Natures Notebook

In the Air Tonight

Cloaked in the velvet of midnight, he glides forward, silently following, always seeking her luscious scent. The searcher prowls the lowland forests and wetlands amid a cacophony of fragrances. Musk, earth, leaves, and flowers all mingle in a heady, organic cocktail. When a lingering trace of her essence is perceived, he reverses course toward the east. Nearing the shore, the forest becomes a tangle of Mangrove trees as he weaves a tapestry of desire through the aerial root labyrinth. Reaching the coast, he is briefly distracted as the sea births a full moon, dripping in luminescence. She will now be visible to him in the Moon’s pale glow.

The geographical and spiritual heart of the Yucatan Peninsula is Chichén Itzá. The abandoned city is dominated by the Temple of Kukulcán named for the feathered serpent deity worshipped by the Mayan people. During both the Autumnal and Vernal equinoxes, a shadow is cast by the nine steps of the pyramid onto the raised northern stairway meeting the stone serpent head carving at the base. The interplay of stone and shadow create the illusion of a massive serpent stretched down the pyramid. What we understand about the Mayans has survived the tumult of time in their architecture and artistry.

By the early 1800’s plants were transported from every corner of the earth in ships of wood and canvas. In 1813, a dried, pressed orchid specimen from the Yucatan was delivered to Scottish botanist Robert Brown in London. Brown named the orchid after an Italian physician who lived 300 years before him, Antonio Musa Brassavola, and he promptly filed it away into the collection. Despite his familiarity with the taxonomy of plants, Brown was not likely aware of the special adaptations of this plant to the natural world and its use by indigenous people. In the 20th century, ethnobotanists began to recognize the use of orchids in Mayan iconography indicating their reverence for the plant. Strolling casually, the visitor to Chichén Itzá may be forgiven for not observing the small unassuming plant with the white, spoon-shaped flower and the thin, upturned rapier-like leaves. The plain name of Brassavola nodosa seems a contradiction to the Mayan splendor of the city. Most often, rather than the ill-suited scientific name, we call her the “Lady of the Night.” This lady is special. She has a fragrance that can be turned off during the day and turned on at night. Her flower of pure white is planned to allow pollinating suitors to find her in dim light.

He can fly long distances and he can also hover. His antenna is perfectly designed to collect the fragrance packets known as pheromones floating in the air. Like a radio direction finder, he can triangulate on the source of her perfume. He has keen, owlish eyesight at night, and is known to be a handsome, if rakish character. While the Sphinx Moth is a rock star of the moth world, it is unclear what he perceives the fragrance to be.

Humans recognize the scent of the lady to be gardenia-like and citrusy. We don’t need specialized organs other than our large mammalian brain, which excels at the abstraction of directions. While our rather average eyesight protects us from danger, our remarkable ability to distinguish more than 1 trillion scents will guide us. On a warm summer evening after sunset, seek the South entrance to Coquina. Look for the palm tree left of the sidewalk and use your receptors to find the flowering Orchid. Can you feel it in the air tonight?