I know this will show my age, but I, and, I think most of you in our garden club (unless you are one of the people who are never older than 25), had to learn Latin at school, or at least endure a year of it.
I don't know about you, but I hated Latin! And I grew up in England so they were pretty serious about learning this 'dead' language. But nothing could make me enjoy Latin...well, not until I returned to school to study horticulture at Algonquin College around 1991...30 years ago. Who knew that my conjugating Latin verbs and learning the roots of words as a child would make my life so much easier, enjoyable and just a lot of fun? Latin and fun just didn't seem to ever go together in the same sentence...
But there I was, one of the four or five 'mature' students in the class, finding that when our profs spoke about Sambucus nigra, that we, the old folks, could pretty well figure out which Sambucus they were talking about - it would be an elderberry with almost black berries - while the young-uns who were never subjected to 'amo, amas, amant' at an early age were totally lost. Paeonia lactiflora was a peony with milk white flowers. I understood that. And then there were all of the plants which had as a species name 'officinalis', as in Rosemarinus officinalis (which changed to to Salvia rosemarinus in 2017 just to confuse everyone) or Salvia officinalis, meaning a salvia having medicinal use. Or 'pratensis' - growing in meadows; micro, - meaning small (as in micropetalum or small petals); macro - meaning large (as in macrophyllum, or large leaved). And on and on. What a thrill it was to see that Latin word, and understand the plant a little more, to know what conditions it liked, to which other plants it was related. ....There it is again, that combination of 'Latin' and thrill...in the same sentence!...oxymoronic once again.
It amazed me at how few younger students had any idea of the meanings of many of these words. This was a clear disadvantage for them when they had to learn every word of the binomial system of classification set up by Swedish botanist Carolus Linnaeus in the mid-1700's in order to better understand plants and their origins at a time when plants and plant hunting was becoming so popular. Scientists and plant hunters needed to make sure their identification of plants was correct, so Linnaeus classified each plant using two words - the Genus or generic name (Paeonia, Rosa, Pinus, Baptisia, Tulipa, etc.) and the Latin species' name or specific epithet. This type of classification was adopted the world over, so botanists could finally speak to each other knowing they were all using the same language and were all referring to the same plant. Added to that were the cultivar names...plants cultivated or chosen and named by humans, often after relatives or famous people, as in Aster frikartii 'Monch', one of the best asters around, and very distinct from others. Or Paeonia lactiflora 'Sarah Bernhardt'.
Instead of just using a common name ...a pine, for example ... they could now specify a particular plant. Pinus strobus, or white pine, could not be mixed up with Pinus mugo, or mugo pine. They are two entirely different plants, one being very tall and the other quite compact.
So, while common names are endearing, it is best to use Latin names when trying to pick a specific plant for your garden. And if you need some help, there are books and the internet to help you out. I bought a lovely little book all those years ago when I enrolled at Algonquin, not knowing where this new career would take me. I attach a picture of it in case you would like to renew your relationship with that old language, Latin, in order to better understand your garden and the plants in it. This particular one may be hard to find, but there are always others if you look around.
So, in the end, after trashing Latin for most of my life, and after having more than 30 years in my 'new' career of horticulture, I have to thank my Latin teacher (name lost in the distant past like many of the plant labels in the garden), for giving me the most extraordinary opportunity to better understand, truly understand, what all of that gibberish was...thank you
- gratias tibi ago.
...and amo you....or however you say, 'I love you' in Latin....never quite got to that...