Question: I know that Cyclamen is officially named in Linnaeus’s Species Plantarum, but I am guessing the name’s origin is earlier. Somewhere on the internet, there is a rumor that cave paintings of cyclamen exist, but I have yet to find proof of that. I am planning to do a botanical illustration that draws on historic depictions.

Answer: I also could not find evidence for cave paintings, but the name Cyclamen goes back much farther than Linnaeus’s time. It was Latinized from Greek kyklā́mīnos, and that word has ancient origins in the Greek for circle—probably because of the plant’s round tuber. The plant was introduced to cultivation in Western Europe from its native eastern Mediterranean region. There is supposedly a sculpted cyclamen in a house in Pompeii, but it is hard to recognize any of the plant’s  distinctive characteristics.

There are pre-Linnaean descriptions of the plant from the time of Greek philosopher Theophrastus (third century B.C.E.), and illustrations of it appear in various translations of the Treatise of Plants by Greek physician Dioscorides (who lived in the first century C.E.).

English herbalist John Gerard wrote about it in 1597: “Sow-Bread is called in Greek  Kyklaminos: in Latin,  Tuber terræ, and  Terræ rapum: of Marcellus,  Orbicularis: of Apuleius,  Palalia, Rapum porcinum, and  Terræ malum: in shops,  Cyclamen, Panis porcinus, and  Arthanita: in Italian,  Pan Porcino: in Spanish,  Mazan de Puerco: in High Dutch,  Schweinbrot: in Low Dutch  Uetkins Brot: in French,  Pain de Porceau: in English, Sow-Bread. Pliny calleth the colour of this flower in Latin,  Colossinus color: in English, murrey colour.” Cyclamen’s common name ‘sowbread’ suggests the tubers were eaten by pigs.

The author of A Kid’s Guide to Plants of the Pacific Northwest shares knowledge gleaned from years in the field, working with young people at her outdoor school on Denman Island, British Columbia.  

The book opens with an acknowledgment of the Indigenous peoples of the coast from Alaska to northern California, and the vital relationships that Indigenous people have formed with this land and its plants since time immemorial. The author revisits this topic throughout the book, highlighting Indigenous stewardship of specific plants, from cattail to camas.

Subsequent chapters introduce readers to plant names (Indigenous, common, and scientific), the ethics of gathering, plant families, plant guilds (also known as plant communities), poisonous plants, and invasive plants.

The groundwork in place, Joly presents a dazzling array of plant profiles, arranged seasonally for ease of use. Each profile includes surprising facts about the plant, an activity or recipe to try, and a mix of photographs and sketches that reflect the joy and wonder she and her students feel as they get to know these plants better.

This book is on my gift list for any young person in the region, but it’s not just for kids and families. Anyone who loves plants is likely to be charmed by this book and learn something in the process.