What’s in a Name? Part the First

Always an interesting discussion. I am intrigued by the plants that are named after particular persons. Did the namer honor a fellow plantsperson, a spouse or did they build their ego and name it for theirself. There has been alot of talk in the trade about whether latin names intimidate 20-30 somethings while they shop. Where I work we make sure that the common name is the one spotted first, but all tags and informational signs have the botanical name right under or next to the common. I don’t trust companies that will not use botanical names at all.

Yep, it’s a challenge to try to hit all levels, providing enough information for those who care but not so much to overwhelm those who just want something pretty for their yard.

And I agree about the people-named plants. Each is a whole story in itself.
-Nan

Hi Nan, you lost me with the soil names, HA, but the plant names are beloved. A book of gardener’s latin, a gift from a dear friend, makes sense of the whole thing, must reading for serious gardener’s who want to know what they are saying in those names. I have to laugh at the Prunella too, just shows even Linnaeus was human. BTW, we have that plant here and absolutely love it. It will grow where hardly nothing else will, the old gravel driveway. I love the flowers, evergreen foliage and ease of care, none! Chiltern’s skinny catalog is a treaure.
Frances

Hah – “ease of care”: isn’t that the definition of a weed? Well, you’re not alone in liking the prunella; I have seen some for sale that look interesting and almost tempting enough to try. But the species is a nuisance for me here, and the boys don’t like it in their pasture, either.
-Nan

Hi Nan! Thanks for the post on nomenclature. I love plant names and am really frustrated by nurseries that don’t use them and when I loose a tag in my own garden before I’ve learned a plant’s correct name! I’m happy to say I left all my unnamed plants in Pennsylvania (I had a dog who loved playing with those little white toys I stuck everywhere in the garden). I’m trying hard to keep track of everything down here in Maryland! BTW, your post prompted me to check on my Antirrhinum braun-blanquetii. It’s still where I planted it and has been evergreen this winter! Barbara

Oh, yes – I forgot to mention that in the January Design Workshop: the value of plant labels as dog toys.

Thanks for the update on your Antirrhinum – that’s great news!
-Nan

Better yet, have a paper and pen and write the common name and its taxonomy name so that you have a ready reference that is handy for you. This works for me especially when I’m buying at the store for some seeds or when I’m having a conversation with a fellow gardener as well. Kinda weird though but it works all the time. God bless.

Not weird, Greenfingers! A “cheat sheet” can be very handy. One problem, though, is customers using uncommon common names. My mom, for instance, knows some botanical names, but she uses only common names to tease me. And the names she uses are those she and her siblings made up as kids to describe where they saw the plants growing. So I’ve learned that, in her world, “graveyard plant” refers to upright sedums and “coal-bucket plants” are portulacas. Doesn’t help me much in the real world, though.
-Nan

I love the latin names and regret that even horticulturalists speaking to audiences dominated by professionals often use confusing common names (that could easily refer to other plants).

This just happened at an otherwise informative and enjoyable native plant seminar I attended in Ithaca.

I sympathize, Elizabeth. But if I were standing in front of a group, I’m not sure I’d be brave enough to attempt pronouncing botanical names either!
-Nan

Great post! One of the things I always think about with botanical names, is that many of us have other interests with specific language that we all learn and just take for granted. Think computers (!), sewing or cooking measurements or ceramics and kilns and cones etc. The young crowd is hip and into all those things so why not plant names, too?

As for the soil, that was fascinating. I know the only two names I need to know: Antigo Silt Loam (the official state soil of Wisconsin) and black earth, the soil around Black Earth, WI where a seed thrown out the window will sprout. A Spring drive through the area will make you drool at the richness of the fields.

Are you sitting down, Linda? ‘Cause taxonomically, your state soil is a Haplic Glossudalf. That’s a really cool name! But I wouldn’t blame you for sticking with Antigo silt loam.
-Nan

Hi Nan
Got here from your recent posting about botanical names.
Just a funny thing: What’s in a name? Reading your photo note at the end of your post the name John Kirkegaard stands out to me as a common Danish name and of course I go on a search. He was the assistant to the director at the Royal Botanical Garden in Copenhagen before he was involved in American forestry and botanical work. For some – maybe most – other readers, it’s just a name.

Hey, how interesting! I’ll have to pull that book off the shelf and read it again to become more familiar with his work.
-Nan