Though the temple is a tourist attraction these days, it remains nevertheless a religious sanctuary where prayers are given to ward off evil, to ensure traffic safety, and to keep families safe. As with other Buddhist temples in Japan, death and funeral rites are a major focus as well (compared to Shinto shrines which are involved with traditional marriages).

Daikozenji, the "azalea temple" is crammed full of azaleas and maple trees. The visual impact in late April is astounding.

Nowadays Daikozenji is best known for its mass plantings of azalea bushes – all 50,000 of them! The temple grounds cover some 75,000 square meters, or just about 18.5 acres. Much of the area behind the temple buildings (the bulk of the property) is literally covered in azaleas under a canopy of Japanese cedar (Cryptomeria japonica), hinoki cypress (Chamaecyparis obtusa), various native hardwoods (notably Castanopsis sieboldii), and a variety of maples (said to number 500 in all).

Paths lead up the mountain to various scenic points, including one hill that is resplendent with azaleas under a thin canopy of trees – the main spectacle of the garden. Elsewhere the pattern is pretty simple – forest underplanted with azalea bushes, most standing one to two meters tall, in a near continuous patch. Here and there one can see the native Rhododendron known as shakunage in Japanese, R. degronianum, as well as two Viburnums, V. japonicum and V. plicatum.

Just behind the temple buildings is a little vale that serves as the center of the garden. Here the cedar trees are bit larger and maples abound, creating a cathedral-like atmosphere. Here too are the ever present azaleas, viburnums, and a smattering of other plants including Calanthe orchids. Plant diversity is highest in this area though this garden is not known for great variety. Here too are ten wooden flower viewing houses, one of which is open to the public during flowering season. The other nine are rented out for private parties. They sit on platforms hanging off the hillside and have windows all around allowing for excellent views. Small streams gurgle down past them into pools full of koi. Without a doubt this part of the garden is the most magical.

One of Daikozenji's featured attractions is a hillside literally covered in azaleas under a high canopy of Japanese cedar trees.

The main group of azaleas began to be planted during the late Taisho period (1912-1926) and by 1950 Daikozenji became famous for its spring flowering display. In 1957 it was given its nickname “azalea temple” (tsutsuji tera) by Kurume City’s Rotary Club. Since that time its fame has grown and now is one of those must see places in the local region. It’s parking lot is huge, stuffed with private vehicles and tour buses during the main flowering period (late April) and again in mid November (when the maple trees show their fall colors).

Check out this video of Daikozenji in late April – in it you’ll see hirado tsutsuji in flower, Calanthe sieboldii and C. discolor, and the fresh green leaves of spring:

The bulk of the azaleas planted here are a group called Hiradotsutsuji, named after a place in Nagasaki Prefecture where they were first grown.

On my first visit to Daikozenji some years ago I noticed that the bulk of azaleas planted there were of just a few varieties, all of which reminded me greatly of what are known as “southern indica hybrids” in the USA. A bit of research lead me to their actual identity, which in Japanese is called hirado tsutsuji, a group of hybrid azaleas that have been grown for at least the last 300 years. The name comes from the Hirado area of Nagasaki Prefecture on Kyushu island where they were first cultivated. Today a number of forms have been maintained, and it is these that cover the hillsides of the temple grounds.

Hirado tsutsuji are hybrids of three native Rhododendron species of Japan, R. mucronatum v. ripense, R. macrosepalum, and R. scabrum. They typically grow up to 2 meters tall, sometimes more, are semi-deciduous, and range in color from deep purples, pure whites, to pinks and are commonly spotted with purple. Large flowered, they are some of the earliest azaleas to bloom in Japan, alongside Kurume hybrids (which are rare in this temple garden). Reliably cold hardy to USDA cold hardiness zone 7, they are nearly fully evergreen in warmer areas, but may be semi-deciduous in colder regions, particularly if conditions get dry in winter.

The diversity of types of azalea in this garden is limited, but as a mass planting the display is eye-popping. I love this big pink flowered form. To date I have not been able to discover its name.

Here are some details about each parent species:

R. mucronatum v. ripense (AKA R. ripens) – known as kishitsutsuji in Japan. Wild plants have lavender flowers and grow up to two meters tall. They are native to Honshu (from Okayama and Shimane Prefectures and westward), Kyushu, and Shikoku.

R. macrosepalum – called mochitsutsuji in Japanese. Like R. mucronatum v. ripense its flowers are purple, but tend to be richer in color and grows up to two meters tall. Interestingly, this plant is found from Okayama Prefecture on Honshu northward to Yamanashi Prefecture. It therefore is only sympatric with R. mucronatum v. ripense in a limited area of western Honshu.

The Hirado azalea group is a combination of three Japanese native azaleas. This deep red-purple form is probably highly influenced by R. scabrum, a red flowered plant from Japan's southernmost islands.

R. scabrum – known as keramatsutsuji in Japan. This species is confined to the southern islands, from the Amami Islands and southward to Okinawa. It grows up to three meters tall and typically has bright orange-red flowers.

The inner garden of Daikozenji has more diversity of plants in general, including this Calanthe orchid planted under the azaleas.

How these plants first became hybridized is a bit of a mystery given their mostly separate distributions. Also interesting is that in Japan they are often given the name R. x pulchrum, which is the natural hybrid between R. indicum v. formosanum and R. mucronatum v. mucronatum. All Japanese sources I’ve seen list the three above species as the parent plants of hirado tsutsuji. My guess is that there has been a mixup in Latinate names by Japanese authorities – a common thing since Japanese names are favored over Latin ones. Nevertheless, the relationship between this hybrid group and some “southern indica hybrids” (notably R. ‘Formosa’ and ‘Fielders White’) seems to be close.

If you are in the Fukuoka or Kurume City areas in late April or early May I highly recommend seeing this amazing display. If you are lucky monks will be chanting sutras (Buddhist prayers) over the garden’s speaker system, which adds quite a bit of flavor to the show. You’ll also have to walk through the little hamlet of Komatsu to the temple’s stairs – the entire way is surrounded by vendors selling local wares, agricultural products (late season oranges and honey for example), ready to eat foods, and azalea bushes of course!

If you don’t have a car, you can get bus service during the flowering period (from April 20th to May 6th this year, 2013) from Japan Railways (JR) Kiyama Station. The Nishitetsu Bus Company provides rides to and from the station to the temple on a regular basis during the azalea flowering period – 190 yen one way for adults, and 100 yen for children (spring 2013). The temple’s address is 3628 Oaza Sonobe, Kiyama-Machi, Miyaki-Gun, Saga-Ken, postal code 841-0203, Kyushu, Japan.

Just behind the main temple buildings is a little vale full of azaleas, maples, and Japanese cedar trees. I call this garden "the inner sanctum" because it reminds me of a cathedral. Here too are a number of flower viewing houses.

Here too is the closely related species, C. discolor, and the resulting hybrid between the two, C. Koozu. Today both C. izu-insularis and C. Koozu are rare as hen’s teeth in their native forests, however, Calanthe enthusiasts have managed to successfully propagate them by seed in large quantity, thus ensuring their continued survival.

While the flowers of Calanthe izu-insularis are attractive, they are collected by Japanese growers for their incredible floral fragrance.

Calanthe izu-insularis is an evergreen terrestrial orchid of subtropical woodlands. In appearance the plant is nearly indistinguishable from related species, with each growth typically supporting two, sometimes three, heavily pleated, glaucous leaves, 15-35 cm long and 7-15 cm wide. These are born near to the ground and grow off a chain of underground pseudobulbs that are ribbed and rounded, giving the appearance of a shrimp’s body, hence the common Japanese name for the genus, ebine, or “shrimp root”. The roots are numerous, light brown in color, and mostly unbranched. In April the flower stalk arises from the center of the leaves to height of 30 to 60 cm, and can hold up to as many as 30 or more small purple and white flowers.

The flowers are typically not more that 4 cm across. The sepals and petals are pointed, splayed out star-like, and slightly recurved backward a the margins. Each is around 2 cm long and half again as wide. They are generally a light purple to lavender color with a hint of brown or orange suffused throughout. Lighter colored lines, appearing nearly white, commonly streak them as well. The lip and column are pure white, except for a small crest on the midrib on the upper lip that is lemon yellow. The lip has three lobes, two large lateral ones and a much smaller central one that is slightly bifurcated . They all point more or less downward. Each flower is graced also with a distinctive spur or nectary, that is often perfectly straight and stretches back toward the flower stalk, typically extending just beyond it.

The nectary or spur of Calanthe izu-insularis is long and basically straight in most specimens.

Its Japanese name is nioiebine, literally meaning “fragrant shrimp root” since the flowers give off an amazing floral scent that can be detected from a long distance away. In the Kanto region they are very popular and entire orchid shows are dedicated to them, not for their flower shape or color, but rather the quality of their scent. I would say they have a floral scent as opposed to a sweeter scent, as is common with other native Japanese Calanthe. Each plant has subtle differences in odor, not just in the strength, but also in the quality.

This species is found exclusively in the evergreen broadleaf forests of just three islands, all in the northern part of the Izu chain – Koozujima, Mikurajima, and Niijima. For this reason, this species has always been a rarity. Consider that the area in question is just a bit larger than Manhattan Island, totaling only 63 square kilometers (compared to Manhattan’s 59.5 square kilometers). While these islands yet contain plenty of habitat, over collection in past years has all but wiped them out from the wild. Currently they are listed as endangered status by the Japanese government, but in truth you’d be lucky indeed to see one growing in its native home anymore. For the very same reason, the natural hybrid between this species and C. discolor, C. Koozu, is a near ghost on the islands today as well.

Calanthe Koozu is the natural hybrid of C. izu-insularis and C. discolor. This clone has the typical color pattern for the hybrid, but its flower is much larger than most than since it is an artificially bred triploid.

Calanthe Koozu, is obviously named after the island it was first found. C. discolor is a widespread and common species found throughout most of Japan, Korea and parts of China. The flower of C. Koozu generally has more rounded and wider flower parts than C. izu-insularis, and the sepal and petal color tends to be a more rich, pure purple shade. The lip as well tends to be broader, reminiscent of C. discolor. In many specimens the lip is white, but often has more yellow on its crest and sometimes purple as well. The spur tends to be shorter than in C. izu-insularis and often has a curve to it. Having said all that, variation in color and form can be quite different from plant to plant, possibly due to back crossing and also because of the variability of C. discolor. So, flowers can have thin or wide segments, bicolored flowers to pure white ones, or ones fully suffused with purple, and so on. The flower’s fragrance can be floral, or in some cases have a much more sweet component. It is a real mixed bag – peruse the photos to see this great variation.

A note about naming. C. Koozu was originally found in nature, but has also been artificially produced since the 90s. The grex name Kozu was registered with the Royal Botanical Gardens at Kew in 1996 by K. Karasawa as an artificially produced plant. For this reason, I am keeping the capital “K” intact while in truth the original plants were found growing naturally making me want to call them C. x koozu. Also notice the double “o” I’m using – it is due to the Japanese name which has a drawn out long “o” sound, not a short one, and can be seen when read in kana characters. Romanization of Japanese characters is problematic and when blended with western phonetics and naming systems…let’s just say it becomes a mess. While binomial Latin names are accepted in Japan, they are rarely used by horticulturalists, hence they experience no problem with spelling issues.

Due to the rarity of C. izu-insularis it is a valuable plant in Japan, and to my knowledge is essentially unknown in collections outside the country. Add to this the fact that it is possible that some plants being called C. izu-insularis may not be full blooded, and so it is likely pure plants are very rare nowadays. Single young seedlings can fetch handsome prices, and adult plants, especially very select clones, might literally break the bank. By contrast C. Koozu is commonly grown and available in Japan, and indeed can be found in the US and Europe these days, largely due to a few dealers who have been willing to export to the international market.

Calanthe Koozu flower color and form is highly variable. Here are a few examples. The flower in the middle is typical, whereas the one on the left is more like C. discolor, and the one on the right more like C. izu-insularis.

As with all things Japanese, hybridization and the naming of the resulting plants is quite complicated with C. izu-insularis. Calanthe in general produce an amazing variety of forms and colors when hybridized. In nature many Calanthe species could be found growing sympatric (in the same habitat) such that it was common 50 or 60 years ago to see plants growing side by side with a vast array of colors and forms. These hybrid swarms were common on the islands of Kyushu and Shikoku, and in fact lead to the ebine craze that hit the country in the 1970s and 1980s. That craze was supported by the collection of wild plants, with select clones carrying near insane prices. To make a long story short, a viral epidemic hit the hobby hard, and by the mid 80s the entire thing seemed to be on the very threshold of collapse. Ironically, wild populations were so devastated by this collecting spree that most species have become threatened in the wild, and most remain so to this day.

Some forms of Calanthe Koozu are mostly white like this one, or are bicolored white and yellow, or are completely yellow. This form is called 'Shuuhakko'.

Then in the mid 80s a few pioneering growers were experimenting with methods for seed propagation in the lab, very nearly at the 11th hour. It was found that lab grown seedlings don’t carry the virus and suddenly new life was breathed back into the hobby, but it never has reached the fevered pitch it had back in the glory days. With controlled artificial hybridization the quality and quantity of ebine increased rapidly. In more recent times hybridization has become very complex, much like in Paphiopedilum or Dendrobium hybrids, making clear classifications difficult. See the chart at the end this article showing the classification scheme for C. izu-insularis. Remember, these are the basic hybrid types and as the years pass, the lines separating particular types becomes more and more hazy. The naming of various Japanese Calanthe hybrid types is an article in and of itself and really needs to be treated separately – I’ll do it one day!

A quick note about growing Japanese Calanthe. These are heat tolerant plants that require a chilling period in winter to grow and flower correctly. Indeed, the Izu Islands are essentially subtropical, but don’t think they are like Florida – winters there are pronounced enough to induce a dormancy from November through most of March. C. izu-insularis and its hybrids can be grown comfortably in USDA cold hardiness zones 7 and 8 without special protective measures, and where winters are overall cool (say the Pacific coastal states in the US or parts of the UK) zone 9 is acceptable too. Regions with colder winters will require heavy mulch, but unless summers are sufficiently warm and humid, these plants are unlikely to thrive.

C. izu-insularis has been hybridized with a wide range of other Japanese Calanthe. One hybrid type is called Kibananioi, created by crossing C. izu-insularis with C. sieboldii.

Having said that, evergreen Calanthe in general are best grown in pots, not in the open garden. One reason is that virus transmission in the ground can lead to wholesale loss of a collection whereas suspect plants grown in pots can be simply thrown away in the domestic trash (pot, compost, plant, and all!). Virus infected plants often have light colored streaking in the leaves, and the flowers can be blotched and malformed. Indeed, less serious infections and bug infestations can cause alarming symptoms as well, and the differences need to be learned by serious grows of these plants. If I find a plant that is suspect, without deliberating, I throw it away – the risk of viral contaminants infecting other plants is just too high.

The compost should be coarse in structure with a high level of organic materials. I use a mix of coarse pumice (diameter size around 2 cm), coir, and fine grade orchid bark. Keep the plants moist at all times. In summer they should be fertilized on a regular basis starting after flowering and particularly at the end of the growing season – September and October here – so that they can produce large, flowering size buds for the following spring. These protrude out of the medium a bit and are green in color.

The hybrids of Calanthe izu-insularis are of seven basic types as seen in this chart. Abbreviations as follows: IZU (C. izu-insularis), DIS (C. discolor), SIB (C. sieboldii), and ARIS (C. aristulifera). The designations in parentheses are other Calanthe hybrid types, for example DIS x SIB = Takane, the natural hybrid between C. discolor and C. sieboldii.

When temperatures rise in late March or April they will begin rapid growth and flower within a few weeks. The leaves can last up to three seasons, but I usually prune off old leaves after two years since they tend to accumulate rot spots – another problem with growing these plants. In summer water daily in times of high heat and try to keep your plants in humid conditions. These are forest dwellers in the wild, so grow them like a fern, not a cactus.

Lovely and precious, C. izu-insularis and its hybrids beckon the serious terrestrial orchid grower – but watch out, they can also empty your wallet!

This is an epiphytic, dwarf evergreen orchid of warm tropical rain forests. It is a clump forming species with cane-like pseudobulbs ranging from 6-20 cm long at flowering size, and each holding between 3-5 leaves. These canes are somewhat zig-zag in shape, and are segmented with each bearing a sheath, short petiole, and one succulent leaf. The leaves are simple, elongate, blunt tipped, with a distinct midrib, each 3-10 cm long and 0.6-1.5 cm wide. They are a pleasant light apple green, and somewhat shiny. The roots are numerous, white, wiry, and unbranched. Both canes and roots are borne off short, stout, and highly branched rhizomes.

Epidendrum trialatum is a clumping species that looks like an alba flowered form of E. difforme.

The flowers of E. trialatum are its most startling feature. They are produced at the terminus of each cane only, borne singly or at most four (perhaps 5?) in number in a loose clump. The overall flower shape is typical for the genus, with a relatively large, broad lip that is bilobed, three sepals all similar in size and shape, and two very narrow, wire-like petals. Each flower is approximately 3 cm long vertically, and 2 cm across horizontally. The flowers are a pure, startlingly white color throughout. They are pungently sweet, with a hint of spice, and give off most of their fragrance at night.

This is an orchid of warm rainforests and deciduous forests on the Pacific side of Panama at altitudes between 500-1000 meters, as well as the Cordillera de Tilarán in Costa Rica. I can find no other reliable reports of it growing in other parts of Central or South America.

Epidendrum trialatum has pristine white flowers, unusual for an Epidendrum.

This dwarf orchid is remarkably similar looking to Epidendrum difforme, a species that was once considered a highly variable plant found throughout tropical America. In the 1980s and 1990s many of these forms (20 or more!) were partitioned out as separate entities, notably by Robert L. Dressler and Eric Hágsater, and now comprise a group known as the “Epidendrum difforme complex”. In fact it was Hágsater who described E. trialatum in 1984 as a new species from Panama. One of the distinguishing characteristics of this species is the hood that covers the column of the flower – it is frilled at the end, and its lateral lobes as well are serrated. See this link to view Kew’s specimen details on this species.

I first came across E. trialatum in Japan at the famous Grand Prix International Orchid Festival in Tokyo in 2010. I remember seeing an immense plant on display with perhaps a hundred stems, many bearing 2-5 snow white miniature flowers. That caught my eye, but not enough for me to take a picture for some reason. The plant was familiar enough – a dead ringer for an alba flowered form of E. difforme. The label confirmed my suspicion, reading, “Dendrobium difforme ‘white’“. Hmm, interesting. It even was awarded with a CHM (Certificate of Horticultural Merit) from the Japanese Orchid Growers Association (JOGA), so I figured it must be a valid name. It was only until I researched further that I found it was indeed a distinct species from E. difforme.

What is there to say about this plant, other than that it is the perfect specimen for orchid nuts who don’t have a lot of space? The pure white flowers are a delight, and though small, are produced in such great numbers that they put on a lovely show. Their odor is best sampled at night, and is nice enough in small whiffs, but you don’t want to take it in too deep – just a little too odd and spicy for that. Suffice it to say, you will easily smell the flowers if you are within arm’s reach.

The cane or pseudobulb of Epidendrum trialatum looks something like a reed, hence it belongs to a group known as the reed stem Epidendrums.

I have found it to be completely undemanding in culture, needing only adequate humidity, moisture, and occasional fertilizer to thrive. I have my lone plant in a small clay pot loosely packed with sphagnum moss with broken crock for drainage. In winter it endures temperatures between 5-15 C for two or more months, also the time in which it flowers. In summer it goes outside, hanging in a plum tree and is subject to the vagaries of the local climate – tons of rain, heat, and wind. It takes this all in stride as long as it remains well watered. Avoid water logging the roots however. As with many fine rooted epiphytes, this plant responds well to drying between waterings (which need to be frequent) as long as the humidity is high.

Ideally, it should be grown warmer year round, above 15 C. It should grow well mounted as it has been reported to grow on wooden fences in habitat. If grown in sharply drained compost in pots though, you are likely to grow a larger, more robust plant. A pot full of flowering stems is a sight worth seeing, and luckily not that difficult to accomplish. No direct sun on this one, and yet avoid too much shade as well – “Cattleya light” is perfect – diffuse and bright.

Although it seems a bit more rare in the states compared to Asia, you can source one if you look around. This is another wonderful little orchid that I highly recommend to anyone, particularly those interested in novelty species.

The flowers open synchronously, and though small, they put on a real show.

Without a doubt, C. parviflorum is the most variable Cypripedium species both in terms of morphology and habitat preference in North America. In all not less than two dozen names have been given to this species at the level of specific or varietal rank – a tribute to the variation within plants seen in the field. This has lead some authors to consider C. parviflorum to be either a very diverse grouping of one species, or on the other extreme, to place them into a number of different species and/or varieties. Today, most botanists have agreed to disagree and call all North American plants C. parviflorum, with at most three varieties in existence: two small flowered plants, v. parviflorum and v. makasin, and one larger flowered form, v. pubescens.

Cypripedium parviflorum v. makasin is a small slipper orchid of North America. In coloring it is very similar to the Eurasian C. calceolus, and for many years all North American plants were considered varieties of that species. Grown and photographed by Darcy Gunnlaugson.

To further confound things, even the small flowered plants don’t quite fit any easy classification. The one attribute that seems constant across the range of plants now known as v. parviflorum and v. makasin is they all have smaller flowers when compared to the larger flowered v. pubescens. In fact it is this attribute that in the end holds this rather uncertain classification scheme together. For purposes of horticultural interest, I will speak of the two small flowered forms as distinct varieties since they clearly are different in form and cultural needs.

The small yellow lady slipper is a perennial, deciduous, terrestrial orchid of generally moist to wet habitats. Like the flower, the plants tend to be smaller in size compared to v. pubescens, averaging between 15-30 cm tall, with v. makasin commonly being a smaller plant than v. parviflorum. The thin stem is lightly pubescent and usually carries 3-4 lanceolate leaves held opposite each other, 3-10 cm long, and 1-3 cm wide. They are usually a pleasing apple green and also are lightly pubescent. The rhizome is thick and clumping with numerous roots.

One or two flowers (rarely three) grace the apex of the stem, each attended by one floral bract. The flowers are small, not more than 4.5 cm in total spread, and often smaller. The dorsal sepal is held more or less erect and is often twisted with undulating margins, 2-4 cm long and around 2 cm wide. The synsepal is similar in shape, but is held much more flat than the dorsal sepal, and is bifurcated at its apex. The slightly descending petals are relatively long and narrow, and twist 2-4 times forming a light braid, 3-5 cm long and less than 1 cm wide. The lip averages not more than 3 cm in length and in extreme specimens can be half that size. It ranges from ovoid to ellipsoid in shape and has a small orifice. The staminode is elongate and roughly triangular in shape.

Flower color is somewhat variable except that the lip is virtually always a clear, rich lemon yellow. The sepals and petals tend to be similarly colored on any given plant with a light green-yellow base color, and yet looking brown to dark brown in overall color. This is due to spotting and blotching of said flower parts, forming anything from a near pure dark purple-brown look (typical of v. makasin) to a more striated pattern. The lip is often spotted and blotched with crimson or brick red, especially in its interior and around the orifice margins. In extreme examples this red blotching can occur over the entire lip – a more common occurrence in western forms of v. makasin. The yellow staminode as well is often blotched with crimson. Variety makasin is well know for its intensely sweet odor, while v. parviflorum has a more subtle floral scent.

The eastern form of Cypripedium parviflorum v. makasin has a very consistent appearance with dark colored sepals and petals and red blotching confined to the interior of the lip, lip orifice, and staminode. These eastern plants are commonly seen in wet habitats on calcareous substrates. Grown and photographed by Ron Burch.

These two small flowered varieties have distinctly different ranges, with v. makasin favoring the far north and west, and v. parviflorum more southern and eastern regions. Specifically, v. makasin can be found from northern New England, throughout much of northern New York, northwest Pennsylvania, northernmost parts of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, most of Iowa, and northward to Newfoundland, through the southern half of Quebec, much of Ontario, the southern third of Manitoba, central Saskatchewan, most of Alberta, and the eastern half of British Columbia. It is also found southward down the mountains into western Washington state, the Rockies of western Montana, and northward into the Northwest Territories, the Yukon, and the mountains of northern Alaska. Two disjunct populations have been recorded in extreme northeast Utah, and the northwest corner of California (based on one collection in Sierra County).

Variety parviflorum is found from southernmost New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Connecticut, southern New York, northwestern New Jersey, southeastern Pennsylvania, Maryland, Delaware, Virginia, West Virginia, the piedmont and mountains of North Carolina and South Carolina, northern Georgia, northern Alabama, Tennessee, Kentucky, extreme southern Ohio, northern Arkansas, southern Missouri, and the extreme eastern edges of Oklahoma, Kansas, and Nebraska.

The two varieties are also at odds with regard to habitat. Variety makasin is most commonly found in wet habitats such as wet prairies, fens, bogs, and swamps with calcareous soils, while v. parviflorum seems to prefer drier deciduous woodlands in acidic soils. It is said that this form prefers more acidic sites than its bigger cousin, v. pubescens.

The more southernly growing Cypripedium parviflorum v. parviflorum is similar to v. pubescens, but has smaller flowers. This plant is a seedling from a Connecticut clone grown by Paul Perakos for more than 30 years. Grown and photographed by Ron Burch.

Given the distinct differences of the two varieties, there has been much discussion about them. The most obvious and cohesive group is v. makasin in the eastern end of its range. Virtually all of these plants have a very similar appearance and grow in the similar habitats. They comprise the “typical” form of what used to be called Cypripedium parviflorum – very small plants with dark sepals and petals, and little or no red spotting on the lip’s outer surface. Unfortunately, as you move westward, variation within v. makasin increases, and one is left with the idea that maybe these plants are distinct from the eastern ones. The more southern growing v. parviflorum is no less difficult to handle. It can intergrade (in terms of characteristics) with v. pubescens so that clear distinctions may be difficult to discern in some plants. For this reason some authors place v. parviflorum within v. pubescens. Certainly these plants are not the “typical form” of the original “C. parviflorum” concept.

In the end we are left with more questions than answers. Still, the general wisdom seems to favor the model of a highly variable, yet single species. Some authors (notably Sheviak) support the idea that v. makasin is distinct from v. parviflorum, yet significantly others do not, for example Cribb. In his seminal monograph “The Genus Cypripedium” Cribb states: “The distinctiveness of vars. parviflorum and makasin is, I believe, practically impossible to see in herbarium material, and Sheviak’s photographic comparison of them is unconvincing.” And so, things remain unclear, at least from the position of trying to name all the various forms out in the field.

An odd, outlying collection of v. makasin made by Alice King (undated) from Sierra County (Union Hill) seems to be a single instance of this species in California. Such odd collections happen from time to time, and may represent mistakes or simply may be due to one off plants of remnant populations. Utah populations as well, if they still exist, are no doubt very a rare these days. I’d also like to know more about populations of v. parviflorum that are supposed to exist in Delaware and New Jersey, and for that matter southern New York. I suspect these ranges are historical only and if you look for them nowadays you will be left scratching your head. Certainly in all my years looking in southern New York I never came across one yellow lady slipper, large or small.

In the western end of its range Cypripedium parviflorum v. makasin becomes more variable in color. The sepals and petals can be rather light or have a more striated appearance. Also, red or red-brown spotting can cover the outside of the lip, as readily seen in the right side plant. Grown and photographed by Darcy Gunnlaugson.

My experience with this species goes back to when I was a teen. At the time I had orchid fever and had looked (with my father) high and low for this plant in the woodlands of southern New York state. We never did find one, though stories abounded of plants “in the high hills of those woods over there”, etc. Maybe they still existed there at the time (the late 70s), but I doubt few do anymore. We did grow v. makasin for many years, as well as v. pubescens. Both seemed rather easy in the acidic rocky soils of northern Westchester County, though years later I learned their preference for more sweet soils.

Cypripedium parviflorum can be grown from seed easily these days. These are couple seasons off flowering size.

After high school I moved to Florida to go to college and gave up on Cypripedium cultivation. Then in the early 90s I began taking hiking trips into the southern mountains of Georgia, North Carolina, and Tennessee. During these excursions I came across my old love – Cyps in the wild. This kindled my passion for the genus and I began the unlikely endeavor of trying to grow them in Florida – a place ill suited to any Cyp. To mitigate the high temperatures of summer, I grew C. parviflorum v. makasin and C. reginae in pots in a “reverse cycle” scheme, that is, growing them under lights in a cool porch in winter and then giving them a “winter rest” in the dead of summer by putting the pots in plastic bags and vernalizing them in the refrigerator for 4 months. In this way I managed to keep both plants alive and even got them to flower – in fact v. makasin was very reliable about flowering even under these less than perfect conditions.

Jumping ahead another five years I again tried my hand at v. parviflorum, this time in southern Japan. I got hold of seedling plants of v. parviflorum, and after 5 years managed to get a couple close to flowering size. Then, in 2011, a mysterious fungal infection knocked back many of my Cyps and the v. parviflorum were killed outright. My conclusion is that this variety needs colder temperatures than local conditions can provide.

So what do these plants require? In my experience v. makasin is an easy plant to grow and flower if you live in the right climate. Given proper conditions it can readily clump and responds well to division, so making many more plants is possible. All that is required is a well draining, yet continuously moist substrate with a slightly acidic to neutral reaction. While plants in the wild often grow in wet conditions, this is not required in culture and could lead to rot problems. This is a plant that can withstand some sun, though sun in the morning and high shade the rest of the day is optimal. Any reasonable compost may be used – figure at least 50% inorganic materials such as sand, gravel, pumice, etc, and the rest a mix of a good woodland loam with some organic content. Avoid truly acid materials such as “top soil”, conifer needles, or peat moss. Sedge peat in limited quantity can work well with this variety as long as it is mixed with generous amounts of silica sand, perlite, etc. This is not a fussy plant.

The natural hybrid of Cypripedium parviflorum and Cypripedium candidum is C. x andrewsii. It is an easy garden subject, forming large clumps in just a few years, but prefers more sun than most Cyps. Grown and photographed by Paul Perakos.

As for the more elusive v. parviflorum, you need to think of a more acidic compost, though not as much as C. acaule requires. Drainage is important with this form, so I would recommend coarse structured materials such as pumice, gravels, as well as commercial brand products such as Soil Perfector, Turface, and the like mixed with a good acidic woods loam at the rate of around 2:1. In nature these plants occur in deciduous woodlands, often in hilly areas or mountain tops that are very well drained. By all accounts this is the more finicky of the two small flowered varieties to grow, and most certainly is more difficult to obtain in the trade.

Given their different ranges, v. makasin and v. parviflorum have different temperature requirements, with the former being more cold tolerant of the two, and the later more heat tolerant. Nevertheless, both should be quite cold hardy, especially v. makasin, which should be fully hardy to USDA cold hardiness zone 2 and can be grown up to zone 6. Variety parviflorum is perhaps less resistant to extreme cold, but still should be fully hardy to at least USDA zone 4, and southern derived plants can perhaps even endure zone 7b.

In the wild v. makasin is sometimes found growing alongside Cypripedium candidum, and in such mixed colonies the resulting natural hybrid, C. x andrewsii, can be sometimes seen. This plant is intermediate in color with the parents, having generally strongly colored sepals and petals as well as a lovely white lip. It is very easy in culture, forming clumps in a relatively short time. Like its parent C. candidum, it favors sunnier conditions than most Cyps, and prefers neutral to basic composts. Variety makasin has also been used in a number of artificial hybrids, notably C. Gisela (x C. macranthos) and C. Emil (x C. calceolus). Most of these have proven to be very vigorous growers – much easier than the parent species under “normal garden” conditions.

The artificial cross Cypripedium Gisela is a hybrid between C. parviflorum and C. macranthos. Likely most plants were produced using v. makasin. This is a very strong growing hybrid, clumping quickly and tolerating less than perfect garden conditions. This plant is growing in my southern Japanese garden in an equivalent USDA cold hardiness zone 9. While this is not optimal, the plant continues to grow and flower.

If you get the chance I highly recommend growing these lovely little slippers, in particular v. makasin. This is a plant that delights the senses not only due to its tiny stature (yet robust habit), but also because of its richly colored flowers, and intensely sweet odor. If that weren’t enough, it is one of the easiest Cyp species to grow. I ask you, how could you resist such a plant?

This large clump of Cypripedium reginae was bought from Tom Nelson. It was rescued legally from a construction project in Minnesota and grown on by Paul Perakos in Connecticut. Photo by Paul Perakos.

So, with these considerations in mind, here is a list of quality North American nurseries where you can buy lady slipper orchids online with confidence. Realize that Cyp propagation is an expensive and time consuming process, thus prices tend to be rather high – in the order of $30-50 per plant for the more common varieties, and much higher for rare species in particular, often starting in the $100 range and higher for the really rare stuff. Fortunately, hybrid plants are being mass produced now, and for the most part are reasonably priced and also easy to grow compared to pure species.

These nurseries are not ranked in an any particular order, nor is this list exhaustive, however all offer healthy, lab produced plants. These are links, so feel free to click them for direct access to their sites. Realize that most nurseries have two shipping seasons – fall and early spring, when the plants are dormant. Most cannot ship internationally. Also, stocks sell out fast, so you need to be ready to order as soon as possible – if you wait, you will have far less selection to choose from.

USA Nurseries

1. Gardens at Post Hill, Morris Connecticut – this business is relatively new and owned and operated by Ron Burch, a good friend. Ron, with his formidable skills in tissue culture turned his talents to Cypripediums in the early 2000s, and so began his nursery. The quality of plant you will receive from him is guaranteed to be great, and his prices are very reasonable. He also has one of the best selections in within the USA, but realize that many are very limited offers, so they sell out fast. Ron is generous with his knowledge and shares it without proprietary interest, but do realize he is a busy man. He often sells plants of his own creation, as well as a line of collaborative hybrids made with our fellow friend and Cyp grower, Paul Perakos. To my knowledge he does not ship internationally.

2. Great Lakes Orchids, Belleville, Michigan – a good friend of Ron’s is Ray Price, another “artist” at propagating temperate orchids. While his is a for profit business, he also is greatly interested in orchid conservation, and has donated time and effort (and plants!) for conservation projects. He carries a number of native Cyps as well as very unusual species including (as of this writing, February 2012) Platanthera blepariglottis, ciliaris, and psychodes, as well as the almost never offered Arethusa bulbosa. It is great to have folks like Ray around!

3. Hillside Nursery, Shelburne Fall, Massachusetts – here’s another great nursery offering a wide range of woodland perennials, all nursery propagated. Again, you will only get quality plants from this nursery and at good prices. They carry a number of Cypripedium species (one of the best places in the US to buy C. kentuckiense) as well as hybrids. Be warned however, they sell out fast, so be sure to submit an update reminder form at their site so you can stay on top of the action. They also offer a number of rare woodland plants from around the world – great stuff. Sorry, no international orders or shipping to Hawaii and Florida, and they don’t take telephone orders.

4. Spangle Creek Labs, Bovey, Minnesota – one of the pioneers of seed propagating Cypripedium species in the USA is Dr. William Steele, but most folks just call him Bill. Back in the 80s he became involved in conservation efforts in Washington State focusing on mass propagating the locally rare C. parviflorum with the hopes of reestablishing wild populations. He also experimented with C. reginae, and before he knew it had thousands of seedlings, and so began Spangle Creek Labs, an actual mom and pop business with Bill doing the propagating and his wife Carol dealing with keeping the business at an even keel (I know which job I’d rather have!). Bill’s conservation ethic runs deep, and as a rule he propagates species only. One thing, they only offer seedling plants, all recently deflasked. They are very healthy, ready to plant, reasonably priced, and with a range of species offered, including rarities like C. candidum, C. californicum, C. guttatum, and C. yatabeanum. Unfortunately, they don’t ship internationally any more.

Cypripediums can now be mass propagated from seed under laboratory conditions. This flask of seedings are C. japonicum grown by Ron Burch.

5. Itasca Ladyslipper Farm, Bovey, Minnesota – owned and operated by Carol Steele’s son Brandon. He grows Spangle Creek’s seedlings onto maturity for sale as flowering size and near flowering size plants. No international shipping.

6. Raising Rarities, Toledo, Ohio – another nursery with its roots in the 90s, founded by Roger Zielinski. They have a generous offering of Cypripedium species and hybrids, rivaling that of Ron Burch, as well as a great range of unusual Bletilla varieties, including ones not seen at other nurseries. The really unusual stuff sells out early, so be sure to check in often. No international shipping at this time.

7. Vermont Ladyslipper Company, New Haven, Vermont – one of the great Cypripedium nurseries established back in the 90s by Scott and Elizabeth Durkee. Scott became famous for growing literally fields of C. reginae, and the difficult C. acaule from seed to amazing flowering plants using the now well known vinegar water method. Their huge greenhouse operation is well known – truly Cypripedium cultivation on a mass scale. International shipping is available for C. reginae only. They usually sell out their stock early, so watch for the opening of sales. Two plant minimum order.

8. Wild Orchid Company, Carversville, Pennsylvania – owned and operated by Dr. Bill Mathis, this nursery offers a great range of hardy orchids, including Cyps, Calanthe, Bletilla (featuring B. striata ‘Big Bob’ – a huge form of this species), and some rarely offered bog orchids: Pogonia ophioglossoides and Calopgon tuberosus (the normal pink variety and very rare alba flower). No international shipping.

9. Arirang Orchids, Mountain View, California – I just found out about these guys. They have C. californicum, a relatively rare plant in cultivation, plus a handful of other terrestrial orchids. Pay by check or money order. Continental USA only.

10. Plant Delights Nursery, Raleigh, North Carolina – founded back in 1988 by Tony and Michelle Avent with the intention of providing US gardeners access to rare and unusual plants from around the world. Tony is a colorful character who has traveled extensively in search of new plants, and has established breeding programs focused on creating novel lines. He also loves to write about plants in his often zany online catalog – he truly is a real plant nut. This nursery offers a bewildering array of unusual plants, including Cypripediums – both species and hybrids. This is one of the few places you can obtain C. japonicum reliably in the US. Some of the Bletilla forms offered are not available anywhere else with country, in fact with the closing of Asiatica Nursery in Pennsylvania, this nursery is the only place you can still get many rare Japanese selections. The world needs more nurseries like this one!

Canadian Nurseries

Healthy Cypripedium rootstock is light colored, not dark brown or black. This is a young division of C. tibeticum, a plant now available from several nurseries in North America.

1. Fraser’s Thimble Farms, Salt Spring Island, British Columbia – owned and operated by Richard and Nancy Fraser, this is probably the best know supplier of hardy orchids in Canada. Their selection is stunning – 12 different Bletilla, 10 Calanthe, 8 Dactylorhiza, 4 Epipactis, 19 Pleione, a smattering of others, and over 70 Cypripedium including species, forms, and hybrids. All one can say is, “wow”. This is a specialty nursery, offering many rare plants including Japanese hepatica, hardy ferns (tree ferns too!), tons of perennials, conifers, bulbs. shrubs, hellebores, you name it. They are the only North American nursery I know of that sells Cypripedium micranthum, a dwarf Chinese species. They accept overseas orders including the US (minimum order of $75). No phone orders.

2. Pacific Rim Native Plant Nursery, Chilliwack, British Columbia – run by the Woodward family, offering an excellent range of rare woodland perennials and bulbs – nice stuff. They also carry a few terrestrial orchids, including C.tibeticum, a difficult species to source, and Habenaria radiata (thanks for the link ladies!). They also have display gardens open by appointment, and nearby is Hillkeep Nature Reserve, donated by the Woodwards to the City of Chilliwack. True conservationists and avid plant growers – a great combination! No international shipping.

3. Planteck, L’Assomption, Quebec – in times past this company had a good selection of terrestrial orchids including rare species of Cypripedium and even Calypso bulbosa. Currently they only offer C. reginae. An excellent source for micropropagated peonies, however they no longer take retail orders.

4. Lost Horizons, Acton, Ontario – this nursery started out as a garden design company, but soon found itself in plant production. You can download their impressive online catalog (pdf format) and drool over the contents – a huge assortment of perennials, ferns, ornamental grasses, and woody plants. They also carry a number of Cypripedium, including C. tibeticum and C. calceolus, plants rarely offered in North America. The only catch is you have to visit them in person since they no longer ship. Hours are 10 AM to 5 PM, Wednesday thru Sunday starting in May and ending in October. They are closed in the winter months.

One other person you may try contacting is Tom Nelson. He legally rescues Cyps from construction sites via permits issued by the state of Minnesota. He has sold C. reginae, C. parviflorum varieties, and C. candidum in the past. In general, buyers have reported being happy with the plants they received, especially since many are very large, with multiple eyes and offered at very reasonable prices. Currently, his contact information is as follows:

Thomas Nelson
Blue Heron Ladyslipper Co.
PO 461
Castle Rock, MN 55010
(507) 301-9643

These are perhaps the best sources for Cyps online today, but things change. I’ll try to keep this list updated. In the not so distant future I will also assemble a list of sources in Europe and Asia, so please be patient.

They didn’t look like much, but I remembered that hillside and quickly bought two bags. Much to my surprise the next spring they flowered a bright, cobalt blue – quite different from the paler flowered plants I saw at the botanical garden. Later I learned that I had bought Ipheion ‘Rolf Fiedler’, the subject of this article.

This dwarf flowering bulb is green in the fall and winter, flowers in the early spring, and goes dormant in the heat of summer. Ipheion bulbs are small, perhaps typically not more than 2 cm long and look very much like a small shallot. This isn’t surprising since this genus is in the onion family (Alliaceae), and when bruised, the leaves and bulbs give off a garlic-like scent. The leaves begin growth once nights start to cool down, around mid fall in my area (zone 9). The 3-5 strap-like leaves never get that long in my experience, so they don’t look weedy or straggly, but rather form nice, tight clumps. The plants spread by thin underground stolons, at the end of which new offsets form. The thin, wiry white roots are typical of an onion relative.

The flower of Ipheion 'Rolf Fiedler' is a bright cobalt blue, and a bit rounder than its near relative Ipheion unifolium.

The flowers of I. ‘Rolf Fiedler’ are its greatest asset. They are born singly off a short flowering stem that stands not more than hand high, at least in my specimens. Unlike I. unifolium, the six petals are quite broad and rounded, oval in shape and have a distinctively darker color – a bright cobalt. There is a select clone of ‘Rolf Fiedler’ called ‘Jessie’ that is said to have the deepest color of all. The 2 cm wide flowers are radially symmetric and at their center the yellow-orange anthers provide a nice compliment to the otherwise blue flower. Blooming starts in April in my area, but in warmer places you may have flowers by mid March, or conversely, in colder climates, May. The flower is held more or less flat, but occasionally the petals can reflex a bit. Flowering is generous in healthy clumps and can last for several weeks.

This plant is native to the low coastal hills of Uruguay in full sun. It is apparently native to only a small area unlike I. unifolium which can also be found in Argentina. There has been a lot of confusion about the naming of this plant – for a time it was considered a form of I. unifolium, but most authorities today feel it is a distinct species, though as yet undescribed. It differs from I. unfolium in a number of ways, most notably the richer flower color, and more rounded flower parts, making it not as star shaped. Recently, many botanists place all Ipheion species to two different genera, with the yellow multi-flowered species put into Nothoscordum, and the blue to white single-flowered ones into Tristagma. So, this plant has an identity crisis, being both an undescribed species while at the same time straddling two separate genera!

The bulbs and leaves of Ipheion 'Rolf Fiedler' look much like small shallots - not surprising since this genus is in the onion family.

Given its limited natural range, and its basically frost free habitat, one might think this plant would be rather tender. Interestingly it has shown itself to withstand at least USDA cold hardiness zone 6, while still being happy in zone 9. To put that in perspective, you can grow I. ‘Rolf Fiedler’ from southern New York state clear down to central Florida. Some say that it is a little less cold tolerant than I. unifolium, but apparently not by much. It has been suggested that their cold tolerance might be extended if drainage is excellent, with soggy soils inviting problems.

In nature it grows in acidic, well drained soils that are evenly moist except in the height of summer when they can be quite dry for a short time. In my garden they get copious rainfall (1600+mm annually), especially during the early summer monsoon, right when they are going fully dormant. Later, in August, the oven turns on with average temperatures approaching 30 C, and for about 2-3 weeks it remains fairly dry. Apparently this is exactly what this plant likes since my original handful of bulbs have multiplied many times over, spreading over nearly a meter square. One fall I noticed that a small group began growing a good 20 cm away from the nearest clump and wondered if they seeded in, or spread by underground stolon. I found the latter to be true. To my knowledge, this species has not seeded in my garden. I will inspect their bed more carefully this year to look for evidence of seeding – a real possibility with Iphieon, which can actually be very weedy in some circumstances.

To summarize growing conditions for this dwarf bulb – plant them shallow in a sharp draining, yet moist, gritty loam or sandy soil with a pH range from moderately acid to slightly basic (~5.5 to 7.5). Plant in full sun for best results, particularly if you live in a cooler climate, but they also can handle light shading. Avoid watering in summer during dormancy. Fertilizer may be added as you see fit, but honestly, any good soil can maintain these plants without amendments. Overly acidic soils should be sweetened with lime, and heavy clay soils lightened with porous materials, but watch out for pure sand. If mixed with heavy clay you can end up making concrete! Honestly though, these really are pretty simple plants to grow and flower, probably the closest thing to a no maintenance flowering bulb.

Ipheion 'Rolf Fiedler' puts on a a lovely display in early spring, and with little effort.

Those living in the mid south should be able to grow this Ipheion with impunity. Even if you live in a slightly colder climate, go ahead and give them a try. They make pretty border plants when mixed with other bulbs, say Muscari or dwarf tulips, or as a mass planting for a subtle, yet impressive show. Ipheion take up so little space, and are so undemanding that it is well worth trying a few – you may just fall in love if you do.

Cypripedium parviflorum v. pubescens (hereafter referred to as v. pubescens) is a large deciduous, perennial, terrestrial orchid most commonly found in moist forests. Depending on where the plant is found growing, its height can vary widely, with flowering specimens standing little more than 12 cm tall and as much as 80 cm, nearly rivaling C. reginae in stature. Growth stems bear between 3-6 pubescent, ovate to ovate-lanceolate leaves, deeply ribbed, with each 6-20 cm long and 2-10 cm wide, and borne alternately off the stem. The vigorous rootstock is like other Cypripedium species with a creeping, branched rhizome bearing numerous, creamy white to amber yellow non-forking roots that can exceed 40 cm in large specimens. In nature this plant can grow a single stem or be large clump numbering 20 or more stems, however plants with 3-5 stems is closer to the norm.

Cypripedium parviflorum v. pubescens is a highly variable plant. While the stature of this specimen is very compact, the flowers are typical for the variety. Grown and flowered by Darcy Gunnlaugson.

Flowers are borne at the top of the stem, usually singly, but occasionally in pairs. As its common name implies, they tend to be rather large with a natural spread up to at least 12 cm in larger flower forms, however the form planipetalum of the far north can be half that size. The dorsal sepal is large and broad, up to 8.5 cm long and half as wide, with a tendency to stand more or less erect, but sometimes overhanging the lip as in C. kentuckiense. It can be twisted at its end much like the petals, or be nearly perfectly flat depending on the plant. The synsepal is a bit smaller, and though it is held just off the lip’s surface, it curves to follow its contour. The petals are long and narrow, and again, depending on the form can vary widely in length, being as short as just 3 cm or as long as 9 cm, but rarely more than 1 cm wide. They tend to be presented at an angle of 45 degrees to the ground, but can hang lower. In most forms they are highly twisted, reminiscent of a spiral ribbon, though this can vary widely from plant to plant with some having extreme twisting and others much less. In the form planipetalum the petals tend to be presented almost at a perfect 90 degrees relative to the ground and have little or no twisting. The lip is large, up to 5 cm long, and tends to be ellipsoidal in shape, however some plants have more rounded lips. The staminode is triangular in shape with rounded corners and is held tightly over the column underneath.

This plant of v. pubescens originates from the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. Its flower is darker in color than the norm with highly twisted petals and dorsal sepal. Grown and photographed by Paul Perakos.

Given its great range in flower form and size, it shouldn’t be surprising that v. pubescens is also variable in flower color. The most consistent colored part is of course the yellow lip, which, regardless of the population sampled seems always to be a deep lemon yellow. Unlike v. parviflorum, it rarely shows any red spotting on the outer surface or around its orifice, but it can have a few red splotches on the inner surface. The petals, dorsal sepal, and synsepal all have a base color of light green that is finely striated with varying amounts of chocolate brown. The degree of striation is what gives this species so much variety – it can be nearly absent in some clones and almost solid in others. The resulting visual impression is either a very pale flower to ones that look more reminiscent of v. parviflorum, so much so that you can confuse the two varieties easily. Some plants of the form planipetalum can have flower parts that are totally green or even with a yellow cast – an unusual look indeed. The staminode is always a lemon yellow color and usually has at least some red spotting on it. The flower’s scent is “floral”, but with no hint of sweetness.

The dwarf growing form of v. pubescens referred to as v. planipetalum has flat petals that stand out almost perfectly lateral from the flower. Grown and photographed by Darcy Gunnlaugson.

Variety pubescens has the largest geographic distribution of any North American Cypripedium with the exception of C. guttatum which grows well into north central Asia. As stated at the onset, it can be found across much of North America, perhaps even as far north as the arctic circle and southward to nearly the Mexican border in the west and Florida in the east. Historically v. pubescens has been found in a wide range of habitats, from calcareous swamps in the northern US and southern Canada, to rich woodlands of the southern Appalachian Mountains, in high altitude coniferous forests in the desert southwest, to treeless limestone barrens in Newfoundland, in remnant tall grass prairies of America’s central states, and on talus slopes in the Rocky Mountains. For this reason, is very hard to generalize about this species’ habitat – suffice it to say it is broad. Perhaps the most novel place it has ever been found was in Bailey County, in the panhandle of Texas. A single plant was found there in 1929 by B.C. Tharp growing in a wet depression between sand dunes. No other plant was ever found in that area, however neighboring populations can yet be seen in the mountains of New Mexico and Arizona – a place where they are literally growing on the edge. Though widely distributed, this variety is in general decline due to any number of factors including collecting pressure, habitat loss or modification, climate change, and herbivory by ungulates, notably white tailed deer and moose. Still, sizable populations exist in parts of western Canada, the Great Lakes Region, and locally throughout the Appalachian Mountains. Monitoring and assessing such a wide ranging species is difficult except in places where it is extremely rare, for example Arizona (status – critically imperiled).

Variety pubescens can also have very pale flowers parts throughout as in this plant. Grown and photographed by Darcy Gunnlaugson.

Cypripedium species in general, and this plant in particular, have been used historically as a folk remedy for ailments ranging from nervous conditions, headaches, fevers, stomach disorders, epileptic fits, insomnia, the DTs, muscle crams and spasms, and even as a hallucinogen if taken in large doses. The typical method of extraction is through boiling the rootstock in water with the resulting infusion taken immediately, though homeopathic alcohol based tinctures are also made, and can be purchased to this day. The calming effect of this herb has given it the name American Valerian. Of course such practices also put wild populations at risk from collection since growing nursery stock is time consuming, expensive, and not an undertaking for the novice gardener. Would be buyers should also be aware that there likely are many bogus products on the market claiming to be Cypripedium extract, while in truth some other cheaply available herb was used in preparation instead. Use your own judgement and ethics in making such purchases.

My first introduction to the large yellow lady slipper was my family’s garden in southern New York when I was just a young boy. Soon after purchasing the one and half acre wooded lot (and house) I grew up in, my father began clearing out the scrubby underbrush that dominated it, and planted a wide array of exotic and native plants. One of his first purchases were three types of “slipper orchid” from a nursery in Vermont – likely C. parviflorum v. pubescens, C. acaule, and C. reginae – three of each. He planted them out directly into the acidic, rocky woods loam native to the area and within a short time only one plant was left – a single growth of v. pubescens. There it grew for the next 18 years, never getting any bigger or smaller, but never missing a year of flowering either. I relished in its beauty each spring and hoped to find it somewhere in the local woods one day. Despite near heroic efforts, my dad and I never located even a single specimen, though we heard tales of them growing here and there all around us. To put this into perspective, this species was once found in Queens County, N.Y.C., and to this day county-level distribution maps for the state still record it as being present. I wish you good luck in your search in finding any there now!

The typical flower of v. pubescens has light brown petals and sepals that are moderately twisted. This plant is from Tennessee. Grown and photographed by Darcy Gunnlaugson.

My next encounter with v. pubescens was in the mountains of the southern Appalachians a decade later. Here I found it growing near wet seeps in deep deciduous woods, on the steep slopes of rich cove forests, as well as on relatively dry ridge lines at fairly high altitudes – up to 1500 meters in places. Plants in this region were highly variable in color – some with very pale flowers and others with such dark and twisted petals I first mistook them as v. parviflorum.

On all my journeys across the Appalachians, from northernmost Georgia clear up to north central Maine, I have never seen a truly massive colony. I do remember one mountaintop in Great Smoky National Park that was covered with a scattered colony that must have numbered into the many hundreds of plants spread out along a two mile long ridge line. The vast colonies of the Great Lakes Region are legend, and in truth, these days most of those populations are probably just that, legends. Like its cousin C. reginae, the fabled colonies of yesteryear are mostly a thing of the past. For a comprehensive report on this variety check out this excellent conservation assessment pdf.

For much of the mid 20th century all C. parviflorum varieties were included under the Eurasian species C. calceolus. Early authors described v. pubescens under a host of names, including C. calceolus (Linnaeus, 1753), C. flavescens (Redoute, 1802), C. pubescens (Willdenow, 1804), C. luteum (Rafinesque,1828), C. assurgens, C. aureum, C. furcatum, C. undatum (all Rafinesque, 1833), C. veganum (Cockerell and Barker, 1901), and C. bulbosum v. flavescens (Willdenow, 1913). Discussion began to brew again in the mid 1980′s and finally by the mid 90s (largely under the work of Sheviak and Atwood) a new picture began to form with v. parviflorum, v. pubescens, and v. makasin (a name resurrected by Sheviak, and still disputed by many, who put it under v. parviflorum) generally being accepted as true varieties of Cypripedium parviflorum, while C. kentuckiense was raised to specific rank. The enigmatic v. planipetalum (Fernald, 1940) is now largely considered an ecotype of v. pubescens and this conclusion has been supported by allozyme studies (Case, 1993).

A clump of v. planipetalum that originated from the Bruce Peninsula in southern Ontario. Grown and flowered by Darcy Gunnlaugson.

This latter plant is a fascinating denizen of limestone barrens in the eastern end of its range in Newfoundland, Quebec, and Ontario, and also at home on treeless talus slopes in the high mountains of the Rockies from Colorado to Alberta. Looking at the plant you cannot help but see that it is dwarf in stature and that the petals are truly held flat or are just slightly twisted (hence the name planipetalum – literally “flat-petaled”). This plant has been recognized as a separate taxon, as a variety of v. pubescens, and most recently merely an extreme ecotype of v. pubescens. Being a plant of extreme environments – cold, windy, and treeless – some have argued that environmental conditions, not genetics, give the plant its distinctive form. Sheviak and others have tested this theory by growing “v. planipetalum” under normal garden conditions and all eventually changed into normal looking plants over a few seasons. Sheviak, to push this point, went a step further. He grew a normal v. pubescens in a growth chamber that approximated the cold, exposed areas that the flat petaled plant lives. In a short time these plants became shorter and their petals less twisted, thus adding proof to his theory.

Having said that, I know of at least two cases where this hasn’t happened. Darcy Gunnlaugson on Vancouver Island has grown planipetalum type plants alongside v. pubescens and the former maintained its dwarf habit for years without “reverting”. I’ve heard similar reports from folks in Germany. So, in the end, who can be sure. Perhaps there really are dwarf genotypes that aren’t just a product of extreme environments. To further support this idea, in a number of places v. pubescens and the form planipetalum are growing very close to each other in nature, for example, on the famous Bruce Peninsula of Lake Huron.

A pale flowered form of the artificial hybrid between C. parviflorum v. pubescens and C. macranthos, C. Aki. This pale flowered form is sold under the name "pastel".

Another form of v. pubescens that is noted from time to time in the literature are fabled “alba” forms, that is, plants with white lips and greenish petals, dorsal sepal and synsepal. Without a doubt these white flowered plants are not pure v. pubescens, but rather the natural hybrid between this plant and C. candidum, C. x favillianum. This is a lovely hybrid, very easy in the garden, with a lip color that starts out creamy yellow and matures into a bright ivory.

Which brings me finally to growing this admirable plant in the garden. The good news is that in most gardens this is the easiest Cypripedium species to keep growing and flowering year after year. The bad news is that it, like all Cyps, is not an easy garden subject – this is no Hosta. That aside, you can grow it in almost any well drained moderately acidic to mildly basic soil (~ pH range 5.0 to 7.5) and under “normal” garden conditions, preferably in light shade. It only requires moist soils that don’t get too droughty. Similarly, it is a plant of wide tolerance with regard to temperature, growing naturally from USDA zone 2 in the far north to zone 8 in the south.

If you want to grow this plant optimally however, I recommend a near neutral compost made up of mostly inorganic, gritty substrate – pumice, perlite or the like mixed with just a bit of organic material. As with C. reginae, this plant responds well to totally inorganic substrate rather than true soils, whether they be loamy or high in humus. The key is soil structure, open and airy being far better than tight soils with little air movement. That plant my father grew in New York for two decades was finally moved and put into a more airy mix and within a season had increased from one to three stems. Also, remember this is a plant of forests usually, so it benefits from high shade conditions, not full sun. In general, the more sun you give this plant, the more dwarf its habit. I remember plants growing at an arboretum that were under a canopy of deciduous trees until a storm knocked many down. The plants grew and flowered nicely the next spring, but since they were now in full midday sun, they only stood about hand high – certainly a novel appearance, but ultimately too stressful, especially in warmer summer areas. Clonal variation is high with this variety, but generally most will be best suited for USDA cold hardiness zones 3-6, with zones 2 and 8 being the extreme limits of their temperature tolerance.

Large clumps of v. pubescens put on a great show, but have to be carefully maintained. Grown and photographed by Darcy Gunnlaugson.

If happy this plant can put on many stems over time – clumps of 20 or more stems flowering all at once are not unknown and quite a spectacle. Care needs to be taken of such large clumps however. Over time they tend to lose vigor, especially at the center of the clump, so if you see them flower less or get smaller, then dig the plant up in the fall and inspect the roots. If they seem healthy, you can replant the whole clump as is, but put it into new, fresh compost. To maintain large clumps it is likely you will have to replant them every several years, watching them closely. Of course large clumps can also be divided (again, in the fall after the leaves go down) and planted out separately. This actually revitalizes them provided divisions have adequate roots and rhizome. A division with 2-4 eyes and ample roots is an ideal size to grow on.

I have managed to grow this plant in southern Japan in an equivalent USDA zone 9, but just barely. It isn’t something I’d recommend, but if you are up for the challenge, give it a go. For more on my efforts, check out this article on growing Cyps in a hot climate. Be prepared for failures however.

Here’s another lovely Cyp to grow in the open garden, perhaps the best of all Cyripedium species. Luckily, many artificial hybrids now exist with this variety as one parent, including the large flowered C. Aki (v. pubescens x macranthos). So far it seems pretty easy in the garden and has good hybrid vigor. Again, avoid taking plants from the wild unless they are threatened with destruction. This plant is readily available from many vendors of rare woodland plants – yes, at a higher price, but you can rest better at night realizing you aren’t harming natural populations.

Cypripedium reginae is one of the biggest of the cold growing Cyps, standing nearly up to a meter tall. These plants were grown and photographed by Darcy Gunnlaugson.

Cypripedium reginae is a large herbaceous, deciduous, perennial, terrestrial orchid of wet habitats. The thick, thumb sized growth buds poke up a bit later than most other species of Cypripedium, and over a month’s time can grow into plants approaching a meter tall. It’s stem typically is a bit shorter, between 40-75 cm on average, and supports between 3-7 highly pubescent leaves. The leaves are borne alternately off the stem, are somewhat elongated, yet generally ovate, and deeply ribbed. The stem and leaves are highly hairy and can cause allergic contact dermatitis if handled. The rootstock consists of a branching, thick rhizome with many cream to white colored roots that can grow over 70 cm in length. When happy this species can form clumps over 50 flowering stems, something that is almost hard to imagine.

Flowers are borne at the apex of the growth stem, as many 3 per stem (rarely 4), and each is accompanied by a floral bract. The flowers are, like the rest of the plant, large in size with a natural spread up to 10 cm from petal tip to tip. The dorsal sepal is broad and stands more or less erect, growing up to 5 cm long and ovate with a rounded tip. The synsepal has a similar shape, and is perhaps a bit smaller in size. The petals are elongate and fairly narrow, growing up to 4.5 cm long and under 2 cm wide. They are held flat (sometimes slightly recurved) and nearly parallel to the ground. The lip is round, though somewhat elongated, like an egg. It’s orifice can vary from being quite wide to small . The staminode is broad and like the dorsal sepal is ovate, fully covering the column.

The thing that makes this flower so singular are its colors – truly those of a queen. The dorsal sepal, petals, and synsepal are absolutely pure white, and I do mean pure white. The lip has a white base color and is suffused with purple-pink – sometimes as a light blush, sometimes so thick that it seems entirely deep purple, but often this flushing is in parallel lines creating an alternating purple and white striped pattern. The staminode as well is pure white and typically has yellow blushing on its lower half accompanied by purple-pink blotches and spots. Pure alba forms exist as well. Flowering commences in mid June and can extend into July in the far north of its range. Interestingly, flower color can vary widely from year to year and this appears to be dependent on ambient temperatures with cooler conditions producing richer casts.

The flowers of Cypripedium reginae sometimes have very darkly pigmented lips such as this plant. Grown and photographed by Darcy Gunnlaugson.

The showy lady’s slipper once inhabited much of northeastern North America, extending from the boreal forests of the southern Canadian Shield to the Great Lakes and beyond, throughout the cold temperate regions of the east coast, and down the Appalachian Mountain chain nearly to its southern terminus. In more recent times it has been recorded in Canada from the extreme southeastern corner of Saskatchewan, extreme southern Manitoba, southern and central Ontario, southern Quebec, New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, Miquelon Island, and almost all of Newfoundland. In the US it has been recorded historically from virtually all of New England (except Rhode Island) and westward to eastern North Dakota, south to Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, West Virginia, Maryland, northern Virginia, and northwestern New Jersey. Sporadic populations also existed along the Appalachians from southern Virginia, to Tennessee, and into North Carolina, as well as on the Cumberland Plateau of Kentucky. An odd, disjunct population also occurred in the region of the Ozark Mountains in south central Missouri and extreme northern Arkansas. Correll (1950) cited a possible collection in northern Alabama around the Huntsville area, but to my knowledge that has never been confirmed. The same author reported this species from western China based on herbarium specimens, but clearly he confused it with the related species C. flavum.

Typical colored flowers have stronger flushing of pink near the lip orifice bleeding into a near peppermint striped pattern down to the base of the lip. This plant was grown and photographed by Ron Burch.

Sadly, many populations have undergone severe range restriction, especially in areas of extreme human activity (for example the southern Great Lakes region and metropolitan areas on the eastern seaboard), and also across much of the southern end of its range. The status of the plant today in the US is as follows, by ranking and state:

Probably Extirpated: Kentucky, Maryland, and North Carolina.

Critically Imperiled: Arkansas, Connecticut, Illinois, New Hampshire, New Jersey, Tennessee, Virginia, and West Virginia.

Imperiled: Iowa, Missouri, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and North Dakota.

Vulnerable: Indiana, Maine, Massachusetts, New York, Vermont, and Wisconsin.

Unranked/Under review: Michigan and Minnesota

In Canada it is critically imperiled in Saskatchewan; imperiled in New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island, and Newfoundland; and vulnerable in Manitoba and Quebec. Only in Ontario is the species considered “apparently secure” – the only place in the entire range of this species that its status is known to be safe.

Clearly, C. reginae is in trouble in the wild. Southern populations exist only as remnants and are subject to extirpation within the next few decades. As a sample case, consider that before 1980 this species was found in 11 counties in the state of Pennsylvania extending from the shores of Lake Erie diagonally across the state through the central ridges down to the Maryland border. One population even existed in the Leigh Valley in Northampton County, adjacent to New Jersey. After 1980 populations diminished down to just four counties – Crawford, Erie, and Lawrence (all in the extreme northwest corner of the state), and Cumberland in the south central area near the Maryland border.

The pure white flowered variety album is found sparingly throughout its range. This one was grown and photographed by Darcy Gunnlaugson.

The same pattern applies to much of its range in Connecticut, New Jersey, North Dakota, and even large sections of Massachusetts where it was once quite common. Two states that still harbor large populations are Michigan and Minnesota, but neither state has been ranked recently to my knowledge, no doubt due to rapidly changing conditions on the ground.

This is a plant of wetlands, in particular on the edge of calcareous fens, and in open swamplands where red maple (Acer rubrum), black ash (Fraxinus nigra), larch (Larix laricina), arborvitae (Thuja occidentalis), and balsam fir (Abies balsamea) often are the dominant tree species. In places sphagnum moss species can be seen growing luxuriantly, implying an acidic substrate, but in truth the mucky soils of such swamps are often neutral or basic in reaction. In the more open, sunny places C. reginae can form extensive colonies covering large areas, but excessive shading leads to their eventual diminishment.

Plants in the south can be found in more novel habitats for the species. In Missouri they seem to colonize wooded slopes with limestone outcrops while it is said that in North Carolina you could find them in open deciduous forests “between ridge lines” – implying a valley bottom or at least a saddle between ridges. Plants in such conditions represent glacial relic populations, not the norm.

The false hellebore, Veratrum viride, in early leaf looks remarkably similar to the showy lady’s slipper with the exception that the leaves tend to be borne in a spiral pattern as opposed to the alternating pattern of the orchid. I remember vividly coming across a huge population of false hellebore on a middle school trip and thought I hit the jackpot – hundreds of C. reginae! Returning home I eagerly told my dad the news. He was surprised and then asked if I’d seen any flowers. I said no and he replied that he doubted they were in fact C. reginae, but rather the look alike hellebore. We made the one hour drive north to the location a week later and indeed confirmed my mistake without question – the plants were all in bloom with tall spikes of tiny green flowers. Sometimes dreams die hard.

Some have noted that the lip orifice in variety album seems to be rounder and perhaps wider than in normal flowers, implying a genetic difference beyond just flower color. Some postulated alba flowered plants might represent triploids, but molecular testing has shown them to be the normal 2N. This plant was grown and photographed by Paul Perakos.

A few odd facts about this plant before moving onto its culture. First, it contains a phenanthrenequinone known as cypripedin that can cause allergic contact dermatitis in sensitive people. Oddly enough, it is this same chemical that has made several Cyps a folk remedy for a number of illnesses. This class of chemical has shown antimicrobial and cytostatic properties, as well as the allergic response. If you are given to rashes I would be careful handling the plant’s leaves, though I would not consider this to be a risky plant to have in your garden since its toxicity is low.

Second, this species was first described under its present name in 1788 by Thomas Walter in his comprehensive manuscript “Flora Caroliniana” from a collection he made in the mountains of western North Carolina. This is pretty odd given the rarity of the species even in those days in the southern mountains – one would have expected the type material to have been found from the north where it was abundant at that time. In fact it only has ever been recorded from two counties in the high mountains of southwestern North Carolina – Macon and Jackson. To my knowledge plants in that area have passed into legend decades ago. To add to the intrigue, Walter died just one year after his botanical treatise was published, in 1789, at the age of just 49.

Third, when hybridized with other Cypripedium species, the characteristics of the offspring are often dominated by C. reginae. For example, when crossed with the Chinese species C. lichiangense somewhere around 80% of the resulting plants have flowers nearly identical to C. reginae and the plants themselves are very similar. The other 20% will have an intermediate appearance, a very striking plant with flowers approximately halfway between the parent’s, and indeed the plants themselves are an odd blend. They are much shorter in stature than C. reginae and also have mildly spotted leaves like the parent C. lichiangense. This dominance pattern seems to be especially true if the seed parent is C. reginae – so when making crosses it is advised that it be the pollen parent. There has been considerable discussion about C. reginae crosses and why this species seems to dominant. Opinions range from people saying look alike “hybrids” are the result of flowers that have been pollinated by bees and so are in fact the pure species, or perhaps an unusual form of asexual reproduction has taken place known as apomixis. Others maintain characteristics of C. reginae just dominate in its hybrids.

The artificial hybrid C. Princess has characteristics roughly halfway between those of its parents, C. reginae and C. lichiangense. Oddly, nearly 80% of offspring do not have this form, but look nearly identical to C. reginae. Grown and photographed by Ron Burch.

Despite being a rarity in the wild these days, this plant offers no problem in the garden if it is in the proper climate and certain steps are taken to keep it happy. First and foremost, this is a plant of cool to cold temperate regions. If you attempt to grow it in areas with high summer temperatures and mild winters you are probably going to be disappointed in the end. In the eastern USA this plant seems at home in USDA cold hardiness zones 6 and lower, but unsuitable for anything higher. Numerous reports have come out that C. reginae is a non-starter in zone 7 in this region. I’m not saying you can’t succeed, but the chance of failure is high. In climates with cool summers you can grow this one even in zone 8, for example the coastal areas of the Pacific Northwest or southern England. I would say it is ideally grown in zones 3-5.

This is a forgiving species with regard to soil thankfully. Any good garden soil that is not too acidic or too loamy will suffice. Like other Cyps, in culture it likes an airy substrate that remains continuously moist, not wet. While it is true that in nature this is a species of wet, even mucky soils, I highly recommend you don’t attempt to grow it that way in culture. Much has been written about making “Holman type” bog gardens for this species and Cyps in general, and indeed people have been successful in growing them that way, yet I would not recommend it. The problem is that wet soils can break down and spoil within just a few growing seasons and cause problems in the long run.

Instead choose any good gritty material such as perlite, fine pumice, silica sand, or name brand products like Turface, Soil Perfector, etc. and if you want, add some organic material to it. Some people have reported that coir (chunks of coconut husk) added to the mix helps in overly moist conditions to loosen the compost. Ron Burch grows his plants in totally inorganic compost and has found plants respond much better than those grown in true soils or soils high in organic components. Still, under normal garden conditions, this species is highly tolerant of many soils. Aim for a pH near neutral with good soil structure and even moisture, and you are likely to succeed.

One thing, this plant requires some sun during the day, preferably morning or late afternoon, though the former is better. Overhead, midday sun is not a good idea since this will stress the plants. Shoot for full sun from early morning to about 11 AM and then bright shade the rest of the day. High shade or a north facing wall with no tree cover work very well too for his plant. Plants grown in too much shade will become spindly, stop flowering, and slowly diminish.

This large clump of Cypripedium reginae v. album is a testiment to the vigor of this species in the garden. Grown and photographed by Ron Burch.

A well grown garden specimen can be an incredible thing, having 50 or more flowering stems with 1-3 flowers per stem… you do the math! There are reported specimens with a hundred plus flowering stems. I don’t think I can even imagine the visual impact of such a plant.

Happily, this species is easily grown from seed these days and has been distributed across the globe in gardens from the USA and Canada, thru Europe, to Japan, and possibly even Australia. Much thanks has to be given to early experimenters – in particular Carson Whitlow and Bill Steele in America, and Werner Frosch in Germany. It is one of the more affordable Cyps on the market, with flowering size divisions available for as little as $25US. Not so here in Japan, where a single growth can fetch $80US or more. Even the alba variety has become fairly available worldwide.

A true queen among a genus of exotic and unusual flowers, Cypripedium reginae is among the choicest species even to this day. Not to beat a dead horse, but if you see them in the wild, appreciate them, photograph them, but leave them be. There is no excuse to collect wild plants unless they are subject to imminent destruction. Instead, buy them from one of the many reputable vendors who produce and/or sell artificial stock.

Cypripedium acaule is an herbaceous perennial terrestrial orchid of bright woods. The two broad apple green, deeply ribbed leaves are born essentially opposite each other on a very short stem, giving them the impression of springing directly out of the ground. Plant size can vary widely with some adult specimens having leaves scarcely more 8 cm long each, and perhaps half as wide, while vigorous ones can have leaves up to 30 cm long and again, about half as wide. They grow from a short, underground, creeping rhizome that also bears many white, unbranched, and fleshy roots typical of other members of the genus.

The lovely pure white flower of Cypripedium acaule v. alba growing in its native pine woods of northern Connecticut. Photo by Ron Burch.

In fertile plants a flower stem rises from between the two leaves to a height of 15-45 cm. At its terminus is a floral bract, quite reduced in size and narrow, but otherwise similar in appearance to the leaves, cradling a single flower (double flowers are very unusual). The entire plant, and indeed the flower itself, is highly pubescent. Like the leaves, the flower can vary in size a great deal. I’ve seen flowers with a natural spread of little more than 6 cm and others double that size, though they usually are somewhere between those extremes.

The flower would be rather subdued if it weren’t for its lovely pink lip. The dorsal sepal is the largest flower part other than the lip, growing up to 5 cm long and 2 cm wide, and over arches the lip. The synsepal is a about the same size or just a bit smaller, and unlike other species of the genus, is held away from the back of the lip. The petals are long and narrow with just a sight twist, are held more or less at a 45 degree angle to the ground, and are between 3-6 cm long. Like the rest of the flower, they are covered in fine hairs, however these can be rather long near their point of attachment to the ovary. The dorsal sepal, synsepal, and petals all share a similar color pattern – a base color of green and suffused with varying amounts of brownish purple. Typically the petals are a shade darker than the the dorsal sepal and synsepal. The staminode is a bit brighter, but otherwise similar in color.

Luckily, the lip saves the day and in the end steals the show. Looking at it, you can see why the plant got the name moccasin flower since the bilaterally split and inflated lip truly does have a moccasin shoe shape. This lip design is unique in the genus with only C. japonicum and C. formosanum looking remotely similar, and yet neither of those species possesses the vertical cleft of C. acaule. After seeing the plant for the first time, a friend of mine dubbed it “the pink testicle plant” – a humorous, yet disturbing name that I try to dissuade him from using since it messes with my sensibilities! The lip’s base color is pure white, and yet is so suffused with pink flushing and purple-pink striations that the overall effect is a pink to raspberry pink color. Again, variation is wide – some flowers are just a very pale pink, while others have a much deeper cast. The front of the flower near the cleft is often quite white and deeply striated with purple-pink. Very occasionally, a true alba flowered form can be seen with a pure white lip and green sepals and petals.

The moccasin flower is at home over much of the temperate and boreal forest regions of eastern North America, being found from the Canadian provinces of Newfoundland, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, southern Quebec, southern Ontario, south-central Manitoba, northern Saskatchewan, to the extreme northeast corner of Alberta, and in the US from northeast Minnesota across the northern tier to Maine, and southward to the northernmost parts of Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio. Along the eastern seaboard it is found throughout all of New England, New York, and the mid-Atlantic states, as well as the Appalachian Mountains southward to the northeast corner of Alabama, northern Georgia, and northwestern South Carolina. It can also be found on the coastal plain and piedmont of Delaware, Virginia, and North Carolina with extreme outlying populations in South Carolina (Richland, Lexington, and Georgetown Counties).

Occasionally very deep colored flowers can be seen - they stand out in a colony from a great distance. Photo by Ron Burch.

Given the broad range of this species, it is a home to a wide range of habitats and climates. In the north it can be found on the edge of quaking bogs or growing under coniferous forest in deep pine duff, while in the south it is often seen in broadleaf, deciduous forest in association with mountain laurel (Kalmia latifolia) and other ericaceous shrubs. It is likewise at home in open oak forests of the piedmont, or pitch pine forests (Pinus rigida) of the pine barrens of New Jersey and Long Island. It is found from near sea level to almost 2000 meters elevation – truly a plant capable of handling great temperature and moisture variance.

The one thing it requires above all is a fairly nutrient poor, and very acid substrate. Everywhere this plant naturally exists has a soil pH of no more than 4.5, or lower. The reason is simplicity itself – at higher pH values the rootstock is overwhelmed by fungal attack. All terrestrial orchids start out life as symbionts with mycorrhizal fungi, but C. acaule seems to have taken this relationship into adulthood – loss of the symbiont fungi leads to the orchid being in jeopardy as well. It has been suggested that at higher pH (5.0 and higher), that the symbionts themselves may in fact kill the orchid. Regardless of how and why, this plant cannot live in soils that exceed the pH threshold of 4.5. We will see later on the importance of this fact for those desiring to grow this species.

As I said in the introduction, this is the first wild terrestrial orchid I can ever remember seeing. It grew sporadically throughout the woodlands around my home in the lower Hudson River Valley in Westchester County, New York. Usually you would come upon a few dozen plants in a bright woodland, or perhaps under some hemlocks. Once in a while you’d find more extensive colonies covering many acres, yet still growing scattered throughout the woods. One day though a friend who knew little about plants told us of an abandoned granite mine just a few miles from our house that was supposed to be full of the pink lady’s slipper. For years my father and I had canvased the local woods intensely and had a pretty good idea of what grew within a 10 mile radius of our home, so we were a bit skeptical. If memory serves, our friend gave them a funny name as well – something like pink shoe flower – adding to our disbelief. Still, one May morning he lead us to the mine, located on the side of a moderately steep hill. At the bottom we found a large, spread-out colony of C. acaule - fairly impressive, yet typical of the area. I remember my dad and I looking at each other knowingly – another false alarm. Little did we know what awaited us however, at the top of the hill, in and around the old mine proper.

Cypripedium acaule has been successfully grow in flask. These lab grown seedlings were produced by Ron Burch and are growing on his property in northern Connecticut. Photo by Ron Burch.

The walk up was strenuous and our friend, a very large man, was feeling faint to the point of passing out by the time we got to the top. He sat on one of the giant slabs of granite that had been left from the mining operations that had ceased some 30 years earlier. He told us to go on without him, he needed a rest. The mine was a deep hole, yet open on one side such that it was now fully forested with black birch and maple trees rather than being filled with water. All around were massive piles of old tailings and huge slabs of granite thrown here and there. These too were festooned with young forest – primarily birch species (Betula lenta, B. populifolia, and B. alleghaniensis), but also oaks (Quercus), hickories (Carya), and other deciduous hardwoods common to the area. What wasn’t common was what was growing under them on the open ground – literally thousands of C. acaule – a few single plants, but more commonly large clumps of 5-15 stems each. In one area we counted 83 stems in just a square meter of ground!

We were besides ourselves with joy, but after just a few minutes we realized we needed to get back and make sure our friend was OK. As fate would have it, he was resting comfortably in the shade just as we had left him. We woke him and made the 2 mile journey back to the car. We didn’t mind leaving quickly since my dad and I both realized we’d be back the next day to make a full survey of the area. I don’t think our friend ever attempted to go back to that place – we of course thanked him over and over again for the tip.

A survey of the area made us realize the magnitude of the population. Apparently the tailing piles, some up to 20 meters deep, were the ideal place for C. acaule to establish. The surrounding wooded slopes had sizable populations of the orchid, but nothing like the concentration in the mine area itself. The soil was composed entirely of tree humus mixed with granite grit and stone, containing no loam at all. It was extremely well aerated and no doubt highly acidic. We knew that the mine had been abandoned just 25-30 years earlier, and were amazed at how quickly the forest and orchids had colonized the place. So much for the idea that orchids are only found in old growth, established forest! The following spring we found out about another mine just a couple miles away that had an even bigger population. Luckily, the first site has been protected and now is a nature preserve while the other remains in private hands.

This brings me to my original hypothesis that C. acaule may in fact be more numerous today than in the past. The reason is simple – this species is a colonizer of disturbed sites where forests are recently regenerating. I’ve seen places where it grows in mature forest, sometimes quite vigorously, but no population in such forest has been as vigorous as the ones I’d seen at those mines. Since much of the forest of the northeastern US has been cut down over the years and regenerated, it is likely that this species has followed that process, with colonies waxing and waning with the maturing of the forest. This plant flourishes in the bright, young woods of a recovering secondary growth forest, but tends to languish as the trees get bigger. I have not had the opportunity to revisit either mine site in over 30 years unfortunately, but I’d wager the areas that were once flush with plants are now much more thinly populated. Likewise, as the secondary forests of the northeastern US mature, this plant will have to make do with less attractive habitat. Such is my theory.

Typical flowers of Cypripedium acaule. The plant of the left was grown and photographed by Darcy Gunnlaugson.

A bit about growing this plant. First of all, despite what some people will tell you, this is not an easy species to maintain in the long run. The utmost important criteria that must be followed absolutely is maintaining an acidic growing medium. If you live in a place with naturally acidic soils, you can consider growing plants in well drained beds in the garden in a lightly shaded area. If your soils are above the aforementioned pH threshold of 4.5, you will need to keep the plants in a more protected growing space – one that doesn’t allow mixing of the native earth with the plant’s growing medium. The easiest choice is an oversized pot, plastic flat, or similar container. The plants should be maintained in a well aerated, yet continuously moist compost, so any growing space must be well drained.

In terms of what to grow them in – I recommend a nearly inorganic mix of mostly silica sand (watch out for “play sand” as some of it comes from sources that are neutral in reaction), any non-reactive gritty material – fine pumice, perlite, or the like, with perhaps a “taste” of acidic organic material – slightly composted conifer needles or black humus from under birch trees being two possible choices. A mix of sphagnum peat and perlite might work well in pots, but avoid it in beds since the perlite tends to float to the surface and the peat breaks down rapidly, creating a sticky, poorly aerated muck. If planting into an area that has native populations nearby you can be less fussy about the substrate, though I’d be careful about planting near house foundations or the like since concrete structures and the after effects of building them can raise the local pH considerably. Before planting I’d always test the soil beforehand just to get a baseline measurement.

So, how to keep the pH low? It is well known that poorly buffered substrates such as the ones C. acaule lives in are easily subject to pH variance, and most typically towards neutral conditions. That is because the organic acids responsible for the low pH are easily leached out of the compost via precipitation, and in the garden situation that can be accelerated through watering. In nature low pH is maintained by the continuous addition of leaves and needles of trees – they decompose and give off acid on a near continuous basis. Adding partially decomposed humus from appropriate tree species (conifer duff, birch and oak leaves all being ideal choices) on at least a yearly basis may help keep the pH down. A far more reliable answer is the application of acid during watering. A method that seems to work well is diluting 10-15 ml of vinegar per liter of water (or about 1-2 tablespoons of vinegar/gallon) and using this on a continuous basis, that is, every time you water. If the plants are subject to intense rains, you may want to water more with the vinegar solution. Really, it cannot be over emphasized that the growing medium needs to stay acidic.

This brings us to the issue of what water to use. Purists will say that you should only use distilled, RO (reverse osmosis), or natural rain water since they are low in minerals. I would say that watering once in a while with tap water is OK, especially in an outdoor bed, but you have to know what your water is like beforehand. Many subsurface waters, especially well water, are high in minerals and really should not be used on this species. Some shallow wells are OK, but again, you need to test the water before using it. One positive note is that once established plants in the ground will need essentially no supplementary watering except in extreme drought conditions. Of course potted specimens must not be allowed to dry out ever. One thing, if you do use tap water be sure that it is free of chlorine since this is highly toxic to the plant’s roots. Allowing water to sit out for at least a day releases most of the chlorine, but of course will not alter its mineral content or pH value.

A clump of cultivated Cypripedium acaule in the garden. These are growing in a raised bed of sand, pumice, and conifer needles.

If the plants show any sign of loss of vigor, they should be replanted into fresh medium, preferably after going dormant in the fall. This species has been successfully grown in flask, that is, in laboratories, and even grown on to adult size by expert growers of Cyps. Such seedlings are not for the novice gardener however. Laboratory grown plants are rare on the market, especially in the US, since wild collected material is abundant and cheap to procure. Unfortunately, such plants are more often than not poorly collected and subject to fungal infection and eventual death even if grown under proper conditions. That of course begs the question of where to acquire healthy stock – a tricky question indeed. It must be realized lab produced plants will also not be cheap, whereas “bargain priced” wild collected stock can be purchased almost on demand via internet auctions. In my opinion, if you decide the internet way, you are likely throwing your money into the wind, and guaranteeing the death of more plants. Today, C. acaule is widespread and fairly common, but other species have been lost to over collection before (especially when coupled with habitat loss). So the decision is yours to make.

Thankfully, this species is very adaptable to a wide range of temperatures, growing in nature from USDA cold hardiness zones 8a clear down to 2a! Of course plants acquired from different parts of its range will probably be best adapted to a particular climate, so you should have an idea of where the original plants were sourced. Overall, I’d say this species grows optimally from zones 6 thru 4. Clearly though, temperature is your least concern for growing this beauty.

For all the above stated reasons, this iconic slipper orchid will likely remain a plant of connoisseur gardeners, and even they will have trouble from time to time. Another option is to buy new stock each fall to ensure flowers for the next spring (wild collected plants almost always flower the first season, and rarely the next), but such a choice is ethically questionable. To this day, despite advances in flasking seed and even micropropagation of Cyps, wild populations remain under threat of the spade. Still, for the time being, this lovely flower is secure, and will likely grace the woods of eastern North America for generations to come.

All three are a common sight in my area, just on the outskirts of Fukuoka City, on the island of Kyushu. By far the most often seen is P. multifida since it is a veritable weed in these parts, growing out of just about any crack in a wall – natural rock or concrete. It is also the smallest in stature of the three. The other two are closely related, to the point that one needs to look at them carefully to see the differences. Never are any of them very far from rocks, or seeps of water, and yet they are neither bog plants, nor true lithophytes. I’ll tackle them one by one, starting with the weedy species, P. multifida.

Pteris multifida is perhaps the most common and widespread of the brake ferns in Japan.

P. multifida is an evergreen, clumping fern commonly seen growing in cracks in rocks, rock walls, and also disturbed soil. Its fronds are of two types, spore bearing and sterile. Their overall shape is similar except that the spore bearing fronds are perhaps twice the size of the sterile ones and all parts are much more narrow and elongated. This fern is once pinnate, with pairs of simple pinnae extending off the main stem, or rachis. The pairs of pinnae usually number between 4 or 5 per frond with the base pair being the shortest, and subsequent pairs being longer, and again becoming shorter toward the end. The terminal pinna is typically very long and singular – a trait common to many Pteris species. Each pinna is rarely more than one cm wide. The base of the stem (also known as the stipe) as well as the rachis are smooth, scale-less, and brown in color.

An interesting feature of this species is a wing-like structure growing along the length of the rachis between the pairs of pinnae. Close examination shows these wings to in fact be extensions of the uppermost pinnae growing clear down the rachis to the next pair and terminating there. The pinnae are presented in a flat plane in some individuals while they can be very wavy in others. The margins of the pinnae are roughly toothed, but not lobed. Sterile fronds grow between 12-30 cm in length, while fertile ones can be half again that length. Typically these are small ferns though, with a total height of not more than 20 cm on average. The fertile fronds tend to grow more vertically, while the sterile ones essentially hang parallel to the ground. Both frond types usually are a pale green color and slightly shiny.

The lovely variegated Pteris cretica 'albolineata' has been mass produced and marketed across the world. It is commonly called the silver ribbon fern.

Both Pteris cretica and P. nipponica have a similar overall habit to P. multifida, with the big differences being their larger size, wider pinnae (2 to 3 cm on average), and a lack of wings along the rachis. Typically these ferns have sterile fronds 30-40 cm in length and fertile ones up to 60 cm or more. Vigorous specimens can be even larger. As with P. multifida, their sterile fronds are more gracile in habit, yet with all parts more elongate, and growing more erect.

Spores are born on the outermost margins of the fertile fronds. They are actually naked, that is they have no covering (a membrane called the indusium) during their development. In place of indusia are the pinnae margins themselves, which literally roll over the spore as they develop and later open up to release the mature spores – this type of arrangement is called “false indusia” – another trait common to all Pteris species.

So, how to tell them apart? In general P. cretica has pinnae presented nearly flat, the pinnae margins are just lightly toothed, the fronds are not shiny, and the overall frond color is a light green to almost lemony green in newer fronds. P. nipponica on the other hand usually has pinnae with very wavy margins, the pinnae margins are also more strongly toothed, the fronds are shiny, and the frond color tends to be a darker, almost blue green. I’ve noticed also that P. nipponica fronds tend to show a lightening in color on all pinnae along the main vein, so much so that in some specimens they are bordering on being mildly variegated.

The spores of all Pteris are born on the outer margins of the pinnae and are naked, that is, they have no indusia covering them during their development.

Still, it is often difficult to tell them apart in the field. The true separation can be made by looking at the terminal pinnae pair and the terminal pinna itself. In P. cretica all three pinnae almost fuse at their attachment to the rachis, while in P. nipponica there always is bare rachis between the three. Additionally, the terminal pair of pinnae in P. cretica have an almost wing-like extension, reminiscent of P. multifida, but much less developed. Taking all these features into account, one can separate these species in the field.

All three of these brake ferns can be found from north central Honshu and southwards to Okinawa. Of the three, P. multifida is the most common and grows well into the Touhoku region of northern Honshu. P. cretica makes it almost that far north, but is more rare in central Honshu, becoming common southward. P. nipponica is even more rare in the north, barely straying north of the Kanto area (near Tokyo), and yet is frequently seen in Shikoku and Kyushu.

Outside of Japan, P. multifida is widely distributed in southeast Asia clear to Indochina. P. cretica too is widely distributed and has become an escape over much of the subtropics and tropics the world over. P. nipponica is more restricted, being found in the southernmost reaches of the Korean Peninsula, and Taiwan. P. multifida as well has become naturalized outside its range, for instance, the southeastern USA and even on Long Island, New York.

All three ferns seem to like vertical habitats, either on actual rock walls, or on steep slopes. With that generalization in mind, P. multifida tends to grow on drier sites, often in cracks in rock walls, cement structures, and relatively dry rocky slopes. It is a common weed of the city, coming up as volunteers in yards, or on rough rock walls, etc. P. cretica seems the most water loving from my observations, being often found growing on the verge of trickling seeps on rocky hillsides, or near water courses. P. nipponica likes a similar moist habitat, but usually is found near or on rock walls (in cracks) or on moist rocky slopes, but not in wet places.

A little bit about their common names. P. nipponica does not have a name in English, but P. cretica has been commonly known as “ribbon fern” due, no doubt, to the ruffled, ribbon-like quality of its pinnae. P. multifida is sometimes called “spider brake” or “spider fern”, due to its thin pinnae spanning out in all directions from its crown, presumably looking like a big spider. The word brake is from Middle English and appears to be related to the word bracken, both words simply meaning “fern”.

From left to right: Pteris nipponica, Pteris cretica, and Pteris multifida showing their respective differences in pinnae morphology.

Their Japanese names are perhaps more interesting. P. mulifida is called inomotosou, roughly translated as “the herb that grows under the well”, since in the days when rock water wells were more common, you’d often see this plant growing where the water dripped below the spout. The name for P. cretica is oobainomotosou, simply meaning “big leafed herb that grows under the well” due to its similar appearance to P. multifida while being a larger plant. P. nipponica has an enigmatic name, matsuzakashida, which is obscure in meaning. Matsuzaka is a fairly common surname in Japan, who’s Kanji characters roughly translate to “pine slope” or “pine hillside”, however the Kanji for this fern’s name have apparently been lost to time. Shida simply means “fern”.

To see these species in the field, and how to differentiate them, check out this video. In it you will also see the three other common Pteris species in the Fukuoka area: P. dispar, P. excelsa, and P. wallichiana:

P. cretica and P. multifida have both become locally exotic weeds. In Florida I remember seeing Pteris cretica growing in old lime rock quarries. Apparently it is also common in Mexico and Guatemala, but more rare, yet widespread, in the rest of Latin America. Its Latin epithet, cretica, means “of Crete”, so it is sometimes called the Cretan brake fern, which is odd indeed. The truth is, no one is sure of this plant’s original distribution, though I tend to think it is from east Asia. P. cretica is of importance horticulturally with many varieties that have been isolated and mass propagated. The more commonly seen ones include ‘albolineata’ (a variegated form also known as “silver ribbon fern”), ‘mayii’ (variegated with crested pinnae), and ‘rowerii’ (another crested form). There are many more. Variegated forms of P. nipponica can even be seen in the wild, though I haven’t been fortunate enough to find one yet. From pictures I’ve seen, they are even nicer than variegated forms of P. cretica.

The ribbon fern, Pteris cretica, in its native habitat, Fukuoka Prefecture, Kyushu, Japan.

In terms of cultivation, you commonly hear these are ferns that like limey soils and that all are quite frost sensitive. I’ve found just the opposite here in Japan. While it is true you see P. multifida growing on concrete walls, in the wild it is found in acidic humus in and amongst rocks. The same is true of the other two species. They are found quite far north in Japan, especially P. multifida, which also ranges well into USDA cold hardiness zone 7 in New York. I’d guess that P. cretica and P. nipponica should be hardy to at least zone 8, perhaps even zone 7 for the former species.

A few cultural hints. Give them lots of water, however maintain good drainage. They will respond well to a variety of soils, from near neutral to acidic, and with varying amounts of organic material. Personally, I would grow them in an even mix of humus to perlite or the like. They definitely require humid conditions to do well. P. multifida is capable of handling full sun, while the other two are decidedly woodland plants. I would guess all would make excellent terrarium subjects. Like virtually any fern, they require humid conditions to flourish, so may prove difficult as house plants, particularly in centrally heated homes.

A mature Pteris nipponica in habitat showing both frond types, a young sterile frond on the left, and a mature fertile one on the right.

One word of caution, something that can be said of almost any Pteris fern – they tend to become pests when happy. P. cretica is found throughout the warmer parts of the world today, a testament to its propensity to spread. I’ve found P. multifida to be an absolute nuisance in the garden since it is constantly sporing in from the surrounding neighborhood. Pteris species produce a lot of spore and it germinates readily. Even the relatively sought after large species, Pteris wallichiana, spreads rapidly when happy. So, please be mindful, especially if you live in a warm, moist climate. These plants can become exotic pests.

In all likelihood few of you will ever grow these species as they exist in the wild, but just as likely some of you already have grown one of the cultivars of P. cretica. I find them to be fascinating plants, and some of the variegated types are quite gorgeous, but I suspect I will always enjoy them out in the field rather than in my garden.