THE BLUE POPPY.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 20448, 30 June 1928, Page 3

THE BLUE POPPY.

The blue poppy (Meconopsis Wallichii) has, in the last two or. three seasons, found its way into Dunedin gardens, and were it for >ts foliage alone it is a plant which commands admiration. But when it throws up its great flower stalk and the fine blue flowers are displayed it is a wonderful attraction. Our gardening readers will bo interested in the following article by one of the great plant collectors of the day, in which the harsh conditions under wliich it grows are graphically described. HUNTING THE BLUE POPPY. By Kingdon VVabd, F.R.G.S. So accustomed are we to the flaming scarlet of the Oriental poppy, or the English corn poppy, that the idea of a blue poppy is often regarded as a vain quest. Moreover, it sounds as revolutionary as a blue rose. We are accustomed to” roses of almost any colour, except blue, and are by no means sure that we want a blue rose, or that wc should like it if we got it. Yet botanists have been acquainted with blue poppies for nigh a century, and for 15 years they have been grown in a- few English gardens. But it is only recently that they have become established, and five years have not elapsed since there was introduced into Britain the Tibetan blue poppy, which promises to become a common garden plant all over tlio country. Hence has grown up the legend of a mystic and elusive flower hidden in the cold heart of Tibet: whereas there are au least a.dozen different blue poppies known to botanists. It mav also oa noted that all “ blue poppies ” are not blue. That is to say, of the 50 known species of the genus, some have yellow flowers, a few have red flowers, but the majority are blue, sometimes dark blue or violet, and quite often sky blue. LOVERS OF THE WILDERNESS. These flowers are entirely confined to the Himalaya, far-western China, and the associated ranges of Tibet. This region is itself remote enough; and, to crown all, the blue poppies flourish in the_ most harsh and secluded corners of the highest ranges, some of them growing at an altitude of 17,000 ft. Here, amidst a repellent wilderness of rock and snow, they fly the sky-blue banner over a kingdom which is peculiarly their own. Hardly any other (lowering plants bravo _ the severs conditions at this great height, and such as do crouch down among the stones,-; Not so the blue poppy. U stands boldly upright; the icy blast, the driving rain, the stabbing heat on a fineday in that thin air, and the long snow ; bound, winter, hold no terrors for it. One variety grows 18in high, with flowers all up the stem. Another variety sends up out of the harsh soil a thin jet of. flowers, like a fountain of blue balls, each nodding on its own wiry stem. Yet it is incredible remote up hero on the roof of thp world, where there is no sound hut the crash of an ice pillar, the roar of a rock avalanche, or the hungry howl of the wind. But not all the blue poppies are found at such extreme heights. Amidst the flower-decked meadows beyond the forest's rim, where clumps of amethyst, ruby, and amber rhododendrons strew the hillsides with jewellery, three are torqnoise poppies which grow six feet high. There is one which shoots up in a leafy column, with an azuro flower leaning out of each leaf axil. Another displays a sheaf of stems almost bidden by a forest of large seagreen leaves, among which the blue flowers flutter like tropica] butterflies. FOUND BY A BOTANICAL EXPLORER. And how, it may be asked, have these glorious flowers, been introduced into England? Not by. the traveller, who would rarely meet with such ally alpines ; nor even by the resident frontier ollicor : or mission#?-,? who is seldom stationed within reach Of them. No, thev have been introduced by the botanical explorer, trained to the job, who alone understands the twin problems which would prevent the layman from being successful. First, a blue poppy in flower and a blue poppy in fruit arc two very different things. Tn the short Himalayan summer. when the face of the mountain is dimly seen through the blanket of mist, the poppi is shine with a cold and ruthless blue like Bengal lights, fair for all to see ; even those which lurk amidst the derelict moraines, aloof and deserted., burn like blue flares against the surround mg grimness. But in the autumn, with the icy breath of an Arctic winter hang ing over the mountains, the scene changes abruptly. Gone are the flowers, nor do the leaves hang on the bushes in scarlet and gold; the first fierce onslaught of the winter wind strips them off. The alpine meadow, which in August grew man-high, is cut down in swathes by the cold. Everything is different; and how, in this immense desolation, which seems to long for sleep, can anyone recognise what was once a blue poppy ? Only by knowing just what change has come over it, and just where, in all this cold waste of mountains, to look for it; and that demands knowledge. practice, and patience. HARVESTING THE SEEDS. And having found it, what ne ; xt? Now, the poppies are biennials, and die after flowering. Clearly, then, it is no us© trying to transport live plants to England. The only way is- to transport seeds. And herein lies the second difficulty. In order to face the long jou:ney through the tropics, and retain their vitality to germinate, tho seeds must above all else be quite ripe; if one collects the seed too early it will not be ripe; if one waits too long, either the seed will be scattered, or the plants will be buried beneath tho snow and last forever. It is here that the judgment of the expert comes in. He cannot, of course, tell when the first snow will come. The short autumn days are gorgeously fine; the nights, beneath the star-diced dome, bitterly cold. The mountain streams, which have brawled and raged all through the summer, are reduced to trickles glazed with ice. And then one night the wind shifts, the sky becomes overcast, and softly the snow begins to hide the world of mountains under a quilt ; not for six months will the quilt lift. In that brief pause between the end of the rainy season and tho coming of the snow, the plant hunter must snatch the ripe «eeds of his blue poppies, and of other alpine flowers which he has discovered. These must be dried slowly apd evenly—sudden or too-great heat would render them useless—packed in envelopes, labelled and despatched to England as quickly as possible. All this, and much more, is done, that these wonderful flowers, which for untold ages have bloomed unseen in the waste places of the earth, may be enjoyed by everybody