In the flooded rainforest of Colombia's Inírida River, a casual Instagram photograph has led to the formal recognition of Victoria colombiana — a fourth species of giant waterlily, among the oldest flowering plants on Earth. A Kew Gardens botanist, unsettled by a misidentification in a stranger's selfie, spent three years assembling an expedition to confirm what his expertise had whispered. The discovery arrives already shadowed by loss: with only thirty to fifty plants estimated to exist, the species enters human knowledge at the very edge of its survival.
Plant selfie leads to discovery of giant waterlily species visible from space
We believe we know everything but the reality is we don't
Mark
So a man took a selfie with a plant and that led to discovering an entirely new species? That seems almost too convenient.
Mimi
It's not quite that simple. Harris took the photo, but he didn't know what he was looking at. He thought it was a common waterlily. Magdalena saw it on Instagram and recognized something was off—the location didn't match where that species should exist.
Luke
Right, and that's the real story. Magdalena's expertise is what mattered. The selfie was just the vehicle. Without someone who knew enough to spot the anomaly, the photo would have stayed buried in an Instagram feed.
Mimi
Exactly. Magdalena spent three years verifying it. He had to get permits, funding, satellite imagery analysis. Then the actual expedition almost failed—they searched for days and found nothing.
Mark
But they found it in the end. With ten hours to spare, according to the reporting.
Mimi
Yes. Their driver knew the area and suggested where to look. That local knowledge was crucial. Indigenous people live there. They know the landscape.
Luke
The reporting credits that, which is good. But I notice we don't know much about those indigenous reserves or what their relationship to the plant is. That's a gap.
Mark
Fair point. So now the species is critically endangered—only thirty to fifty plants in the wild. What happens next?
Mimi
They're working on getting it officially listed as critically endangered by the IUCN. That gives it legal protection and draws attention to conservation efforts.
Luke
But the reporting doesn't say what those conservation efforts actually are. Is anyone propagating it in captivity? Are there habitat protections being put in place? We don't know.
Mark
So the discovery is confirmed, but the survival plan is still being written.
Mimi
That's fair. The paper was just published. The urgent work is just beginning.
Le Pouls
- A man's poolside selfie with enormous waterlilies in a remote Colombian river quietly contained a secret that science had never recorded.
- A specialist's instinct — that the plant in the photo could not be where it was said to be — set off three years of satellite analysis, permit negotiations, and expedition planning.
- With only ten hours before their departure flight, the team found nothing; it was a driver's offhand suggestion that led them through darkness to a hidden lake and, finally, to tears.
- The newly named Victoria colombiana is already critically endangered, with an estimated wild population of just thirty to fifty plants — a species discovered and imperiled in the same breath.
- Researchers are now racing to secure IUCN Red List protection, turning a chance photograph into an urgent conservation mandate before the species slips away unseen.
In the flooded rainforest of Colombia's Inírida River, a casual Instagram photograph has led to the formal recognition of Victoria colombiana — a fourth species of giant waterlily, among the oldest flowering plants on Earth. A Kew Gardens botanist, unsettled by a misidentification in a stranger's selfie, spent three years assembling an expedition to confirm what his expertise had whispered. The discovery arrives already shadowed by loss: with only thirty to fifty plants estimated to exist, the species enters human knowledge at the very edge of its survival.
Three years ago, a man named Jeremiah Harris posted a photograph of himself swimming among colossal waterlilies in Colombia's Inírida River, labeling them as the common giant species Victoria amazonica. He had no reason to think otherwise. But Carlos Magdalena, a waterlily specialist at Kew Gardens, saw the image and knew something was wrong — that species does not grow there. He reached out for coordinates, and then began the long work of turning a hunch into an expedition.
Giant waterlilies are ancient things. They predate continental drift, their leaves can span three meters, and only three species had ever been formally identified. Magdalena spent years securing funding and permits before finally assembling a team of botanists and indigenous community members to push into the flooded Colombian rainforest. For days, they found nothing. The jungle offered no confirmation.
With barely ten hours remaining before their return flight, a local driver pointed them in a new direction. They traveled through the dark to a small hidden lake — and there they found the waterlilies. Magdalena wept. A paper published in Phytotaxa has since confirmed the discovery: a species new to science, now named Victoria colombiana.
The joy of the finding is inseparable from its urgency. Researchers estimate only thirty to fifty of these plants exist in the wild, making the species critically endangered before the world had any chance to know it. Harris, whose selfie began the whole chain of events, noted that his friends had always teased him for photographing himself with plants. The team is now working to secure formal IUCN Red List protection — a race to preserve something that was hidden until the very moment it was found.
A photograph posted to Instagram three years ago has set in motion one of those rare botanical stories where chance, expertise, and determination converge to reveal something the world did not know existed. The image showed a man swimming among enormous waterlilies in Colombia's Inírida River, leaves so vast they seemed almost unreal. The photographer, Jeremiah Harris, who runs a carnivorous plant nursery in the United States, had simply labeled them as Victoria amazonica, the common giant waterlily. He did not know what he had found.
But Carlos Magdalena, a waterlily specialist at the Royal Botanic Gardens in Kew, recognized immediately that something was wrong with that identification. The Victoria amazonica does not grow in the Inírida River. Its natural range stops far short of that place. Magdalena messaged Harris, asking for the exact coordinates, and then began the slower work: analyzing satellite imagery, securing funding, navigating permits, assembling a team. Three years passed.
Giant waterlilies are among the oldest flowering plants still in existence on Earth. They predate the continental drift that separated the landmasses we know today. Their leaves can stretch three meters across and are sturdy enough to support the weight of a small child. They appear in Egyptian art and in Monet's paintings. There are only three other known species. And now, potentially, a fourth.
When Magdalena finally assembled his expedition—botanists from the Jardín Botánico in Bogotá and members of local indigenous reserves—they pushed deep into the flooded rainforest. For several days they found nothing. The jungle gave up no secrets. With only ten hours remaining before their return flight, their driver suggested a different direction. The team sailed through the darkness to a small lake buried in the forest, and there, in those final hours, they found the waterlilies. Magdalena wept. He described the moment as one he would carry for the rest of his life.
The team collected specimens for formal analysis. A paper published in the journal Phytotaxa on Friday confirmed what Magdalena had suspected: a species previously unknown to science. It has been named Victoria colombiana. The discovery is remarkable not only for what it reveals but for how fragile that revelation is. Researchers estimate between thirty and fifty of these plants exist in the wild. The species is already critically endangered, threatened by extinction before most of the world even knew it was there.
Harris, the photographer whose selfie began this chain of events, said his friends had long teased him for taking pictures of himself with plants. The discovery, he said, was incredible. Maarten Christenhusz, the plant taxonomist who examined the samples, noted that new species are discovered regularly, but few are as visually striking or as large as this one. The waterlily's leaves are so expansive they are visible from satellite imagery—a reminder, he said, of how much remains unknown about life on this planet.
The team is now working toward an official designation on the International Union for Conservation of Nature Red List, a formal recognition of the species' precarious status and a framework for protection. What began as a casual photograph has become an urgent race: to document, to understand, and to save something that was hidden until the moment it was found.
Citations marquantes
It was so emotional I shed a tear, it was one of those moments that will remain with me for life. Coming across something like this is absolutely totally fascinating, it's jaw dropping.— Carlos Magdalena, waterlily expert at Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew
This new giant waterlily can even be seen from space, which is a striking reminder of how much we still don't know about life on our planet.— Maarten Christenhusz, plant taxonomist
Envie de l'histoire complète ?
Lire l'original sur The Guardian ↗
Science & Space