“We have an ant on Mr. Spiky” Mayleen Farrington says to her daughter as she carefully pushes aside a leaf on the barbed plant to give Maya a better looks at the insect crawling over the four-foot-tall, prickly looking plant.
As greenhouse manager, a work-study position the 40-year-old biology senior has held for two years, Farrington looks over one of the most unique and least-known spaces on the Portland campus. Nestled on the locked sixth floor of the science building, you’re not likely to stumble upon this space by accident.
For a couple hours each week, Farrington tends to this diverse and unique collection of plant species, which are primarily used as teaching samples for biology classes to study plant reproduction, pollination, and adaptation.
Farrington’s job is year-round, and primarily involves watering, maintenance, cultivation, and a whole lot of pest control. “Mealybugs are the bane of my existence right now” she says.
A proponent of integrated pest management, Farrington does not like to go straight for the harsh insecticides to fight her pest problem, but rather uses a myriad of cooperative techniques to keep the plants healthy.
“I would like to get some predatory insects in here, but funding is limited,” says Farrington.
Farrington, whose has worked as a farrier – trimming and shoeing horse’s hooves – for sixteen years, stumbled upon the manager position and jumped at the chance to cultivate an unlikely and diverse collection of plants.
One such unique specimen is the Stapelia gigantean, also called a “carrion flower”, this starfish-shaped flower emits an odor reminiscent of rotting flesh as a means of attracting flies, which help it to pollinate. “They kind of smell like road kill,” Farrington adds.
But this rooftop “Little Shop of Horrors” does not stop there. The Euphorbia tirucalli, or “pencil tree” is a waxy looking sprawl of thin green branches, whose sap can irritate or burn the skin.
Another, intentionally unidentified plant, is said to induce what Farrington calls “flying dreams” if licked. “But we are not supposed to discuss that,” she says.
It’s not only the carnivorous, burn inducing, or hallucinogenic that makes it into the collection. The Stanhopea orchid, growing just across from the putrid carrion flower, gives off a pleasant warm vanilla smell and battles the olfactory senses for one’s attention.
The greenhouse is kept at 55 degrees during the winter, and can get up to 90 degrees in the summer, and has a wide range of species all thriving in the same place.
From a six-foot papaya tree, to orchids, Egyptian papyrus, desert cactus, and a pineapple plant harvested from a grocery store Delmonte, there is no real rhyme of reason for what makes it into the greenhouse.
“It’s kind of a free for all” says Farrington. Some of the plants are grown at the request of biology professors looking for specific species to use in the classroom, but much of the stocking of this mini ecosystem is left up to the discretion of Farrington.
“A lot of it has been for my own entertainment,” says Farrington, who does a lot of her research on the Internet, always looking for a new way to keep the greenhouse thriving. “These guys are sort of my pet plants,” she says.
But the work-study job is more than just a hobby for Farrington. An advocate of developing sustainable communities and localized food production, she is currently applying to a master’s program in sustainable communities at Northern Arizona University.
Farrington’s specific focus is on noninvasive, low-maintenance landscaping techniques “to replace lawns and all that stupidity”.
USM’s science departments are among some of university’s best funded, but their budgets focus very narrowly on specific concentrations such as genetics, and cellular work.
The greenhouse receives little funding outside of what is allocated to biology professors when they teach a class that calls for plant samples. Farrington’s work-study salary is the only real expense incurred in running the greenhouse, making it an easy to sustain and uniquely adaptable venture.
Still, in her time at USM, Farrington has come to see that the school’s quality lies not in its bankroll, but the dedication of its faculty. “What it lacks in funding, it makes up for in amazing staff,” she says.
As Farrington prepares to graduate this spring, she is keeping the future of the greenhouse in mind, putting together a manual for the next caretaker to assure that this sixth-floor sanctuary flourishes in her absence.
“It’s just a great place to come up and get away from it all,” Farrington says.