The Lichen Lady: Annie Lorrain Smith’s Scientific Revolution

October 23, 1854

Today we also celebrate the birth of the remarkable Annie Lorrain Smith, and oh my dears, what a story she has to tell us about persistence in both gardens and life.

While most Victorian women were arranging flowers in drawing rooms, Annie was arranging scientific revolutions in the halls of the British Museum.

Now, before you wonder what a lichenologist has to do with your garden, let me share something quite extraordinary.

Annie Lorrain Smith's work with lichens fundamentally changed our understanding of symbiotic relationships in nature.

Think of it this way: while Darwin was explaining competition in nature, Smith was documenting cooperation.

You see, dear friends, lichens are nature's most successful partnership - a fungi and algae living together in perfect harmony. Rather like a good garden design, wouldn't you say?

Your tall delphiniums support your climbing clematis, your alliums popping up through your hardy geraniums.

Smith was the first to properly document this botanical dance in British species.

Here's the delicious irony - while the British Museum wouldn't officially hire women, they couldn't deny Smith's expertise.

For 46 years, she worked as an "unpaid assistant," all while becoming the world's leading authority on lichens. Rather like those persistent plants that grow in the cracks of garden walls, wouldn't you say? Thriving where they're not supposed to.

Speaking of which, have you noticed the lichens in your garden?

Those patches of gray, green, or orange on your trees and stones? Rather than reaching for the pressure washer, consider this: lichens are your garden's environmental health monitors. Their presence actually indicates clean air - they simply won't grow in polluted conditions.

As Smith noted in her groundbreaking 1921 book "Lichens," they are "nature's most honest critics."

The poet Marianne Moore, writing about the same time as Smith, observed:

What is more precise than precision? Illusion.

How perfectly this describes Smith's work - looking beyond the illusion of a single organism to see the precise partnership within.

At this time of year, lichens become more visible in our gardens as deciduous trees shed their leaves. Take a moment to catalog the different types you see.

Smith identified three main growth forms:

• Crustose (flat and crusty)
• Foliose (leafy)
• Fruticose (shrubby)

If you're creating a Japanese-inspired garden, these natural patinas are actually highly prized.

The Japanese concept of "wabi-sabi" - finding beauty in age and imperfection - celebrates exactly what Smith spent her life studying.

By 1931, the scientific establishment could no longer ignore her contributions. She received a civil list pension and an OBE, though I rather think she cared more about the fact that her book had become the standard text for studying lichens.

As she wrote in her personal papers,

Recognition is fleeting; knowledge endures.

For those of you planning new garden features, consider what Smith's research teaches us about successful planting combinations. Just as lichens demonstrate perfect partnerships, think about creating plant communities rather than just plant collections. Combine plants that support each other - tall grasses protecting shade-loving ferns, nitrogen-fixing lupins enriching the soil for their neighbors.

And here's something fascinating - Smith discovered that some lichens could break down rock, creating the first bits of soil that other plants could then colonize.

Next time you see lichens on your garden walls or statuary, remember: you're witnessing the very beginning of soil creation, the foundation of all gardening.

One can't help but wonder what Smith would make of our modern gardens.

Would she approve of our obsession with sterility and power-washing?

Or would she, as I suspect, encourage us to look more closely at these overlooked organisms that have so much to teach us about cooperation and resilience?