The Nature of Orchids 



hours in the mornino: at midsummer, and as much 

 in the evening, which evidently compensates the 

 disadvantage. In winter certainly there is an 

 ec|ual loss, but then the plants are resting, and 

 they do not mind much. 



Those who picture orchids exposed to the blaze 

 of a tropic sun month after month may wonder 

 how they can keep any life within them, though 

 resting. But it must be noticed that at sunset, 

 after each broiling day, such damp rushes up from 

 the soil that in a few moments every branch is 

 dripping. The rising of the mist on Bornean 

 rivers impressed my imagination curiously. Before 

 the short twilight ends, thin spirals curl upwards 

 on every side. Swiftly they unite. Presently the 

 surface is covered as by a sheet. Every orchid 

 drinks its fill all night to sustain it against the 

 burning hours of day. M. Forget tells me that 

 in parched districts of South America— where 

 indeed it seems strange that plants living on 

 moisture can exist through the heats— fogs, such as 

 may be cut with a knife, roll in from seaward when 

 the sun goes down. They answer the same purpose. 

 It follows that the atmosphere should be saturated 

 by night— especially, perhaps, while orchids are 

 resting. This is not done commonly. 



I have wandered somewhat from my proper 

 II 



