Tag Archives: Abbie Jury

The fascination of fungi

A parasol mushroom, though not, I think, the popular edible shaggy parasol

A parasol mushroom, though not, I think, the popular edible shaggy parasol

Fungi are very curious growths. Each autumn I find myself taking a few more photos of exotic looking fungi and wishing I knew more about them. It turns out that there is a whole lot to know about them – the potential for a lifetime of study, even. I lack the rigour let alone sufficient years ahead so I have to make do with random facts.

We have a culturally instilled fear of odd fungi in this country – anything other than field mushrooms really – and this even has a name: mycophobia. This may come from our predominantly British forbears although, curiously, it appears that the traditional Maori diet did not include fungi as a staple food. I even found an article which talked about “the new science of ethnomycology” which, lest you wonder, is the study of attitudes of different ethnic groups to mushrooms. Apparently the Russians are the greatest mycophages or lovers of mushrooms and they recognise over 90 different edible wild varieties*. If we lived in France, we would be able to pop along to our local pharmacist to have our foraged fungi identified but such expertise is rare indeed in our country and foraging is actively discouraged.

We have no idea of the name of this delicate fungal growth in the base of a pine cone

We have no idea of the name of this delicate fungal growth in the base of a pine cone

In fact very few wild fungi are scarily toxic. We have the death cap mushroom in this country but it is quite rare. That said, it has been recorded beneath oaks and chestnuts in both Hamilton and Cambridge. You have been warned! Amanita phalloides is common in Europe in their woodlands and even very small quantities are deadly. Apparently it smells quite sweet and can be confused with the straw mushroom which is widely harvested in Asia.

The story book scarlet flycap mushroom

The story book scarlet flycap mushroom

However the scarlet flycap or fly agaric (Amanita muscaria) is relatively common and we have it in our own garden here. It is one to be cautious around, certainly with children, because it has been immortalised in all sorts of ways from Alice in Wonderland to gnome gardens. My understanding of toxicology is nil but I suspect the hallucinogenic varieties are often categorised with the toxic ones. Certainly this one is hallucinogenic, as a number of fungi are. It may be toxic as well, though as its use has been traced back to Ancient Greece, it doesn’t seem to be fatal. The consumption of hallucinogenic mushrooms has a rich history through many cultures and religions and there are suggestions that controlled usage may have been a factor in some well-recorded religious visions.

The scarlet flycap is not what is commonly referred to as the Magic Mushroom in this country (it is much more anonymous in appearance) but I am not going to go into details on that one. The banning this week of synthetic highs may see a return to wild collections, with all the inherent risks.

I thought I had photographed the wood-ear jelly fungus (Auricularia cornea) but I couldn’t find it. It is a flabby grey affair, a bit like bull kelp in appearance and was the source of a thriving export industry to China, back in the 1800s. I think it is safe to assume that one is both easy to identify accurately and edible but I admit I haven’t tried it yet.

Common-basket stinkhorn (Ileodictyon cibarium)

Common-basket stinkhorn (Ileodictyon cibarium)

Given that I buy dehydrated fungi of both European and Asian origin for use in cooking, maybe it is time I overcame my cultural mycophobia and set about learning which ones are edible in my environment. Instead, I just enjoy looking at the brief appearances of a host of different fungi around the garden, most here being related to the entirely natural process of the eco-system and the cycles of nature. Just as very few are deadly poisonous, few too are those so pathogenic that they will kill their hosts. Most are beneficial and some are highly decorative.

No wonder Alice declared matters becoming “curiouser and curiouser” after nibbling on the scarlet flycap mushroom. It applies equally to the fascinating wider world of fungi.

A bracket fungus, though which one we do not know

A bracket fungus, though which one we do not know

First published in the Waikato Times and reprinted here with their permission.

Plant Collector: Nerine pudica

Nerine pudica

Nerine pudica

How pretty is little pudica? This is the first season I have seen it flower and it is a delight. The pointed bells are mainly white with a pink stripe down the centre of each petal and each stem has up to six flowers on it. It is a nerine which makes it a bulb, but it is a much smaller one than the more common sarniensis and bowdenii types. The foliage is also much finer and narrower. It looks more a mondo grass or liriope leaf.

N. pudica is a species, hailing from the western side of South Africa. The ever-useful reference “Bulbs for NZ Gardeners and Collectors” by Terry Hatch and Jack Hobbs tells me that it is one of the original parents of many of the modern hybrids. While showy hybrids have their place, there is often a simple charm in the original species. The ones in the photograph are still in pots. It will take several years before we can comment on how reliable they are as garden plants in the rockery but the requirements are the same as for other nerines – excellent drainage and full sun. I am hoping they will do well because it makes a pretty addition to the autumn bulb display.

First published in the Waikato Times and reprinted here with their permission.

An Easter legend – the Glastonbury thorn

I went looking for the Glastonbury thorn but it was not to be found at St Mary's cathedral after all

I went looking for the Glastonbury thorn but it was not to be found at St Mary’s cathedral after all

The legend of the Glastonbury thorn seems timely as an Easter story. I started by setting out to find the local specimen at St Mary’s Cathedral in New Plymouth that is reputed to be the Glastonbury thorn, only to find it isn’t. We have our own legends too.

Glastonbury is in the Somerset area of the United Kingdom. The abbey site has had a Christian church on it since the seventh century, but legend takes it back further. One version has Joseph of Arimathea bringing his young nephew, Jesus Christ to Glastonbury where they built the first Christian church at that location. But the Glastonbury thorn tree is attributed to the second visit by Joseph of Arimathea soon after the death of Christ. Reportedly landing in a state of exhaustion, he thrust his staff into the ground on the slope now known as Wearyall Hill. The staff took root overnight and grew into the Glastonbury thorn tree, revered as sacred through the ages since.

Interwoven through the Glastonbury thorn legend, is the more powerful myth of the Holy Grail that Joseph was believed to have brought and buried just beneath the Glastonbury Tor. The Holy Grail of course is the cup used by Christ at the Last Supper and subsequently used by Joseph to catch his blood at the crucifixion. And with the Holy Grail come the legends of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. Glastonbury Abbey is reputedly the final resting place of both Arthur and Guinevere. Sadly, after about 1000 years, they got a bit careless with the remains and when the abbey was sacked and largely destroyed in the 1500s, Arthur and Guinevere’s remains were no more.

But the Glastonbury thorn endured. Not the original tree. It had a bit of a rough history and still has as replacement plants either die, are vandalised or maybe attacked in spiritual fervour. But as the plant does not strike from cutting or grow true from seed, it has to be grafted. And it does appear that the plant has remained true and been distributed for many hundreds of years.

It seems a little mean-spirited to disturb such a wonderful legend with botany. But whatever the truth is about the Holy Grail, it is a fact that that the Glastonbury thorn is simply a variation on Crataegus monogyna that is the common hawthorn of the UK – the fragrant Mayflower. It seems unlikely that Joseph of Arimathea’s wooden staff at the time of his alleged arrival in Britain was fashioned from a plant native to that country. What makes C. monogyna “Biflora” different is that it has two flowerings a year. Its main flowering is in spring but it also puts up a minor second blooming in winter. The tradition of sending a spray of Glastonbury thorn to the monarch at Christmas started back in the time of James 1 at the turn of the sixteenth century and apparently continues today.

These days Glastonbury is probably associated as much with the annual music festival which, despite being timed for the end of June, seems to be a particularly muddy affair. Despite its very early Christian history and even earlier pagan history, or maybe as a result of it, modern Glastonbury apparently now resembles something more akin to Diagon Alley from the Harry Potter stories.

I noticed the wry comments on a BBC New Magazine site from 2012. “The former mayor John Coles tends to the remnants of the thorn. In recent years, people have tied ribbons to it bearing messages, prayers and maybe even spells. Coles removes them. “It takes daylight away from the trunk,” he explains. He also prises out the coins that people have jammed into the bark.”This never used to happen even eight or nine years ago,” he says sadly.The apparent takeover of the town by new age believers disturbs him. “There’s nothing wrong with paganism but there is a certain taste of Satanism as well and I have always regarded Glastonbury as a Christian town.”

Many St Mary’s parishioners in New Plymouth were proud of their Glastonbury thorn until it was revealed that it is Crataegus crus-galli from the eastern states of North America. Apparently it was planted back around 1860 by Archdeacon Govett. This makes it one of the oldest known introduced trees in the province but the Glastonbury thorn it ain’t. This is a bit of a shame as the Cathedral of St Mary is the oldest stone church in New Zealand with its foundation stone having been laid in 1845. It would have been a charming connection back to the Glastonbury Abbey history and legend where the lady chapel is still referred to as ‘Our Lady St. Mary of Glastonbury’. Instead they just have a scrubby but venerable North American species.

First published in the Waikato Times and reprinted here with their permission.

Future New Zealand – the Simon Bridges and National Government vision

This is little Pouri A, up the road. The way things used to be

This is little Pouri A, up the road. The way things used to be

This is what a well site used to look like, in days past. Maybe this is what the Minister for Energy thinks a little bitty well site in a small corner of conservation land will look like. We will hardly notice it is there, will we?

Mangahewa D (photo: Fiona Clark)

Mangahewa D (photo: Fiona Clark)

In fact, a modern well site is much more likely to look like this. Difficult to ignore. But it is not just the well sites that people should worry about. It is what happens if the exploratory well is successful. I realized this week that while I have shown a multitude of well sites, heavy road transport, helicopters even, I have overlooked showing what successful well sites can mean.

Motunui (photo by Fiona Clark)

Motunui (photo by Fiona Clark)

This is Motunui. It is just over 5km down the road from us. It dates back to the Think Big era of the early ‘80s. Now it is back in full production (methanol) and…roaring. We get to hear it some days, particularly when we get the frequent cloud inversion layers. Some think it means jobs and wealth. Shame about the closest neighbours who get unrelenting noise.

Waitara Valley

The Waitara Valley Plant is just over 4.5 km from us, as the crow flies. It is another Think Big relic brought back into production with the current boom. It is also appallingly sited for noise dissemination and impacts on a large number of people. The low frequency noise resonates through the upstairs of our house. Since Christmas, we have gone to sleep listening to the droning hum every night and whenever we wake, the droning hum is still there. The quiet nights of our countryside appears to have gone. We fear this may be permanent noise which resonates through our house despite our double glazing. The prospect is unutterably depressing but how much worse must it be for the many neighbours who live closer?

McKee (photo by Fiona Clark)

McKee (photo by Fiona Clark)

McKee is just over 5.5km up the road from us. We can’t hear it but ALL the heavy traffic passes us. It started life as just a production station but has grown and grown and then grown some more until the area was rezoned industrial. It probably seemed a good idea at the start to locate it out the back in the countryside but locals living nearby or on the sole transport route may beg to differ.

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This is Turangi A, a few kilometers away heading towards the coast. It is early days yet but it looks to be on track to be another McKee. There is near continual flaring there now, belching black smoke. I keep hearing claims that we lead the way in Taranaki with best international practice. So how come we mandate ongoing flaring when other countries have banned it?

The mistake is to think that there is anyone tasked with planning, should the exploratory exercise be successful. No sirree. It is more a case of: “6 E. Can we place a tick in box 6E? Okay, yes. So 7A – what do they say for that?” And then we get: “Oh, they’ve found potentially commercial reserves. Well they are already there, so there is precedent to continue.”

Look to Tikorangi and North Taranaki for the future this government wants for the country. Our fresh-faced Minister of Energy, Simon Bridges, could be mistaken for the taxpayer-funded PR spokesman for the petrochemical industry – in my opinion at least. In a move of wonderful irony, young Simon is also the Associate Minister for Climate Change Issues and doesn’t that speak volumes for what this government thinks of climate change? There is a Tui billboard moment for you. This is the Minister who didn’t know there was a 200 000 hectare pristine forest park in an area he put up for petrochemical exploration This is the Minister that refers to ecological issues as “emotive claptrap”.

This is the New Zealand the National Government sees as the way of the future. Industrialising the countryside. Climate change? Let others worry about that.

Motunui (photo by Fiona Clark)

Motunui (photo by Fiona Clark)

Plant Collector: Hibiscus probably trionum

Hibiscus probably trionum

Hibiscus probably trionum

This plant took a little unravelling. It is a self sown seedling with large, short-lived flowers and serrated foliage which is lying almost flat to the ground. Mark thought it was a native but I think he is wrong. There is no shame in that. Most of the country thinks it is native and it is only recently that it has been separated from a very similar species, now called H. richardsonii, which is truly indigenous and indeed critically endangered in its natural habitat of northern east coast areas.

If I am right, this is actually H. trionum which originated in the Levant area of the Eastern Mediterranean, which more or less stretches from Cyprus to Palestine. It seems that the very dark eye to the flower is what makes it H. trionum rather than H. richardsonii. Well, that and chromosome counts. There are countless references on the internet to H. trionum being native in New Zealand as well as being widespread internationally. It has certainly naturalised here and by the time common usage catches up with the differences, it is likely that what we will have are hybrids between the two. It will fall to the botanists to try and keep a pure strain of the native H. richardsonii.

Both forms of hibiscus are usually short-lived perennials, often behaving as annuals, especially in frosty areas. They are in the mallow family (or malvaceae) and are showy, even if the individual flowers don’t last long. The common name is the unromantic bladder plant, though that is more correctly applied just to H. trionum. We do have one other native hibiscus and that is H. diversifolius.

First published in the Waikato Times and reprinted here with their permission.