Well, Michael stepped in and helped, but no other expert came through with an identification of John’s liana. So with a flurry of emails and image exchanges, we put together an argument that the liana is in the Boraginaceae family.
First, the characteristics listed by Gentry (all illustrations from John’s plant):
- simple, usually alternate leaves
- leaves and stems with stiff hairs
- strongly one-sided coiled inflorescence (flower cluster)
In John’s plant, the inflorescence is coiled when young and then
it straightens out.
- mostly butterfly-pollinated flowers
These four characteristics strongly pointed toward Boraginaceae. To really nail the family, though, we thought we ought to look at the fruits and seeds. Here’s what the seed site has to say about the Boraginaceae:
- the fruit is either four nutlets or a drupe (fleshy with a thin skin, such as a grape, plum or cherry)
- there are four seeds
Here are just a few of John’s fruit and seed images (click on any for a larger version):
No question that these fruits are drupes, and the last image shows the four seeds. (You’ll also notice some discoloration in the last image. John says that these fruits, once cut, discolor very quickly, like apples only even more quickly.)
For those of you who remember Michael’s liana, by the way, his plant seems not to belong to the Borage Family – the leaves are opposite rather than alternate, although the opposite leaf arrangement does rarely occur in the Boraginaceae. I’m hoping that one day he’ll have time to identify it and let us know what he learns.
The Borage Family is an honorable one, with about 2000 species. It includes the famous flower, the Forget-Me-Not, comfrey, and of course, borage, for which the family was named.
So, can we go any further than family with this plant? Maybe.
Seven genera of the family Boraginaceae are known for Panama (Miller, 1988) – three genera of trees or shrubs, and four genera of herbs, lianas, vines, or clambering shrubs.
Of the four genera we’re interested in,
- if the flower petals are white, green, or yellow green,
- and the plants are woody
- while the fruits are fleshy
the plant belongs to the Tournefortia genus (Miller, 1988). With a name like that, and with the coiled inflorescence, at least in the early stages, I was sure the name had something to do with a “strong turning” as in tourniquet! Well, guess what, the genus was named for a person – Joseph Pitton de Tournefort, 18th century French botanist who was professor of botany at the Jardin des Plantes (Dave’s Garden Botanary). Sometimes you just can’t outguess botanical names.
Tournefortia is well distributed throughout Latin America.
Fourteen species of Tournefortia are known for Panama, so it may take some time before we know which species John’s liana belongs to, but it’s pretty satisfying to get this far.
And one of the neatest finds (for me) is this. While searching online for more information about Tournefortia, my eye was caught by a link to Dangling in the Tournefortia
Who can resist a title like that? Maybe read some poetry while nibbling on the fruits. What do you think, John?
Update:
Michael has succeeded in identifying his vine. It’s Petrea volubilis, also known as the sandpaper vine from its rough leaves. (Image from wikimedia commons.)
P. volubilis is in the Verbenaceae or verbena family – not in the Boraginaceae or borage family. Both Michael and John thought there were significant differences in the leaves between John’s liana and Michael’s liana. I had thought it possible that the leaves came from the same family. Shows you how much I know!
Mary,
Good work! I’m impressed with your sleuthing skills. Nice presentation of the evidence – good going, John!
Thanks Carla. Now that I’ve found the MoBot Annals online (many of them, anyway), I have a little more confidence in what I see. It’s lots of fun.
Well, if if botany and poetry go together well, here goes my contribution. A bit of history first: My Old Man, Irving Bennett, was born in Worcester, Mass and grew up in the New England area, eventually becoming a traveling auditor for the United States Fruit Co.
My mother was born in Panamá, son of George Francis Novey from New York and Amalia Garrido (Panamanian). George came to work on the Canal construction, and met my grandmother in the boarding house where he rented a room; the boarding house belonged to my grandmothers mother, who had to rent their house out after her husband passed away.
When my mother was 14, she was sent to school in New York, close to West Point. There she had a roommate who would boar her to death every night with stories about this wonderful boyfriend; who my mother never met. After several years of school, she came back to Panamá.
My Father, Irving got an offer from the Fruit Co. to go to Panamá and look over the accounting, for the accountant in Panamá had passed away. Here he met, and married Yvonne, my mother. Sometime later, my mother heard Irving singing a song in Spanish, and she said to Irving: “Where did you learn that song?” “Ho, that was way before I met you.” Yes but, how… it’s a Panamanian song.” “Well, a girlfriend I had taught it to me…” Yes, that’s right… it was my mother roommate.
Anyway, and getting back to botany & poetry, our family were the first city folk who built homes in El Valle, even before the road was built. So my grandfather prefabricated the house out of wood and Celotex, and it had to be carried down to the Valley floor by mule.
We grew up in that cozy little house of cardboard that grew through the years, where most of all of our family honeymooned. The house was finally taken down last year, after more than 70 years to make way for a two story modern home that now belongs to my brother Irving. But I will never forget that chair where my father would sit with a view of “El Gaital”, the most prominent mountain in the volcano caldera that is El Valle. One day, after Irving passed away from cancer, and that his ashes lie buried just a bit off from his favorite chair; I sat there and heard the laughter of our children playing in the river. It was a windy afternoon, whit the wind swirling the drizzle that is typical to El Valle, and this is what I wrote:
Gaital
Amber glow presages the pall of ending day
and in this hollow of fleeting solitude,
there linger in my thoughts
times past present,
of loved ones gone and still to come.
The distant voice of youth begotten,
chimes of cares not yet foreseen.
In this slumberous crater of earthen fires
suffuse in drizzle,
our kin have webbed fine strands of life’s tapestry.
And though time will bring asunder,
we still remain in dreams anew.
Joys and sorrow swirl in the winds around us;
yet, we must foresee our path beyond,
where loves can stay and live anew.
So, back to the Boraginaceae liana, I really enjoyed the discovery process with Mary and Michael, and looking forward to whatever else there is to know about this wonderful plant that came to my home on its own, born on wings and pop and is a source of great pleasure to winged and not winged dwellers of our Las Cumbres home.
John
John – what a terrific contribution you have made to my humble blog, and I’m overwhelmed at this story and your poetry, which, by the way, is pretty far removed from the more modernist poems in Dangling in the Tournefortia. My own taste leans toward your poetry.
At any rate, it’s been an interesting exploration into the borage family, and it’s been really a pleasure getting acquainted this way.
Mary
I was great fun to enter the realm of planetary sleuthing of the sedentary sun worshippers, and has made me aware of a lifetime of ignoring extraordinary beings, at least in their names and characteristics. Quite often we see plants as an impediment that must be met with the sharp edge of a machete. But I do love plants. I’m sending Mary a picture of my Panamanian higland terrarium, that I keep in my air conditioned room.
It’s good to have people like Mary setting up web sites that encourage our explorations of our surroundings, and comments like Carla’s; particularly when all you have to do is visit your backyard.
One of the points brought home by doing so has been the sharing, not only of writing, pictures, investigative skills and information buy most of all the “emotions”, which are elicited through this bond of simple adventure. It is with real pleasure and new enthusiasm that I now walk through my garden, and anywhere else that I wander; and this is brought into focus by Mary’s quote of Darwin: “…a traveler should be a botanist, for in all views plants form the chief embellishment.”
John,
What a nice comment – thanks! Welcome to the world of plant sleuthing.
Hi everyone,
My name is Patrick and this site is GREAT! I live in the coronado area and I was hoping someone might have some information on where I may be able to get some cuttings of the sandpaper vine or A major nursery in Panama that has these BEAUTIFUL flora. On a side note has anyone heard of dwarf fruit trees here they are only 5 feet tall but produce regular size fruit. If anyone has information it would be greatly appreciated.
Sincerly,
Patrick
Hi Patrick,
Thanks for your appreciative comment. I’m hoping that someone in Panama will see your comment here and will reply. If not, you might consider joining the Gardening in Panama yahoo group and posting your question there. Very knowledgeable people belong to that group, and if anyone can answer your questions, someone within that group will be the one to do so.
As you probably tell, this blog is focused on learning the names of the plants that I have seen here in Panama, mostly in the wild. If I were to try to grow the sandpaper vine myself, I’d probably locate it growing in the wild someplace, take a cutting and try rooting it. Whatever happens in your search for the vine and the dwarf fruit trees, I wish you plenty of luck!
Mary