From Cretaceous Forests to Classical Medicine - The Early Story of the Orchid

To understand how the orchid appeared to the physicians of Rome, we must first travel back through the immense silence of deep time, to an age long before any human hand reached for a root or attempted to name a flower. The orchid had already witnessed entire worlds rise and fall, surviving eras dominated by creatures far more formidable than anything alive today. Its history is one of extraordinary resilience, carrying it from a planet ruled by scales and feathers into the earliest chapters of human civilization. When we look at an orchid now, we are looking at a survivor whose journey began in the shadow of giants, a plant that endured ecological catastrophes that erased species far more dominant than itself.

An illustration showing what the Late Cretaceous
landscape may have looked like in regions where early orchids could survive.

Orchids, Honey, and the North Carolina Mountains: A Weekend at the Arboretum

They say timing is everything, but in my world it’s usually a toss‑up between plants and history. Last year, I fully intended to make it to the Asheville orchid show, and then the SCA called. A friend was receiving a major award, and honestly, that’s one of the few things that can pull me away from a room full of blooms.

Fast forward to a few weekends ago, and the stars finally aligned. Lorelei and I loaded up for our very first road trip together, heading west to meet up with Carol.

For someone who spends so much time hovering over my Milsbo and Rudsta cabinets, tweaking humidity levels for my “indoor jungle,” it’s funny that I had never been to the North Carolina

Rooted in Community: My New Role Supporting the Triad Orchid Society

They say that once you buy your first orchid, you don’t just gain a plant; you gain a lifelong obsession. For me, that obsession led me straight to the Triad Orchid Society. What started as a simple quest to keep a few garden center rescues alive has blossomed into a collection of over 50 specimens and a deep dive into the science of orchid care.

If you’ve spent any time in my grow room, you know that I don’t just "water and hope." I love a good system. My home is a laboratory where horticulture meets high-tech; I manage my collection within specialized IKEA Milsbo and Rudsta cabinets, outfitted with environmental sensors to monitor every degree of temperature and percentage of humidity. I’ve even written custom scripts to track my collection's health and blooming cycles, always looking for ways to help things grow more efficiently.

Alchemy at the Kitchen Sink: Mixing the Perfect Orchid Tonic

If you walked into my kitchen this afternoon, you would have found me in a very specific, very 21st‑century state of mind: standing over a bucket with a 16‑in‑1 test strip in one hand and a bag of MSU fertilizer in the other. There’s something almost clinical about it, waiting for those tiny squares to bloom into color so I can calculate exactly what I’m feeding my orchids and houseplants.

But as the “hardness” pad turned its deep, stubborn purple, my mind drifted away from the chemistry in front of me and back toward the medieval herbals I’ve been studying. It struck me that while I’m obsessing over modern reagents, a 12th‑century gardener was doing the same essential work; they just called it searching for the “soul” of the water. For them, the watering can wasn’t a tool of measurement, it was a tool of alchemy.