Dave Taft For those of us old enough to remember giving or receiving an orchid corsage, the concept of a “weed orchid†seems odd. First discovered in 1879 near Syracuse, the helleborine (Epipactis helleborine) was first thought to be a new species of North American orchid. This caused quite a stir among 19th-century botanists and orchid enthusiasts, but the plant was later identified as a Eurasian native with a history dating to mid-16th-century herbal lore as a cure for gout.
We will probably never know if the plant was intentionally brought to North America, or if its seeds were hitchhikers on some transplanted Eurasian ornamental. What remains true is how well adapted it is to its new habitat.
Considering the rarity of our native orchids, and the near impossible task of transplanting them to gardens, it seems incredible that helleborine has become so well established. Quite simply, unlike our native orchids, this plant is happy with a wide range of soil conditions. It is also undaunted by some of the East’s most aggressive plants, like English ivy or pachysandra; it frequently grows through dense beds of these plants. I have even seen it perform one of the incredible feats of urban plant-world mythology, as it pushed its way through asphalt, a feat generally ascribed to bamboo or phragmites. It is truly a weed orchid.
In just a little over a hundred years, Epipactis helleborine has spread from Atlantic Coast to Pacific Coast and almost all points between.
About 20 years ago, I was serving my first day of jury duty in Kew Gardens, Queens, when the judge cheerily announced that a witness for the defense was late. Could the jury come back in five hours? At 10 o’clock in the morning I headed out to wander the enclave of colonial- and Tudor-style homes, with their old trees, privet hedges, trimmed lawns and winding roads, with legally sanctioned time in hand. Though my first orchid of the day was a variegated Chinese Cymbidium growing in the window of a sushi restaurant, it was not long before I discovered helleborine growing everywhere.
I now make this visit annually. This year, helleborine was particularly thick on Austin Street at 81st Avenue. It still sprouts from patios, rock walls, driveways, tree pits, mowed lawns, unmown lawns, privet hedges and hosta beds on 82nd Avenue, on Lefferts Boulevard and alongside slate-rock stairways on Grenfell Street, yards from the Long Island Railroad. As a weed, helleborine proudly holds its head up with dandelions, dayflowers, horseweed, mugwort, plantains and smartweeds, but helleborine is an orchid, whose modified lip and floral structures are as tropical looking as any orchid growing in the Brooklyn Botanic Garden or the New York Botanical Garden in the Bronx. Helleborine can also commonly be seen in Manhattan (Battery Park City is a good place to start, as is Central Park). But don’t stop there; hundreds of these orchids sprout from sidewalk cracks, curbside grassy patches, near fire hydrants, under hedges, and in densely planted borders in all five boroughs.
As I recounted my first exhausting day of civil service to my then-girlfriend, I told her about lunch at a great Kew Gardens ale house, a midafternoon revival house movie, and orchids growing in the streets. Her blank stare may have been incredulity, or jealousy, or perhaps a little of each.
