Nurseryman Dick Jayne’s mountain laurel (Kalmia latifolia) varieties: A ‘Bullseye’; B ‘Snow Drift’; C ‘Carousel’; D ‘Olympic Wedding’; E ‘Freckles’; F ‘Snowdrift’; G ‘Minuet’; H ‘Hoffman’s Pink’; I ‘Kaleidoscope’; J ‘Shooting Star’.
It is unlikely that you would or could grow the wild white parasitic Indian pipe (Monotropa uniflora), which does not use chlorophyll to produce its food, feeding instead on a subterranean fungus associated with coniferous and hardwood forests across North America. Still, it turns out that the Indian pipe has some rather unexpected relatives along with other acid-loving genera from Andromeda to Zenobia, including rhododendron, blueberry, enkianthus, mountain laurel, heath, and heather: The family is Ericaceae.
Taxonomy is the area of botany that deals with naming, classifying, and sorting plants. Within the families there are the genera, and within those, species. With tongue firmly in cheek, horticulturists sometimes refer to taxono-mists as either “lumpers”—those who want to group plants into large families—or “splitters”—the scientists who try to divide them into smaller groups. At one time the lily family (Liliaceae) was huge. But in recent times, former members like succulent yuccas, hostas, daylilies, and asparagus have been plucked from the lily ranks to join other families. At least a rose is still a rose (and in the family Rosaceae).
Family names are capitalized, and end in a-c-e-a-e. As for pronunciation, that’s another issue. I’ve heard a-see-ee, a-see-a, a somewhat classical a-see-ee-eye, and other ways. (Who can correct our Latin? The Romans are long gone.)
But how does a plant like Indian pipe end up in the same family as the Japanese andromeda (Pieris japonica)? If you look very closely, you might see some physical similarities between the little bell-shaped flowers of blueberries and those of the Indian pipe. DNA analysis confirms the relationship. In a way, it even seems odd that broadleaf evergreen rhododendrons and deciduous azaleas are in the same genus. (Although that may even have changed by the time you are reading this book.)
Rhododendrons, especially the broadleaf evergreen types, seem to have more lovers and haters than most plants. I can see this polarization coming from the overuse of a few varieties, and out of bloom, some may look like Volkswagen Beetles parked in front of suburban picture windows. But this is prejudice, plain and simple. Meeting more rhodies and discovering that there are glorious deciduous fragrant native plants and Asian species with chamois felt under their leaves will enchant the uninitiated.
If you are lucky, and cast an eagle eye along the floor of an evergreen forest, you might encounter the ghostly white Indian pipe. Surprisingly, this parasitic plant without chlorophyll is related to rhododendrons—in the family Ericaceae.
Late winter at Middleton Place in Charleston, South Carolina, the oldest landscaped gardens in America, begun in 1741. The Rice Mill Pond, created by damming a creek to power the 1851 mill, features colorful Rhododendron indicum hybrids.