Conophytum—pt. 1, by Fred Dortort It’s mid-summer in California, and though some conophytums are beginning to wake up, most are still sound asleep. At this very moment, though, in their native habitat at the southern end of Africa, many are in full growth. Less well known to the general public than its distant cousin, lithops, the genus Conophytum just might be the single most interesting of the multitude of genera in the family Mesembryanthemaceae. Its range is smaller than that of lithops, but in both numbers of species (as many as 300 described, something more than 100 currently recognized) and variety of form, Conophytum outshines its stone-like cousins. Although conophytums share the lithops format of individual heads consisting of pair of conjoined leaves, the species range from relatively large plants with individual heads up to a few inches tall and wide, to vigorous clumpers that produce dense clusters up to a foot across composed of a hundred heads or more, to miniature single-bodied species whose largest measurements hardly exceed an eighth of an inch. Unparalleled in their ability to survive on next to nothing, Conophytum includes some of the strangest of all succulent plants, indeed some of the strangest living things on Earth. The classic conophytum shape is like a cluster of tiny, speckled grapes, but others look like flattened, fuzzy buttons or miniature high-peaked saddles, strange little semi-spherical blobs, or even purple cocktail onions. Almost entirely native to those parts of South Africa and Namibia where the little rain that falls falls in winter, conophytums flourish in a wide variety of microhabitats, from tiny mossy crevices high in the mountains to bone dry desert flats where they are fully exposed to the most blazing sun and intense aridity imaginable. An individual conophytum, whether bilobed, globular, or just plain peculiar, consists of a pair of tightly fused, highly succulent leaves known as plant bodies. Generally, a small slit in the center of the plant marks the spot where the leaves are joined and where the often colorful, sometimes highly fragrant, flowers emerge. Unlike lithops and most other “mimicry” mesembs, however, the edges where the two leaves meet is usually invisible, and in most species the joined plant bodies look like a single entity. In many conophytums the plants bodies are highly decorated, patterned with red or purple dots and lines; they may have transparent windows on top, or be entirely red, purple, or bronze in color. Although conophytums are considered “winter” growers, the exact definition of when “winter” starts varies from species to species, in some occurring rather confusingly as early as May or June (Steven Hammer has observed his plants waking up ever earlier over the last several years). Most conophytums, however, begin to grow between September and November, and species generally remain in their growing phase until early spring. Unlike lithops, which flower at the end of their growth cycle, conophytums flower as they start to grow; the sudden appearance of flowers is often the best indication that the time to begin watering has arrived. The busting out of flower buds from barely visible fissures in what may seem like small, shapeless heaps of dried paper never fails to evoke a kind of wonder in those who can recognize this renewal for what it is. Several months later, when new pairs of leaves become visible inside the split at the top of the plant, or the surface of the plant starts looking tired, perhaps whitish or somewhat stretched, watering should cease. The dry resting period for the plants can last as long as six or seven months, and many of the smaller bodied species shrivel so much during this time that they seem quite dead. During this resting state occasional light misting doesn’t hurt, but, as with lithops, the goal is to let the old plant bodies dry up so that they won’t block the free emergence of the new ones. When the new growth seems ready to take over more frequent mistings can help, sometimes as often as every day or two if the light is strong enough; the plants, however, must never remain wet. When in full growth the plants can take heavier watering at intervals from as often as once a week to perhaps once every other week. If plants become extremely turgid watering should be tapered off, as too much water will cause the plant bodies to rupture. Generally conophytums do not need quite as much light as lithops, although for most indoor gardeners the difference is moot, and under typical home growing situations the plants will benefit from as much light as possible, with very light shade recommended during their dormant periods. A few of the species, the bilobed ones in particular, will even survive outdoors in very well drained soil. Our winter rains coincide with their natural growing seasons, followed by more or less complete drought until their new growths are bursting forth and the old ones shriveled and desiccated. A little bit of frost won’t hurt them, though extensive periods of sub-freezing, wet days could very well prove fatal. Those are the generalities of conophytum style and culture, now to some of the specific groups within the genus. In addition to being the best candidates for outdoor growing, the bilobed species include many of the easiest types for cultivation. Older books list a great number of species within this sub-group of conophytums, but many are now considered straightforward Conophytum bilobum. Though the bilobes are confined to the arid northwestern regions of South Africa (extending just a bit into Namibia as well), Namaqualand, the Richtersveld and that area east of the coastal mountains called Bushmanland, they nonetheless can withstand substantial amounts of water and generally resist rotting. C. bilobum extends over most of this area; its large range and many variant forms gave rise to its enormous number of now invalid synonyms. A few of these forms, though not taxonomically significant, are worth mentioning because of their horticultural qualities. The form once known as C. nelianum may be the hardiest of all these variants, clumping quite readily and well adapted both to a windowsill or a sunny rocky garden. C. “elishae,” with less prominent lobes, also grows easily and multiplies fairly rapidly. C. bilobum subspecies altum gradually forms clusters of proportionately long stems, each surprisingly surmounted by a bi-lobed conophytum. Some forms have their edges outlined in red; others are white-skinned, with an almost glazed look and feel to them. In the wild I’ve seen a few plants with three-lobed bodies; to me at least they look deformed rather than rare and exotic, but someone else might consider them a horticultural treasure. The other bilobes are much less widespread, and less common in cultivation as well. C. frutescens grows even taller than C. bilobum ssp. altum, ending up as a mass of bilobed plant bodies on the top of foot and a half tall stems. Less easy to cultivate, the bilobed C. regale has a strange bubble-like structure surrounding its central fissure, and C. herreanthus, once given its own genus (as Herreanthus meyeri) is covered with a deeply glaucous (blue-gray) epidermis, and makes tight, low-growing clusters as the years go by. Some of the other species related to these deeply bilobed plants are much less prominently lobed. Most commonly seen (because of its ease of cultivation), C. meyeri in some forms barely looks lobed at all. It quickly grows into good sized clumps of rounded plant bodies, each considerably smaller than the other bilobed species I’ve mentioned. Other more-or-less bilobed species have slightly pyramidal lobes rather than rounded ones, but in some of these the presence of discernible lobes becomes somewhat problematic. These barely bilobed plants might as well provide the introduction to the very large number of round conophytum species, with shapes ranging from almost perfect spheres, to slightly pointed, to definitely concave, to quite squat. The plants may be plain green, or have bright red markings around their central fissures, like lipstick around a mouth, or they be slightly speckled or arrayed with definite patterns of dots and stripes that range from faint to vividly bright. There are dozens of conophytums with these characteristics, but I’ll describe just a few of the most distinct, as well as some of the more commonly encountered ones. Among the many clustering, small bodied, more-or-less spherical species, C. uviforme), in habitat looks like dense clusters of grapes (befitting its name—grape shaped), somehow mysteriously transported to narrow crevices among boulders in the middle of the desert. These clustering little spheres may be plain green, or grayish, or tinged with purple, their surfaces often (but not always) marked with a light patterning of dots. Other species with a generally similar appearance include the very widespread C. truncatum (the easternmost species), C. bolusiae, in nature a rare endemic, but very easy to grow, and the pale-skinned, usually lightly speckled C. flavum. I’ve seen C. saxetanum, one of the smallest bodied and most rapidly multiplying species growing in the Richtersveld along boulders in what seems to be no more than an eighth of an inch of dusty grit over solid rock—this is an area of blazing sunlight and intense aridity, with perhaps two to four inches of rain a year, softened only by occasional sea-fogs that penetrate inland. Similar in general shape and form, but more strikingly decorated with marking of dark red, purple or brown lines and geometrically arranged dots, are species such as Conophytum obcordellum (one of the easiest to grow and perhaps the best for windowsill cultivation), and C. minisculum, appropriately tiny-bodied, entirely brilliant purple, or marked with mosaic-like designs of curving dark-green lines over a white-green body, as well as the similar, but smaller and rarer C. swanepoelianum, and the descriptively named C. rubrolineatum. C. obcordellum occurs northwest of Cape Town, along the coast, but not as far north as the harsh lands of Namaqualand and the Richtersveld. It shares its somewhat better watered habitat with many other succulents: crassulas, adromischus, pelargoniums, euphorbias, and many bulbs, and this more benign environment explains it relative ease of cultivation. There are many more “sphaeroid” species of conophytum worth mentioning. I’ll discuss some of them next month, and also cover some of the really different members of the genus along with more specific details about cultivation.