{"id":277489,"date":"2024-10-28T12:00:33","date_gmt":"2024-10-28T12:00:33","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/?p=277489"},"modified":"2024-10-17T05:16:42","modified_gmt":"2024-10-17T04:16:42","slug":"the-poetic-science-of-the-ghost-pipe-emily-dickinson-and-the-secret-of-earths-most-supernatural-flower","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/2024\/10\/the-poetic-science-of-the-ghost-pipe-emily-dickinson-and-the-secret-of-earths-most-supernatural-flower\/","title":{"rendered":"The Poetic Science of the Ghost Pipe: Emily Dickinson and the Secret of Earth\u2019s Most Supernatural Flower"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

In the late autumn of 1890, four years after Emily Dickinson\u2019s death, her poems met the world for the first time in a handsome volume bound in white. Beneath the gilded title was a flower painting by Mabel Loomis Todd<\/a> \u2014 the complicated woman chiefly responsible for editing and publishing Dickinson\u2019s poems and letters.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Any flower would have been a fitting emblem for the poet who spent her life believing that \u201cto be a Flower is profound Responsibility,\u201d<\/a> but none more than this one \u2014 a flower she had collected in the woods of Amherst as \u201ca wondering Child,\u201d then pressed into her teenage herbarium<\/a> and into her poems, enchanted by its \u201calmost supernatural\u201d appearance.<\/p>\n

She considered it \u201cthe preferred flower of life.\u201d<\/p>\n

Monotropa uniflora<\/em>, known as ghost pipe, is unlike the vast majority of plants on Earth. White as bone, it lacks the chlorophyll by which other plants capture photons and turn light into sugar for life<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Throughout the summer \u2014 usually after rainfall, usually under beech trees \u2014 the ghost pipe emerges from the darkest regions of the forest floor in clusters, from the Himalayas to Costa Rica to Amherst. Each stem bears a single nodding flower \u2014 a tiny chandelier of several translucent petals encircling its dozen stamens and single pistil. Bumblebees, drawn to the pale beauty despite their astonishing ultraviolet vision<\/a>, are the ghost pipe\u2019s most passionate pollinators.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

Monotropa uniflora. (Photograph: Walter Siegmund.)<\/p><\/div>\n

The secret of Earth\u2019s most \u201csupernatural\u201d flower is its uncommon relationship with the rest of nature:<\/p>\n

<\/figure>\n

Rather than reaching up for sunlight like green plants, the ghost pipe reaches down. Its cystidia \u2014 the fine hairs coating its roots \u2014 entwine around the branching filaments of underground fungi, known as hyphae. So connected, the ghost pipe begins to sap nutrients the fungus has drawn from the roots of nearby photosynthetic trees.<\/p>\n

Out of this second-hand survival, such breathtaking beauty.<\/p>\n

The mystery of how the ghost pipe flourishes without chlorophyll has enchanted scientists since the dawn of botany. The answer began bubbling up with the discovery of the mycorrhizal network<\/a> undergirding the forest \u2014 a term coined in 1885 by the German botanist, plant pathologist, and mycologist Albert Bernhard Frank, from the Greek mykos<\/em> (fungus) and rhiza<\/em> (root). But for nearly a century, the mycorrhizal network \u2014 and its relation to the mystery of the ghost pipe \u2014 remained a purely theoretical notion, until in 1960 the Swedish botanist Erik Bj\u00f6rkman used sugars laced with the radioactive carbon-14 isotope to trace how nutrients move between trees and nearby ghost pipes via the underground fungi.<\/p>\n

It was a revelatory notion \u2014 an entirely new type of relationship we had never before imagined, as old as the living world.<\/p>\n

Less than a century later, we know that 90% of plants rely on these mycorrhizal relationships for their survival \u2014 an interdependence for which the English botanist David Read coined the term \u201cthe Wood Wide Web,\u201d to describe the groundbreaking research of Canadian plant ecologist Suzanne Simard<\/a>, who furnished the definitive evidence for it in the 1990s.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

Pressed ghost pipe from Emily Dickinson\u2019s herbarium, labeled in her hand.<\/p><\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

By late autumn, the ghost pipe has turned black and brittle. By winter, it has vanished.<\/p>\n

<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

\u201cThat it will never come again,\u201d Dickinson wrote, \u201cis what makes life so sweet.\u201d<\/p>\n

From the brevity and beauty of the ghost pipe\u2019s bloom emerges a tender living poem about the transience of life, about its mystery, about the delicate interdependence that deepens its sweetness.<\/p>\n

_______________________________________<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>My name is <\/em>Maria Popova<\/em><\/a> \u2014 a reader, a wonderer, and a lover of reality who makes sense of the world and herself through the essential inner dialogue that is the act of writing. <\/em>The Marginalian<\/em> (which <\/em>bore the unbearable name <\/em>Brain Pickings<\/a> for its first 15 years) is my one-woman labor of love, exploring what it means to live a decent, inspired, substantive life of purpose and gladness. Founded in 2006 as a weekly email to seven friends, eventually brought online and now included in the Library of Congress permanent web archive, it is a record of my own becoming as a person \u2014 intellectually, creatively, spiritually, poetically \u2014 drawn from my extended marginalia on the search for meaning across literature, science, art, philosophy, and the various other tendrils of human thought and feeling. A private inquiry irradiated by the ultimate question, the great quickening of wonderment that binds us all: What is all this? (<\/em>More<\/em><\/a>\u2026) <\/em><\/p>\n

Go to Original \u2013 themarginalian.org<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Any flower would have been a fitting emblem for the poet who believed that \u201cto be a Flower is profound Responsibility,\u201d but none more than a flower she had pressed into her poems, enchanted by its \u201calmost supernatural\u201d appearance.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":277492,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[63],"tags":[1177],"class_list":["post-277489","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-inspirational","tag-inspirational"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/277489","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=277489"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/277489\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":277498,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/277489\/revisions\/277498"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/277492"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=277489"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=277489"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=277489"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}