Treasure of a different kind.
For as long as I can remember, I've been intrigued by the possibility of finding treasure. It most likely started at a young age, watching pirate shows with their treasure chests full of bounty. I started a coin collection in junior high school, filling albums according to date and type. I loved finding the rare ones due to their limited minting or age. Finding coins in pristine conditions was always a goal. My favorite kind of coins to collect were those that contained silver up through 1964. Dimes, quarters, half dollars, and the ultimate, silver dollars felt (and were) like a real treasure. Finding these in everyday transactions was common in the 60s and 70s. As years passed, my coin-collecting desire faded, but I'm ever watchful for that handful of change I get back from a purchase that might have a coin of interest.
Some years ago, I started watching TV shows about gold mining. The operations ranged in scale from expansive mining operations with large earth-moving machines in Alaska, where they can bring in as much as one million or more dollars worth of gold in one week, to the most simple operation with one man panning or setting up a portable sluice on the side of a river or stream to collect a few specks, which in today's market can quickly add up to a lot of money. It's easy to see how Gold Fever and its promise of quick riches have captured the attention of so many throughout history.
Knowing that I will never be a gold prospector, although I can picture myself panning for gold alongside a picturesque mountain stream, might be fun. I have instead turned my treasure hunting toward botanical gold. As a plantsman and lover of native plants for nearly five decades, I’m always on the lookout for those rare, possibly even endangered plants. My home garden is filled with unique and hard-to-find plants; some are endangered species. Having trained my eyes for many years to look for specific plants, my plant radar is always on when I'm out for a hike. Finding the elusive Lady slipper, a terrestrial orchid, or any other wildflower carpeting the ground makes me giddy.
My love and interest in plants are not unique to me, however. Many came before me, the early plant explorers who came to America from foreign lands to explore, document, illustrate, paint, and even collect dried and living specimens to share with their respective countries or the world. These intrepid explorers, and there were many, endured immeasurable challenging conditions in their quest to find these plants, many new to the world. In 1722, English artist-naturalist Mark Catesby came to America, most known for his two volumes “The Natural History of the Carolina, Florida, and the Bahama Islands.” I recently read a beautiful account of his life in the book "Nature's Messenger" by Patrick Dean. Another figure to which I could devote an entire story is Alexander Von Humboldt, a German polymath, explorer, naturalist, and geographer who came to America in 1804. Humboldt believed that nature should be experienced through the lens of science, emotions, and senses. I relate to this as I, too, experience nature in this way, but I’m still working on the science part. This fascinating figure is beautifully written about in Andrea Wulf's book "The Invention of Nature.” Of all the plant collectors, botanists, and explorers I've read about, nothing holds my attention and admiration more than John Bartram. John was a simple farmer based in Philadelphia, PA, with little formal education. Still, he had a passion for plants and traveled extensively through America, collecting plants and seeds for his garden, which he started in 1728. Although from humble beginnings, Bartram quickly became proficient in his knowledge of plants and his connections to others in the plant world. In 1733, Bartram was introduced to Peter Collinson, a passionate amateur gardener from London, and a few years later, Bartram began shipping and getting paid for plants he collected in America to Collinson, who then acted as a middleman selling the plants to gardeners, botanists, and nurseryman throughout England and Europe. Bartram became so well known for his plants and plant knowledge that he could count many politicians, scientists, and generals to his list of friends, and in 1765, he was appointed by King George III as the Royal Botanist.
One of my favorite stories about Bartram’s travels and the plants collected was when he and his son William discovered a curious shrub near the Alatamaha River in Georgia that he had never seen before. Unfortunately, he couldn’t find seeds to take home. Years later, his son William returned to collect seeds from the plant and named it after his friend Benjamin Franklin (Frankinia alatamaha). In 1790, Franklinia was no longer found in the wild and is considered extirpated, meaning that all the trees now in cultivation throughout the world are descendants of those original seeds and plants that the Bartrams collected and grew for distribution. There is no definitive answer about what caused the Franklinia to disappear from the wild. Still, theories range from an introduced fungal disease when cotton was introduced, flooding, or were over collected. It can be finicky to grow, as I grew one to a considerable size, but it finally succumbed to a fungal disease. Not to be deterred, I am now growing one in a container, and it is thriving!
* Bartram’s Garden in Philadelphia, PA, is a National Historic Landmark and is open to the public seven days a week.
This little Apple Moss (Bartramia pomiformis) below is named after John Bartram.
My love and fascination for plants has never waned. If I'm not in my native plant garden, Saddleridge Sanctuary, I'm hiking, where I might find some of my favorite native plants and look for botanical treasures. Sharing my love of plants with like-minded people is a must for me, and there is no better place to do this for native plant lovers than to attend the Cullowhee Native Plant Conference held annually at Western Carolina University in Cullowhee, NC. The conference is about increasing the knowledge of Southeastern native plants and their propagation and distribution. This four-day event is the highlight of my year, and I have been going off and on for 35 years. My favorite part of the conference is the field trips they offer. Botanizing with friends and soon-to-be friends is one of my all-time favorite things to do. The Cullowhee Conference just celebrated its 40th anniversary this year! They have many plant vendors there offering a wide variety of plants. You can be sure that often come home with a car full of plants for my garden.
I have been thinking about everything I hold dear in my life, and I have concluded that our experiences and times, together with what we love and who we love, are the ultimate treasures. What do you treasure most?