Sex, drugs and Orchids that grow in the dark

Orchids are amazing plants. Firstly they are the biggest flower group in the world with about 35,000 varieties. Secondly they have developed all kinds of diverse ways to pollinate themselves.

Take the Bee Orchid. Somehow - I suppose it has to be natural selection - it has evolved a flower that looks the image of a female bee. So male bees hop on board for a bit of casual sex. While doing so the orchid's pollinia - its pollen sack - hooks on to the bee which deposits it at the next Bee Orchid to which the bee has taken a fancy. So as the bee does what birds and bees do, in blissful ignorance of the way it has been duped, the only real sex that's going on is between the orchids.

Slipper orchids attract thirsty insects looking for a drink in their flower pouch or sack. Often the insect slips in, gets wet and hooks the pollinia as it dries off.

One orchid is a little more sophisticated, exuding a narcotic substance that puts the insect's lights out when a lid closes over the sack. When the lid lifts, the insect comes round then crawls out with the pollinia attached. In this case the narcotic is addictive enough to drag the insect back to other flowers, like tiny insect junkies visiting their suppliers.

I know all this because we went to the Royal Horticultural Society Wisley today to photograph trees. There were daffodils in bloom. Daffodils in mid-January! Just to prove it I photographed Gill with some (above). On the way out we called in the plant centre. It was Orchid Weekend so the shop was packed with orchids and there was a Gardeners' Question Time-style presentation where, apart from the above, we learned that there is an orchid in Australia that grows underground. What's the point of that?

Wisley's resident expert assures us that Orchids are pretty easy to grow. Don't you believe it. We bought a Cymbidium two years ago and after a wonderful initial flower display we have had nothing but leaves. I took it outside in the summer, just as I was told to do. I have been sparing with food and water. It doesn't get too much sunlight. I have even tried talking to it in my best Prince of Wales' brogue.

After all the excitement at the start of this note I might have expected an X-rated Cymbidium by now, a Cymbidium so outrageous that it has to be stored on the top shelf , away from prying eyes or, more alarming still, a visit from the obscene vegetation squad.

Sadly I think we have bought the most Puritanical orchid on the planet. It doesn't dance, sing or flash at any passing wasps. It simply sits there looking green, dull and bored. It needs to get out more.