Having waxed lyrical about the wonder display of colour currently being provided by tree blossom and early wildflowers, I did as I said I would by heading out to a local woodland to ensure I was making the most of this natural spectacle while it lasts, writes Erin McDaid, of Nottinghamshire Wildlife Trust.
Having spent an hour or so savouring the blossom and flowers, I came to a slightly shaded section of woodland and happened to glance up at a bank of yellow archangel, an ancient woodland indicator and one of my favourite wildflowers. As I lingered, it wasn’t the striking yellow flowers that made the most impact, but rather the huge variety of different greens I could see resplendent from the woodland floor right up into the tree canopy.
If you were describing a scene to someone and said everything was green, they might envisage a boring block of a single dull colour, but in nature there are so many shades of green that even a monotone palette can have a dramatic impact. The fact there are so many shades of green in nature isn’t just fluke or happenstance. The green colour in leaves comes from pigments, the most important of which is chlorophyll, essential to the process of photosynthesis by which plants convert sunlight into sugars to provide energy for growth. The chlorophyll is held within special cells, called chloroplasts, which act like tiny solar panels — transforming sunlight into food.
With chlorophyll an essential element of plant development and survival, we’ve ended up with a huge diversity of shades as plants have evolved to make the most of the sun’s energy. As well as providing visual diversity, the variety of greens is inextricably linked to the process that sustains life on our planet — with the process of photosynthesis in plants providing most of the oxygen in the air we all breath. Quite simply, photosynthesis is one of the most important processes on our whole planet.
On a purely sensory level, the range of greens is fast approaching its peak, with new leaves emerging and unfurling amongst a myriad of existing hues. Bright, fresh new leaves on deciduous trees and on plants emerging from the soil, now being added to a backdrop of evergreens such as grasses and trees including holly and yew. These new leaves are packed with the vital pigment but over time, whether due to lack of light and water or even too much sunlight, they will start to turn yellow. By autumn, as trees stop replacing the chlorophyll, the gallery of greens will gradually give way to an arresting array of autumnal tones.
The variety of greens doesn’t just exist between plant varieties but within them too. Species such as cuckoo pint or lords and ladies — a plant which has as many names as shades — have many greens across their different parts, including the flowers. In time, the delicate green hood of the flower will provide a muted backdrop to a spike of bright orange berries. Whilst we often associate flowers with a wider range of colours, a surprising number of plants, including most grasses, have green flowers — as do many tree species including field maple and small-leaved lime.
The yellow archangel, the plant that took my eye whilst on my walk, adds another dimension to the display because sections of its leaves have no chlorophyll at all — making them look extremely pale green or even white. In botany and horticulture this feature is known a variegation, with the yellow archangel sometimes known as variegated archangel.
Whilst we know that time spent in natural green spaces is beneficial to our health and that green can be a calming colour even indoors, the reasons why are still being unpicked. There must be an element relating the fact we all evolved in nature and feel an innate sense of connection, but I wonder if at some visceral level we understand the role that plants, which are for the most part green, play in sustaining our very existence.
