
I'm off for a brief visit to the land of my birth, south of the Equator. Hope to see you all again in 2009.
Image by TahoeSunsets.

Buried in lake sediments on Easter Island are fossil pollen grains. These pollen grains indicate that a now-extinct species of palm tree once grew there. All suggestions as to what it might have looked like are inferred from the similarity of its pollen to that of the giant Chilean wine palm, Jubaea chilensis. The Easter Island palm disappears from the pollen record around the year 1650. Some say its demise is inextricably linked to that of Rapanui, the ancient Easter Island society...
The extinct palm has been named Paschalococos disperta. Some archaeologists have suggested that the palm would have proved most useful to the ancient Easter Islanders. Could they have felled the trees and used their trunks as rollers to help transport those large moai stone statues from the quarry? Perhaps they used the hollowed out trunks as canoes to get to far-off fishing waters. This idea sounds rather romantic, but they probably used reed ships made of totora bulrushes, not hollow palm trunks. It's quite likely that trees were cut down to get at the edible heart of palm... And so the speculation continues. The bottom line is that we don't know exactly why the palms of Easter Island were annihilated. All we know is that a day must have dawned when someone, for whatever reason, decided to cut down the last tree.
With the island completely deforested, societal collapse seemed inevitable. The lack of trees led to severe soil erosion, still apparent to this day. Other species of animals and plants declined, including the toromiro tree, which was saved from extinction when Thor Heyerdahl collected viable seed on his expedition to the island in the mid-20th century. The toromiro was subsequently entered into a breeding program at the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew. If only Paschalococos had been that fortunate. Even modern biotechnology will not resurrect this species - the fossil pollen from the lake beds and empty coconut shells found in caves yielded no DNA whatsoever.
It's winter in the northern hemisphere and Phalaenopsis orchids are literally everywhere. The elegant moth orchid can now be found not only near the register at most garden centres, but also at your local greengrocer, favourite supermarket, and the houseplant section of many large department stores. The single best place to buy an orchid is, of course, from a local orchid nursery. Such orchids are fresh and raised under expert care. Plus, it's always a good idea to support the local hobbyists: they are often talented breeders in their own right, and make exciting and exclusive new crosses available to the community. However, sometimes those sexy Phalaenopsis at the store can be so tempting that you almost don't realize you've got one propped between the corn flakes and fat-free yoghurt, until you're unpacking your trolley at the conveyor belt.
I am not a total orchid snob; those store-bought plants can be rewarding. Indeed, most of them originate from giant nurseries in such places as Taiwan and Florida, where they are bred to be appealing and raised to be vigorous. Problems arise when the plants are delivered to the point of sale - supermarkets are not the best of growing environments, and store attendants tend to give the orchids the same treatment as conventional houseplants. How often have neighbours complained of the mysterious and untimely demise of their latest acquisition, mere weeks after purchase! Well, fret no more, folks! The Electric Orchid Hunter is happy to provide some essential buying tips you should know before succumbing to orchid fever in the produce aisle.
Let's prevent further disillusionment and unwitting cruelty to houseplants. Two final pieces of easy advice that will help you on the road to success with your new moth orchid: