62 Threatened Orchids

One of the best things about becoming a pretend botanist is that you can talk about threatened plant species. People believe you and listen intently with furrowed brow. It doesn’t have to be threatened on a world scale, there might be lots somewhere else, nor does it have be threatened nationally, but locally threatened is still OK.

I found a locally threatened orchid one day when I was on my early morning walk. My walks were determined by the compass bearing I decided to take. That direction should if possible always be a bit different from before. There are only 360° on the compass but those degrees get quite wide apart the further you walk from the starting point. There was a crazy poet who used to spin around then head off into the unknown along the path directed by where he fell over. I am neither a poet nor crazy but I do fall over.

This day my direction took me through Mary’s property, a prior work colleague who hadn’t visited her place in 20 years. It was quiet that day apart from the chain saws buzzing in the distance. I headed up through majestic Messmate Stringybark towards a 1000 m high hill just above Three Flats. Fully grown Messmates allow very little understorey other than close ground cover, so the finished product looks something like parkland, albeit with lots of granite rocks. I did that silly thing of tripping myself up on a stick and fell flat out on the steep ground. Right in front of me was a strange plant with two wide green leaves spread close to the ground and a central stalk holding a nodding reddish brown almost purple flower. Inside the nodding bit was a shiny black bull ant. It wasn’t really a bull ant but was similar enough for a surprised prostrate to name it ‘A Bull Ant Orchid’ with potential for yarn spinning otherwise called bull.
I was quietly excited and even considered whistling a little tune. I marked the spot by scratching off the outer bark on the nearest Messmate revealing a patch of the lovely reddish woolly undershirt. I would return tomorrow with my GPS and camera.

Tomorrow came two weeks later. As I got closer to the site I started to worry because the tree canopy had disappeared in the distance and maybe my prospective route to fame and admiration had been flattened in the felling. The few orchids, called Chiloglottis valida (Bird Orchid), were still there right on the edge of the newly cleared area, safe on what must be the upper edge of Mary’s private land.