Basket Karvi

Strobilanthes is a strange genus. Like the bamboos, it contains multiple species which mass flower once in a while. Bamboos famously die after flowering. Strobilanthes do not. The basket Karvi (Strobilanthes sessilis), for example, mass flowers every seven years, and the small basket shaped bush lives on to flower again. If someone has written about how long a typical bush survives then I would like to know.

Different populations of basket Karvi flower in different years. In Kaas the mass flowering was supposed to be in 2023. When I went at the end of September, the weeks of hard rain had washed away the flowers. It was as disappointing as my visit to Erivakulam national park in 2018 to see the once-in-12-years mass flowering of Neelakurinji (Strobilanthes Kunthiana). That’s a story I’ve written about elsewhere. We don’t know the reasons for mass flowering, but climate change is messing with it.

I’m travelling in a really odd place where no network reaches. I will take a look at your posts and telegrams as soon as I’m able to.

Sahyadri Dew-grass

Greater Cat’s Ears, Abhali, Sahyadri Dew-grass, Cyanotis tuberosa, Valukaikizhangu, there are many different names for this plant. It grows in the linguistically diverse western ghats of India. I’ve written about it many times before, about its six stamens, about the flowering shoots, the tuber, and so on. I won’t write repeat myself again. This last monsoon I was happy just to look at an old favourite.

Kupar Musali

Across a ditch at the side of the road, at the foot of a slope I could see waist-high stalks with lovely white flowers. I didn’t think I had photos of these. It had just rained and the ditch was close to overflowing with water. The rocky slope with thin mud over it would be slippery. So I selected a landing carefully before jumping. There was a brief moment when I thought I would slide into the ditch, but I recovered my balance, and was ready for the flowers I could see at the base of the slope. I found later that this perennial was Chlorophytum glaucoides, whose range is restricted to these hills. Its name is Marathi is kupar musali. I took the photo at the end of September.

Blue Sonki

Blue Sonki (Adenoon indicum) is a pretty unique plant. The only member of its genus, it was described first in 1850 CE by the great botanist Nicolas Dalzell. I saw this half meter, knee high, bush in flower on the Kaas plateau at the end of September. It is a spectacular and uncommon native of the western ghats, and not found elsewhere. As you can see from the complex flowers, it is a member of the aster family (Asteraceae). An insight by Dalzell is relevant to the once forested rain-shadowed landscape leeward of the ghats; he was the first person to realize that deforestation is associated with decreased rainfall in the surroundings.

Nilgiri Flemingia

Nilgiri Flemingia (Flemingia nilghiriensis) was a flower I’d not noticed on previous visits to the Kaas plateau. The specimens I saw now grew in the soil between cracks in the stony plateau, its stem running along the ground and sending up erect stalks bearing hairy leaves and a single inflorescence. In the constant drizzle of that rainy day the hairy flower caught little drops of water which gleamed in the diffuse light. Later I found that the Flemingia are a genus in the pea family (Fabaceae) spread across Africa, India, southeast Asia, Australia, and Papua New Guinea. This perennial species from peninsular India is among a few in the genus which have an edible fleshy tuber.

The rain had beaten down the flowers of the inflorescence, so I had to crouch to get a better look at them. There were golden spots on the purple petals. These spots and the yellow hairs around the flowers would probably be how I would identify it in coming years. There is some discussion about whether the leaves should be uneven in thickness, so, when viewed against light it would show small translucent dots. Another bit of observation left for the next time. Everyone seems to warn you to be careful around these plants; it is a threatened species.

Botanical Survey of India classification: Endangered

Bulbous candlestick

Kaas plateau has several species of the odd genus Ceropegia. The flowers that you see here belong to Ceropegia bulbosa. Once you know its name you don’t need me to draw your attention to the bulbous base and tip of the candlestick. Like all members of its family, the petals open up to attract flies. Once it is in, the petals hinge closed to trap it. The frantic fly buzzes about, reaching deep into the bulbous kettle where it pollinates the flower and gets its reward of nectar. Once it is pollinated, the erect flower droops, and the cage of petals opens up to let the fly free. These are buds, the petals not yet fully formed.

The vines were long and twinned, and the thick round leaves were attached close to the stem. The bulbous ceropegia is said to be widely distributed in the Western ghats, but this was my first sighting of it. It is supposed to be threatened, so it must be rare although found over a large region.

Hairy candlestick

Ceropegia is a genus of plants in the milkweed subfamily (Asclepiadoideae) of the dogbane family (Apocynaceae) with a strange reproductive habit. The flowers release pheromones normally secreted by distressed predatory arthropods. This attracts flies which live by stealing its prey. The long petals of the flower snap shut over the fly. As it buzzes about, it penetrates deep into the long tube which contains the sexual organs of the flower. When pollination occurs, the petals open up, letting the fly go. I find it interesting that the genuses of plants which have unusual relationships with animals all seem to have originated from ancient Gondwanaland, and now are spread across India, Africa, Australia and South America.

The hairy Ceropegia (Ceropegia hirsuta var. vincifolia) may be the most common of the Ceropegia species on the Kaas Plateau. The two erect flowers that you see above are young buds, still not mature. The petals will open up eventually to attract flies. The featured photo shows a drooping flower from the same vine which has been fertilized. The flower droops as the cage pf petals opens to force the fly out. The two wilted leaves that you see look like those of a periwinkle (Vinca), giving the reason for the long name of this particular candlestick flower.

Burmann’s sundew

Burmann’s sundew (Drosera burmannii) has a morphology which is common among sundews. The leaves of the plant are a flat disk spread out on the ground, and a flowering stalk rises above it. Late in the monsoon the bud had not yet opened. The first time I’d seen this plant I’d mistaken the flat disk of the leaves for the flower, but when I took this photo on the Kaas plateau this year, it was clear from the green patches of chlorophyll that the disk is made of leaves. All Drosera species have hairy leaves, with drops of a sticky liquid at the ends. When a fly lands on it and gets stuck, its struggle to free itself triggers a reflex movement of the leaf which folds up to hold the insect in a tighter grip. The hairs then begin to take up nutrients from the animal. I wrote more about the physiology of these carnivorous plants last week.

This common feature among all the nearly 200 species in this genus made me ask about their evolution. Apart from the handful of species in the northern hemisphere, including a few which are native to India and southeast Asia, all the others are spread across the southern continents: South America, Australia, Africa. Genetic and taxonomic evidence favours the rise of the genus in present day Australia, followed by spread to South America, Africa, and possibly, India. The last time these landmasses were joined together was during the Jurassic period. That would put the origins of the Drosera at somewhere between 200 and 150 million years ago.

Shy Saturday

White flowers are often overlooked, especially if they are tiny. These were numerous on the Kaas plateau, but were only a millimeter or two in size. Just the thing to test out the macro settings on my camera. It is a completely white flower, so I lose very little if I take it in monochrome I thought. On that completely overcast day it was hard to take white flowers, but monochrome gave me more control. As I fussed about with my camera, I wondered which insects pollinate these flowers.

Flycatcher

Carnivorous plants which I’ve seen are tiny, feeding mainly on small flies. The name Flycatcher (Drosera indica, also called the Indian sundew) for the plant you see above is named for its lifestyle. Its leaves sprout hairs at the end of which are sticky drops of a liquid. When a fly comes along and gets stuck, its struggles generate a reflexive folding of the leaf (you can see a video here). The hairs then digest the insect.

You’ll notice that the leaves and stalks are green, so the plant performs photosynthesis. Darwin asked the question why it then also “eats” animals. He found that they grow in nitrogen-poor soil and extract both nitrogen and phosphorus from the animals it feeds on. Questions still abound. It seems that their growth is inhibited if they are given nutrient enriched soil, or are fed a large number of fruitflies. On the other hand, it seems that insect capture and plant growth are closely related. There is much to be understood yet about this medicinally important genus of plants.

Most sundews grow their flowers on long stalks away from its trapping leaves. The usual reason given for this is that it would not want its pollinators to be captured for food. You can see from the photo that the flower of the Indian sundew is not very far separated from the plant. This may be an indication that its pollinators can distinguish the smell of its nectar from that of its trap. Studies of the flower-trap separation in this genus do not seem to be very far advanced. The sundews remain as much of an “abominable mystery” as they were during Darwin’s time.