Here before us is what has been called
Orbea semota var.
lutea, a popular version of
O. semota with vibrant yellow flowers- '
lutea' means 'yellow' in Latin, specifically a deep yellow one sees in buttercups. However, this name appears to only circulate these days among the horticultural community, as color forms hold no taxonomic value- but we'll get to that. Thus, the name
O. semota var.
lutea is now only a synonym of
O. semota. Or so the gods at the hallowed halls of Kew say. This form is said to have been originally found near Nairobi in Kenya, growing on rock outcrops.
 |
A fly moves into the flower to lay its eggs, which immediately hatch into writhing maggots. This flower opened last Dec. 30.
|
Color forms really aren't distinct from the normal ones- except of course for the color. This is the reason why in the taxonomic discipline, such differences are not given separate status such as
variety or
forma (this latter designation is the more proper way to distinguish color forms, by the way). This is actually a reasonable line of thought, although horticulturists will disagree. But you know plant people: they find even the slightest quirks in their plants and announce to the world that they're only the ones who have it. But going back...
I have mixed feelings about placing var.
lutea under the synonymy of
O. semota. Never mind the name, as this variety seems distinguishable beyond the subject of color. The structure of the corona between the two are very different, and so are the vibratile trichomes at the margins of the corollas. In
O. semota, these 'hairs' are distinctly clavate, that is, are terminated with thickened, almost ball-like, tips. The hairs on var.
lutea are comparatively longer and non-clavate. To be honest, it may be that var.
lutea is sufficiently different to warrant its distinction from
O. semota, at least at the varietal level. But on the other side of the coin, it may also be that these morphological differences are just both ends of a cline, with many forms that have intermediate features, thereby connecting the extremes found in both
O. semota and var.
lutea, except perhaps for the color. It should be noted that collectors have a bias towards attractive forms of plants, passing over those they think are rather inferior. So what usually happens is that we end up with attractive plants in cultivation that do not necessarily represent the taxon as a whole. If such is the case, then the decision to merge var.
lutea to the nominate
O. semota is a sound one. Still, I am only making guesses here, as I haven't really studied these plants in their native haunts, much less see them there.
To be honest, I have no qualms of calling these as
O. semota, but you know how things are with horticulture. If someone talks about
O. semota, it's not far-fetched to think that people will be kept guessing whether this person is referring to the 'real' one, or to the yellow-flowered varieties. So let's call these plants
O. semota var.
lutea, if only to avoid confusion.
 |
| This flower opened today, January 6. Probably because I took photos early in the morning, no flies nor ants have been attracted yet. |
 |
| Close-up of the corona. The corona morphology of O. semota var. lutea appears to be variable. |
 |
| And here's a slightly closer view, which I (pathetically) achieved by placing a hand lens close to the camera lens. |
 |
| This is a bad photo, I know. But the simple hairs, as opposed to the clavate ones found on O. semota, can be clearly appreciated here. |
 |
Early morning blossom.
|
These plants normally flower during the warmer months, but both my main clump and the rooted cuttings did so around the Christmas holidays, a period defined by moderate to heavy rains falling EVERYDAY. Most of my stapeliads are potted in a heavily mineralized mix with very little organic matter and only sparingly fertilized, and exposed to both sun and rain. But due to the damp conditions coupled with the lower temperatures, I felt it prudent to move them to a sheltered position. The cacti, however, are left to fend for themselves. Those guys are so tough they might even smirk at a Biblical-type deluge.
Scent-wise, the flowers have a mixed rancid/fetid odor that the flies find truly appealing. Personally, I do not mind the odor, which to me is more respectful than the much more contemptuous
O. abayensis. A fun aspect of these flowers is that the marginal trichomes move at the slightest breeze. If you're dying of boredom and have luteas in flower, try speaking to them- they'll surely respond! 😁
Comments
Post a Comment