Human Flower Project
Science
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Plant Patents: Potted Gold?
A variegated redbud won’t make Allen Bush a mint, but if you enjoy growing ‘Alley Cat,’ please buy him a beer.

Even Le Bron James can’t pass along a patented plant
Photo: Baby Wall Decorations
By Allen Bush
My friend Mike Hayman phoned the day after “The Decision” —the LeBron James’s televised public relations disaster. LeBron and his handlers had spent the previous two weeks shopping pro basketball teams for a winning deal. Now Hayman wanted my decision. Did I want to patent Cercis candadenis ‘Alley Cat’: a variegated redbud that popped-up as a chance seedling in my back garden down near the alley? (Unless Tinker Bell sprinkled pixie dust, I can only guess that seed must have blown in on the fair winds to my little spit of land.)
“Are we talking LeBron money?” I asked Hayman. Could this be my ticket to fortune? I wondered. Mike laughed: “No, this looks like the amateur ranks.” (At least he didn’t say Bush League!)
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Self-Pollinating Glam
Floral form may suggest a mating strategy, but beware of flying to conclusions.

Morphology (and display): Does this look like a sexual cue to you?
Photo: via medusasmakeup
Why do happily married women wear so much mascara? We look to dark and glam Tacca chantrieri, the bat flower, for clues—with thanks to Tessa Laird for spotting this peculiar species.
A native to Southeast Asia, Tacca chantrieri has been puzzling a busy team of botanists. This plant, and others in its family, seem to be generally self-pollinating, so what are the lipliner, blush and long lashes for?
“Investment in attractive structures represents an allocation cost that animal-pollinated plants pay to secure the fitness advantages that accrue from cross-fertilization,” write Ling Zhang and fellow researchers. “In contrast, for species in which pre-dominant selfing is the primary mating strategy, investment in attractive structures is superfluous, and resources are instead redirected to alternative structures or activities.” Like fruit production or philosophy.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
The Botanist Gene
Is there a plant scientist among the limbs of your family tree? What kinds of fruit do botanists bear?

Tweedy’s Willow (Salix tweedyi): Thanks, Uncle Frank!
Image: State of Washington
Is there a gene for botanical talent? John Bartram seems to have passed it on to son William. There were the famous Hookers, father William and son Joseph, who both directed the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew. And the Millers: Philip of the Chelsea Physic Garden and his son Charles, who became first Curator of the Cambridge Botanic Garden (1762).
On the eve the Tweedy family reunion out in Knickerbocker, Texas, this weekend, we are elated to have found a botanist-ancestor to call our own: Frank Tweedy (1854-1937). He worked for the U.S. Geological Survey in the late 19th century, exploring and collecting mainly around Yellowstone National Park, and several species from Washington State and the Rockies bear proof.
Cisanthe tweedyi (formerly known as Lewisia tweedyi) is all anyone could want for bragging rights. This beauty, native to Washington’s Cascades, is “valued by many experts as the world’s premier rock garden plant.” (Sounds like something alpine gardeners could debate long into the night.) Marc Dilley writes:
“It was named after Frank Tweedy, a U.S. Geological Survey botanical collector who made the first ascent of Mt. Stuart on August 5, 1883. Much of L. tweedyi’s renown is due to its extravagant bloom.”
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Iris stocksii: Your Day Is Coming
Alpine horticulturists around the world, including Allen Bush, wait with excitement as cultivation of a rare Juno iris, collected in Afghanistan, begins.

Tony Hall working on a frame of Juno Iris
Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew, 2009
Photo: Jim Almond
By Allen Bush
I spent one sleepless hour after another on my London flight in late May walking the aisle while staring at an unconscious planeload. I tried to play catch-up. Two glasses of airline wine and an Ambien didn’t do a bit of good. A day later I came calling on Tony Hall cross-eyed with jet lag. Sleep walking for a couple of hours around the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew seems now like a dream—full of memories of a friend.
I tumbled out of the car on Kew Road at Primrose House and graciously agreed to be picked-up sooner or later. Later preferred. I feared sooner since neither Kew Gardens nor precious time with Tony Hall should be done on the fly. Hall has retired – sort of. He was for nearly thirty years the Manager of Kew’s Alpine Unit, caring the alpine plants and bulbs and overseeing the Alpine House and Woodland Garden. Hall, renowned for his knowledge of Iris, is the leading authority on Juno Iris and working toward a botanic monograph. Kew continues to provide facilities for Hall’s Juno Project.
Tony buzzed me in and was eager to get moving. A special package had just arrived: four bulbs and nearly fifty seeds of the very rare Iris stocksii.
