Amaryllis, Early Autumn (3 of 3)

From “The Amaryllis Family” in Illustrated Guide to Lily Culture with Descriptions of All the Known Species and Distinct Varieties, Also a Complete Chapter on Amaryllis (1888) by John Lewis Childs:

“The natural order, Amaryllidaceae, composed of about fifty genera, is a beautiful tribe of plants, and seems to be very generally and very deservedly admired…. Their brilliancy of colors combined with delightful fragrance have excited admiration from the days of Solomon, who called them the Lilies of the Field, to the present time.

“They are all bulbous-rooted, and with but few exceptions, they differ but little in figure and general outline; their flower-spikes are usually one to two feet in height, those of the Doryanthus, and some species of Crinum, however, far exceed that height. In foliage they possess a uniformity of figure which is very singular; in color they vary from white and yellow to deep scarlet and azure blue, some beautifully striped and marked; in fragrance some are delicious, others entirely free….

“Some of the species are natives of the cooler provinces of Europe and Asia; others are found deep-rooted in the burning shores of islands where scarcely a blade of grass interposes itself between them and the torrid rays of a tropical sun. Many are found in the damp and sultry woods of equinoctial America; others are found scattered throughout the states, while another group intermingle with the Ixias and the Gladiolus of Southern Africa….

“It is only to be expected that plants found so widely scattered, and growing under such varied conditions of temperature and soil, should require in many cases, special treatment. We shall notice each of the genera, as they are respectively entitled, estimating their value simply as flowering plants, and their adaptation to the open border, window garden, conservatory and green-house. Some of the genera we should not notice at all, if it were not that there is an earnest and increasing demand for all the information that can be obtained of any plant belonging to this noble family.”

Hello!

This is the last of three posts featuring Amaryllis plants and their flowers from Oakland Cemetery’s Gardens. The first post is Amaryllis, Early Autumn (1 of 3) and the second post is Amaryllis, Early Autumn (2 of 3).

For this post, we’ll take a close look at some of the flowers from a pair of tall Amaryllis — shown in the first three photos in the galleries below — by photographing them from different angles and then diving inside the blossoms.

The first time I photographed these flowers was in 2020, when I identified them as lilies because… well, they looked like lilies to me and I hadn’t yet discovered PlantNet. A couple of years later, I identified them correctly, and remained fascinated by the structures inside the flower.

Let’s, for example, zoom in on this one…

… where you can see that there are two pairs of three anthers each inside the flower. Those toward the front of the flower are lighter in color — almost white — while the three anthers deeper in the blossom’s throat are darker, the color of light brown sugar. In any of the photos where the anthers are visible, you can see the same pattern: three lighter-colored anthers toward the front and three darker-colored anthers toward the back.

These anthers are loosely attached to the ends of six filaments, where even the slightest breeze causes them to wiggle back and forth. That first time I saw them, the movement led me to believe I was looking at grubs or worms until I realized they were part of the flower’s structure. But they do look a little like grubs, don’t they?

Perhaps I spend too much time puzzling about the way flowers are constructed, but I couldn’t help asking my imaginary research assistant ClaudeAI a couple of questions about these (what I thought were incidental) observations: Why does an amaryllis have three light-colored anthers and three dark colored anthers? And: Why do the anthers wiggle like worms?

Claude’s answers were quite long, but here’s part of its answer to the first question about the anther colors:

This dimorphic (two-form) anther coloration in Amaryllis is a real and consistent feature. The three lower/front anthers are typically paler (often whitish or cream-colored) while the three upper/back anthers are usually darker (tan to light brown).

This feature combines with the slightly downward-pointing orientation of the flowers and the arrangement of the stamens to create an organized landing platform for pollinators. The color difference might help make the reproductive structures more visible to approaching pollinators, particularly in low light conditions when these flowers are often visited by moths.

And here’s part of its answer to my question about why the anthers wiggle like worms:

The wobbling movement of the anthers enhances pollen dispersal. When the anthers shake, they release pollen more effectively than if they were rigidly attached. This movement also helps ensure that visiting pollinators get dusted with pollen as the anthers brush against them. The loose attachment allows the anthers to make contact with different parts of a pollinator’s body as it moves around the flower.

Their resemblance to small worms or grubs is particularly interesting from an evolutionary perspective. This might serve as a form of visual attraction for certain pollinators, especially moths and other insects that are attracted to moving prey. The combination of the wiggling motion and grub-like appearance could create what’s called a “dummy pollinator reward” — a visual signal that tricks insects into investigating the flower, thereby facilitating pollination even though there isn’t actually a prey item present.

In other words, the Amaryllis has evolved this way as a pollination strategy — part of which optimizes pollinator attraction and part of which enhances seed dispersal. Plants are so much smarter than I ever imagined!

Thanks for reading and taking a look!