The mature orchids on the tree had been growing there for several years. I transplanted them there… none of them were grown from seed. I’m guessing that they already had the fungus in their roots. The fungus had plenty of time to spread… but it doesn’t seem able to venture very far away from the comfort of the orchid roots that it resides in. The bark is very hot, sunny and dry during the day. Not the kind of conditions suitable for most fungus.
I sowed more seeds in subsequent years… but haven’t spotted any new protocorms. Not sure why this is. The winter before I sowed the seeds was particularly wet for Southern California. This might have led to a fungal feeding frenzy? Also, that was the only year that I had sowed Laelia anceps seeds. Laelia anceps is pretty tolerant of drier/hotter conditions.
I took a look at the article that you shared. A lot of the science was over my head… but isn’t it interesting that they didn’t discuss the fact that an orchid seed pod can contain a million seeds? The orchid seed pod can contain so many seeds because the seeds are so small. And the seeds are so small because they don’t contain any nutrients. And the reason that the orchid seed doesn’t have any nutrients… is because it relies on its fungal partner to provide it with the nutrients it needs to germinate. So I’m guessing that the rate of radiation increased whenever this unusual association developed.
Evidently it’s a pretty good strategy to outsource the provision of nutrients to a fungal partner. In economics, this is known as a division of labor. A division of labor helps to increase productivity.
Outsourcing to fungal partners is a pretty ancient adaptation (there has to be a review called something like ‘mycorrhizas in land plants’; if you are not able to find it, I’ll track the link later. Contains an interesting discussion of its evolution and secondary loss in some families, like Cruciferae (Brassicaceae)). BTW, it is interesting to note that Ophioglossaceae (a family of ferns, of which Wiki will tell you better than I) are thought to radiate in approximately the same time—and you will see just how closely their life forms resemble orchids! (Er. People who love orchids tend to praise other plants on the scale of orchid-likeness, so take this with a grain of salt.)
I mostly pointed you to the article because it contains speculations about what drove their adaptations in the beginning; I think that having a rather novel type of mycorrhiza, along with the power of pollinators (and let’s not forget the deceiving species!) might be two other prominent factors, besides sheer seed quantity, to spur them onward.
The mature orchids on the tree had been growing there for several years. I transplanted them there… none of them were grown from seed. I’m guessing that they already had the fungus in their roots. The fungus had plenty of time to spread… but it doesn’t seem able to venture very far away from the comfort of the orchid roots that it resides in. The bark is very hot, sunny and dry during the day. Not the kind of conditions suitable for most fungus.
I sowed more seeds in subsequent years… but haven’t spotted any new protocorms. Not sure why this is. The winter before I sowed the seeds was particularly wet for Southern California. This might have led to a fungal feeding frenzy? Also, that was the only year that I had sowed Laelia anceps seeds. Laelia anceps is pretty tolerant of drier/hotter conditions.
I took a look at the article that you shared. A lot of the science was over my head… but isn’t it interesting that they didn’t discuss the fact that an orchid seed pod can contain a million seeds? The orchid seed pod can contain so many seeds because the seeds are so small. And the seeds are so small because they don’t contain any nutrients. And the reason that the orchid seed doesn’t have any nutrients… is because it relies on its fungal partner to provide it with the nutrients it needs to germinate. So I’m guessing that the rate of radiation increased whenever this unusual association developed.
Evidently it’s a pretty good strategy to outsource the provision of nutrients to a fungal partner. In economics, this is known as a division of labor. A division of labor helps to increase productivity.
I find it fascinating when economics and biology combine.… What Do Coywolves, Mr. Nobody, Plants And Fungi All Have In Common? and Cross Fertilization—Economics and Biology.
Outsourcing to fungal partners is a pretty ancient adaptation (there has to be a review called something like ‘mycorrhizas in land plants’; if you are not able to find it, I’ll track the link later. Contains an interesting discussion of its evolution and secondary loss in some families, like Cruciferae (Brassicaceae)). BTW, it is interesting to note that Ophioglossaceae (a family of ferns, of which Wiki will tell you better than I) are thought to radiate in approximately the same time—and you will see just how closely their life forms resemble orchids! (Er. People who love orchids tend to praise other plants on the scale of orchid-likeness, so take this with a grain of salt.)
I mostly pointed you to the article because it contains speculations about what drove their adaptations in the beginning; I think that having a rather novel type of mycorrhiza, along with the power of pollinators (and let’s not forget the deceiving species!) might be two other prominent factors, besides sheer seed quantity, to spur them onward.