Nashville Native Orchids: Astonishing Science and Mysterious Folklore, the first book from orchid specialist Soraya Cates Parr, packs an amazing amount of information within its 168 illustrated pages.
The first section provides a readable account of orchid science, history, and myth, as well as the plant’s uses in traditional medicine. This is followed by short chapters about how climate change affects orchids and the close relationship between the plants and certain spiders. But the bulk of the slim volume celebrates the natural history of six specific native orchids, all found within the Nashville city limits: Galearis spectabilis, Goodyera pubescens, Liparis liliifolia, Spiranthes cernua, Tipularia discolor, and Cypripedium parviflorum.
This little book is a convenient size to carry into the field, and Parr provides “helpful hints” for locating each orchid described. When seeking Galearis spectabilis, for example, her first step is to look for sugar maple and tulip polar trees. “Explore creeks, ravines, and lowlands that surround the Harpeth River,” she advises, adding that the orchid blooms in April in Nashville. The book is illustrated with Parr’s color photographs, not only of stunning flowers, but of spiders, insects, symbiotic fungi, seeds, leaves, and other essential aspects of the ecosystem sustaining native orchids.
Each species gets its own chapter combining taxonomy, science, history, field advice, and folklore. With Liparis liliifolia, for example, we learn that its common names are “Lily-leaf Twayblade” — from the Old English tway, meaning two — and Mauve Sleek-Wort. Appropriately, none other than Linnaeus gave it the Latin name of Orphrys lilifolia in 1753, with a single “i” in his spelling. In 1800, the biologist Olaf Swartz “used the double ‘i’ in the species and placed the orchid in the genus Malaxis liliifolia. This started a series of debates that ensued for many years.” Later still, the botanist John Lindley moved it to the genus Liparis. Beyond such taxonomic arcana, Parr provides description of the species’ flowers, foliage, and corm; pollination methods; seeds and seed dispersal; and more tips on finding it in the wild.
Perhaps the most enjoyable part of each species-specific chapter is the folklore section. In a manner reminiscent of the long-running Foxfire series of books or the even older Federal Writers Project, Parr interviews an older local resident on that particular species. For Liparis liliifolia, the interview subject was Mrs. Dewalt, an “aged friend” whose family has lived on the same Middle Tennessee farm for 125 years. Dewalt describes a man “who knew the ways of the Cherokee tribe, in curing with herbs and potions” and delivered useful “ointments and poultices” to residents via horse and buggy. Liparis liliifolia, commonly called “space plant,” was the chief ingredient in his cure for congestion and pneumonia.
“He used cow manure and thinly sliced onions,” added Dewalt. “Boy, did it have a smell!”
The mixture was fermented in jars left on the roof. “We didn’t have plastic back then, so we used the bladder of a pig or a sheep.” After describing how the poultice was applied to the body of a patient, Dewalt concludes, “It was hot, stinky, and slimy, and we hated it, but we knew it was the cure.”
“Orchids represent some of the most highly evolved plants in the world,” Parr concludes in an epilogue, adding, “When a single orchid is destroyed, numerous microscopic life cycles are also halted.” She gives readers six tips for getting into the woods of Nashville to learn the many species that comprise its ecosystem and to further conservation efforts. Appendices present more information on orchid-hunting and explanation of scientific names. A glossary provides handy definitions for such useful terms as “corm,” “dicotyledon,” and “pseudocopulation.” Ample chapter notes link to scientific and historical studies the author mentions.
While Nashville Native Orchids almost subliminally infuses readers with ecological understanding and the need for conservation, it is at heart a fun book to be carried into the Tennessee woods. Think of it as a wonderfully illustrated treasure map.
Michael Ray Taylor is the author of Hidden Nature: Wild Southern Caves. He lives in Arkansas.
Tagged: Book Reviews, Nonfiction
