The wonder of wildflowers

AMONG THE WILDFLOWERS OF the West Australian bush, wonders exist that baffle the mind and inspire the imagination. Hidden beneath native grasses, carnivorous flowers glue-trap their prey, liquefying hapless insects from which they absorb nutrients. Other seemingly harmless blooms spread pollen by striking visiting insects with a catapulting arm, their swatting actions triggered by the touch of tiny legs. Showy orchids achieve such convincing native wasp impersonations – including pheromones – that male wasps willingly attempt to mate with them. There are banksias that hide their branches underground, exposing only robust flower heads that sit on the soil’s surface.

After only a day of stepping gingerly through native scrub in the state’s south-western corner, I find pastel-pink-and-green flowers so quirky they resemble Dr. Seuss caricatures. Some 72 hours and 460km later, pompom-like fuzz-balls the size of marbles speckle the dry, sandy ground, and I encounter the playfully nicknamed ‘bum nut’ hakea, ‘ouch bush’, and ‘bugger off’ acacia, the names signalling the look and feel of the plants.

WA’s annual bloom-belt begins in the mid-north each June and rolls, like a slow breaking wave, towards the state’s southern reaches, petering out by late October. The flowers are mostly minuscule, the smallest measuring just 2mm. Many appear unremarkable until you focus on their intricate details, which range from painted landing strips that guide pollinators to their centres, to delicate eyelash-like petal fringes. In some places, masses of fine blooms cluster in hazes of vivid colour.

WA supports some 12,800 identified native plant species – more than half of