Archives: Book Reviews

In most of the sciences, major research is restricted to those who have earned higher level academic degrees.  However in botany, especially in the 19^th and the early 20^th century, there were still opportunities for keen and devoted amateurs to make major contributions to advance the science.

Catherine “Kate” Furbish (1834-1931) was one such botanist.  She did not have a college degree, but was a careful observer of plants and their component parts.  She also recognized the need for a more comprehensive flora of her home state of Maine.

An avid reader of works by professional botanists, she learned many of their techniques, including the practice of creating herbarium specimens.  During her long life, she developed a collection of over 8,000 specimens that are now preserved at institutions in New England.

Furbish brought other important talents to the study of native plants – she was a skilled illustration and a stickler for accuracy, creating over 1,300 detailed and meticulous watercolor illustrations of the Maine flora.  These were donated to Bowdoin College in her hometown of Brunswick, Maine and have been beautifully reproduced at full scale in the 2016 two-volume set “Plants and Flowers of Maine.”  This work includes an extensive biographical introduction by Melissa Dow Cullina, at the time Director of Education for the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens.

Furbish’s life is also profiled in a 1995 book by Ada Graham and Frank Graham, Jr., “Kate Furbish and the Flora of Maine.”  This is a fascinating read, as in addition to botanical work, Furbish was an avid traveler and had many other interests – challenging for a single woman during this period, but telling of her strong sense of purpose.

An example of this drive can be found in a speech (quoted in the Grahams’ book) that she gave in 1883.  In a wet ravine in what is now Acadia National Park, she described how “the earth gave way burying me to my waist.”  In this she felt fortunate, as the alternative was falling into the ravine.  She continued her narrative with, “I rested, planned and finally extricated myself, secured the tools, climbed the bank, went on my way, found the pond, brought away a new Sedge, and after eleven hours’ absence reached home in safety.”

Reviewed by: Brian Thompson on December 2, 2024

Excerpted from the Winter 2025 issue of the Arboretum Bulletin

Caroline “Carrie” Dormon (1888-1971) had a very productive and wide-ranging life as author and illustrator as told in “The Gift of the Wild Things” by Fran Holman Johnson.

Although she had other strong interests, most of her work focused in some way on plants, especially in their conservation or promotion to gardeners.  She was instrumental in establishing the Kisatchie National Forest and was effective at educating the public, especially children, on the value of forest ecosystems.  She accomplished these goals in part as the first woman to work in the Forestry Division in Louisiana, an achievement that reflected her determination and considerable political savvy.

She was also an adept botanical illustrator.  According to Holman Johnson, she could be fanatical.  She insisted on painting from nature, and if the condition and lighting of her subjects were ideal, she would remain at her work, mindless of anything else.  “The majority of Carrie’s paintings were of flowers and shrubs and trees…a skillful combination of correct botany and colored charm.”

While Dormon was interested in native plantings across the United States, it is clear that she especially loves the plants of her native Louisiana.  These include trees such as the Longleaf Pine (Pinus palustris) which she describes as “nothing is more beautiful,” and Magnolia grandiflora (“should be crowned queen of trees”).

Louisiana irises were a special interest.  This complex of several species is native through much of the southeast United States but with the greatest concentration in their eponymic state’s wetlands.  Hybrids between the species have one of the widest range of colors of any iris group, but were essentially unknown in horticulture before the work of Dormon and few others.

She planted many at her garden in northern Louisiana and distributed them to friends elsewhere in an effort to understand their best growing conditions.  She also introduced hybrids, winning six Mary Swords DeBaillon Awards between 1948-1958, the top honor of that era from the Society for Louisiana Irises.

Reviewed by: Brian Thompson on December 2, 2024

Excerpted from the Winter 2025 issue of the Arboretum Bulletin

Caroline “Carrie” Dormon (1888-1971) had a very productive and wide-ranging life as author and illustrator.  Many examples of this skillful combination can be found in Dormon’s 1934 book, “Wild Flowers of Louisiana.”

While Dormon was interested in native plantings across the United States, it is clear that she especially loves the plants of her native Louisiana.  These include trees such as the Longleaf Pine (Pinus palustris) which she describes as “nothing is more beautiful,” and Magnolia grandiflora (“should be crowned queen of trees”).

Although she had other strong interests, most of her work focused in some way on plants, especially in their conservation or promotion to gardeners.  She was instrumental in establishing the Kisatchie National Forest and was effective at educating the public, especially children, on the value of forest ecosystems.  She accomplished these goals in part as the first woman to work in the Forestry Division in Louisiana, an achievement that reflected her determination and considerable political savvy.

She was also an adept botanical illustrator.  According to her biographer, Fran Holman, in “The Gift of the Wild Things,” she could be fanatical.  She insisted on painting from nature, and if the condition and lighting of her subjects were ideal, she would remain at her work, mindless of anything else.  Holman writes, “the majority of Carrie’s paintings were of flowers and shrubs and trees…a skillful combination of correct botany and colored charm.”

Louisiana irises were a special interest.  This complex of several species is native through much of the southeast United States but with the greatest concentration in their eponymic state’s wetlands.  Hybrids between the species have one of the widest range of colors of any iris group, but were essentially unknown in horticulture before the work of Dormon and few others.

She planted many at her garden in northern Louisiana and distributed them to friends elsewhere in an effort to understand their best growing conditions.  She also introduced hybrids, winning six Mary Swords DeBaillon Awards between 1948-1958, the top honor of that era from the Society for Louisiana Irises.

Reviewed by: Brian Thompson on December 2, 2024

Excerpted from the Winter 2025 issue of the Arboretum Bulletin

“Natives Preferred” would be an appropriate title for many of the recent books advocating the use of native plants in our gardens.  However, this book was from 60 years ago, near the end of the very productive and wide-ranging life of author and illustrator Caroline “Carrie” Dormon (1888-1971).

While Dormon provides useful suggestions for native plantings across the United States, it is clear that she especially loves the plants of her native Louisiana.  These include trees such as the Longleaf Pine (Pinus palustris) which she describes as “nothing is more beautiful,” and Magnolia grandiflora (“should be crowned queen of trees”).

Although she had other strong interests, most of her work focused in some way on plants, especially in their conservation or promotion to gardeners.  She was instrumental in establishing the Kisatchie National Forest and was effective at educating the public, especially children, on the value of forest ecosystems.  She accomplished these goals in part as the first woman to work in the Forestry Division in Louisiana, an achievement that reflected her determination and considerable political savvy.

She was also an adept botanical illustrator.  According to her biographer, Fran Holman, in “The Gift of the Wild Things,” she could be fanatical.  She insisted on painting from nature, and if the condition and lighting of her subjects were ideal, she would remain at her work, mindless of anything else.  Holman writes, “the majority of Carrie’s paintings were of flowers and shrubs and trees…a skillful combination of correct botany and colored charm.”  Many examples of this skillful combination can be found in Dormon’s 1934 book, “Wild Flowers of Louisiana.”

Louisiana irises were a special interest.  This complex of several species is native through much of the southeast United States but with the greatest concentration in their eponymic state’s wetlands.  Hybrids between the species have one of the widest range of colors of any iris group, but were essentially unknown in horticulture before the work of Dormon and few others.

She planted many at her garden in northern Louisiana and distributed them to friends elsewhere in an effort to understand their best growing conditions.  She also introduced hybrids, winning six Mary Swords DeBaillon Awards between 1948-1958, the top honor of that era from the Society for Louisiana Irises.

Reviewed by: Brian Thompson on December 2, 2024

Excerpted from the Winter 2025 issue of the Arboretum Bulletin

How does a nation celebrate its native trees?  The Irish Society of Botanical Artists answers this with superb illustrations in “Crainn na hÉireann” (Ireland’s Native Trees), a luscious book to be celebrated for the quality of its art.  But there is an important lesson here, too.  Ireland of a thousand years ago had 80% tree coverage – a quite different landscape from today.

As Elaine Moore Mackey, chair of the Society wrote in the introduction, “If we cannot recognise our natives, how can we expect to love them.  And if we do not love and appreciate native trees, we will lose them.”

Included are 22 species of trees.  As 38 artists contributed to this book, this allows there to be several images and perspectives for each.  These include leaves, flowers, fruit, bark, and – for most – a full profile.  The illustrations are without commentary other than brief captions that provide the artist’s name, the tree’s botanical name, its name in English and Irish, and the season of the illustration.  Discrete rulers provide scale.

The commentary is reserved for the introduction, and in a forward by Seamus O’Brien, Head Gardener at the National Botanic Gardens, Kilmacurragh.  O’Brien writes, “Photography is no substitute for botanical art, and the illustration throughout the following pages beautifully highlights the trees of our native landscape, that gladden the heart at every season.”

Reviewed by: Brian Thompson on August 19, 2024

Excerpted from the Fall 2024 issue of the Arboretum Bulletin

When I first flipped through “Street Trees of Seattle”, I had the impression this was a graphic novel style treatment of a field guide.  After a closer look, I realized my failure to appreciate the incredible amount of depth and details provided by the author and illustrator Taha Ebrahimi.

In one sense, this is a collection of neighborhood maps of Seattle indicating significant street trees.  But it is also like a field guide, as each of the trees are identified with drawings and succinct descriptions of distinguishing characteristics.  There is no wasted space; only the most significant features are included allowing a walker, with book in hand, to be certain of recognition.

Throughout there are “deeper digs” that tell the highlights of specimen trees, or their neighborhood, or a snippet of Seattle history.  For those who like facts, this is a gold mine.  The author uses width as the primary measure of size as that proved the most reliable.  Other nuggets include the earliest recorded date for a genus in Seattle, or the total number planted as street trees.  The most numerous?  Maples (Acer) with nearly 37,000, or 22% of the total.

These facts come from the data published in 2020 by Seattle Department of Transportation which Ebrahimi, taking advantage of the lull in society during the height of the Covid pandemic, verified by walking these neighborhoods.  This book does not provide an exhaustive inventory.  Instead, the author concentrated on a single genus in each area, supplemented with a listing of other “notable” street trees.  The impressive list of reference sources highlights the extent of the research.

Ultimately, Ebrahimi hopes all these drawings and facts are just a starting point to encourage readers to get out to walk and really look at their neighborhoods.  Hopefully, this allows you to “make contact with the urban forest, to know the stories that came before us and to connect with a sense of place that data by itself can never capture.”

Reviewed by: Brian Thompson on August 19, 2024

Excerpted from the Fall 2024 issue of the Arboretum Bulletin

A light approach to introducing trees can be found in “Knowing the Trees” by Ken Keffer.  This book is a delightful collection of short anecdotes and observations about North American trees.

These range from how the trees function, to how humans and other creatures interact with them.  A few individual species are highlighted, such as the threats to the longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) or the near elimination of the American chestnut (Castanea dentata), but overall this is a celebration of forests as a whole biome.

Many of the stories are about animals.  A section titled “Litter Critters” highlights the ovenbird, a type of warbler that builds complex nests in the forest duff, or the wood frogs that that survive in leaf litter over winter.  “Evolutionary Anachronism” suggests that the Osage-orange (Maclura pomifera) was likely spread historically by long extinct mastodons.  While that role has been somewhat replaced by horses, the distribution of the tree is now much more restricted.

The illustrations, by Emily Walker, a Seattle native now living in California, are well-suited for the general tenor of the book, providing interpretation for the text.  I think this book’s biggest appeal will be to those that are not especially familiar with trees.  It would make a great holiday gift to that family member you want to get interested in the Arboretum!  Keffer is talented at invoking a scene:

“Jumping in a pile of leaves is a time-honored tradition.  As leaves pile up like confetti on the ground, though, don’t feel pressured to rake them all up.”  The author goes on to explain the advantage of leaving at least some leaves, concluding, “after you enjoy nature’s fall fireworks display, save your back and your backyard by leaving the leaves.”

Reviewed by: Brian Thompson on August 19, 2024

Excerpted from the Fall 2024 issue of the Arboretum Bulletin

“Twelve Trees” focuses on rare and mostly endangered tree species.  As suggested by the title, author Daniel Lewis has written essays on a dozen tree species from around the world with a focus not only on their botanical qualities and ecological role, but also their importance to human culture.

Each chapter begins with a stylized image of its subject by Eric Nyquist, but otherwise there are no illustrations.  Fortunately, Lewis is a talented writer.  “I’ve chosen twelve trees that have been on long journeys, have many accomplices as well as enemies, and need our help to survive.”  This last part is key, as several of the trees are at risk due to human interference, including climate change.

Some of the twelve trees will be quite familiar, such as the coast redwoods (Sequoia sempervirens).  Others, such as the gigantic ceiba (Ceiba pentandra) of Central and South America, may be new to readers.  New to me was the toromiro (Sophora toromiro), a small tree that is no longer found on its native island of Rapa Nui, also known as Easter Island, although there are efforts to restore it.  One chapter even profiles an extinct tree, Humenaea protera, that is the source of much of the world’s amber or fossilized resin.

Animals associated with the featured trees are an important component of these stories.  The giant harpy eagle nests in ceiba trees.  The Clark’s nutcracker helps spread seeds of bristlecone pines (Pinus longaeva).  African elephants are a threat to baobab trees (Adansonia digitata), destroying them to find a source of water in a drying climate.

Only one of the featured trees is a major food source for humans: the olive tree (Olea europaea).  This has been an essential agricultural crop for at least 3,000 years.  Even the English word “oil” is derived from the Greek word for olive oil.  The process to ensure good quality for consumers involves an intricate process of taste testing.  “It’s a functional food that works across cultural, geographic, and socioeconomic boundaries.”

Reviewed by: Brian Thompson on August 19, 2024

Excerpted from the Fall 2024 issue of the Arboretum Bulletin

“Rare Trees” by Sara Oldfield and Malin Rivers is a most sumptuous book!  Filled with excellent photographs, these show both the individual trees and the vistas of the forests they inhabit.  This large book (400 pages) is a pleasure just for leafing through.

But this is much more than a picture book.  The trees are typically rare because of major threats, most caused by humans.  These include clearance for agriculture, unsustainable logging for timber, competition from invasive species, the introduction of new diseases or insect pests, and even plants dug for the nursery trade.  The rarity of each species is indicated by its Red List status, a measure developed by the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN).  Most in this book are in the Critically Endangered, Endangered, or Vulnerable categories.

It’s hard to describe the richness of this book, there is so much to both read and absorb.  The species are primarily grouped by ecosystem or genera, but departing from that structure is an especially interesting chapter based on usage, such as for medicines, edible fruits, or ornamental plantings.  Throughout there are side bars and short essays that expand or highlight the basic facts.  While being very clear on the dangers and dire threats, Oldfield and Rivers also give many examples of ways to address the survival of these rarities, while also preserving and typically enhancing the impact on human livelihoods.

An example is the Brazil nut (Bertholletia excelsa), an immense tree that produces an edible crop popular for snacking around the world.  These trees are not suitable for orchard culture and are found primarily in the Amazon rainforest.  While some measures have been taken to preserve these trees in Brazil and neighboring Bolivia, it is Peru that has developed the most robust management plan.  Traditional collecting rights are protected through concessions established by individual families, and as an additional benefit, nearly 2,000,000 acres of rainforest are protected.

I have played recorders since high school and as an adult have acquired several fine instruments.  Part of their beauty is the wood used in their making.  In a chapter from “Rare Trees” on “Precious Timbers and Music Woods,” I learned much about the biology of the source trees and their history in musical instrument making.

Many are in the genus Dalbergia, the most valuable being D. melanoxylon, known as African blackwood or grenadilla.  In addition to recorders, it is the favored wood for clarinets and oboes, and within its wide native range through much of sub-Sahara Africa, it is a popular choice for sculpture.

The range of the genus extends to the new world where other species are used for musical instruments including recorders.  Examples are cocobolo (D. retusa) from Central America, and Brazilian rosewood (D. nigra), named for the pleasant fragrance it emits after being cut.  This fragrance can linger for years after the instrument is made.

Until recently, these species were numerous enough to meet the demand, but a global rise in using these woods for high-end furniture has put the genus at risk.  The authors describe in detail the efforts by various organizations to develop local and sustainable management of these trees.

The authors also want to engage the readers in preservation.  An epilogue gives several suggestions on how anyone can help, including “visit your local botanic garden or arboretum to find out how they are helping tree conservation – and support them.”  Good advice indeed!

This remarkable book won an Award of Excellence in Plants and Environmental Change from the Council on Botanical and Horticultural Libraries in 2025.

Reviewed by: Brian Thompson on August 19, 2024

Excerpted from the Fall 2024 issue of the Arboretum Bulletin

“The milkweed is a displaced citizen in its own land.  Where once it owned the continent, it’s now a kind of vagrant, occupying the botanical equivalent of homeless encampments.”  With this quote, author Eric Lee-Mäder introduces “The Milkweed Lands.”

This engaging book, richly illustrated by Beverly Duncan, is focused on Asclepius, a genus with over 90 species in North America.  While perhaps most famous as a food source for monarch butterflies, the author expands that perception to see milkweeds as an essential part of many different ecosystems.

This story begins with the winter blizzards of the northern prairie ecosystem of the United States and Canada.  Underneath the snow an incredible amount of life continues.  This includes the roots of the milkweeds and the various insects, fungi, small mammals and other creatures surviving and even thriving.  Exploring this world down to the cellular level, this could be heavy-going, but Lee-Mäder has a light touch, making these complex scientific principles quite easy to understand.

The story continues into the other seasons, in part featuring restoration efforts in California’s Central Valley.  Here hedgerows often shelter Asclepius species that have been eliminated on the adjacent farmlands or orchards for their weedy qualities.  Other plants and animals, often also deplored by humans, find their homes here, too.

Reviewed by: Brian Thompson on May 20, 2024

Excerpted from the Summer 2024 issue of the Arboretum Bulletin