Wednesday, November 18, 2015

A Gift of Bonsai

Donor and University of Michigan alumnus Melvyn Goldstein’s gift of his entire collection of bonsai—together with funds to help care for the collection—will elevate the bonsai and penjing collection at Matthaei Botanical Gardens & Nichols Arboretum to national prominence.

By Joe Mooney

Three bonsai—a Korean hornbeam, a Japanese black pine, and a narrow-leaf Ficus—arrived to great excitement at Matthaei this fall. The trees are just a fraction of Melvyn Goldstein’s large assemblage of bonsai and the first wave of his collection, which he plans to donate in its entirety over the next few years. Goldstein is also donating funds for the care and maintenance of the collection, which represents his lifetime dedication to acquiring, stewarding, and refining
the plants—nearly 110 in all.

A satsuki azalea on display at Matthaei in the spring of 2015.
Melvyn Goldstein has several of these azaleas in his collection, and a
display of the satsuki is planned for May 2016. All of Goldstein's
satsuki azaleas will be included in his gift to us.

The Korean hornbeam that arrived at Matthaei as part of the
first wave of bonsai in the fall of 2015.

A Japanese white pine in Melvyn Goldstein's collection.
It’s difficult to overstate the importance of this gift. According to respected bonsai educator and lecturer Jack Wikle, acquiring these bonsai has the potential for making Matthaei’s display one of the top public collections of bonsai in the United States.

Among bonsai artists, Goldstein’s private collection is recognized as one of the finest in the United States. William Valavanis, who has studied in Japan and apprenticed with Japanese bonsai masters for 30 years, wrote after a recent “bonsai road trip” that included a stop at Goldstein’s Ohio home, “I’ve seen [his] fine bonsai for years at the US National Bonsai Exhibition but was not prepared to see the vast number of beautiful, well-cared-for [bonsai] so well displayed in his garden.”

A U-M alumnus and Tibetan scholar at Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland, Goldstein began his journey with bonsai nearly 50 years ago. In part his association with us rekindled feelings about his time at U-M. It was also time to think about who would take care of a collection that’s been decades in the making, says Goldstein, who is in his 70s. “I’m at a point in my life where it makes sense for me to turn over the care of my bonsai to others,” he says. “I’m excited about this collaboration as it gives me great satisfaction to be able to combine helping my alma mater, fostering knowledge and appreciation of the bonsai art form I love, and also knowing I have a wonderful home for my trees.” Goldstein adds that his Japanese azalea teacher always emphasized that we don’t own trees. Rather “we are just ‘leasing’ them until we pass them on to others who will continue looking after them. I truly believe this!”

Melvyn Goldstein riding a yak in Tibet. Goldstein’s
interest in bonsai started when he went to conduct
research in Tibet via Beijing, where he first encountered
beautiful Chinese bonsai up close and decided he had
to learn the art. During his research 
among a group
of high-altitude pastoral nomads in Tibet it was often
necessary to 
travel by horse or yak between the dispersed
 Goldstein's research is discussed in an article he
wrote with his colleague Dr. Cynthia Beall 
in the June 1989
issue of National Geographic Magazine
titled, “The Remote
World of Tibet’s Nomads.”

Bonsai is a patient art and a long-time practice. Like their full-size cousins, bonsai often exist on a time scale beyond a single human life. The best trees may take decades to reach an apogee of refinement and even then, as living works of art they constantly change. The sheer number of plants that will find their way into our collection is only part of the story. It’s also the quality of the plants that will make our collection great—especially with Goldstein’s gift in place. “Dr. Goldstein’s trees are by far some of the best bonsai I’ve had the privilege of viewing anywhere in the world,” says Tennessee native Bjorn Bjorholm, a rising star in the bonsai world. “He has managed to single-handedly improve the quality of bonsai art in the United States.”

Caring for Bonsai—a Long-Term Commitment
The Plant Collections Network at the American Public Gardens Association describes Matthaei-Nichols as “among a prestigious group of gardens and arboreta that have committed themselves to the conservation and care of specific plant collections curated at the highest professional level.”

A recent portrait of Melvyn Goldstein.
Building sufficient endowments for the care and upkeep of our gardens and collections is a top campaign goal. We need your help to ensure their future by making a donation to the garden endowment fund.

Donations can be made using the enclosed envelope; online at mbgna.umich.edu, or by contacting our Director of Development Gayle Steiner: gayles@umich.edu; 734.647.7847.

Friday, October 9, 2015

Progeny of an Ancient Giant, a Coastal Redwood Grows at Matthaei Botanical Gardens

By Joseph Mooney

A young sprout from one of nature's power carbon keepers—the California coastal redwood— is on display at the University of Michigan Matthaei Botanical Gardens in Ann Arbor, Mich. The sapling is from the roots of the celebrated Fieldbrook stump, one of California’s largest redwoods felled nearly 125 years ago.

Among the planet’s oldest living organisms, coastal redwoods (Sequoia sempervirens) inspire awe with their immense size and longevity.

The Fieldbrook sapling in one of the greenhouses at Matthaei.

Matthaei-Nichols is fortunate to have an example of this North American icon—although on a smaller scale. It came to us as a sapling grown from the tissue of a root of one of the largest coastal redwoods ever recorded. The young tree, which measures about three feet high, is on display beginning October 12 at Matthaei Botanical Gardens.

The sapling is genetically identical to a tree cut down in Humboldt County, California in the late 1800s. The original tree measured over 30 feet in diameter (not including the bark) and its stump could easily accommodate dozens of people, as shown in the undated picture at left taken by A.W. Hendrickson (photo © Humboldt State University). Many trees---redwoods among them---send up sprouts or suckers after the parent tree has been felled or damaged, allowing the tree to regenerate. One family of trees native to Michigan, the ashes, exhibits this trait.

Some interesting facts about giant coastal redwoods:

  • ·         Their bark can be as much as 12 inches thick. This makes the trees resistant to fire damage.
  • ·         The trees may live up to 2,000 years
  • ·         Their branches may be as wide as 5 feet in diameter
  • ·         The trees may reproduce by seed or by sprout
  • ·         Coastal redwoods grow taller than giant sequoias, but giant sequoias tend to be larger in girth and weight.
  • ·         With its combination of longitude, climate, and elevation the north coast of California provides the unique environment required for the coastal redwood to thrive.
  • ·         Only 4% of the redwoods’ original 2 million acres of historic range are left.

A similar tree, although a different species, is the giant sequoia (Sequoiadendron giganteum). Giant sequoias thrive in higher elevation habitats than giant redwoods and grow naturally only along the western slope of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, primarily between 5,000 and 7,000 feet in elevation.*

Burt Barnes, a professor emeritus at the U-M School of Natural Resources and Environment, gave the tree to Matthaei-Nichols in September 2013. Barnes, who died in 2014, received the tree from David Milarch, founder of the Archangel Ancient Tree Archive. Matthaei-Nichols plans to donate the tree to a botanical garden or organization that can plant it in the best conditions for it to thrive.

The sapling will be on display in the conservatory at Matthaei for several weeks. To learn more about the coastal redwood click here for an article from the National Park Service. If you've never traveled to California to visit the coastal redwoods or sequoias, this is an opportunity to see what a young tree looks like and imagine how large it might grow given enough time and the right conditions.

Source: Sequoia & Kings Canyon National Parks website.

Friday, October 2, 2015

U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service Proposes to List Eastern Massasauga Rattlesnake as Threatened Species

The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service has just issued a press release about a proposal to list the eastern massasauga rattlesnake as a threatened species under the Endangered Species Act.

Click on the link below to read the release, which also contains information on how the public can weigh in on the proposal:

Friday, September 11, 2015

Mushrooms, the Hidden Gems of the Forest

By Andrew Harmon

This summer I worked with the Natural Areas team at Matthaei Botanical Gardens & Nichols Arboretum. Over the course of four months we scoured hundreds of acres on four properties, finding and removing invasive plants and conserving precious habitats. Aided by an unusually wet spring and summer we also found a plethora of fascinating fungi, gems of color peeking out from the leaf litter. With fall just around the corner it seems appropriate to introduce just a few of the many fungi that can be found around the Matthaei-Nichols properties.

Every fall mycophiles take to the woods, poring over dead stumps and downed logs in their search for mushrooms. These mushrooms are the ephemeral reproductive structures of organisms that are almost invisible throughout the majority of the year. They are valued for their culinary uses, medicinal properties, strange and unique forms, and beautiful colors.

Although many mushrooms are cosmopolitan species that fit into very broad ecological niches, many also rely on very specific environmental conditions. For example the oyster mushroom (Pleurotus ostreatus) can be grown on straw soaked with diesel fuel. In contrast the American matsutake (Tricholoma magnivelare) is only found in jack pine forests, and even then not often. Some research has even indicated that the abundance of certain mushroom species can be used as a proxy indicator for forest health. Most of the mushrooms described here were found in some of the best areas of habitat that we manage. Their presence tells us that these are areas with a rich diversity of living things, many of which are not easily observed, and that our conservation work is helping to sustain these increasingly uncommon habitats.

Caution: Fungi constitute an important and delicious part of the cuisines of many cultures. However, fungi in general are poorly understood relative to other organisms, and even highly trained professionals cannot always agree on what to call certain species. In fact many mushroom species, including some of the popular edibles, have recently been found to actually be groups of several different visually identical species that may or may not be equally edible. Added to this confusion is the fact that certain fungi---which look, smell, and taste delicious by the way---contain some of the most potent toxins found in nature. If you are interested in learning more about fungi for fun or feasting I highly recommend that you seek the expert guidance of an experienced forager, take a class in field mycology, or look for guided forays with local mushroom hunting clubs (often called "guilds").

Author's note: While preparing this post I turned to two sources for invaluable information and guidance. One is mushroom expert Michael Kuo's website mushroomexpert.com; the other is George Barron's book Mushrooms of Northeast North America (Lone Pine, 1999).

One of the first of the season was the coral fungus (Artomyces pyxidata). It can be found exploding out of
the well-rotted logs that it feeds on discreetly the rest of the year.

This iridescent little mushroom
was found along Fleming Creek,
peeking out from the moss and leaf
litter. Its name is 
Entoloma incanum
and it survives by breaking up and
digesting organic matter in the soil.

Another mushroom that has been abundant since
early in the summer is this fleshy "jelly fungus"
Auricularia auricula). It is commonly known as
the “wood ear” fungus and is actually a common
edible. In fact, if you have ever been treated to a
truly traditional Chinese hot-and-sour soup then
you have probably already enjoyed it!

While we are on the subject of
jelly fungi here is an unusual
Tremella reticulata
can be found fruiting on the
ground throughout the summer
and fall, presumably feeding on
rotting wood buried just below the soil’s surface.

This is Schizophyllum commune, one of the most
widely distributed fungi on the planet. It has even
been found growing inside the human mouth. . . .
So remember kids, brush your teeth!


Mycena leaiana is a smaller mushroom
that grows in large clusters. Its neon orange
caps and stems can be seen from a long way off,
all but glowing in the shade of the forest

Speaking of glowing mushrooms,
this is the season for 
Omphalotus illudens,
the jack-o'-lantern mushroom. The underside
of the cap and gills actually glow in the dark!
It is one of a number of bioluminescent fungi
that can be found gently lighting the trails at
night if conditions are just right.

While we are on the topic of orange mushrooms
here is a particularly special one, 
Cantharellus cinnabarinus,
the cinnabar chanterelle. Chanterelles are a popular
edible mushroom with a history of use in fine cuisine.
However, their mysterious lifecycle has managed to
frustrate any attempts at commercial production.
As of right now any chanterelle being sold in farmers
markets or grocery stores has been harvested out of the wild.

Another orange edible! Chicken of the woods,Laetiporus sulpherus, is one of the most easily
recognized mushrooms in the woods. The outer
parts of this mushroom can be eaten and are
really quite good, however be prepared for the
real wild foods experience as you cut out the
grub-infested sections before cooking.

Here is another easily recognized edible,
and one of my personal favorites. The hen
of the woods or miatake (
Grifola frondosa)
erupts from the base of oaks and maples in
such massive clusters that just one can provide
a meal for weeks. This one was just one of
several bunches and weighed in at over six
pounds! (Full disclosure: I actually harvested
this particular mushroom behind my parents’
house while I was visiting this summer.)

A cousin of the miatake is this
massive mushroom, 
Bondarzewia berkeleyi.
We found this mushroom near the base of
a massive oak in a savanna near the northern
boundary of Matthaei. 
B. berkeleyi is a
parasite that causes butt rot in trees and its
presence indicates that that old oak will
someday in the near future be making room
in the canopy for one of the waiting saplings below.

While searching for a particular patch of
invasive plants at the Nichols Arboretum
we stumbled upon a bunch of old hemlock
trees that had been cut into logs and left
to decompose. Enter 
Ganoderma tsugae,
the hemlock varnish shelf. This mushroom
is closely related to the famed reishi
mushroom (
Ganoderma lucidum) and
is nearly indistinguishable in the field
except for its choice of tree to decay

Recently there have been a number of these
mushrooms peeking through the leaf litter. 
Gyroporus purpurinus is symbiotic with the
roots of hardwood trees in what is known as
a mycorrhizal relationship. The tree and the
fungi grow together and exchange nutrients,
each providing something that the other needs.

Sometimes, when you are really looking closely
at nature a surprise pops out at you. This mushroom, 
Marasmius siccus, is only a couple of centimeters
tall and stunningly delicate.

No collection of mushroom photos would be complete
without a slime mold thrown in for good measure.
Here is one of my favorites, 
Stemonitis fusca.
Its little huts look to me like fantastical dwellings
rising above a strange landscape.

Andy Harmon, from Kalamazoo, Michigan, is working on a Master’s of Science in Natural Resources and Environment with a concentration in Conservation Ecology and Environmental Informatics. His interests include Midwest agricultural landscapes that support biodiversity through agroforestry practices. Andy’s internship is funded by the National Fish and Wildlife Fund.

Friday, August 28, 2015

In the Key of Green

U-M music student Morgan Wynne talks about her experiences at Matthaei-Nichols as the social media and exhibits intern.  

I can’t tell you how nervous I was for the first day of work.

On May 4, I put on a new skirt and riding boots (it was still relatively chilly, people), tucked in my new, soft, and still pill-free logo t-shirt and headed off to Matthaei Botanical Gardens. I parked my car up in the overflow lot at 6:57 AM (33 minutes early) wondering which door to head into as I carefully put on my deep pink lipstick. Meandering down the hill, I followed some staff and interns at a safe distance. About a half hour later I walked into room 125, grabbed a bagel from the selection of munchies provided by Matthaei as welcome treats, and sat down quietly in a corner. Here I was: not knowing anyone. But it seemed that everyone knew each other! After a few introductions, we toured the grounds. We discussed the various gardens and my musician brain did the best it could to pick up on all the different invasives, native plants, and science jokes bouncing around.

This summer I worked 50/50 as the social media intern and the exhibits research intern. Why’d I take this position? I love social media. I think it is fascinating. People argue that social media separates people, makes us zombies. But I think that when it is used correctly, social media brings us all together. Today we can share information incredibly quickly and make connections with a single tap. My challenge this summer was to use social media as a way to bring people together to enjoy nature. To put their phones away, except for maybe a few selfies (next time you post, remember to use #umichNATURE).

I expected to work mostly alone, not knowing anybody anyway. But I discovered that there’s more music and friendship here than one might think. Over the course of the summer, I met some fascinating people with even more intriguing stories to tell. For example, did you know that parts of the agave that bloomed last year are being used to make musical instruments? Sections of the stalk are currently being fashioned into flutes thanks to professor Michael Gould at the U-M School of Music and a San Francisco-based Japanese flute maker. Ryan Gates, a local musician, is drying another section of the agave stalk to make into a didgeridoo. He even had plans to propose to his fiancĂ©e at Matthaei while the agave was in bloom!

Local musician Ryan Gates inspects a portion of the
agave stalk he hopes to use to make a didgeridoo.
There’s drama here, too, of the theater kind. Shakespeare in the Arb is a hugely popular event we hold each June that seamlessly combines nature with theater. This summer, Shakespeare in the Arb celebrated its 15th-year anniversary with a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Hundreds of people visit the Arb every summer to enjoy this show in its unique setting.

A scene from the summer 2015 Shakespeare in the Arb
production of A Midsummer Night's Dream.
It goes beyond music and theater at the Arb and Gardens. Nature has been the inspiration for countless works of art: from U-M School of Music, Theatre, and Dance professor Jessica Fogel’s dance performances promoting environmental stewardship, to the U-M and Washtenaw Community College art classes that visit the Conservatory to sketch. Nature helps humans to express themselves through art, dance, music, written and spoken word, yoga, meditation, and more.

The friends I’ve made here this summer are some I will never forget. They’re brilliant people with great minds and kind hearts. They graciously let me stick my camera into their faces on countless occasions while asking them every little detail about what they were doing. They’ve taught me so much without making me feel insecure about my lack of plant knowledge, too. When I accidentally pulled a milkweed thinking it was a weed while off on some tangent (oops), Erin, another intern, helped me replant it. Jacob, an intern as well, patiently taught me how to plant different kinds of seeds on the farm. Marissa, who worked this summer as the Gaffield Children’s Garden intern, was always a ray of sunshine when I was stuck inside on a particularly nice day editing photos. Jared’s calm, levelheaded demeanor was always an inspiration to me, as my emotions generally tend to control my actions. And I think everyone would agree that our volunteer coordinator Yousef Rabhi’s jokes and positive attitude were the best part of lunch everyday. I met so many people this summer that welcomed me into their lives and made me feel like I belonged at the Gardens and the Arb, even though, as a U-M music student, I typically spend my day in a practice room poring over dots and dashes on a piece of paper.

A soecial program of yoga offered in the Arb in July.
To the numbers: this summer, we gained 263 Instagram followers, 141 Twitter followers, and 1,010 Facebook likes; well over a thousand more people brought back to nature through the use of technology. In between posting on our social media sites I spent time researching the upcoming winter exhibit about how plants contribute to—even change—our lives. 

A summer sunrise captured by the author on her morning walk
into work from the field lot at Matthaei.

Though I was usually kept busy inside documenting the happenings here and helping to plan the exhibit and talk about ways we could use social media to promote it, the best part of my day was always enjoying the walk from my car at sunrise. 

(All photos by Morgan Wynne.)

Morgan Wynne, from Midland, Michigan, is a senior at the University of Michigan studying music theory and music performance in horn. Morgan is working as an intern in the marketing and education departments.

Morgan Wynne

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Training Tomorrow’s Scientists to Think

By Richard Bryant

Developing students’ critical thinking skills. That was the goal of this summer’s Michigan Math and Science Scholars coursework at Matthaei-Nichols, says intern Richard Bryant, who helped teach one of the courses.

Each summer, the University of Michigan runs a program called Michigan Math and Science Scholars (MMSS) in which high school students from all over the world are selected on a competitive basis to study at the U-M. The two weeks of classes are conducted by a university faculty member, a graduate instructor, and an undergraduate instructor. Because the students live in an on-campus dormitory during their stay, they get to experience something that closely resembles what it’s like to attend a public university. At Matthaei-Nichols each summer, Curator David Michener teaches the class Life, Death & Change: Landscapes & Human Impact. I was fortunate to be the graduate instructor for the course this summer.

Five of the ten class days were held at Matthaei Botanical Gardens; the other five at Nichols Arboretum. On a typical day students are presented with a science puzzle to solve. For example, how do you determine in a plant population which species are likely to be native and which invasive? How can one assess whether the trees in a forest fall in random directions? Is there an association between soil properties such as color and pH, and the vegetation supported by that soil? How much water does a tree transpire on a hot summer day and what impact does this have on the ecosystem?

David Michener, right, conducts a Michigan Math &
Science Scholars class this summer
Every day we tackled questions like these, with an emphasis on training students to think critically. We asked the students, for example, what they would even begin to measure in order to make an educated guess about whether a plant was invasive.  They started to see variation in amount of leaf damage -- they inferred shortly thereafter that the leaves of invasive exotic plants tend to have a relatively smaller amount of damage.   

They figured out that invasive plants are less common food sources for our native insects and fungi.  In another challenge, students were asked to calculate how much water a tree transpires on a hot summer day. Before they could figure that out they needed to estimate the number of leaves on an entire tree. Actually counting this would take days. So how can one estimate this number as precisely and as quickly as possible?

This was my third summer helping to conduct and teach the MMSS class, but my first as a graduate instructor. Because of my background and current coursework in statistics I led several discussions about data that students may have collected that day. Curator David Michener stressed throughout the class the importance of working with a statistician while conducting field work, and how ubiquitous the field of statistics is across almost all scientific disciplines. I led a discussion one afternoon about the direction of tree fall in Radrick Forest, as well as which direction the trees are leaning. Once the data are collected, how do statisticians look at it?  They would need to state their hypotheses, decide what kind of test is most appropriate, check that the conditions for that test are met, and interpret their results.  Our conclusion was that, indeed, the tree falls are most definitely not falling or leaning in random directions.

Richard Bryant (center, black shirt) with intern
Joel Klann (white shirt), conducts an outdoor segment of the
Michigan Math & Science Scholars class.
My proudest moment in class came when I asked students to estimate the number of leaves on various trees at Matthaei Botanical Gardens.  I was pretty sure I caught some distinct boredom vibes wafting through the air.  After about ten minutes, some of the students were yawning, socializing and distracted by electronic devices.  I overheard one student asking another why we cared so much about how many leaves are on a tree, and then taking so long to answer that question.  I initiated an impromptu spiel about how questions like these arise all the time in the university setting and in interviews with prospective employers. Consider that professors and interviewers might care less about what you know and more about how you think about what it is you don’t know. This notion also extends to an academic degree. The degree may demonstrate knowledge of a particular field, but far more importantly, it ought to display an ability to think and to solve challenging problems. When I put it that way I perceived an attitude shift no less than an hour later, where the students approached the questions of the day with significantly greater attention and intrigue.

Helping to train students who could be tomorrow’s environmental scientists was a joy and a privilege. Using the two Matthaei-Nichols sites to train students to think was thrilling. I’ve worked at these two sites for close to four years, but it is incredibly refreshing to see them through the eyes of high school students. It’s gratifying for me to see Matthaei-Nichols being used to connect and engage future students in ways they may never forget. Immersed in a natural setting, the students discovered myriad ecological principles—principles that govern sites throughout the natural world. In essence, Matthaei-Nichols laid out a framework for how these students will progress as they move into future chapters of their lives.

Richard Bryant
Richard Bryant, from Rochester Hills, Michigan, is a second-year masters student in applied statistics. His primary areas of interest are consulting and multivariate analysis in big data. Richard is working as an intern in plant records and garden plans.

Monday, August 17, 2015

Diverse Mint Family a Boon to Kitchens and Cultures around the World

By Claire Roos

Horticulture intern Claire Roos discovers the surprising diversity of the widely cultivated Lamiaceae, or mint, family

Whenever I find myself weeding in a garden my thoughts tend to wander from the absurdly mundane to the dramatically profound. It was during one of these moments, while I was pulling out every curmudgeonly weed I could find in the Alexandra Hicks Herb Knot Garden at Matthaei, that an interesting observation occurred to me. 

As I perused the culinary beds, it struck me that although basil (genus Ocimum) and mint (genus Mentha) have drastically different flavors, they belong to the same family, the Lamiaceae family. The spark had then been lit, and I promptly set out on an investigation. I soon discovered that not only were basil and mint in the same family, but many common herbs belonged to the Lamiaceae family as well, including sage (genus Salvia), rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis), thyme (Thymus vulgarus), marjoram/oregano (Origanum majorana), savory (genus Satureja), lavender (Lavandula angustifolia), bergamot/beebalm (genus Monarda), hyssop (Hyssopus officinalis), and catnip (Nepeta cataria). How could it be that a single plant family is responsible for such domination in human culinary creations? At this point, I began my research on the mystery and magic of Lamiaceae.

The Lamiaceae family, commonly referred to as the mint or deadnettle family, is a group of related flowering plants characterized by its opposite leaves, square stems, and hypogynous (growing on the undersurface of leaves) flowers. Members of this family are known for their strong aromatic qualities. That being said, their aroma is not the only trait that makes these plants stand out; they also exhibit remarkable morphological diversity with species ranging from ephemeral herbs, to shrubs, to long-lived trees. It is therefore unsurprising that Lamiaceae species are cultivated by humans not only for their essential oils, but also for their seeds (Salvia hispanica, commonly called chia), high quality lumber (Tectona grandis, the teak tree), and tubers (Plectranthus rotundifolius, the Chinese potato).

Chinese potato (Plectranthus rotundifolius) is a member
of Lamiaceae, as is. . . 

teak (Tectona grandis).

So, how did Lamiaceae species end up being so popular and widely cultivated by humans? While I was unable to find a specific answer, I think I’ve been able to piece together some major factors for their success. To start, it turns out that Lamiaceae is presently the sixth largest angiosperm family in the world (with more than 7,200 species total), growing in all continents except Antarctica. Gathering from what I remember from Intro to Biology, a phylum’s success is generally contingent on the degree of diversity of the species that are classified under said phylum. We can therefore make the assumption that even before human use of the plants, the high diversity of species in the Lamiaceae family is a result of a particularly vigorous genetic code. This combination of genetic diversity and widespread distribution meant that humans already had a lot to work with when they started selectively breeding plants for agricultural cultivation, allowing for a wide array of cultivars to be produced by all different cultures worldwide.

Furthermore, while this may be obvious enough, when cooks use herbs to spice up their cooking, they look for plants that are particularly aromatic. As I mentioned previously, a common characteristic of the Lamiaceae family is its strong essential oils, which are perfect for adding flavor. In addition to that, the strong odors associated with Lamiaceae also form terpenes, compounds that seem to be effective in suppressing the growth and germination of surrounding plants. Talk about a competitive advantage! And considering Lamiaceae’s easily identifiable characteristics, I would guess that after having successfully consumed one member of the Lamiaceae family, our ancestors were more likely to continue experimenting with eating plants that looked similar to the ones they already had proven safe. To top it off, Lamiaceae species are relatively easy to propagate by cuttings and seed, facilitating the process of selective breeding. The combined factors of having an already diverse wild gene pool, strong essential oils, an impressive vitality, and ease of propagation argue for Lamiaceae’s lasting presence in human culinary culture.

Claire Roos

Claire Roos, from Ann Arbor, is entering her senior year majoring in Program in the Environment and Spanish. Claire is working as a horticulture intern this summer.