It’s strange to think we probably owe our existence to ferns, writes Elly West, who ponders on the prehistoric plants we can include in our gardens to connect with our planet’s history
I have one border in my garden where the dreaded weed known as ‘horsetail’ is an issue. This border is supposed to be a cottage-style combination of lavender and Mexican daisies (Erigeron), both of which I love, but I also have a constant battle pulling out the roguish stems of this unwelcome weed, popping up between the other plants. When I see its weird, jointed stems and feathery leaves, I get my pointy trowel and try to get them out along with at least some of the root, although rumour has it these can run up to two metres deep, but they usually snap off and continue to pop up as soon as my back is turned all through the summer.
It’s got a strange, prehistoric look about it, slightly alien, and certainly doesn’t fit with the floral, pastel look I’m trying to achieve. This is a tough plant with extreme survival skills, so perhaps it’s not a huge surprise (although still fairly mind-blowing) that it’s been roaming the planet for over 100 million years, perhaps once providing a tasty snack for triceratops and other dinosaurs.
This gets me thinking about other prehistoric plants and their place in our modern gardens. On the other side of my garden in the shade is a beautiful tree fern and some other smaller ferns, which I’m perfectly happy with, and I’ve recently been asked to design a few gardens with ‘architectural’ planting, rather than frothy flowers, many of which have that jungly, tropical, prehistoric feel. Cycads, ferns, gunnera, tree ferns, monkey puzzle trees, conifers and Gingko biloba can all be found in gardens today, and are examples of ‘living fossils’ that have been around for millenia.
Ferns are some of the earliest plants we know of, going back 350 million years or more and pre-dating dinosaurs by around 100 million years, helping to make the oxygen that other creatures needed for survival and evolution. Strange to think we probably owe our existence to ferns. There are an estimated 15,000 species, and new ones are still being found in unexplored tropical areas. They are unique in that they do not produce flowers and seeds to propagate, but instead have spores on the undersides of their leaves. In the garden, ferns are useful for providing textural ground cover in shady areas. Varieties such as shield ferns (Polystichum) and Dryopteris will cope well with both shade and dry soil, so are great for tricky spots under evergreen and deciduous trees. Others such as hart’s tongue ferns and Athyriums prefer damper conditions. Ferns are especially beautiful in spring, in my opinion, when they start to unfurl and spread out their leaves from tightly curled whorls.
Triassic trees
Conifers are found in many gardens and are among the oldest living tree species, flourishing in the Triassic period over 200 million years ago, long before many other plants evolved. These also have an interesting way of reproducing, with most having cones rather than flowers. Conifers are an example of extreme adaption for survival, enabling them to grow at high altitudes and extreme low temperatures. Thick bark protects them from the cold, waxy needles help to prevent water loss and the tough pine cones protect the seeds in harsh winters. Conifers vary in size from less than a metre tall, to the giant redwoods, Sequoia sempervirens, of which the world’s tallest known tree in California was last measured in 2019 at nearly 120 metres in height.
Another fascinating ancient tree is the aforementioned Gingko biloba. I first came across this special tree at Kew Gardens when I lived in west London, having vaguely been aware of gingko as a health supplement, without ever having paid much attention to its origins. Commonly known as the ‘maidenhair’ tree, it was one of the first trees planted at Kew in 1762, just three years after the botanic gardens were established, and is a seasonal show stopper when the leaves turn golden yellow in autumn.
Fossils of Ginkgo leaves have been found to date back more than 200 million years, and are almost identical to the leaves of today. It’s the only living connection between ferns and conifers, and scientifically unique in that it’s the only member of its genus (Ginkgo), which is the only genus in its family (Ginkgoaceae), which is the only family in its order (Ginkgoales), which is the only order in its subclass (Ginkgoidae). In layman’s terms, it’s a total loner with its own branch of evolution, and no relatives to speak of. Ginkgo is an endangered species, and although there are many in cultivation throughout the world and in modern gardens, very few grow wild – these are mainly found in China.
Most cultivated species are male, as the female trees produce seeds that are encased in a fruit that smells revolting, described as being similar to rotten camembert, and thought to have evolved to attract carnivorous animals. Interestingly, Ginkgo were the first trees to begin growing again after the atomic attack on Hiroshima. Six survived the bombing and are still going strong today, and seeds from these surviving trees are now being grown around the world as part of a project that distributes them to public spaces as symbols of peace.
Adding prehistoric plants to your garden isn’t just about aesthetics, it’s about connecting with our planet’s history (horsetail weed aside). Ancient species are resilient, adaptable and often require minimal maintenance. Their striking forms and bold silhouettes can create a dramatic and exotic atmosphere, reminding us of nature’s incredible endurance and adaptability.
ellyswellies.co.uk
Plant of the month: Tree fern
It’s around this time of year when I start to anticipate the new fronds of my tree fern (Dicksonia antarctica) unrolling from the crown of the plant, where they have been neatly snuggled.
I always think they look a bit like monkey arms with their soft auburn fur, before they slowly roll out to form a majestic, wide-spreading canopy. Tree ferns are often bought as stumps, lying around in a nursery unplanted, as these tough plants can survive without roots, taking in moisture through the crown and trunk.
However, once planted they will put down roots that also aid with water uptake. They do tend to be expensive, mainly because they are so slow growing. The one in my garden has grown by around 30cm in 10 years. But they are well worth the wait, making striking plants for a sheltered shady spot.
In cold winters, consider protecting the crown with a handful of straw and wrapping the trunk with sacking, horticultural fleece or similar. Leave the existing fronds until the new ones start to grow, as these will also help to protect the crown from frost. You can also fold them over and tie in place for ex
