Ranunculus, and a plaintive plea for spring

I am so, so very sick of this snow. February is, to me, the bitterest month. It's cold, it's bleak and this month, the snow has been relentless. I've yet to see even the tiniest bit of Crocus foliage sprout and the snow makes it hard to even spend much time outdoors.

But, the days are lengthening, ever so slowly. And there is always the Duane Reade official sign of spring, the Peep (TM):



It's getting me so rammy that I finally decided to take some snapshots of plants at a florist. So I walked over to Adore Floral in Noho to see what they had blooming in a climate-controlled showroom.



I'll post a few other shots later this week but today we'll focus on Ranunculus asiaticus, or the Persian buttercup. This species of Ranunculus is native to the Mediterranean region and is a protected flower in Israel. It prefers a dry light soil, hot summers and mild winters.



Because it comes in a wide variety of colors and the big flower heads (with rows and rows of petals), it's a popular favorite in the floral industry, though the blossoms are still quite fragile.



Ranunculus are commonly called buttercup due to the buttery yellow color of another Ranunculus species, R. acris. Ranunculus itself is Latin for "little frog" (Rana=frog) because some species of this genus can be found near wetlands, which are also frequented by frogs.



Speaking of etymology, if the species name acris caught your eye, you'd be interested to know that indeed it is given this name because the plant has a bitter acrid taste that can be fatal to livestock if ingested fresh. It's unlikely, however that a cow or horse would eat much of it, due to the taste and the mouth blisters that animals will get after eating only a little of this plant. If humans handle the plant too much, they will also get a case of dermatitis caused by chemicals that can be released from the plant.

Plumbago auriculata

While we New Yorkers can rest a little more easily now that the snowstorm has passed (and we really weren't hit too badly at all; apologies to those of you snowed in further south!), there's still scant plant material to observe. So...I'm posting today about a plant in our office, Plumbago auriculata.


Plumbago is native to south Africa but is a common site in California and other Mediterranean climates. It's a vigorous grower and blooms as long as it has full sun and warm temperatures. Ours here, overlooking Crosby Street, would never live outside but the southern exposure has kept it blooming since December.


On a hunch, I checked to see if plumbago was related to phlox or vinca, since the flowers look so similar. No such luck; all three plants belong to different families (Plumbaginaceae, Apocynaceae and Polemoniaceae, respectively).


See below the fibers that protrude from the calyx? Those sticky fibers (commonly referred to as glandular hairs, though technically they are too substantial to be simply hairs) will remain at the base of the flower (look to the far right) and when a seed is ready for germination, they may attach to any animal that happens to pass by the plant. To be sure, I've seen more than a few plumbago seed capsules stuck in my boss's hair after she's watered this plant. These hairs also secrete a mucilage that can trap and kill insects.



The name plumbago is derivative from the Latin word for lead, plumbum. That's because it's believed this plant can cure lead poisoning. The plant is believed to also be a remedy for warts, broken bones and wounds. Indeed, hardy plumbago (Ceratostigma plumbaginoides) is commonly called leadwort.