Submerged beneath the dense woodland canopy and delicately creeping into ethereal blooms, wildflowers are Britain’s tiny harbingers of the spring and summer months.
An ancient sight which captures both the fragility of nature as she waltzes through the seasons and the primitive beauty of the unkempt green that once draped the span of the British Isles.
Wildflowers were once as abundant in sight as in symbolism, their presence woven profusely throughout native Druid and Celtic mythology.
Each plant’s components, from its leaves to its seeds and picturesque petals, were heralded in some way by the ancient European peoples.
Known for their plethora of medicinal, physical and metaphysical uses, they have now mostly been replaced by modern medicine, machinery and the spread of new-world religions such as Christianity.
Wildflowers Fragile Landmarks of our Landscape
From the administering of lavender to induce sleep and love, to the use of deep, colour-cloaked cornflower petals in the antique creation of inks and dyes, wildflowers became a subtle way of life; one of the many threads forming the tapestry of local folklore and the pre-industrial lifestyle.
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The enthralling influence of wildflowers isn’t confined to the deep reaches of antiquity, however.
The aura of bluebells, primroses, brambles and foxgloves invites our imagination back to vintage scenes of fairies and Victorian secret gardens, aged woodlands which sprawl with infinite riches and lost worlds plunged within the cryptic forest gloom.
These plush panoramas inspired by our local flora are deep-rooted within classic English literature and poetry.
Their mystic vision cropping up repeatedly through novels and folk tales stretching back centuries, such as Shakespeare’s A Midsummer’s Night Dream, whilst lacing the poetry of the Romantic era with their themes of beauty, fragility and growth.
Lost Life and Mysterious Discoveries
As intricately entwined as they are within our front gardens, woodlands and imaginations, wildflowers are declining in shocking numbers; their rates succumbing to a despairing array of natural, ecological threats, as well as those posed by humankind.
It’s a strange tragedy that Man, who once revered the local lands which nourished his close-vicinity lifestyle, would one day turn against them.
In slow, maniacal hostility, and cause the loss of an estimated 97% of Britain’s wildflower meadows, a number stemming from R.M Fuller’s 1986 study on the changing grasslands of England and Wales.
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Without the intervention of ecological and environmental restoration organisations such as Plantlife, most native and long-lived species of wildflower threaten to retract into an imperiling state of exclusivity and disregard.
In areas where just a century before they had carpeted the lands, laying the breathtaking fabric of the ecosystem depended upon by all manner of pollinators, insects and other creatures.
Interestingly, some wildflower species have attained an almost mythical status, their enigmatic rarity pre-dating the devastating impact of deforestation, climate change and other man-made natural disaster.
Whilst frustratingly becoming even harder to find due to the recent downfall of their peculiarly unique habitats.
Britain’s Most Elusive Wildflowers
The Ghost Orchid (Epipogium aphyllum)
Potentially the rarest flower ever to have been discovered growing in Britain, the evasive Epipogium aphyllum, commonly referred to as the Ghost Orchid, is a species steeped in biological mystery.
Exhibiting petite cream flowers perched like wraiths upon an decorated alien stem, this leafless plant is in fact a blossoming parasite; an odd phenomenon of plant life which does not require photosynthesis to survive.
Found growing sparsely in the thick mass of moist leaves and decomposing vegetation shed from the sheltering trees above.
The ghost orchid relies not on sunlight for its growth, instead leeching its energy by rooting into its neighbouring trees, gaining its needed nutrients from the death and decay of nature around it.
Without a trace of chlorophyll found within its anatomy, this tiny vampire thrives in the opposite conditions than one would expect to find a wildflower.
Empowered by the mournful ambiance of the dark night, the shade of the deep woods and the dank rot of sludge lining the untouched forest floor.
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Such specific growing conditions certainly don’t help the ghost orchid find prominence within our woodlands, but this beguiling flower is burdened by evermore confounding qualities encouraging its rarity.
Dormant for a Decade
Aside from bearing no leaves to help identify the plant whilst not in flower, this paradoxical orchid actually spends the majority of its existence buried beneath the earth, rather than breaking the soil’s surface and reaching heavenwards as we’ve come to expect plants to do.
For only one summer per decade, the ghost orchid’s earth-smothered rhizomes (stems that form underground like roots) begin to produce a flower bud, before the mythical appearance of the flower-crowned rhizome begins to climb forth from its entombment of mulched leaves and soil the following summer, if it is lucky.
The ghost orchid’s stupefying infrequency of flowering, topped with the fact it takes an entire year for the flower bud to form and eventually bloom.
It means that surviving plants are under constant threat by landscapers unsurprisingly ignorant that this strange, unheard of species might be hibernating in the soil beneath them, waiting to bare its tiny blossom only once every 10 years.
Pronounced extinct, rediscovered and now considered critically endangered, this haunting flower endlessly evades consistent discovery, its sightings in the UK reported only a handful of times with every passing generation.
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However, the notion that perhaps more parasitic ghost orchids are lying in wait, secreted in the soil and conspiring to one day rise from their alternate underworld captures the true essence of macabre mysticism canopying Europe’s eldest woodlands.
Red Helleborine (Cephalanthera rubra)
Another subterranean rhizomatous orchid, Cephalanthera rubra, commonly known as the Red Helleborine, is often counted amongst the rarest flowers found gracing the British Isles, despite appearing more commonly throughout the rest of the European continent.
Like the ghost orchid, the red helleborine exhibits a peculiarly leafless stem, its deep browns coloured with breathtaking contrast to its ornamental clusters of purpleish, wing-shaped flowers, lending inspiration to the plant’s German nickname, Waldvöglein; a mesmerising translation of ‘little birds of the wood.’
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Despite an ability to flower perennially from May till July, the red helleborine remains fantastically rare among our native woodlands, being notoriously difficult to spot amongst its dark, clustered habitat.
Despite enjoying its dim, forest environment, this plant will fail to flower if the light levels are lowered too catastrophically by thickly overgrown canopy coverage, letting it thrive instead in deciduous forests which shed their leaves with the coming of winter, bestowing more sun to the soil.
Favouring hilly woodlands and particularly calcareous grounds such as chalk and limestone, it’s said that even when its tiny flowers are in bloom, the red helleborine hides within its landscape; a rare plant made even rarer in recent years by the onslaught of industrialism.
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In the UK, this fastidious flower can sadly only be found in three individual locations: Workman’s Wood in Gloucestershire, Hawkley Warren in Hampshire and Window Hill in Buckinghamshire.
Theories
But this orchid’s mysterious allure isn’t constricted to its physical rarity.
This is a flower which doesn’t produce any nectar or scent, uniquely enticing pollinators to its empty, magenta petals in the same way as it attracts us; through intrinsic, rare beauty alone.
There are a few contrasting claims as to exactly how the red helleborine reproduces, since it’s clearly not done through pollination-based seed production as expected.
These theories range from flies, to rain-induced self-pollination, to a species of bee yet to be discovered in the UK, deepening the mystery of this species’ survival to a perplexing extent.
Now regarded a protected UK species under the 1975 Conservation of Wild Creatures and Wild Plants Act, it’s not too surprising that these bird-like orchids are so rare among our woodlands.
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Not only do they have a pitifully low rate of seed production and are subject to flowerless years in the case of insufficient light, but red helleborines are also notably poor at competing with neighbouring plants of greater fertility, making them exceedingly susceptible to nationwide extinction.
But like the ghost orchid, there’s an increasingly curious chance of discovering new clusters of red helleborine amidst the crawling entanglement of unobserved nature.
Wood Calamint (Clinopodium menthifolium)
Not all of Britain’s rare wildflowers are cloaked in mystical eerieness. Clinopodium menthifolium, otherwise known as Wood Calamint, is so common in North America that it borders upon being an invasive species.
Here in the UK, however, it’s found in distinct isolation, in a single chalk valley upon the Isle of Wight.
Wood calamint has been threaded into the lifestyles of those across seas for centuries.
Its fragrance and flavour lends its use to culinary practices, whilst the plant’s medicinal properties are thought to ease the pain of migraines, digestive issues and skin conditions.
Its quaint, candy floss hued flowers are a godsend for a myriad of winged creatures, being an abundant source of pollen whilst offering a decent amount of shelter beneath their shrubby, leafy growth.
Dusted with ornamental blossoms, this dark-stemmed wildflower is actually known in the US for its remarkable ability to prosper in unforgivably moist soils.
Such as those found near riverbanks and water-logged meadows, as well as being found scattering the outer boundaries of forests, grasses and much drier, chalk-based grounds, such as the Isle of Wight.
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It’s odd that this health-inspiring, pollinator-friendly perennial hasn’t dotted its way further into our local woodlands and countrysides, supposing it’s as invasive as it’s believed to be and thrives in conditions that our native forests and marshy riverbanks could likely provide.
Twinflower (Linnae borealis) One of the Most Rare of Wildflowers
The twinflower’s story is a dreadfully romantic reflection of Mankind’s ruthless incursion into the magnificence of the natural world.
A delicate, drooping white flower flushed with pastel pinks, this progressively rare, endangered species is nature’s sweet reimagination of the bluebell, each intimate flower shoot composed of a single, slender stem, split at the heart into two silken flowerheads.
With paired blossoms giving an instant impression of inseparable romance between infinitely soul-entwined couples, the twinflower faces an adversely despairing future; the species now standing upon the precipice of extinction due to genetic isolation and the vast stretches of civilisation separating each cluster of flowers.
Whilst woven throughout the sub-Arctic forests, the appearance of twinflowers in the UK is confined to the Caledonian pine forests of the Scottish Highlands, with a sparse few others strayed across Northern England.
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These dainty, night-perfumed flowers thrive in more open woodlands compared to the dense forests favoured by the obscure orchid varieties above, even possessing the ability to sprawl webs across the soil and craft their own unique form of ground coverage.
1753
The twinflower is often remembered as being the favourite flower of Carl Linnaeus, the Swedish botanist who first distinguished the species in 1753, named it after himself and, most famously, introduced the modern idea of granting each living organism a recognisable, common name, alongside their official Latin term.
According to the Scottish Wildlife Trust, 44% of Scotland’s prized twinflower has been lost since the 1970s to a range of natural and man-made traumas.
Most notably is the devastating influence of deforestation, isolating each twinflower community evermore ruthlessly between mankind’s concrete imaginations.
As cross-pollinating plants, twinflowers are deeply dependent upon pollinators to aid in their seed production process.
However, these sparse clusters of twinned flowers have been cast into an alarming solitude by the towns and cities blossoming between them.
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Studies suggest that pollinators increasingly struggle to cross the lamentable distance separating each twinflower colony; the secluded flowers hidden within remote forests thus swamped with the damning effects of genetic isolation.
These remaining twinflower colonies are predisposed to disease, environmental changes and other natural misfortunes which, under other circumstances, might not be so crippling to the species, highlighting the unquestionable importance of natural preservation and attention to the local flora which surrounds us.
Preserving Our Roots and Wildflowers
Whilst wildflowers have been celebrated by the native British people since antiquity, their symbolism in today’s concrete civilisation is already showing grand signs of flaking.
Many plants explored in this article could be considered weeds until they blossom, assuming a non-appealing appearance until their rare showcasing of flowers, sometimes emerging as mere stems trailing momentarily across the forest floor.
Raising the question; how many rare organisms are simply not given the chance to live, uprooted before they have reached their true, bountiful potential?
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Even the most renowned wildflowers of Britain’s countryside are at risk of being lost, including the bluebell – the backbone of English fairy folklore and country gardens.
A sentiment which was profoundly remarked upon in 2018 by botanist, Dr Trevor Dines: “Somebody can go into an ancient, wildflower-rich meadow and plough it up within an afternoon, and centuries of carefully managed habitat has disappeared instantly.”
Our primordial love for rainbow-diffused meadows flocked with wildflowers and wings is a quality which needs to be nurtured rather than left to wither shamefully into antiquity.
Rather than being drawn like fireflies to the hypnotic distractions of electricity, imminent importance soon dawns upon the act of finding natural equilibrium by allowing as much land for the wild as we take for ourselves.
