Acidanthera – Photo from Suesviews https://www.flickr.com/photos/suzieq/242252223/
Dear Readers, many moons ago I had a very flat garden with very heavy clay soil, and not a lot of sunlight. So, I went to my ancient RHS Encyclopaedia to see what I could grow, and one of the suggestions was Acidanthera, so I duly popped some in. When they emerged I was stunned at their elegance and sweet smell but then, when I moved, I promptly forgot about them again. Until earlier this week, when my friend J was looking for a summer plant for clay soil that was white in colour, and here we are.
The corms only come in supersized bags of 60, so we’ve split a packet and the Race For Acidanthera is now on, with prizes for first flower and largest flower. What the prizes will be remains to be seen, but I’m sure it will involve cake.
Anyway, what on earth is this flower? It used to be known as Acidanthera bicolor, but these days it’s been firmly plonked in the Gladioli family, and is known as Gladiolus murielae. Its English names include Abyssinian gladiolus, and fragrant gladiolus, and indeed the plant comes originally from East Africa, with a range from Ethiopia to Malawi. The shape of the flowers is very unusual, and they seem to dangle from the stems like so many butterflies, but the Sarah Raven website calls the plant the peacock lily, though it isn’t a lily.
Incidentally, the name ‘Gladiolus‘ means ‘small sword’, which refers to the spikey green foliage when it first emerges from the ground. ‘Acidanthera’ means ‘pointed object’ or ‘needle’. So now we know.
Photo by Stefano at https://www.flickr.com/photos/81918877@N00/48903783198
In theory, Acidanthera should be hardy if you give it a thick mulch, but the Gardener’s World website suggests that it should be treated as an annual, which seems like a bit of a waste. It also suggests that the plant needs well-drained soil, which makes me wonder about my ageing encyclopaedia. Oh well, we can only try. Interestingly, it also suggests soaking the bulb in warm water before planting, and also says that the bulbs shouldn’t be planted until late spring. Have any of you had a go with this plant, Readers? Give me a shout if you have any experience/advice.
Photo by Yercaud-elango, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons
Acidanthera is thought to be pollinated by moths in its native countries, and this makes a kind of sense – the scent is stronger at night, and many moth-pollinated flowers are white.
It appears that the flowers (described as ‘lettuce-like’ in flavour) are edible for humans : the Van Meuwen website suggests including them in ‘sweet and savoury spreads’, while the individual petals can be used in salads.
The corms have been used as antimicrobials and anti-inflammatory agents in African traditional medicine, for both humans and animals.
Most of all though, for the gardener, this is a plant that promises to fill that awkward gap in late summer, when most plants have already ‘gone over’ and the autumn specialists (such as asters and sedums) aren’t yet ready to pop. I will be interested to see how my friend J and I get on.
Photo by Wylie at https://www.flickr.com/photos/wylieyoung/5041151175
And finally, a poem. As you might expect, poems celebrating the Acidanthera are few and far between, probably because what would you rhyme with it? But here is a poem by South African poet Mbuyiseni Oswald Mtshali that mentions gladioli in general, and although it’s set in a Johannesburg park, it also reminds me of Parisian parks that I’ve visited, where people sit with their bare feet on the low fence around the lawn, occasionally touching a toe to the green if they don’t think the park keeper is watching….see what you think.
KEEP OFF THE GRASS by Mbuyiseni Oswald Mtshali
The grass is the green mat
trimmed with gladioli
red like flames in the furnace.
The park bench, hallowed,
holds the loiterer listening
to the chant of the fountain
showering holy water in the congregation
of pigeons.
“Keep off the grass,
Dogs not under leash forbidden.”
Then Madam walks her Pekinese,
bathed and powdered and perfumed.
He sniffs at the face of the “Keep Off” sign
with a nose as cold as frozen fish
and salutes it with a hind paw
leaving it weeping in anger and shame.
There is a lot to be read between the lines of this poem.
Thank you for reminding me of these lovely plants, I have grown them in the past, usually in large pots, bit cooler here than where you live, let them dry off at the end of the season,then store indoors in paper bags for next spring, must see if I can obtain a few, good luck with yours.