Like last week’s copiapoa, this week’s eriosyce comes from Chile on South America’s arid Pacific coast. Eriosyce senilis ssp. senilis has long, curly white spines resembling a scraggly old beard. It hails from the Rio Choapa valley in the Coquimbo region of Chile.

Eriosyce senilis starting full bloom

This individual has a dark maroon body—about 3 inches wide—which contrasts strongly with the long, white spines. Frilly shocking-magenta flowers emerge like trumpets.

Eriosyce senilis flower closeup

February, 2012, is too mild in Southern California to be called “the dead of winter”. While some plants have slowed down drastically, others have reawakened and are pushing new flower buds. My Copiapoa tenuissima is pictured in full bloom with yellow flowers sharply contrasting against the dark maroon body.

In early February, the most active cacti and succulents are plants from regions with winter rainfall (or fog), typically near western coasts. Copiapoa tenuissima follows this general rule since it comes from around Chile’s Pacific Ocean (western) port city of Antofagasta.

Look at the 10 or 11 new heads branching off from the central body. These can be re-rooted and grown as new plants, though it takes a while for a detached head to grow new roots.

The currently accepted name is Copiapoa humilis subspecies tenuissima, since the original description of Copiapoa tenuissima was invalid. I’m mildly dissatisfied with this classification for sentimental reasons: Copiapoa humilis is a rough and lumpy species which grows fast and messy. By contrast, this Copiapoa tenuissima seems to be rather elegant.

See Also

Hunt, David. 2006. The New Cactus Lexicon. dh books. The Manse, Chapel Lane, Milborne Port, Sherborne DT9 5DL, England.

If you were marooned on a… ahem… DESERT island and could only grow one genus of cactus… okay humor me here… don’t you think it would probably be…

Mammillaria

Mammillaria is a large genus with about 140–180 species, depending on who’s listing them. So if you’re stuck on that hypothetical desert island, you won’t be limiting your options very much.

Pilbeam (1999) recognizes 181 Mammillaria species and of these Hunt (1999) accepts 145. Any way you split this genus, it is one of the most varied in the Cactaceae, and it also has wide distribution: southward as far as Colombia and Venezuela and northward extending into the American Southwest. The greatest richness and diversity of Mammillaria varieties is in Mexico.

Mammillaria carmenae is native to Tamaulipas, Mexico.

Mammillaria carmenae, a particularly blonde and pink-flowered individual cared for and photographed by Mr Sentient Meat. Spines can vary from yellow to white. Flowers can be white, pink or pink-tinged white.

Mammillaria is a very diverse group; however none of these cacti are giant trees. They are all small-to-medium-size “globular” (roundish) cacti. Some are solitary; others grow into large clumps. They all have distinctive bumps which remind scientists of breasts enough to earn the name mammillae—thus the genus name (or as they say in the lingo, the generic epithet).

Mammillaria carmenae, same plant, different angle

The plant pictured is fully grown at around 3 inches tall and 2 inches in diameter. This species is known to grow in clusters, so it’s probably time for me to move it to a larger pot where it can spread out and grow more bodies.

Mammillaria carmenae has pale yellow to white spines, and each areole (at the tip of each mammilla) has over 100 spines, obscuring the surface of the plant almost entirely. It reminds me a bit of Mammillaria candida (profiled recently) or Mammillaria lasiacantha (in the collection but not profiled yet). Surprisingly, these similar-looking cousins are not its closest relatives.

Instead, according to molecular studies by Butterworth and Wallace (2002), Mammillaria carmenae is most closely related to M pectinifera, a bizarre subminiature which is about to bloom in my yard. I hope to profile it soon. You’d never guess these two are so closely related. M pectinifera (means “comb-bearing”) resembles a strange, round top with spine-beds (areoles) like tiny, multilegged creatures. You’ll see!

See Also

ANDERSON, E. F. 2001. The cactus family. Timber Press, Portland, Oregon, USA.

HUNT, D. 1999. CITES Cactaceae checklist. Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew, Richmond, UK.

BUTTERWORTH, C.;  WALLACE, R.  2002. “Phylogenetic studies of Mammillaria (Cactaceae)—Insights from chloroplast sequence variation and hyptothesis testing using the parametric bootstrap”. American Journal of Botany 91(7): 1086–1098. 2004.

PILBEAM, J. 1999. Mammillaria. Nuffield Press, Oxford, UK.

Also… coming soon, Mr Sentient Meat, chief plant profiler for Succulent Sunday, is very excited to be upgrading his library with the top, current, go-to reference for cactus:

HUNT, D. 2006. New cactus lexicon. dh books. Sherborne, England, UK.

[I can practically feel your excitement from here. —Mr S M]

In game of natural selection, some cactus species have adapted so successfully that their natural habitat can extend across many hundreds of miles—several USA or Mexico states. Now in darkest winter, it’s time to talk about the “Snowball Cactus” which is just such a one: Mammillaria candida (Scheidweiler 1838). The spine covering on Mammillaria candida is so dense that the cactus does appear like a big snowball or puffball. The flowers can be light pink, dark pink, white with dark midveins… or even yellow!

Its habitat stretches across several states in northeastern Mexico: Coahuila, Nuevo León, San Luis Potosí, and Tamaulipas.

Mammillaria candida grown and photographed by Sentient Meat

Unlike some puffball-like mammillaria, Mammillaria candida has spines which really mean business. I thought it looked soft and friendly so I started to repot it without gloves. I thought if I moved slowly and gently I could just turn it upside down with one hand and rest it ever-so-lightly in my other hand. Big mistake! After trying this maneuver gingerly a couple times, I gave up. I can try again in the spring. With gloves.

Mammillaria candida (syn M. ortizrubiona) ML 656 - Photo : Michel Lacoste at Mammillarias.net

M candida is sometimes separated from the rest of Mammillaria into its own genus, Mammilloydia, because its seeds are not pitted and lack the perisperm found in all other mammillaria. Recent molecular studies, however, place M. candida squarely within Mammillaria, a huge genus which includes many cacti much more distantly related than Mammillaria candida.

Mammillaria candida - Photo : Willy at Mammillarias.net

See Also

Mammillarias.net gallery of species starting with C

Mammillaria plumosa, fall flowers usually white or cream, here with pale pink stripe

Part of the magnetism of cacti and succulents is their strangeness—how they differ from mundane plants. Even more fascinating are the strangest-of-the-strange: cacti and succulents which have evolved bizarre features or eccentric adaptations.

Enter Mammillaria plumosa. It’s a cactus and it has spines, but these “spines” have evolved differently. They do not pierce or prickle. Instead, they sprout from each areole like tiny fountains of feathers. They certainly protect the body of the plant—but it’s the soft protection of plumage rather than the hard protection of armor… or the outright weaponry of your typical cactus.

Mammillaria plumosa forms clusters in calcareous rock clefts of Coahuila and Nuevo Leon in Northeast Mexico, home to many gorgeous and desirable cacti and succulents… such as Ariocarpus scaphirostris, subject of a previous Succulent Sunday. Like many cacti, it is protected on List II of CITES international wildlife treaty.

Mammillaria plumosa, photo WindsurfGirl at Flickr

Mammillaria plumosa is popular with home growers. (Yes, home growers. I hate the C word, collectors.) It is not terribly difficult to grow if you don’t keep its roots too wet during cold weather. Or at least that’s what they tell me. So far, so good! Pictured is my plant blooming happily in a mix of 95% pumice, a naturally airy volcanic rock. This should help avoid the dreaded root rot. Time will tell; our first winter together is knocking at the door—this week with freakish 90 MPH winds in Los Angeles! Ah but the winds aren’t as dangerous to cactus as wet combined with cold.

Mammillaria plumosa rewards proper care by regular flowering (usually white but sometimes with a light pink midstripe), especially in autumn. And it spreads outward to form a clump. These clumps can be divided. Separated heads are reported to grow new roots with some ease. This makes it the best kind of long-term project for the home grower—your growing success is rewarded with more plants which you can give away to your friends.

And they look good.

See also

Mammillaria plumosa article at Cactus Art

Mammillaria for sale at Miles’ To Go cactus nursery

From The Cactus Family by Edward F. Anderson (2001):

Mammillaria plumosa F. A. C. Weber 1898

Feather Cactus

Chilita plumosa (F. A. C. Weber) Orcutt 1926, Ebnerella plumosa (F. A. C. Weber) Buxbaum 1951

Plants forming low, dense mounds to 40 cm (16 in) wide. Stems globose, light green 6–7 cm (2.4–2.8 in) high and in diameter. Tubercles very soft, cylindrical, without latex, axils woolly. Central spines absent. Radial spines about 40, plumose, white, 3–7 mm (to 0.3 in) long. Flowers white, to 15 mm (0.6 in) long. Fruits club shaped, deep purplish rose, to 15 mm (0.6 in) long. Seeds blackish brown to black. Distribution: Coahuila and Nuevo Leon, Mexico.

Ariocarpus scaphirostris, extremely rare, occurring only on the Valley of Rayones, Nuevo Leon, Mexico. It is endangered by unscrupulous collectors… and reportedly by goats, which damage their habitat. This 2-inch plant is probably at least 8 years old — minimum flowering age.

I was in the full throes of enthusiasm when I obtained this rather costly little plant. By enthusiasm I mean the old sense of  divine inspiration or frenzy. This frenzy — probably a dopamine buzz — always grips me in the sales area at cactus and succulent plant shows. To my friends, I apologize if I seem dizzy or distracted. It’s because my mind is bathed in an unseen, golden haze.

It’s both embarrassing and enthralling to be an enthusiast — almost any kind of enthusiast, but particularly a plant enthusiast. Embarrassing because it’s so personal, so particular, so quaint, so… geeky. Enthralling because the object of our enthusiasm brings such immediate fascination, such transfixing attention, such passion.

As soon as you reveal a passion, you make yourself vulnerable — this is true with any declaration of love. How much moreso with plants? For one thing, the love is always unrequited. And it’s such an obscure, unusual love. It’s a little like loving, say, mathematics. (Guilty!) And yet it’s much more humble, more homely, almost banal… literally down in the dirt. Face it, you are out on a limb — a plant limb — and it feels awkward.

Same plant in full bloom 3 days later. In habitat, only the tips of the leaves (and flower) would be visible above the gypsum shale scree. (And yes, I just enjoy writing gypsum shale scree.)

Like most passions in life, if you have to explain it, no words will suffice; yet to another enthusiast, no words are necessary. The beauty of the forms, the plants’ names and stories, the technical details of habitat and how to care for the plants — these crossbeams interlock to build first a frame and then a fully furnished room in the house of one’s life (or at least to take over the backyard… sorry honey!).

Today’s plant, Ariocarpus scaphirostris (also spelled scapharostrus for historical reasons) is an obscure beauty — literally obscure. In nature it spends its entire life hidden underground with only the tips of its tubercles exposed (those thick protuberances). And even its tubercles when dusty blend perfectly into the landscape, looking exactly like the shards of gypsum shale which litter its habitat.

This complete camouflage is demonstrated almost miraculously in — of all things — a YouTube video.

Ariocarpus scaphirostris is also obscure because it lives in such a limited area, only Valle de Rayones, Nuevo Leon, Mexico. This rare plant is endangered by collectors and, it turns out, by goats which range the slopes where it lives and damage the landscape. Luckily more and more folks in Mexico (and internationally) are coming to recognize the irreplaceable resource of Nuevo Leon‘s native plant life, including this almost invisible geophyte (plant living mostly underground).

Ariocarpus scaphirostris is vulnerable, but its outlook is improving modestly as passionate individuals raise its conservation profile in Mexico and the rest of the world. This plant is small, it’s slow, it’s difficult, and it’s hard to come by. Most of the year it looks like twisted green rocks. But I think it’s beautiful, and this was its first flower under my care.
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Ariocarpus scaphirostris at CactusArt.biz
Ariocarpus scaphirostris at CactiGuide.com
Ariocarpus scaphirostris at Living Rocks of Mexico

When I bought this Lobivia schieliana (syn Echinopsis schieliana), it had no flowers or buds. I got it for the wonderful spines, which turn the rounded (globose) stems of the plant into little inverted birds’ nests. It was a homely beauty, a miniature sculpture of meticulously attached pieces of straw spun into whorls. It was in fact a perfect example of a particular cactus aesthetic: curious, ugly-as-beautiful — the implicit danger of spines, tamed by culture… and in this case, by the plant’s tendency to use its defensive spines as horny shield rather than stabbing weapons.

And then… out of nowhere… the blooms. Shocking red, raised above the body of the plant on narrow tubes — the better to be seen by their dancing partners… hummingbirds? Much as I want to write about my other strange cacti — exquisite snowy globes or pineapples with spines like bouquets of grass — I can’t ignore these flowers any better than the hummingbirds can.

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PS One of the… I say THE… references on cactus just arrived in the mail and I’m very excited: The Cactus Family (2001) by Edward F. Anderson. He writes,

Echinopsis schieliana (Backeburg) D. R. Hunt 1987

Lobivia schieliana Backeberg 1957, L. backeburgii subsp. schieliana (Backeburg) G. D. Rowley 1982
Lobivia quiabayensis Rausch 1968, Echinopsis maximiliana subsp. quiabayensis (Rausch) G. D. Rowley 1982
Lobivia leptacantha Rausch 1972

Plants often forming clusters from basal branching. Stems globose to cylindrical, often slender, to 4.5 cm (1.8 in) long and 3.5 cm (1.4 in) in diameter. Ribs about 14. Central spine one, often absent at first, bent downward, light brown, 5–6 mm (0.2 in) long. Radial spines about 14, pectinate to radiating, interlacing, light brown. Flowers bright light red; floral tubes slender. Distribution: Peru and Bolivia.

Revisiting Mammillaria hernandezii in October, this time in bloom

On a recent Succulent Sunday we saw Mammillaria hernandezii. I wrote about its relatively large, purple-pink flowers, but since a picture is worth at least as many words as I wrote, here’s a follow-up. This was the first flower; if you look closely you can see the conical buds for more flowers to come. Also see how the smaller head has grown much larger in 3 months.

The same plant(s) from back in July. Besides the bloom, notice how much smaller the second head was.

In my yard, I tend to overlook Thelocactus bicolor until it blooms. Its body is green, moderately spiny and round — about 3 inches across in this particular young plant (globose… or actually ovoidal in this beautiful technical summary on Thelocactus). The problem is, hundreds or thousands of cacti fit a similar description, including dozens under my care.

When it does bloom, “The Glory of Texas” is impossible to ignore. From a distance the bright magenta petals catch your eye (faded to pink here by my cheap camera). Something about the deep crimson center and glistening yellow pollen also jumps out at you, even from 10 yards away… not to mention the bloom’s size: on the young plant pictured, the flower is an inch wider than the entire body of of the plant.

Thelocactus bicolor is widespread in the deserts of Texas and northern Mexico (see the excellent map of its known habitat from the Thelocactus site), so it’s in no danger of disappearing… either from habitat or from admiring eyes of home growers.

Thelocactus bicolor is widespread in Northern Mexico shown on this beautiful map at http://www.thelocactus.cactus-mall.com/Thelocactus_Site.html