27 de septiembre de 2024

North American Rock Garden Society articles

A Garden of Agaves in North Carolina, 2016, North American Rock Garden Society Quarterly, Volume 74 (2): 135 https://www.nargs.org/sites/default/files/members-rgq/roga_74-2-onlinefull200cover.pdf


Fancy and Fondness, 2016, The Trillium, Volume 26 (5) https://www.nargs.org/sites/default/files/chapter-newsletters/Sept%202016.pdf
[the many observant amongst you will note my error in application of a scientific name to the picturesque tall grass, which I have always known as Indian Grass]

Publicado el septiembre 27, 2024 12:54 TARDE por mjpapay mjpapay

17 de septiembre de 2024

Gravity

My body,
my arms,
my legs and my head,
this morning feel like
they're made out of lead.

Publicado el septiembre 17, 2024 02:27 TARDE por mjpapay mjpapay

13 de agosto de 2024

Sean & Lady Nighthawk

Foreword. I wrote this three decades ago, but never published it, until now, here. It is an idealized romantic fiction. A reader of my poems reported them to be Pollyannish. A new term for me. It is, I learned from my interlocutor, a reference to irrepressible optimism in the face of grim realities, as expressed by the author of Pollyanna, 1913. Well, you must dream to survive.


SEAN and LADY NIGHTHAWK, by Michael J. Papay

Sean looked into the evening sky, and from far below saw nighthawks gracefully winging through the dusky air. They swooped and whirred and climbed and dove so contentedly that Sean was enraptured with their cavorting flight. He longed to join them in the warm night air high above the glimmering lights of the city. A sadness settled upon his chest, for he realized the he could not join them. Still, his eyes wavered not as the nighthawks performed their evening ballet in the sky. "They are beautiful" he told himself. "What marvelous grace they have in form and flight."

As Sean gazed into the sky he was so captivated that he did not see one of the nighthawks disengage from the rest, descend, and alight gracefully atop the railing next to him. "Would you not like to join the assembly above and wing freely through the beautiful night air?" asked a soft, mellifluous voice. Sean mistook this for a thought posed by his imaginative mind, but all the same, he dreamily replied, "Yes, I would." Contentedness then settled happily on Sean's face. "Close your eyes" cooed the alluring voice. Sean obligingly closed his eyes. "Now open them" trilled the voice gaily.

Sean opened his eyes and discovered to his astonishment that he had become a nighthawk. Too, he discovered that the owner of the voice that had spoken to him was not his imaginative mind, rather it belonged to the sensuous, lithe Lady Nighthawk perched lightly atop the railing next to him. "Come" she said. "The rest of the world has opened up to you." With that she flicked her lengthy wings gracefully and darted into the night sky.

Sean, overwhelmed with elation, immediately spread his wings, and with surprising grace and ease, launched himself into the air to join the other nighthawks in their evening symphony of flight. Sean soared, swooped, churred, and dove with purring exultation. The other nighthawks rejoiced with him, treating the spectators far below to a spectacular opera in the sky. But few below watched. Very few indeed.


When the sun had finally sent its last rays over the horizon against the heavens, the nighthawks reluctantly drifted down from their lofty theater and alighted in the boughs of the tallest tree that remained in the suburbs of the metropolis. Sean was perched near a few other nighthawks, and because of his recent introduction to their wonderful world, his excitement would not let him sleep. "You have a wonderful world up here" he said to all those settled for the night near him.

"Yes, it is a wonderful life" replied a sleepy nighthawk perched slightly above him. "But it's been better you know." This last sentence was uttered quietly, and Sean wasn't sure he had heard his newfound compatriot correctly. "Better did you say? Are you sure? This is the most wondrous time I've ever known" Sean offered with honest enthusiasm. A few of the other nighthawks rustled slightly, wanting very much to get on with sleeping since there was so much flying to do the next day. However, the same nighthawk responded, "The sky is not what it once was. Not as clean I mean. This was a good night. Wonderful indeed. But we were fortunate tonight."

Quite perplexed, Sean asked "But what has happened to the sky?" The night had been so blissfully exhilarating that he was alarmed that the purity of his newfound element might be blemished even in the slightest degree.

"Many things" replied a chorus of nighthawks that yet remained awake because of the restless newcomer. "There is the dreadful smoke from the smelting plant on the west side" continued one voice. "And the acrid smoke of the electric plant on the east side" replied another. "Not to mention the odorous stacks of innumerable businesses crammed in on the north side" added yet another.

"This is horrible" despaired Sean. "But why was the air so pure and pleasant this evening?"

"Because the wind arose from the south, where, thankfully, there are still extensive forests that stretch almost unbroken to the coast" said a nighthawk tiredly, as sleep descended relentlessly upon him. "Let us hope the south wind stays with us for a few more days" he whispered as he slipped into soothing unconsciousness.


That night Sean could not sleep because so much energy filled his mind and body from the experience of his new world and the discovery of its endangerment. When all the other nighthawks had fallen asleep, Sean quietly slipped away into the moonlit night, and flew eastward.

Over the city hew flew. Over his hometown. Over the roads glimmering with street lamps and headlights of traffic. After a while there loomed in the distance huge, towering chimneys, each with ominous red beacons at their pinnacle. "That must be the electric factory" Sean said to himself. He winged in for a closer view. Suddenly, however, he was engulfed in noxious, foul air that began suffocating him. Sean coughed and sneezed and desperately tried to turn this way and that to exit the invisible cloud, but to no avail. Sapped of strength, his wings failed him, and his limp form plunged earthwards, spinning towards oblivion.

To his great fortune this was exactly what Sean had needed to do, and as he entered clean air below, oxygen returned to his body, his wings strengthened, and his flight instinctively leveled off. He emerged wheezing and coughing, yet much the wiser for his misadventure.

Now satisfied of the veracity of the appalling atmospheric conditions on the east side, Sean winged northwest towards the business community he knew so well. As he had expected, the air there was not so bad. But then he realized it was night time, and that the businesses operated during the day. So, the air he now breathed had only residual pollutants from those generated during business hours. It was an area that he would have to come back to.

Admittedly with fatigue beginning to weigh upon him, Sean turned and flew southwest towards the smelting factory of the west side. Again, tall chimneys loomed ahead, each with a flashing red light at its summit. Wisened by his experience at the electric factory, Sean approached from low level, yet still could not avoid the periphery of unpleasant gritty stinking air that blanketed the sky above. Greatly depressed by his findings, Sean could no longer ignore the fatigue of his body and the great need for sleep that tried to settle upon his brain. Late in the night, or rather early in the morning, a very tired nighthawk relocated his companions, and after alighting with great care so as not to disturb them, joined them in rapturous sleep.


When morning arrived, Sean heard a familiar mellifluous voice address him. "Wake up Sean" it whispered warmly in lovely, soft repetition. Soon he was awake, and he stretched and shook his wings to get the circulation back through them. Sean saw before him the beautiful, demure Lady Nighthawk whom had invited him into the world of nighthawks last night. "Thank you for being so kind" Sean said with real warmth and gratitude. "I have never been so happy in all my life as when we flew together. But your world is in grave danger".

"It is your world too" she replied with affection, yet she had detected in his words that he would be leaving, and her eyes glistened with sadness.

"Yes" Sean said, his heart choking in his throat. "You have welcomed me into your world. You have enlightened me. And, I have fallen deeply in love with you. So, I must try to put a stop to the polluting that kills the sky, that endangers you, and all the nighthawks."

"Please tell me that you will come back some day" pleaded lady nighthawk. Now a tear rolled over her soft cheek feathers.

Sean moved closer, and put a comforting wing around her. "Not some day" he said, "but every day. No night shall pass where we do not have the comfort of each other's company."

Lady nighthawk cried with delight. After a few moments, they disembarked from the great old tree that was the nighthawk roost, and descended to the railing where they had first made acquaintance. There they touched wings, then Lady Nighthawk gracefully darted away, and spiraled high into the fresh morning sky to join her companions. After watching her a moment, Sean closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was once again a man standing at a balcony railing.

Ever since that momentous day, Sean campaigned heartfully for cleaner air. Years passed with the young lovebirds rendezvousing each night, and regretfully departing at the dawn of each day. By and by, however, Sean's efforts came to satisfactory fruition. The air was breathable no matter the direction of the wind. So, one pleasant spring night, Sean closed his eyes for the last time as a man, and opened them forever as a nighthawk.

Amongst the nighthawks, chimney swifts, swallows, martins, flycatchers, warblers, and nuthatches, and amongst all the birds that migrate or converse with those that do, Sean and Lady Nighthawk are highly acclaimed. Each night, somewhere, high in the sky over cities and towns, you may see the nighthawks swooping, whirring, climbing, diving, churring and cavorting. And amongst them is the happiest couple that the world has ever known. Sean and Lady Nighthawk.


Reflections: Just as much as we need materials and technology that foster our lives and comfort, we need clean air, clean water, and clean land for our continued sustenance. It is a simple fact, and a difficult balance to find. Nevertheless, we must continue to try to find it. That is all.

Publicado el agosto 13, 2024 08:53 TARDE por mjpapay mjpapay

24 de junio de 2024

French Deserts, Naked Buds, Cacti, and Guillotines

[Literature cited or referenced appear at the end of the article.]


You will not find le Desert de Retz in the guidebooks for the American Southwest, for the very good reason that it occurs 12 miles west of Paris, France. Le Desert de Retz was created in 1774 by Francois Henri Racine de Monville, in Saint Jacques de Retz, France, where Monville had his rather fabulous estate. Monsieur Monville was an aristocrat, was said to be strikingly handsome, had a terrific singing voice, composed music, played the flute, and was a delight on the dance floor, where he was occasionally accompanied by Marie Antoinette. Monsieur Monville was not, however, tall. Being 5-ft 8-inches tall was no detriment, and Monville actually played it to his advantage to elude his enemies. But I am getting ahead of the story.

In 2006, I purchased a cactus despite the detraction that it had no label. The curved golden spines were sufficiently attractive to overcome the fact that the species was unknown to me. I deduced from its chinned areoles that the cactus belonged to the genus, Gymnocalycium, which means "naked bud". As the years went by the cactus grew to rather large size, and at long last it flowered, an event that allowed me to identify the cactus with certainty. And what do you know, it was Gymnocalycium monvillei, a name given in honor of the frenchman Francois Henri Racine de Monville. It was another Frenchmen, Charles Antoine Lemaire who named the cactus. No cactus is native to France, however, and Lemaire conjectured that Gymnocalycium monvillei was native to Paraguay. We know today that Monville's cactus is native to Argentina's Provences of Cordoba and San Luis. There it is able to endure cold as low as 20 degrees Fahrenheit.

When the upheaval of the Revolution swept through France in 1789, Monsieur Monville, an aristocrat, was in dire peril. When the revolutionaries repeatedly scoured his estate to drag Monville to execution, they'd only find his drably dressed gardener, all 5-foot 8-inches of him, and so the great man eluded them. Eventually the revolutionaries did apprehend Monville, but by that time the fury of the revolution had been spent. Instead of being sent to the Guillotine, Monville was sent to prison. By and by, he was freed. When Monville died in 1797, he left a dandy of a cactus to remember him by, Gymnocalycium monvillei. https://www.inaturalist.org/observations/17978442

Literature and References:
Charles Antoine Lemaire, 1838, Cactarum Aliquuot Novarum . . . Horto Monvilliana, page 14
Ronald W. Kenyon, DesertdeRetz.com
Ronald W. Kenyon, 2013, Monville - Forgotten Luminary of the French Enlightenment, page 204

Publicado el junio 24, 2024 09:04 TARDE por mjpapay mjpapay

Desert Poems

Amongst Rocks, Dunes, Cliffs, and Canyons,
Poetry breathes in Arid Lands.

Beneath the Sun and Moon and Stars
There is Life, Death, and Drama,
Where the Fittest, the Luckiest, the most Horrid,
and sometimes the Prettiest
Survive.


No less so
than the Prairie Rose
Desert Forms please
the Eye
and Soul.


[These two poems were presented at the introduction to Splendor in Spines, 5th Edition, 2018, by Michael J. Papay - released without restrictions for copy, translation, and technological conversion.]

Publicado el junio 24, 2024 07:49 TARDE por mjpapay mjpapay

31 de marzo de 2024

15 de marzo de 2024

Key to Varieties and Subspecies of Agave americana

Howard Scott Gentry, Agaves of Continental North America, 1982, p. 281

Key to Varieties and Subspecies of Agave americana
1a. Spines relatively broad and short, 2-4 cm long; leaves straight, guttered, sometimes valleculate, the margins straight or crenate; rosettes commonly on trunks 3-5 dm long 2
1b. Spines subulate, 3-6 cm long; leaves frequently reflexed and otherwise not as above 3
[2 - LEAVES STRAIGHT]
2a. Rosettes with stems to 6 dm long; leaves glaucous gray, the margin crenate with teeth along the mid-blade on sharply angled mammae; flowers 80-85 mm long var. expansa
2b. Rosettes on shorter stems; leaves glaucous white, the margins nearly straight with close-set non-mammillate teeth; flowers 100 mm long var. oaxacensis

[3 - LEAVES RECURVED or REFLEXED]
3a. Leaves relatively short, 80-135 cm long, 4 to 6 times longer than wide, plane or guttered, straight to curving, green to glaucous gray; panicles shorter with 15-20 branches; wild ssp. protamericana
3b. Leaves longer than 100-200cm, 6-10 times longer than wide, frequently reflexed, glaucous gray or green variegated; panicles longer with 25-35 branches; cult. 4
4a. Leaves glaucous gray to light green, narrowed above base, some reflexed above the mid-blade var. americana


In the Preface to his great work, Gentry wrote, "Many boundaries between groups are not sharp, as also obtains among many species, because variation in Agave is mostly of a gradual or clinal type; one form or character changes to another by degrees."

So, we must keep an open mind as regards the cut-off points in the key (true of any key for any genus), and use experience to guide us when the key does not exactly work.

Publicado el marzo 15, 2024 07:21 TARDE por mjpapay mjpapay

12 de enero de 2024

Agave pseudosalmiana

[Last updated: 01 October 2024]

To understand Agave pseudosalmiana we must first understand Agave salmiana. Not an easy task.

Howard Scott Gentry was the Agave Botanist. He was a young man when he entered the habitat of the agave in order to understand the mysteries of their taxonomy. After decades of field research in what he later affectionately called Agaveland, Howard Scott Gentry emerged an old man, and wrote, "Now, like an agave, I am an old being who must make a show of things after years of rain and light catching." And so he did. He wrote a voluminous, illuminating, sometimes entertaining tome, Agaves of Continental North America, 1982.

In the Preface to his great work, Gentry wrote, "Many boundaries between groups are not sharp, as also obtains among many species, because variation in Agave is mostly of a gradual or clinal type; one form or character changes to another by degrees."

Of the Salmianae Group of Agaves, Howard Scott Gentry wrote, "the Salmianae show a high degree of Agave specialization and phylogenetically can be regarded as among the most advanced or modern. Their great variability, obviously abetted by man, is part of their modern modification, a situation of unpredictable eventuation." The species of the Salmianae Group have been cultivated, selected, and probably hybridized by Native Americans "for hundreds if not thousands of years." Gentry lamented, perhaps with some admiration, that "The number of varieties or forms outstrip the perimeters of this work." It is from amongst these varieties and forms that the notion of Agave pseudosalmiana arose.

Agave salmiana occurs primarily in the pulque region of Mexico, namely the States of Jalisco, Michoacan, Guanajuato, Queretaro, and Hidalgo. The climate is warm, with winters that rarely see cold below -4 C, 25 F. From this central pulque region, selections of Agave salmiana were carried north to Saltillo, of similar climate. Yet in the colder highlands of Saltillo there happened to occur what is now called Agave gentryi, a close relative of Agave salmiana. Also in the region was Agave americana protamericana. And the most ubiquitous large agave is also present, Agave asperrima. With Agave salmiana now present amongst these agaves, the species became familiar in the usual way of agaves. In consequence, the unpredictable eventuation of which Howard Scott Gentry spoke, blossomed. Agave pseudosalmiana has traits of all these species, expressed to various degrees amongst the individuals. It is important to note that Agave salmiana traits are dominant in all crosses, thus hybrids with Agave salmiana tend to resemble it so much that one may not realize they are hybrids. It is only from hand-made hybrids produced at Juniper Level Botanic Garden, and to a lesser extent in my garden, that these details were made evident.

Two plantsmen from Texas took the opportunity of their proximity to Mexico to make forays into Mexico in search of interesting things to grow in their gardens. Lynn Lowry and Logan Calhoun independently made collections of attractive forms of what they understood to be Agave salmiana. However, the winters in Texas are colder than those of Mexico, and only cold hardy selections survived. These were admired by Lynn Lowry and Logan Calhoun, and were shared with friends, and by an by made their way to Juniper Level Botanic Garden, a product of Tony Avent's ambitions that sprouted from his world famous Plant Delights Nursery, in Raleigh, North Carolina. Tony Avent collected and sold, and collects and sells, plants from all around the world, with a particular penchant for agaves. T'was thus that I came to know the agaves, and undertook their study and cultivation, with considerable guidance and support from Tony Avent, and one of his employees, Zac Hill.

Inspiration and credit is also due to Wade Roitsch and Carl Schoenfeld. At their now regrettably defunct Yucca Do Nursery, they sold Agave 'Tres Equis'. Wade and Carl reported that, ". . . while traveling in northeastern Mexico, we came across a population of Agave near the Tamaulipas, Nuevo León border [southeast of Saltillo] that appeared to be the result of a hybrid swarm . . . To us it appeared that the genes of at least three species were at play here, with populations of Agave americana protamericana, Agave asperrima, and Agave gentryi all converging. Each plant could resemble one of the species but when viewed as whole it was obvious they were of hybrid origin . . . The best of this hybrid conglomeration . . . we labelled 'Tres Equis'. [Agave 'Tres Equis': https://www.inaturalist.org/observations/244519518]

In order to assuredly identify an agave, you need to know where it originated, and to see and study it in flower. The first item can not always be had from plants in trade. The second item is more crucial, and rarely occurs, for agaves are neither annuals nor biennials nor perennials. Each plant flowers only once in its lifetime, and that may take anything from 8 to 50 years. [They are thus called multiannuals.] By and by, however, selections known as Agave salmiana 'Bellville', Agave salmiana 'Green Goblet, Agave salmiana 'JCRA', Agave salmiana 'Logan Calhoun', and Agave salmiana 'Saltillo' independently came into flower, and yielded themselves to our scrutiny. Eventually, via the results of hand-made hybrids involving these plants, it became apparent that these were not in fact Agave salmiana. Tony Avent, Zac Hill, and I pondered the results and discussed their meaning. So in the 5th edition of my self-published book, Splendor in Spines, 2018, I proposed the name Agave pseudosalmiana to encompass Agaves 'Bellville, 'Green Goblet', 'JCRA', 'Logan Calhoun', and 'Saltillo', with due credit given to Tony Avent and Zac Hill for leading the inquiry to try to understand this relationship.

Agave pseudosalmiana have these coherent traits:

  • resemblance to Agave salmiana in leaf shape and over-all form (especially when young)
  • leaves greener and glossier than Agave salmiana
  • yellow flower tepals that are cuculate and papillose
  • greater hardiness to cold, -12 C, 10F instead of -4 C, 25 F
  • genetic dominance of leaf traits when hybridized, even against the very dominant Agave victoriae-reginae ; that is to say that the hybrid offspring always look noticeably of Agave salmiana in leaf color and/or leaf shape

Agave salmiana

Agave pseudosalmiana

Hand-made hybrids with Agave pseudosalmiana as a parent:

Agave salmiana x asperrima https://www.inaturalist.org/observations/197319785


By and by I will try to add casual observations of, and provide links to, each of the agaves named above.

Publicado el enero 12, 2024 09:52 TARDE por mjpapay mjpapay

09 de enero de 2024

What be ye?

What life form is this?
Upon a rock,
firmly attached,
around the clock.

For half the year,
scorched by sun.
For the other half,
drowned in flood.

Undeterred by heat,
undaunted by cold,
it makes its living,
silent yet bold.

There be not just one,
but many of its kind,
of every color
under the sky.

Friends it has,
around the globe,
from shore to shore,
from pole to pole.

They're atop the trees.
They're on the rocks.
They're on the soil.
Occasionally, they're even on moss.

What life form is this?
What can they be?
Such puzzling,
perplexing, mysterious things.

Why, they're lichens of course.
Not one thing but two.
Fungi with algae.
And they've won the world.

Publicado el enero 9, 2024 03:49 TARDE por mjpapay mjpapay

28 de diciembre de 2023

The First Opuntia Cactus

This is the story of the First Opuntia Cactus. It is a curious tale indeed.

With a common name of Indian Fig Cactus, and a scientific name that says the same thing in Latin, Opuntia ficus-indica, you would be justified to think that the First Opuntia Cactus was from India. But you would be wrong.

This incongruous fact is attributable to two men, the first being Christopher Columbus, who in 1492 sailed west, from Spain across the Atlantic Ocean in the hopes of establishing a new route to India. So, the islands that Christopher Columbus discovered on the west side of the Atlantic were called The West Indies. The island of Jamaica is amongst these.

In 1687, nearly two centuries after Columbus caused some islands of the Caribbean to be called The West Indies, the physician and botanist, Hans Sloane visited the West Indian Island of Jamaica. There he observed that in their gardens and yards the citizens grew a cactus for its regular crop of large tasty fruits. Hans Sloane described this cactus in 1707, and gave it the scientific name, wait for it, Opuntia maximima in reference to the large size of the flat ovoid stem sections of the cactus. Opuntia is in reference that the cactus grows sort of like a string of beads, but in a rigid, bushy way, with very large beads/stem sections.

In 1753, Carolus Linnaeus renamed the cactus that Hans Sloane had found, and called it instead, Opuntia ficus-india. Now you know the name of the 2nd person responsible for the seemingly incongruous name, Indian Fig Cactus for a cactus that in fact grows in the Americas on the island of Jamaica, not in India.

It is at this point in a story that I would normally like to suggest that the cactus should be named for the island of Jamaica, where it was found by Hans Sloane. However, M. Patrick Griffith could declare my error for such an assertion, for he proved that Opuntia ficus-indica is neither native to India nor Jamaica. It is instead native to somewhere in central Mexico where it has been cultivated by people for untold centuries. From there it has radiated out as it has been shared amongst families, grown in garden and orchard, and transported for same said reasons, and by and by found a home in Jamaica. And, by and by, it was described as The First Opuntia Cactus.

So, it is true that Jamaica is home to The First Opuntia Cactus, a member of the Opuntiads, the most species-rich group of the Cactus Family. Serendipity is a curious thing. Jamaica is also home to The First Cactus, the history of which is also an interesting tale. The First Cactus was "discovered" by Christopher Columbus, and is now named, almost unbelievably, Melocactus caroli-linnaei.


References

  • Hans Sloane, 1707, A Voyage to the Islands, page 20
  • Carolus Linnaeus, 1753, Species Plantarum, page 468
  • M. Patrick Griffith, 2004, The Origins of an Important Cactus Crop, Opuntia ficus-indica: New Molecular Evidence, American Journal of Botany 91 (11): 1915-1921
  • The First Cactus: https://www.inaturalist.org/journal/mjpapay/87790-the-first-cactus
Publicado el diciembre 28, 2023 09:11 TARDE por mjpapay mjpapay