A Library Journal Best Reference Pick of 2015! Every gardener is a scientist. Pollination, native plants, ecology, climatology&;these are just a few of the scientific concepts that play a key role in a successful garden. While the ideas are intuitive to many gardeners, they are often discussed in unfamiliar scientific terms. The Dictionary of Science for Gardeners is the first of its kind to provide practical scientific descriptions for gardening terms. Highlighting 16 branches of science that are of particular interest to gardeners, with entries from abaptation to zoochory , Michael Allaby explores more than 6,000 terms in one easy-to-use reference. This must-have reference will help you navigate the complex world of science. It defines more than 6,000 words from 16 branches of science that are of particular interest to gardeners, from abscission (a plant&;s rejection of an organ) to zoochary (the dispersal of seeds by animals). Hundreds of illustrations clarify key definitions and help explain abstract concepts. Definitions reflect the latest developments in science - Covers topical issues like climate change, ecology, and native plants - Indispensable to home gardeners and nursery professionals A garden is a place of delight. Conceived in the imagination of the gardener and realised through hours of toil in rain and shine, its produce feeds the body and its shapes, colours, and structures feed the soul. It is a paradise in miniature. It is also a haven for wildlife. Flower petals are coloured, after all, in order to attract pollinating insects. And where there are insects there will be animals that feed on insects, and on surplus seeds, and on each other. The well-tended soil that garden plants require teems with living organisms, a world of its own inhabited by beings, most too small to be visible, that feed on detritus, and the terrifying monsters that hunt them. The modern garden has evolved, at least in part, from gardens that were not intentionally ornamental. Monastic gardens grew plants with medicinal properties and these became physic gardens, and the gardeners were often apothecaries, the ancestors of our pharmacists. The Chelsea Flower Show is held in what was once known as the Apothecaries&; Garden. It was where trainee apothecaries learned their botany. Physicians, administers of physic, were also trained in botany. Carolus Linnaeus, perhaps the world&;s most famous botanist, was a physician with a highly successful practice in Stockholm that gave him the time and money to further his studies of plants. He followed Olof Rudbeck (Rudbeckia bears his name) as director of the Botanic Garden at the University of Uppsala, which he rearranged and where he developed the system of biological classification that we use to this day. His garden is still there, and open to visitors. Botanic gardens exist, and have always existed, for purposes of scientific research and education, and nowadays for plant conservation. The fact that members of the public enjoy them is a bonus. Gardens, then, are real. But not so many decades ago many scientists thought the modern private garden wholly artificial, merely a contrived collection of cultivated varieties of plants that had been selectively bred purely for their appearance, resistance to disease, and ability to thrive locally. Garden plants were far removed genetically from their wild ancestors, the &;proper&; plants. A garden was aesthetically pleasing perhaps, but it was of no botanical or ecological interest. Scientists conducted their fieldwork in ancient woodlands, natural grasslands, and alpine meadows, and scorned orchards, plantations, lawns, and rockeries. Gardeners, of course, were not in the least troubled by this and probably were unaware of it. They gardened for pleasure and their skills were entirely practical. It was enough to know that a particular place was a frost hollow without knowing why it was, no knowledge of biogeography was needed to understand which plants were hardy and which were not, and gardeners knew the invertebrate animals that would attack their plants and the best ways of dealing with them. Seed catalogues and garden centres labelled plants with names that were familiar and no one but a specialist needed to know about the evolutionary relatives of any particular plant, or even how it came by its name. Scientists began to take gardens more seriously when ecologists became concerned about the threats to wildlife that arose mainly from the intensification of arable farming. Meadows, a riot of flowers in summer, were being ploughed up and sown to much more productive temporary pastures containing a small number of grass species, where wild flowers were regarded as weeds. Hedges were being grubbed out to make larger fields more suited to modern farm machines, fields where combine harvesters could work three or more abreast. Everywhere, it seemed, natural habitats were disappearing or, more commonly, being deg