Author: Boyce Tankersley

Boyce Tankersley serves as director of living plant documentation at the Chicago Botanic Garden. His staff’s responsibilities include maintaining records on all aspects of over 2.7 million plants. These aspects include accuracy of inventories, maps, labels, plant purchase order database while also recording phenology (blooming times), carbon storage (carbon sequestration), soils, Image, DNA and Herbarium vouchers and transferring older media images (slides) into digital files. He serves as an advisor to a number of international botanic gardens and arboreta and is active in American Public Gardens Association and Botanic Gardens Conservation International. His hobbies include gardening, archeology, anything related to geophytes (bulbs) and science fiction literature. He holds a Bachelor of Science in Horticulture from NMSU, a Master of Science in Floriculture from TAMU, and a Certificate in Gardening from the Royal Horticultural Society.

Discovery of the Red Fernleaf Peony

As plant collectors, we spend a lot of time and energy researching the flora of the areas we are going to visit. We search out areas of the world where the climate is similar to that of the midwestern United States, and we make lists. Lots of lists.

Massive spreadsheets document travel plans, emergency contacts; high-value germplasm that we hope to find at each of our planned collection locations; and costs: airfare, gasoline in the country, driver wages, botanist guides, food, and lodging. All of this data is condensed into a one-page document that our hosts submit to the national environmental agencies within each country for approval and permits for the trip. Among our goals on plant-collecting trips is to collect seeds to conserve and to look for plants of horticultural interest to display in our collections.

Invariably, some of the treasures we return with are unanticipated. Such was our discovery of a very large population of Paeonia tenuifolia that was unknown to Georgian scientists in the remote and sparsely populated Vashlovani Reserve—a peninsula-shaped area surrounded by Azerbaijan on three sides, containing large rolling hills breaking into badlands—areas so heavily eroded I thought I was in the Badlands of the Dakotas.

We were in search of seeds of unusual bulbs in the Vashlovani Nature Reserve with Peter Zale from Longwood Gardens (the trip organizer), Panyoti Kelaidis from the Denver Botanic Gardens, and Manana Khutsishvili from the Institute of Botany, Ilia State University.

It was one of those breathtakingly beautiful days, with the rolling grasslands backdropped by the snow-covered peaks of the Greater Caucasus Mountain Range. Dirt roads had not been graded in quite a while, and the sun-baked ruts left over from the winter rains gave rise to the trip joke: shaken, not stirred. This was definitely four-wheel-drive country.

One of our target species in this area was Merendera trigyna, a beautiful spring-flowering Colchicum relative with pale pink to white flowers about twice the size of Crocus and blooming about the same time. Our data source was a herbarium voucher on file with the Institute of Botany Herbarium in Tbilisi. Peter had entered the coordinates into the GPS receiver after lunch, and the road seemed to head in the correct direction. A couple of hours later we were on the border with Azerbaijan and the coordinates suggested we needed to cross the border—not a match with the written description of the location on the herbarium voucher.

We continued to skirt the border, and an hour later we found a hilltop that allowed Manana to make a cellphone call back to the herbarium in Tbilisi. Thirty minutes further down the track, on another exceptionally high hill, we learned the coordinate system recorded on the voucher was from a Russian GPS system, not the American system our GPS was programmed for.

By that time it was too late to retrace our steps. In new territory for all of us, we continued on the track paralleling the Azerbaijan border, knowing that eventually it would lead us to a small Georgian town. By this time, it was about 6 p.m., and as we surmounted another rise we were greeted with thousands of fernleaf peony (Paeonia tenuifolia) in full flower. Each flower was the size of a salad plate, and a deep, intense red. Unlike the 8-inch-high representatives of this species in our American collections, the whole population was 2.5 to 3 feet in height, with an equal width. This population was unknown to the Georgian scientific community until we managed to get lost and found it in the process of working our way back home.

Paeonia tenuifolia in the remote and sparsely populated Vashlovani Reserve; the Caucases in the background. — *Paeonia tenuifolia* in the remote and sparsely populated Vashlovani Reserve; the Caucasus Mountains in the background.

A trip is planned for 2019 for the Republic of Georgia. It is timed to collect seeds from this population, as well as the nine other species of peonies native to this floristically rich country. Who knows what unsuspected treasures we will discover next year?

The SciFi Rant

I have been a fan of science fiction since the early days of Star Trek on TV (Yep, I am that old). I think it is one of my strengths, as a scientist, that I have the ability to visualize “out of bounds” solutions. I like to think this open-mindedness has contributed to my successes.

I discovered a love of growing plants and archaeology as a young child on a ranch in West Texas, surrounded by miles of vegetation and peppered with intriguing traces of the people that had lived on the land before I got there.

Coming from a family of modest means, I realized that I did not have the luxury of “discovering myself” at college, and so at 16, I made a short list of possible careers with their pros and cons: growing plants and studying ancient civilizations. Neither career path was going to result in wealth, but that was not a major goal in my life’s plan. (Yes, I have on several occasions wished for time travel to reevaluate the advantages of wealth.) A strong contender was archaeology, but one of the cons was that if I were out of a job, I would not have the skills to grow food to feed my family. Don’t you just love spreadsheets? So growing plants was to be my career—and if I were unemployed, at least I would have the skills needed to grow food for my family.

I soon learned that within the whole plant science field were a number of specializations, not just “growing things”: horticulture, botany, plant taxonomy, plant physiology, plant genetics, agronomy, and plant pathology. Yikes, another decision! Like any good budding scientist, I knew research was in order:

Horticulture is the art and science of growing plants.

Botany is the scientific study of plants, including their physiology, structure, genetics, ecology, distribution, classification, and economic importance.

Plant Taxonomy is the science that finds, identifies, describes, classifies, and names plants.

Plant Physiology is a sub-discipline of botany concerned with the functioning—or physiology—of plants.

Plant Genetics deals with heredity in plants, specifically mechanisms of hereditary transmission and variation of inherited characteristics.

Agronomy is a branch of agriculture dealing with field-crop production and soil management.

Plant Pathology is defined as the study of the organisms and environmental conditions that cause disease in plants, the mechanisms by which this occurs, the interactions between these causal agents and the plant (effects on plant growth, yield and quality), and the methods of managing or controlling plant disease.

Horticulture was the name of the discipline I wanted to specialize in, and that, as radio commentator Paul Harvey used to say, “was the rest of the story.”

So where does the rant about SciFi fit in?

Siting on the couch with my son and watching E.T. the Extra-terrestrial for the umpteenth time, I was dismayed to learn in the director’s cut that the original title had been The Botanist. Now everyone in plant sciences knows that botanists are great folks to share a beer with, but they are lousy at growing plants. If they could grow plants ,they would be horticulturists, not botanists. But I let this one slide, Steven Spielberg is a great guy, and everyone deserves a break sometimes. Besides, in an alien culture, perhaps the two are more closely aligned. (Another example of out-of-the-box thinking!)

Fast forward to The Martian, a real thriller that pushed all of the right buttons in my SciFi loving psyche…except that they described the survivor as a botanist. No self-respecting botanist would know enough about growing plants and their requirements to pull off that feat. Nope, another missed opportunity. Obviously a horticulturist; a botanist would have studied the tubers as they dried up and died. The horticulture field just lost another opportunity to attract the first generation to grow plants on another planet!

ET: A tiny botanist, or maybe something a little more cross-disciplinary? Photograph: Allstar/Cinetext/Universal

Mark Watney may be a biologist, but here he's a horticulturist. Photo via wallpaperscraft.com. — Mark Watney may be a botanist, but here he’s a horticulturist. Photo via wallpaperscraft.com.

The stomach flu earlier this year was a really unpleasant experience, but while channel surfing Netflix last weekend, I came across a SciFi series called The Expanse. Yep, that was me for four days straight—watching a total of 26 episodes—knowing that I was out of it enough to be able to come back in a time of health and catch some details my fevered brain didn’t absorb. (Yes, Netflix was concerned and periodically offered me alternatives, but I was hooked.)

About halfway through the second season, the action shifts to a food production facility featuring solar collectors, greenhouses, and plants grown in hydroponic solution. Vital to survival of our species in space, plants cleanse the air and provide nutrition for space-based operations—NASA has been working on it for at least 40 years. Great scenes, great actor, actually got the technical terminology right…and then they referred to him as a botanist!

My wife, son, and our new puppy came rushing to my bedside—such a cry of anguish they had never heard. They reassured neighbors at the door that everything really was “all right.” Ugh!

A FluorPen is used to measure the chlorophyll fluorescence of Arabidopsis thaliana plants. — John “JC” Carver, a payload integration engineer with NASA Kennedy Space Center’s Test and Operations Support Contract, uses a FluorPen to measure the chlorophyll fluorescence of *Arabidopsis thaliana* plants inside the growth chamber of the Advanced Plant Habitat (APH) Flight Unit No. 1. Half the plants were then harvested.

Dear SciFi movie writers, directors, etc.: In space, plant scientists probably wear many hats, but please note: horticulturists grow plants; botanists study them.

Sunshine and titan arum relatives at the Garden

Sunshine is the latest corpse flower at the Chicago Botanic Garden to bloom.

A member of the Aroid plant family (Araceae) from Sumatra, it has a number of titan arum relatives at the Garden from around the world.

Sunshine the titan arum (Amorphophallus titanum) in the Sensory Garden — Sunshine the titan arum (*Amorphophallus titanum*) in the Sensory Garden

Jack-in-the-Pulpit (Arisaema triphyllum) and Skunk Cabbage (Symplocarpus foetidus) are the two most common Chicago natives in this family. Other relatives hail from continents, regions, countries, and islands. Taxa growing at the Garden have the following native ranges: North America, Northeastern United States and Canada, Japan, Korea, China, Thailand, Russian Far East, Kamchatka Island, Sakalin Island, the Philippines, Indonesia, Sumatra, Sri Lanka, Turkey, Greece, Republic of Georgia, Spain, Italy, India, Nepal, Afghanistan, Tibet, Burma, Himalayan Mountains, Yemen, Mexico, Central America, Panama, Guatemala, Caribbean Islands, South America, Colombia, Peru, South Africa, and Lesotho.

Not only is it widespread, the members are also adapted to a number of environments from hot, humid Sumatra rain forests where Sunshine calls home to cold, temperate deciduous forests, temperate and tropical wetlands, Mediterranean climates, and deserts.

Find caladiums and others as you stroll Brazil in the Garden this summer; visit #CBGSunshine the titan arum outside in the Sensory Garden and stay tuned for a potential bloom!

The Araceae is one of the larger plant families, containing 117 different genera. The Garden features 27 of those genera containing 152 species and cultivars. Our GardenGuide smartphone app features the locations where Sunshine’s family can be seen throughout the Garden. Many are grown ornamentally for their attractive leaf shape (philodendrons, anthuriums) and colorations (elephant ears, caladiums, dieffenbachia, pothos, taro) while others, anthuriums and Calla lilies chief among them, are grown for their attractive flowers. While not all members of the family smell bad—the Calla lily, for instance, has a light citrus fragrance and anthuriums don’t have any fragrance at all—many are real stinkers with common names like Dead Horse Arum, Dead Mouse Arum, and Corpse Flower.

Caladium bicolor 'White Dynasty' — White Dynasty caladium (*Caladium bicolor*) ‘White Dynasty’

Calla lily (Zantedeschia aetiopica) — Calla lily (*Zantedeschia aetiopica*)

Caladium 'Red Flash' — Red Flash elephant ear (*Caladium* ‘Red Flash’)

Most members of the family contain a number of compounds (often including calcium oxylate crystals) in their sap to deter herbivores that illicit a mechanical gag reflex in people. Calcium oxylate crystals look like glass shards on steroids under a microscope and play havoc with the soft tissues of the inside of the mouth, tongue, and throat. The most notable food crop in this family? Taro, or poi. Preparation of the starchy tubers have adapted techniques over the centuries that remove the toxic compounds.

Ready for an Aroid treasure hunt?

Find these titan arum relatives as you stroll the Tropical Greenhouse, where a titan arum leaf is also housed. Can you spot the family resemblance?

Anthurium andraeanum 'White Heart' — Flamingo flower (*Anthurium andraeanum* ‘White Heart’) is a classic anthurium flower of the florist trade in white with a red spadix; find it near the east entrance.

Anthurium x garfieldii — Find Garfield anthurium (*Anthurium* × *garfieldii*) in classical birds’ nest form with a long, thin flowering spathe and a spadix in dark maroon. Photo by horticulturist Wade Wheatley.

Split leaf philodendron or Swiss cheese plant (*Monstera deliciosa*) has a vining habit; it is clambering up the side of the greenhouse sporting large, deeply divided leaves.

Dieffenbachia 'Camouflage' — Its name says it all: Camouflage dumb cane (*Dieffenbachia* ‘Camouflage’) is hidden west of the palm alleé.

Amorphophallus titanum leaves in the Production Greenhouses — *Amorphophallus titanum* leaves in the production greenhouses. Find one in the Tropical Greenhouse, too.

Use Fragrant Plants for a Breathtaking Garden

Fragrance is one of the benefits of a garden that is often overlooked.

Lots of thought is given to plants’ textures, colors, seasonality, sizes—all important visual characteristics without a doubt—but a garden with scents provides a deeper, richer experience by supplementing visual stimuli with olfactory.

Fragrances, like music, often elicit memories, and so this short list of favorite fragrant plants includes a number that I experienced when I was younger. People, places, time—all are recalled with great fondness in a single whiff.

Also among the list are a number of annuals that are perfect for containers, which allow the gardener to move plants into prominence as they reach their peak throughout the season.

Finally, I believe every garden should have a least one rose; and that it should be fragrant. Rosa ‘Mister Lincoln’, with deep velvety red petals and incredible tea rose fragrance, has stood the test of time. Both Honey Perfume™ (Rosa ‘JACarque’) and Rosa ‘Apricot Nectar’ reflect the current desire to combine fragrance with beauty and disease resistance in a hardy shrub rose. The Chicago Peace rose (Rosa ‘Chicago Peace’) earned a place at the top of our list long before we moved to Chicago with its creamy yellow flowers tinged with pink along the edges of the petals and a delicate rose fragrance. My wife would be upset if I didn’t mention her favorite, a David Austin shrub rose by the name of Evelyn (Rosa ‘AUSsaucer’), which bears delicate apricot-to-pink single-to-double quartered flowers—and a wonderful fragrance.

Honey Perfume rose (Rosa 'JACarque') — Honey Perfume™ rose (*Rosa* ‘JACarque’)

Evelyn rose (Rosa 'AUSsaucer') — Evelyn rose (*Rosa* ‘AUSsaucer’)
Photo by Patrick Nouhailler [CC 2.0].

And now, the list:

Honeysuckles are among the most fragrant of garden plants available, but many of the most common are non-native and have begun to “jump the fence” and invade natural areas. Many of the sterile cultivars, unfortunately, are not fragrant, and the species native to the southeastern United States are not reliably hardy (Lonicera sempervirens). Fortunately Lonicera flava—also native to this region—is fragrant. Its yellow-to-orange summer blooms are followed by showy (but inedible) berries in fall.

Lonicera flava honeysuckle is a fragrant and hardy variety. — *Lonicera flava* honeysuckle is a fragrant and hardy variety. Photo via southeasternflora.com.

Tuberose, Polianthes tuberosa, is a nonhardy (for us) bulb from northern Mexico with an intoxicating scent so distinctive it is known simply as “tuberose.” Creamy white flowers on spikes appear from late summer up to frost. Like many fragrant plants, the scent was developed to attract night-flying pollinators and becomes more intense as late afternoon transitions to evening. Tuberose is great in a large container or can be planted in flower beds.

Hosta have long been used by gardeners to fill parts of the garden that are heavily shaded. While they all flower, ‘Royal Standard’ (among others), produces large, white intensely fragrant (in the evening) flowers in late summer.

One of the featured plants from the Garden’s recent Orchid Show, Oncidium Sharry Baby ‘Sweet Fragrance’ is easily grown on a brightly lit windowsill in the home. A relatively small plant maturing at about 6 inches in height, it produces sprays of pinkish red, sweetly fragrant flowers almost year-round. It’s not overpowering.

At the end of the daffodil season, end of May to the beginning of June, a small-statured Narcissus jonquilla fills the garden with delightfully sweet scents. Relatively small in stature, the bright yellow flowers, one to three per stem, are produced above grass-like foliage. Unlike some of the larger leafed cultivars, there is rarely a need to fuss with the foliage as it dies back. Tuck it in among perennials and small shrubs.

Garden stock (Matthiola incana) is another one of those plant groups that for a while, featured size, shape, and color of the flowers at the expense of fragrance. Fortunately the pendulum has swung back and a number of modern cultivars feature fragrance in addition to some really cool colors.

Prairifire crabapple (Malus 'Prairifire') — Prairifire crabapple (*Malus* ‘Prairifire’)

Crabapples bloom here at the Garden, reliably on Mother’s Day, and their fragrance is another one so distinctive as to be given its own name. Malus ‘Prairifire’ is not only fragrant, but is smaller in size—perfectly suited for modern gardens. It features white to pink flowers and showy red fruit in fall.

Paeonia 'Festiva Maxima' — *Paeonia ‘Festiva Maxima’*

The herbaceous peony Festiva Maxima is an old cultivar but its fragrance has earned it a spot in the moving van during every move. White flowers flecked with red have that wonderful peony fragrance. It needs staking and if planted in a crowded location, is susceptible to powdery mildew. Recipes online provide instructions on using the petals to make peony-scented jelly—a very delicate, flavored sweet with a light pink color. Small nectar glands on the sides of the flower buds attract small ants to the plants. The ants don’t pollinate the flowers, but they are important to the dispersal of the seeds later in the year. The seeds feature an elaiosome (fleshy appendage) that the ants strip off and feed upon once they have hauled the seed to their nest—insuring the dispersal of peony seeds. The nectar is simply there to make sure they are around when the seeds are ripe.

Phlox paniculata 'David' — *Phlox paniculata* ‘David’

Many of the garden phlox, Phlox paniculata, feature a vanilla clove fragrance in mid-summer. The cultivar ‘David’ features pure white flowers on disease-resistant foliage. I let it reseed in the garden, and the results are spectacular—the offspring feature light to dark lavender flowers surrounding the white parent.

Nicotiana alata 'Perfume Deep Purple' — *Nicotiana alata* ‘Perfume Deep Purple’

Fragrant tobacco, Nicotiana alata, produces tall spikes of sweetly scented long, tubular white flowers throughout the summer. I let mine reseed underneath the dryer vent, ensuring a return the following year. This plant is great in containers or used as an in-ground annual.

Clove currant (Ribes odoratum) is an underutilized medium-sized shrub with bright yellow flowers with, you guessed it, the scent of cloves. This is a great plant as a mounded specimen or can be utilized as a hedge.

Butterfly bushes are another of the “must have” sweetly scented garden plants. Like others on this list, the cultivars I grew up with have developed a bad habit of “jumping the fence” and invading natural areas. Plant breeders have risen to the challenge and produced a number of sterile hybrids. Lo & Behold Blue Chip is smaller in stature with lavender-to-blue flowers with the classic fragrance. Asian Moon is a larger growing cultivar with deep purple petals surrounding the orange throat and a rich, sweet fragrance.

Pineapple sage, Salvia elegans, is a classic selection for a “brush against” plant for a location near a walkway or door. Dill, parsley, basil, thyme, rosemary, scented geraniums, and many other herbs can be selected to add their notes to the garden, depending on the gardener’s tastes.

Heliotrope arborescens — *Heliotropium arborescens*

Heliotrope, Heliotropium arborescens, rounds out the favorites list. Deep purple flower clusters add a wonderfully sweet scent to the landscape and work out well in containers or in-ground locations.

Plant Collecting in the Republic of Georgia

This past summer, the Chicago Botanic Garden joined an intrepid team of plant collectors from four other American institutions on an expedition to the Republic of Georgia.

Our focus: to collect seeds to diversify the genetic diversity of ex-situ plant collections; to bring back and evaluate species for their ornamental potential; and to provide a hedge against natural and man-made disasters—all while building upon institutional collaborations developed during previous expeditions.

The PCC16-Georgia group poses at the Old Omalo Guest House in the Tusheti Region, Georgia. From left to right: Joe Meny (US National Arboretum), Peter Zale (Longwood Gardens), Boyce Tankersley (Chicago Botanic Garden), Vince Marrocco (Morris Arboretum), Koba (owner of Old Omalo Guest House/Hotel Tusheti), Matt Lobdell (The Morton Arboretum), Temuri Siukaev (driver), Koba’s daughter, Constantine Zagareishvili (driver), Manana Khutsishvili (botanist), David Chelidze (botanist)

Map showing the location of the Republic of Georgia. — Just east of the Black Sea is the Republic of Georgia. Map courtesy worldatlas.

The Republic of Georgia was chosen because it is the only biodiversity hotspot that is situated within the temperate climatic zones.

Over millennia, the high peaks of the Greater Caucasus Mountains to the north, Lesser Caucasus Mountains to the south, and their inter-connecting mountain ranges situated between the Black Sea to the west and Caspian Sea to the east have provided a refuge for species that have gone extinct elsewhere due to glaciation and other climate extremes.

Tucked into hundreds of microclimates created by this varied topography, many of these endemic species (found nowhere else on earth) are perfectly hardy in American, Russian, and European gardens much farther north.

Coordinating the trip on the Georgian side were our colleagues from the Institute of Botany, Tbilisi and Bakuriani Alpine Botanical Garden. They provided invaluable logistical support through the use of two of the foremost botanists in the region, drivers, vehicles, and places to stay.

The varied topography of the Tusheti Region.

Bakuriani Alpine Botanical Garden, Institute of Botany, and American collectors at Bakuriani Field Station. — Bakuriani Alpine Botanical Garden, Institute of Botany, and American collectors at Bakuriani Field Station

In a little more than two weeks in the field, the group traveled more than 1,100 miles from the high—and barely accessible—Greater Caucasus Mountains of the Tusheti region in northeastern Georgia, through the central valleys, to Lake Tabatskuri in the Lesser Caucasus Mountains in the south, between the Tetrobi Reserve and Bakuriani Alpine Botanical Garden.

The central valley separating the Greater and Lesser Caucasus mountain ranges. — The central valley separating the Greater and Lesser Caucasus mountain ranges

Lake Tabatskuri is situated between the Tetrobi Reserve and Bakuriani Alpine Botanical Garden; the Lesser Caucasus mountain peaks are in the distance.

The geographic location of Georgia (Russia to the north, Central Asia to the east, Persia to the south and Asia Minor, the Middle East, and Europe to the west) has made this region a favorite transit point for merchants. Tucked into remote mountain valleys are small communities created from the descendants of Greeks, Germans, Hebrews, Persians, Armenians, Turks, Russians, Circassians, Huns, Mongols, and more, with remnants of each people’s own unique culinary, religious and linguistic traditions.

It was also, unfortunately, a thoroughfare for invading armies. Ancient fortifications, places of worship, homes—all show evidence of destruction and rebuilding.

Samshvilde Fortress ruins. — Samshvilde Fortress ruins

Fortified towers are a typical feature of many homes in the Greater Caucasus mountains.

Church of St. George. — Church of St. George

The collections wrapped up with a foray into western Georgia (ancient Colchis in Greek mythology) in and around Kutaisi, the legislative capital and its third largest city. A brief visit to the Kutaisi Botanical Garden was in order here, before we left the region. A highlight: a small shrine built inside a living 450-year-old oak.

In all, 205 different seed lots and herbarium vouchers—representing 169 different species of trees, shrubs, perennials, and bulbs—were collected, including six of seven species of Quercus (oaks) in support of the IUCN Redlist of all of the Quercus in the world.

Religious shrine built inside a 450-year-old Quercus hartwissiana at Kutaisi Botanical Garden. — A religious shrine is built inside this 450-year-old *Quercus hartwissiana* at Kutaisi Botanical Garden.

What a haul! Seed collectors admire hundreds of seed collections to be cleaned. — What a haul! Admiring hundreds of seed collections to be cleaned are (left to right): Dr. Fritz, Dr. Tatyana Shulina (Garden consultant), Dr. Manana Khutsishvili (lead Georgian botanist) and Dr. Marina Eristavi (botanist on a former trip).

While we each came away with a fantastic collection of seed to propagate, this trip was about much more than collecting plants. Our journey’s end featured a meeting with representatives of institutions from America, Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Georgia all focused on expanding collaboration to match areas of expertise with areas of need—not only in the area of collections, but also horticulture, conservation science, education, and fundraising/collaborative grants.

The Caucasus Regional Meeting Participants pose on balcony at the of Institute of Botany. The ancient Narikala Fortress of Tbilisi is in the background. — The Caucasus Regional Meeting participants pose on balcony at the of Institute of Botany. The ancient Narikala Fortress of Tbilisi is in the background.

Left to right: Dr. Marine Eristavi, conservation scientist, National Botanical Garden of Georgia, Dr. Tinatin Barblishvili, deputy director, National Botanical Garden of Georgia, Dr. Lamara Aieshvili, curator of rare and endemic plants of Georgia ex situ collection, National Botanical Garden of Georgia, Vince Marrocco, horticulture director, Morris Arboretum, Dr. Manana Khutsishvili, botanist, Institute of Botany, Tbilisi, Dr. Peter Zale, curator and plant breeder at Longwood Gardens, Matt Lobdell curator of The Morton Arboretum, Dr. Fritz, Dr. Tatyana Shulkina, former curator of the living collections of the Soviet Union, Komarov Botanical Garden and currently Chicago Botanic Garden consultant, Dr. Rashad Selimov, head of education, Institute of Botany Azerbaijan Academy of Sciences, Baku, Joe Meny from the US National Arboretum, Dr. Vahid Farzaliyev, National Botanical Garden Azerbaijan Academy of Sciences, Baku, Boyce Tankersley director of living plant documentation at the Chicago Botanic Garden, Dr. Shalva Sikharulidze, director of Institute of Botany, Georgia and Bakuriani Alpine Botanical Garden, Dr. George Fayvush, Department of Geo-botany Armenian Academy of Sciences, Yerevan, Dr. Zhirayr Vardanyan director of the Institute of Botany and National Botanical Garden Armenian Academy of Sciences Yerevan

What can we expect from our efforts? New blooms in the Garden! We have added quite a few plants to those brought back from Georgia on three previous trips:

Iris iberica ssp. Elegantissima — *Iris iberica* ssp. *elegantissima*

Stay tuned! Invitations have been received from institutions in Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Georgia for future plant collecting trips to the region. Likewise, scientists from these countries were invited to collect American native plants to increase the biodiversity of their ex-situ collections.