Six on Saturday: Curing ‘Plant Blindness’

Arum italicum seeds ripen looking like little eyes, keeping a watch over the garden.

” Such prejudice is one facet of a wider disease of modernity: ‘plant blindness’. Many people simply do not ‘see’ plants, other than as a blur of green. Some excuse this myopia as being biological rather than cultural, a function of how humans have evolved to keep an eye out for large animals that might be predators, or prey. Yet Indigenous cultures around the world invariably possess vast botanical knowledge because of the importance of plants and fungi for diets and medicine. Nowadays in the ‘developed’ world, however, we are far more cut off from nature. Environmentalists often have to drum up support for conservation initiatives by focusing on ‘charismatic megafauna’: lions and tigers and bears, oh my!”

Guy Shrubsole, from The Lost Rainforests of Britain, Ch. 3

I am still enjoying Guy Shrubsole’s book about exploring remnants of rainforest from Cornwall to Devon, Wales, and northern Scotland. Just like my favorite Native American Bryologist, Dr. Robin Wall Kimmerer, Shrubsole invites us in to observe the tiny wonders of life where epiphytes grow on top of other epiphpytes growing inches deep on the hidden bark of ancient trees. Dr. Kimmerer tells us that she always wears a small 10x optical lens on a cord around her neck. She leads her students from rock to rock along forested paths here in the United States, exploring the rich world of mosses and lichens.

Those who have studied ‘plant blindness’ offer many reasons for why many people never learn to really see, and identify, different types of plants. I was lucky that both of my parents were interested in plants and talked to me about them from a very young age. In fact, they told me that they wandered through the beautiful gardens at Duke University while they waited for me to decide to choose my birthday.

They planted many different types of plants over the years, taught me their names, and told me the names of trees sometimes when we were traveling. I grew up admiring plants and asking questions about things growing in our yard. Our family enjoyed apple and pecan trees, fresh summer vegetables from roadside stands, and we planted flowers every spring. My mother loved orchids and Dad enjoyed Begonias. There was no ‘plant blindness’ during my childhood.

From an ecologist’s point of view, and a conservationist’s, one must first know and recognize plants to care about them. And only those who care about plants, and take pleasure in them, make an effort to care for them and conserve their habitat. It makes perfect sense when framed that way.

I have always wondered how people could wantonly cut down trees and shrubs, clear away wildflowers, and transform forest into parking lot. In describing the ongoing struggle between sheep farmers in Britain and conservationists who want to protect, and re-establish the rainforests, Shrubsole has elegantly outlined the ongoing conversation about preservation vs. profit and livelihood. Sheep farmers need land for their flocks to graze. The fact that sheep nibble everything to the ground, including seedling trees, is not their concern. More sustainable agriculture requires effort… and change.

Caring for plants, and about plants, naturally includes some element of selfishness. How do we benefit from sharing our space with trees, ferns, mosses, flowers and herbs? Of course, Indigenous people know how to use a wide range of plants that grow around them, and grow or gather much of what they eat. Linking the success of local flora to our dinner plate, and our ability to heal ourselves and others, brings things into clear focus.

Now, we find ourselves in an existential climate crises where living plants may be the only solution. Building new factories to sequester carbon won’t happen fast enough to make a difference and has clear trade-offs. Mustering the political and economic will to limit carbon emissions hasn’t happened. And raging wildfires in forests in North America, and elsewhere, make those small efforts seem almost futile. Our planet will bring herself back into balance, with our assistance, or otherwise. That much seems quite clear. Plants are extremely effective at capturing and sequestering carbon, cleaning the air of pollutants and providing animals with fresh oxygen and water vapor.

This past week we have, together, experienced three or more of the hottest days ever on our planet since we began keeping temperature records. It may not have been hotter, planet wide, since long before human history was recorded, according to scientists who study climate through ice core samples. The average planetary temperature takes into account warmer than normal temperatures in the Southern Hemisphere and dangerously high ocean temperatures. With the current El Nino weather pattern in the Pacific, we are on track to continue breaking high temperature records in the coming months.

I don’t believe that we can afford any ‘plant blindness’ going forward, and so need to share our love and respect for plants with others. We need to share our love of plants with children and youth, engaging them in helping things grow. And we need to make sure our neighbors and local ‘decision makers’ understand that plants of all sorts aren’t just a nice indulgence anymore. They are functional parts of the ecosystem and critical to our own survival.

Admittedly, I may indulge my ‘plantmania’ to excess…. Under the turtle portrait at the top you’ll find some photos taken this week of areas where I find box turtles foraging in our garden. It is getting a bit overgrown now that we have had some very hot July days. I’m out early in the mornings watering once again, and I just finished planting a few last Salvias this morning. Last Sunday, I added to our fern gardens, and posted about our ‘Fern Grotto’ here. Eliza Waters wisely noted the lack of Adiantum, or maidenhair ferns. I grow those, and some wild tender ferns mostly in containers. There are fern photos below for the fellow fern lovers, including another Adiantum for Eliza.

For those of you with no visual impairment when it comes to plants, you might enjoy a bit of ‘seek and find’ or ‘Where’s Waldo?” fun with this week’s photos to see how many plants you can recognize. These photos aren’t as cropped as usual, and you’ll see all of the honeysuckle, stilt grass, and other botanical intruders that poke up through the rest. Wishing you great fun in the garden this week.

With appreciation to Jim Stephens of Garden Ruminations, who hosts Six on Saturday each week.

You might enjoy my new series of posts, Plants I Love That Deer Ignore.

Visit Illuminations for a daily photo and quotation

9 comments

  1. I went on a little fern and plant watch in the woods when we went for our walk, I was quite pleased with my finds, even if they were just common varieties of them. I still liked the names. I found Deer Fern and Juniper Hair Cap Moss.

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  2. I’ve encountered a few folks with plant blindness and it confounds me! I have to remind myself not everyone was fortunate as I to grow up in a rural area where my first playground was field and forest. Like you, I think there may be a genetic component as one of my earliest memories is of sweet william in my grandfather’s garden. 😉
    Thanks for the shout-out and the additional maidenhair fern shots. 🙂 They are such a beautiful and delicate fern.

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    • Reading plants in a planting is much like being able to read a language in print. It requires practice, but also instruction to begin with. All of us whose parents introduced us to nature, and other things, at a young age are very, very fortunate. Yes- maidenhair are delicate and beautiful. And they are also hardy, native plants. I prefer the ‘Venus’ type, but the standard A. pedatum and A. aleuticum are beautiful, too. You rarely find them for sale in our area, however. They are difficult to source. I need to develop more confidence in using them in permanent plantings 😉

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  3. The opposite of plant blindness is why I considered getting a secondary seasonal home in Trona. There is almost no vegetation there for distraction. Otherwise, I find unfamiliar vegetation within unfamiliar ecosystems to be more distracting than familiar situations.

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    • Great point! When I’m in OR, I’m very distracted by the many plants I don’t recognize, and by the plants that grow so much differently there than here. The Monkey Puzzle Tree is the worst for driving me nuts! But I absolutely love all the berry plants, huge evergreens, and amazing ferns. Is Trona in the desert?

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