The orchids glow like Chinese lanterns in the early morning light, white heads bobbing gently under the pattering rain.
The bog men, a loose group of mostly retired biologists, move through the mist slowly, carefully counting each nodding cluster of snow white flowers.
Once somewhat common, but now so rare that this field in south Baldwin County may be the last stand for the species in all of Alabama, the white-fringed orchid (Platanthera blephariglottis var. conspicua) is as showy and delicate as a flower could be. Each stalk supports 20 or more individual flowers. At a glance, their provenance is unmistakable, each bearing the distinct and ancient open-face pose characteristic of orchids.
While most people associate orchids with the large, sometimes spray-painted, tropical rainforest specimens for sale in the garden departments at grocery stores and Home Depot, Alabama is an orchid paradise. The state is home to more than 50 native orchid species, scattered from the hills of Huntsville to the bogs of the Mobile-Tensaw Delta.
The natives are dainty and intolerant of the changes we’ve made to the landscape. For the most part, they persist only in undisturbed habitats, like pitcher plant bogs. One species, the green fly orchid (Epidendrum conopseum) lives only in the tops of trees, typically nestled among the resurrection ferns growing in live oaks, an entirely arboreal existence.
But all of the orchids are becoming more rare by the year. Some, like the rose pinks, are fairly common, occurring in most bogs all across the state, while others, like the white-fringed and closely related orange-fringed orchids are almost unknown.
Fred Nation, one of Alabama’s top botanists and author of Where the Wild Illicium Grows, said there were records for about five populations of white-fringed orchids in the state in recent years, but this small, three-acre site may be the last one left. The orchids’ history on this piece of land explains much about the plight of the species, and of orchids in general, in Alabama.
Many of the orchid species are known as “fire followers,” meaning they bloom most prolifically in woods that are burned regularly, and disappear from woods if fire is suppressed. The presence of the white-fringed orchid here is testament to the role fire once played in Alabama’s forests and meadows.
The following year, after a mid-winter burn in the bog designed to clear out a lot of woody plants that had grown up, 40 orchids showed up. Another burn the next year produced 80 orchids. And so it has gone, with the population roughly doubling year over year. This year, there were 1,200 orchids in the small bog, crowded together by the dozens.
“We’ve gotten a few really good burns and the orchids really responded. You can see the results,” said Patrick Waldrop, recently retired from the Alabama Forestry Commission. “But we don’t know much about the ecology of the orchids. How often do we need to burn? How hot a fire do we want? Last year was probably the lightest fire, and of course they really responded well.”
From big species like the grass pink (Calopogon tuberosus), to the tiny fragrant ladies’ tresses (Spirantes odorata), the array of orchids in the Alabama woods is among the largest in the country.
“There are all sorts. We actually have some epiphytic orchids, species that live in trees. People want to look for them at their feet, but they are over their heads in the trees,” said Bill Finch, chief science and horticulture advisor at the Mobile Botanical Gardens. “By the time you put them all together, there are some really fabulous orchids, and just an unusually large number of species.”
The orchids, sporting names like Snakemouth, long-horned, shadow witch or downy rattlesnake, vary so much in appearance some are scarcely recognizable as orchids.
“Nearly all of our species are terrestrial, and most of our flowers are small. The largest are probably the grass pink orchids. The flowers are a couple of inches tall,” Nation said, describing a large, bright pink orchid that blooms in the beginning of the summer.
All 54 species in the state are rare, he said, in large part because the orchids are often dependent on specific bacteria in the soil to survive.
“That’s what makes them impossible to transplant. If you transplant an orchid, you can almost bet 95 to 100 percent it will die, primarily because of the associations the orchid has with the soil bacteria,” Nation said. “That makes them dependent on their location, but they are also quite habitat specific. They like a narrow range of conditions.”
The orchids are also limited because many of them have evolved in such a way that only certain species of bees or flies can pollinate them, further tying them to specific habitats. And, Nation noted, rodents love to eat the root structures of orchids.
“We’re lucky to have so many species,” Nation said “They’re really all around us here.”
Ben Raines is the executive director of the Weeks Bay Foundation, a non-profit land trust dedicated to preserving coastal Alabama. Email him at Ben@weeksbay.org, or follow him on Facebook and Twitter @BenHRaines.