaning than the
violet; a primrose tells a person that you can’t live without them.
In Germany, people believed that the first girl to find a primrose
on Easter would marry that same year.
And, the saying about leading someone down the primrose path refers
to enticing someone to do something terrible by laying out
irresistible traps.
The phrase originated in William Shakespeare's Hamlet as Ophelia
begs her brother:
Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,
Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven;
While like a puffed and reckless libertine,
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads.
And the man known as "The Daffodil King, Peter Barr, bred over 2
million daffodils at his home in Surrey, and he’s credited with
popularizing the daffodil. Yet, when Barr retired, he went to
Scotland and grew - not daffodils, but primroses. Two years before
he died, Peter Barr, the Daffodil King, mused,
"I wonder who will plant my grave with primroses?"
Thanks for listening to The Daily Gardener.
And remember:
"For a happy, healthy life, garden every day."