Adrian, a wonderful example of where top posting is at its best :-))

I won't 'prune' the posting as some people seem to like long threads.

--
Mike

The Royal Naval Electrical Branch Association
www.rneba.org.uk
Luxury Self Catering on the Isle of Wight?
www.shanklinmanormews.co.uk



"Adrian Brentnall" wrote in message
...
Hi Dave

Lovely story - hope there weren't any venemous spiders in there as well !
g

Any chance of a photo ?

Adrian

Dave Poole wrote:
I thought some of you might be interested in this although I did post
a bit about it elsewhere, so apologies to those who have already seen
it. There’s a very long pre-amble to this – in fact it is likely to
be a very, very long post, so be warned. This may turn out to be more
efficacious than prozac:

Many of us who grow a few to many ‘exotics’ in their gardens probably
have the now almost obligatory tree fern (Dicksonia antarctica) tucked
into a sheltered corner or taking pride of place. Some may also have
noticed seedling hitch-hikers that appear growing out of the trunks
several to many months after purchase. If the trunks have been
stacked on the ground after import into the UK most will be common,
familiar native ‘weeds’.

The commonest Australian vagrants are usually Acacia melanoxylon, a
species often associated with Dicksonia growing in its natural
habitat. More rarely, you may discover Australian native ferns that
are and tolerant of our climate. In time these can develop into
pleasing garden plants if carefully removed, but there not all
Australian native ferns have garden value and some are decidedly
unremarkable so you have to risk a bit of time and effort. I’ve done
this a few times and out of several species of fern native to S.
Australia, only one turned out to be worth its space. However, once
in a blue moon something special can turn up.

Back in 2005 one of the major DIY sheds were selling tree ferns at
ridiculously cheap prices and although at the time I had a rooted
disdain for such places, I simply could not ignore the offer. I went
along and chose one that had thick, 6ft trunk and a mass of fat
healthy ‘knuckles’ tucked deep in the central crown of leaves. I paid
£57.50, which worked out at under £10 per foot of trunk. The existing
leaves were damaged, but I was more interested in its potential rather
than the immediate effect.

It was planted deeply leaving less than 5ft of trunk above ground in
order to establish a good root mat, which is vital if these plants are
to perform really well. With plenty of watering it thrived and over
the ensuing year, numerous Acacia seedlings popped out from between
the old frond bases. I don’t want Acacias here, so they were pulled
out before they became troublesome and discarded. Little ‘fern-lets’
also appeared on the moister, shadier side of the trunk and these were
also removed.

Over the next 2 years, the Dicksonia grew away quickly and
beautifully, developing a huge crown of 8ft+ long fronds, producing
flushes of up to 20 at a time. In May 2008 I noticed a very unusual,
small, oval, fleshy leaf lying flat against the trunk about 1ft.
below the crown. It was obviously a monocot with a deep central vein
and reticulate secondary veining and I couldn’t think what it might be
at first. It gradually dawned upon me that it might be an orchid of
some sort, as improbably as that seemed at the time. A slug or snail
would quickly remove traces of this tiny plantlet, so it had to be
removed for growing on in a pot.

Try as I might, I could not dig deep enough into the trunk and all
that came away was a section of flesh, white rhizome with the leaf,
which was subtended by a few pale bracts. Cursing, I took the 2” long
piece indoors and carefully inserted it in small pot of chopped
sphagnum moss. It was enclosed in a plastic bag and stood in a
shallow dish of water and placed in light shade. I was almost sure it
would die, but soon another leaf started to appear and after about 3
months, rather thick, hairless roots were poking out of the base of
the pot.

By winter 2008/9 it had produced a rosette of 5, leaves about 1” long
and just over half and inch across, but these started to yellow and
die down. A poke about in the pot of moss revealed a couple of pea-
like tubers attached to comparatively thick, fleshy white rhizomes
plus a few white, hairless roots. If it was to be an orchid, it was
probably one of the many species of Australian ground orchids that
have a decided rest period. Watering was reduced to just enough to
prevent the moss becoming bone dry and the pot remained apparently
lifeless for a couple of months.

In spring, I upended the pot and carefully teased out the rhizomes,
roots and tubers. They were very much alive and healthy, so were
potted using a fresh compost of chopped moss, peat, sand, charcoal and
leaf mould. Watering was gradually resumed and after a few weeks a
shoot appeared, quickly producing several leaves. Another grew
alongside and growth continued into winter with no hint of the plant
dying down as before.

By now I was in little doubt that it must be one of the ground orchids
and since the trunk of the tree fern originated from Victoria, I
started looking up native species for that state. For a while, I
thought it might be one of the ‘bird orchids’ (Chiloglottis), which if
fascinating flowers rather like the open, begging beaks of young
birds. Realising my plant had too many leaves per growth for this, I
started to look at the alternatives and settled upon the ‘green-
hoods’ (Pterostylis). These are quaint, quite remarkable, but
unglamorous orchids that are quite common throughout Australia with a
very strong foothold in the south east and along the eastern
seaboard. There are over 100 species from which to choose, so I could
get no further until flowers appeared. I didn’t have too long to
wait.

By December, a pair of new shoots appeared adjacent to the existing
rosettes and the largest rosette of leaves produced a fat rounded
bract that looked as though it might enclose a flower spike. Over the
next 6 weeks, this grew into a scape not much more than 4” high
carrying a single flower bud. By then I knew it was a definitely a
Pterostylis, but I couldn’t work out what species it might be because
most have quite tall flower scapes – often 12-18” high or more and it
didn’t fit the description of dwarf species.

The flower bud gained some colour; the base being greenish white with
green veins, while the tips deepened to deep reddish pink. Within
days the flower opened and I was able to nail it as probably being a
dwarf form of Pterostylis pedunculata – a ‘maroon-hood’ found in
Victoria and New South Wales. The species proper grows to about 12”
tall when in full flower with leaves twice the size of those on my
plant, so I’m still not 100% certain of its exact identity.

By no stretch of the imagination is it a thing of beauty; with its
rather closed, upturned flower barely an inch long and a pair of
filamentous sepals, which when viewed from some angles remind me of
earwig pincers. However, its journey here and subsequent survival
until discovery have endeared me to this small orchid and believe me,
I’m by no means an admirer of small plants. A second flower has
since opened with 2 more on the way so it’s a plucky thing able to
develop remarkably quickly, which is stark contrast to most orchids.
I’ll grow it on in a pan and when there’s enough, a small piece will
be planted back onto the tree fern trunk where it first hitched a ride
several years ago and 10,000 miles away.