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Behind every breathtaking garden at a royal estate, a Rothschild villa, or a celebrated Chelsea show garden lies a supply chain that most visitors never see and few gardeners ever consider. The trade in elite plant propagation material \u2014 seeds, cuttings, and bulbs \u2014 is a discreet, global, and surprisingly complex industry governed by intellectual property law, phytosanitary regulation, gentlemen’s agreements, and a centuries-old culture of botanical rivalry and generosity. It is a world where a single envelope of seed can be worth thousands of pounds, where a cutting slipped into a jacket pocket at a plant fair can represent years of a breeder’s work, and where the line between sharing and theft is fiercely contested.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This guide examines how propagation material moves from breeder to nursery to collector to garden \u2014 and what happens, legallyand commercially, along the way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The most coveted plants in horticulture are almost always the product of systematic breeding programmes. Major players include specialist nurseries, botanical institutions, and private breeders working in narrow niches \u2014 daylilies in Georgia, dahlias in the Netherlands, tree peonies in China and Japan, roses in France and England.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A breeding programme for a new rose variety at a firm like Meilland or David Austin typically takes ten to fifteen years from initial cross-pollination to commercial release. During that period, thousands of seedlings are grown, assessed, and discarded before a handful of candidates are selected for trialling. The resulting plant \u2014 if it passes disease resistance tests, proves commercially stable, and meets aesthetic standards \u2014 may eventually be protected under Plant Breeders’ Rights (PBR) or its American equivalent, Plant Patent. Only then does propagation material enter the formal trade.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Many exclusive gardens source plants at this pre-release stage, through relationships with breeders who provide trial material in exchange for feedback from conditions the breeder cannot replicate in their own trials.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Botanical gardens have long played a dual role: conserving genetic diversity and distributing it. The Index Seminum \u2014 the annual seed list exchanged between botanical institutions worldwide \u2014 is one of horticulture’s oldest trading mechanisms. Gardens including Kew, Edinburgh, Berlin-Dahlem, and the Arnold Arboretum circulate thousands of seed accessions each year, nominally as scientific exchange but practically as a pipeline through which rare and newly collected species enter cultivation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Private collectors tap into this system through membership of specialist plant societies \u2014 the Alpine Garden Society, the Hardy Plant Society, the American Peony Society \u2014 each of which runs its own seed exchange programmes. Access to the most sought-after material often depends on what a member contributes, creating a barter economy in seed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Though the era of the great Victorian plant hunters is long past, field collection continues. Contemporary expeditions by institutions such as Kew, the Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh, and the Quarryhill Botanical Garden in California bring back seed from the wild, subject to the Nagoya Protocol \u2014 an international framework requiring that the country of origin receives a share of any commercial benefit arising from the use of its genetic resources.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For private gardens, this material arrives through a longer chain: institution to specialist nursery to collector. The time between a seed being collected in a Yunnan valley and a cutting of the resulting plant being sold at a specialist fair in England may be fifteen years or more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Seeds are the most portable and least regulated form of propagation material \u2014 at least for open-pollinated species not protected by intellectual property. A paper packet weighing a few grams can represent an entire species’ genetic diversity or a single precious F1 hybrid. The challenges in the seed trade are threefold: viability, identity, and legality.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Viability is the most immediate concern. Many of the most sought-after plants \u2014 Meconopsis, Primula, and most woodland species \u2014 have seeds that lose viability rapidly and must be sown fresh. The logistics of getting fresh Himalayan poppy seed from a Tibetan plateau to a garden in Scotland before it dies require planning that borders on the military. Seeds of this kind circulate through specialist networks at remarkable speed, sometimes transferred at the point of collection itself via contacts who travel with expeditions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Identity is a chronic problem. The seed trade, particularly at the informal end, runs on trust and reputation. Mislabelling \u2014 whether accidental or deliberate \u2014 is endemic. Collectors who receive seed of a supposedly rare Trillium from a society exchange and grow it for five years before discovering it is a common species have no recourse. The most reputable seed houses invest heavily in provenance documentation for this reason, and elite gardens increasingly require DNA verification for material used in scientific or conservation planting schemes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Legality is the most complex dimension. F1 hybrid seeds are typically protected: saving and redistributing them is a breach of the breeder’s rights. Many ornamental varieties are additionally protected by variety registration, making it illegal to sell seed even of open-pollinated selections without a licence. The enforcement of these rules at the amateur end of the market is near-impossible, but at the commercial level \u2014 where a nursery might sell hundreds of thousands of units \u2014 infringement is vigorously prosecuted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Cuttings \u2014 stem, leaf, or root \u2014 are the primary vehicle for clonal propagation: the reproduction of a plant genetically identical to its parent. This is how named cultivars are maintained. A David Austin rose labelled ‘Gertrude Jekyll’ in a garden in New Zealand is, in principle, genetically identical to the original selection made in England in the 1980s, because it has been propagated by cuttings through a licensed chain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The commercial cutting trade is dominated by a small number of multinational propagation companies \u2014 D\u00fcmmen Orange, Selecta One, Ball Horticultural \u2014 who produce tens of millions of rooted cuttings each year, primarily of annual bedding plants and perennials. These companies operate propagation facilities in low-labour-cost countries (Kenya, Costa Rica, Guatemala, Ethiopia) where cuttings are taken, rooted under mist, and shipped as young plants to growers in Europe and North America.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For exclusive gardens, the relevant cutting trade operates at a far smaller scale but with considerably higher stakes per unit. A cutting of a newly introduced Hydrangea paniculata selection, or of a variegated Cornus not yet in commercial release, might change hands between specialist nurseries for sums that seem absurd against the size of the material. The value lies entirely in the genetic information encoded in the plant, and in the years of work required to reach the point of having cuttable material.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bulbs \u2014 including true bulbs, corms, tubers, and rhizomes \u2014 occupy a distinct position in the trade because they are, in themselves, storage organs designed by evolution for exactly the kind of dormant travel that commerce requires. The Dutch bulb industry, centred on the Bollenstreek region south of Haarlem, is the world’s largest, exporting billions of units annually. But the trade in elite bulbs \u2014 species tulips, rare alliums, show dahlias, named snowdrop cultivars \u2014 operates through entirely different channels.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Snowdrops (Galanthus species and cultivars) have generated a particular cult, and with it a particular market. A named cultivar such as ‘E.A. Bowles’ or ‘Atkinsii’ might fetch modest sums, but newer, more unusual selections command prices that have attracted the attention of both serious collectors and \u2014 at the extreme end \u2014 thieves. Several high-profile cases of snowdrop theft from private gardens have been prosecuted in the United Kingdom, reflecting the fact that a single bulb of a sought-after variety can change hands for hundreds of pounds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dahlia tubers occupy a similarly interesting position. The National Dahlia Collection holds hundreds of varieties, some of which have not been commercially available for decades. When tubers from such collections are divided and distributed, they enter a grey market where the distinction between sharing and selling blurs considerably.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Plant Breeders’ Rights (PBR), known in the United States as Plant Patents or Plant Variety Protection, grant the breeder of a new variety exclusive rights over its commercial propagation for a fixed period \u2014 typically 25 years for trees and vines, 20 years for other species. During this time, anyone wishing to propagate and sell the variety must obtain a licence from the rights holder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The system was designed to incentivise breeding by ensuring breeders could recoup their investment. It has largely succeeded in this aim: the ornamental horticulture industry has seen an enormous proliferation of new varieties since PBR became widely adopted in the 1960s and 1970s. But it has also created tensions. The “breeders’ exemption” allows other breeders to use protected varieties for further breeding without a licence \u2014 but the precise boundaries of this exemption are regularly contested. The “farmers’ privilege” (in the EU, allowing farmers to save seed of certain protected varieties for their own use) does not generally extend to ornamental plants.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For exclusive gardens, PBR matters in a specific way: gardens that propagate their own plants for sale \u2014 at open days, through plant societies, or commercially \u2014 must ensure they have licences for any protected varieties they multiply. Many famous gardens have been caught out by this; the National Trust, for example, has had to audit its propagation programmes carefully to ensure compliance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD) and its Nagoya Protocol establish that genetic resources \u2014 including plant material collected from the wild \u2014 are the sovereign property of the country in which they are found. Any commercial benefit arising from their use must be shared with that country under an “Access and Benefit Sharing” agreement.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In practice, this means that a British nursery wishing to commercialise a plant discovered during a collecting expedition to Turkey, South Africa, or China must have a documented ABS agreement with the relevant national authority. The paperwork required is substantial, the timelines are long, and many smaller nurseries simply lack the capacity to navigate it. The result is a chilling effect on the commercialisation of wild-collected material \u2014 a problem for conservation, since commercial incentive is one of the few reliable mechanisms for bringing wild species into cultivation and thereby reducing pressure on wild populations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES) regulates the movement of listed plants across international borders. Several horticultural families are subject to CITES controls, including all orchids (Orchidaceae, Appendix II), all cacti (Cactaceae, Appendix II), and many cycads (Appendix I, the most restrictive category). Moving CITES-listed material across borders \u2014 even seed \u2014 without the correct permits is a criminal offence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The orchid trade illustrates the complexity. A specialist nursery in the UK importing flask-raised seedlings of a Dracula orchid from a Colombian grower needs both a CITES export permit from Colombia and a CITES import permit from the UK. The permits must specify the species, quantity, and method of propagation (artificially propagated material is treated more leniently than wild-collected). The cost and delay involved means that only the most commercially valuable species receive formal treatment; rarer and less commercially interesting species are frequently moved without permits, particularly at the hobbyist level.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Every country has a National Plant Protection Organisation (NPPO) responsible for preventing the introduction of plant pests and diseases through imported material. In the United Kingdom, this is the Animal and Plant Health Agency (APHA); in the United States, APHIS (the Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service); in the European Union, individual member state NPPOs operate within a unified EU framework.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The system works through phytosanitary certificates \u2014 official documents issued by the NPPO of the exporting country, certifying that the material has been inspected and found free of listed pests and diseases. Importers must hold a Plant Health Licence and agree to grow imported material in conditions that allow inspection. For high-value material, a period of quarantine (post-entry quarantine, or PEQ) may be required, during which the plants are grown in isolation and inspected over one or more growing seasons before being released into general cultivation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Post-Brexit, the UK’s relationship with EU plant trade has become markedly more complicated. Material that previously circulated freely between a Dutch nursery and a Scottish garden now requires phytosanitary certification. The additional cost and delay have disrupted supply chains and incentivised some UK nurseries to establish propagation facilities within the EU.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Some plant material cannot be legally imported at all, regardless of certification. The UK maintains a list of prohibited plants \u2014 species and genera associated with significant pest and disease risk that are banned from import to prevent establishment of new threats. The US maintains a similar list. Navigating these lists requires specialist knowledge: a genus may be prohibited while closely related species are not, or a species may be freely traded as seed but prohibited as growing material.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The most significant plant health threats in recent years have arrived through precisely the kind of trade channels described in this guide. Xylella fastidiosa, the bacterial pathogen that has devastated olive groves across southern Italy, was almost certainly introduced through infected plant material. Ash dieback (Hymenoscyphus fraxineus) spread through Europe on imported ash saplings. Box blight (Cylindrocladium buxicola) arrived in the UK on box plants imported from continental nurseries. Each of these outbreaks illustrates the tension between the horticulture industry’s reliance on international trade and the biosecurity risks that trade inevitably creates.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Notwithstanding the formal regulatory architecture, an enormous volume of plant material continues to move informally \u2014 in pockets at plant fairs, in padded envelopes between society members, in the luggage of returning travellers. This informal trade is the lifeblood of the specialist plant community and the primary mechanism by which rare and unusual material reaches collectors and gardens. It is also a significant biosecurity risk and, where protected varieties are involved, a legal grey area.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Customs authorities in most countries have neither the resources nor the botanical knowledge to reliably identify plant material in travellers’ luggage. A few seeds wrapped in a tissue and tucked into a book will pass through most airport security unchallenged. The risk is real but largely unquantified: most such transfers result in no harm, but the occasional introduction of a new pest or pathogen on informally moved material is an ever-present danger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The primary commercial channel for elite plant material is the specialist nursery. These are typically small businesses \u2014 often family-run, sometimes one-person operations \u2014 focused on a single genus or a narrow range of related plants. Their catalogues, whether printed or online, are the essential reference points for serious collectors. Names like Phedar Nursery (hellebores), Kevock Garden Plants (primulas and woodland plants), or Edelweiss Perennials (in the US, an importer of European perennials) command intense loyalty among their customers, who will wait years for availability of specific plants.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The pricing of specialist nursery stock reflects the true cost of production in a way that mass-market horticulture does not. A small pot of a difficult alpine that has taken three years to reach saleable size, propagated from seed collected on a specific expedition, legitimately carries a price of twenty or thirty pounds. Collectors who understand the economics readily pay it; gardeners accustomed to mass-market prices find it shocking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Chelsea Physic Garden Plant Fair, the RHS Chelsea Flower Show, Plant Heritage’s annual event, the Rare Plant Fair circuit in the UK, and equivalent events in the US, Europe, and Australasia are the physical markets where specialist material changes hands at speed. For exhibitors, a good fair can represent a significant proportion of annual revenue. For buyers, it is the opportunity to acquire material that never appears in any catalogue and to establish relationships with the growers who hold it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At the highest-value end of this market \u2014 newly introduced named snowdrops, rare cyclamen, species roses not yet in commerce \u2014 transactions take on the character of an art market. Prices are set by what the traffic will bear, and what the traffic will bear is determined by the depth of a very small pool of committed buyers. A new snowdrop cultivar introduced by a respected galanthophile may fetch \u00a3100 or more for a single bulb at initial release, declining toward mainstream prices only as stocks are built up over subsequent years.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The internet has profoundly democratised the exchange of plant propagation material while also making enforcement of plant health and intellectual property law considerably harder. Platforms including eBay, Etsy, Facebook groups, and specialist forums facilitate daily trading in seeds, cuttings, and bulbs across national borders, most of it illegal in some dimension \u2014 either because the sellers lack appropriate horticultural licences, because the material is protected by PBR, or because the international movement is not covered by phytosanitary certification.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Regulators are aware of this and periodically attempt enforcement actions. The US Department of Agriculture has run sting operations targeting eBay sellers offering illegally imported bulbs. The UK’s APHA has prosecuted sellers of unlicensed plant material. But the scale of the informal trade vastly exceeds the capacity of any regulatory body to police.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For commercial propagation, the licensing system is the engine of the formal trade. A breeder who develops a new variety typically licenses it to a propagation company, which produces rooted cuttings or divisions at scale and licenses those to growers, who sell the finished plants to retailers or end-users. At each stage, a royalty flows back toward the breeder. For a highly successful variety \u2014 a top-selling Proven Winners annual, a David Austin rose \u2014 the royalty income can sustain an entire breeding programme.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The terms of licences vary enormously. Some breeders grant exclusive licences to a single propagator for a territory; others offer open licences to any qualified nursery. Exclusivity commands a premium: a propagator who holds exclusive UK rights to a major new introduction can charge significantly more than the market rate, at least until the licence expires or is opened up. The negotiation of these licences \u2014 and the enforcement of their terms \u2014 is a substantial legal industry in itself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alongside the formal commercial trade, a parallel gift economy operates among serious collectors and gardeners. Material that is not yet in commerce \u2014 new seedlings, divisions of rare plants, trial varieties \u2014 moves through networks of personal relationships governed by norms of reciprocity and reputation. A head gardener at a famous estate who receives trial material from a breeder is expected to reciprocate: with feedback, with future custom, with introductions to other influential gardeners. A collector who receives a cutting of a rare Magnolia from a fellow enthusiast is expected, in due course, to share something equally valuable in return.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This gift economy has deep roots. The great Victorian plant collectors depended on networks of correspondents \u2014 clergy, colonial administrators, amateur botanists \u2014 who sent specimens in exchange for introductions and recognition. The societies formed around particular genera (the Cyclamen Society, the Scottish Rock Garden Club) formalised and regulated these exchanges. They continue to do so.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The head gardeners of great estates occupy a peculiar position in this ecosystem. They are employees of their gardens but participants in a wider community of practice that transcends any single employer. A head gardener at a National Trust property, a Royal garden, or a celebrated private estate has access to material \u2014 and to breeders, collectors, and institutions \u2014 that most nursery professionals never encounter. Their networks are cultivated over careers, and they carry those networks with them when they move between positions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For exclusive gardens, the quality of the head gardener’s network is a significant determinant of the garden’s plant palette. A gardener with deep connections to the specialist nursery world and to botanical institutions will, over time, assemble a collection that money alone cannot buy \u2014 not because the money isn’t available, but because much of the best material is never offered for sale at all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The informal norms of the plant-sharing community place high value on generosity and low value on appropriation. A collector who receives material from another and then commercialises it without acknowledgement or compensation is guilty of a serious breach of etiquette \u2014 not necessarily of law, but of the social compact that makes the sharing economy function. The plant world has its own mechanisms for enforcing this norm: reputation damage, exclusion from networks, public calling-out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The boundaries become blurry when amateurs breed new plants from shared material and then seek PBR protection. If a collector receives seed of an unusual Helleborus from a botanical garden, grows it on, selects a particularly fine seedling, and applies for Plant Breeders’ Rights over that seedling, they are doing nothing illegal \u2014 but they may be doing something that the source institution would consider ethically questionable. The Nagoya Protocol’s access and benefit-sharing provisions were partly designed to address this dynamic at the international level, though their practical application at the amateur scale remains limited.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A head gardener or curator seeking to acquire elite plant material for a prestigious garden operates through several parallel channels simultaneously. Commercial specialist nurseries are the backbone: relationships built over years mean that favoured customers are contacted first when rare material becomes available, before it reaches any catalogue. Membership of specialist plant societies provides access to seed exchanges and events where desirable material circulates. Relationships with botanical institutions \u2014 Kew, Edinburgh, Dublin, the great continental gardens \u2014 open doors to material in cultivation that has never been commercially released.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For historic gardens with a specific plant palette to maintain \u2014 a garden planted in the Arts and Crafts tradition, say, or a garden associated with a particular plant collector \u2014 the challenge is not just acquiring interesting plants but acquiring the right plants: historically appropriate varieties, authentic cultivars, plants with documented provenance. This requires archival research as well as horticultural skill, and has generated a specialist discipline of garden history that informs procurement decisions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The great gardens do not rely solely on external supply. Most have their own propagation facilities \u2014 glasshouses, frames, propagation benches \u2014 where plants are multiplied from existing stock, grown from collected seed, or raised from material received from specialist sources. In-house propagation reduces dependence on external suppliers, builds stocks of rare material, and generates plants for sale to visitors and at open days.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The skill base required for this is substantial. Propagation from seed requires knowledge of dormancy mechanisms, stratification requirements, and germination conditions for hundreds of species. Cutting propagation demands understanding of rooting hormones, wounding techniques, humidity management, and the precise timing that differs across species and through the seasons. Many great gardens have specialist propagators whose knowledge is as important to the garden as the head gardener’s design vision.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Gardens operating at the highest level increasingly apply formal due diligence to their plant acquisition. This means checking PBR status before propagating named varieties, ensuring phytosanitary certificates accompany imported material, and maintaining records of provenance that satisfy both legal requirements and the expectations of plant health authorities in the event of a disease outbreak.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The impetus for this rigour has increased as enforcement has intensified. The RHS, which operates some of the most scrutinised gardens in the world, has developed detailed procurement protocols. The National Trust, with its obligation of stewardship over publicly held properties, requires its gardens to comply with all intellectual property and plant health legislation \u2014 a significant administrative burden for gardens that might be managing collections of several thousand different taxa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Tissue culture \u2014 the propagation of plants from tiny explants of meristematic tissue under sterile laboratory conditions \u2014 has transformed the economics of clonal propagation for certain categories of plant. Plants that are difficult or impossible to propagate by conventional cuttings (many orchids, some ferns, recalcitrant woody species) can be produced in very large numbers via tissue culture once a protocol is established.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For exclusive gardens, tissue culture offers two things: access to material that would otherwise be unobtainable (several species have been rescued from extinction in the wild and maintained in cultivation only through tissue culture programmes), and the assurance of disease-free stock (tissue culture is the primary method for virus-elimination in vegetatively propagated crops). Some specialist nurseries \u2014 particularly in the orchid and hosta worlds \u2014 have invested in in-house tissue culture facilities to produce clean stock of their most valuable varieties.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As the value of named plant cultivars has increased, so has the demand for certainty about their identity. DNA fingerprinting, which can definitively establish whether a plant is what it is claimed to be, is increasingly used in legal disputes over plant identity and in quality assurance programmes at major nurseries. Several high-profile cases in the dahlia and hosta worlds \u2014 where valuable named varieties were found to have been substituted with inferior plants at some point in the supply chain \u2014 have accelerated the adoption of molecular verification.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For the most exclusive gardens, DNA verification of historically significant or very valuable acquisitions is becoming standard practice. The cost has fallen dramatically as sequencing technology has improved; a basic genetic fingerprint can now be obtained for a few dozen pounds per sample.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Climate change is altering the plant palette available to gardeners and the viability of established horticultural practices. It is also driving renewed investment in seed banking \u2014 the cryogenic preservation of seed at low temperatures, preventing deterioration and providing insurance against the loss of material in cultivation or in the wild.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Millennium Seed Bank at Wakehurst, operated by Kew, holds seeds of over 40,000 species. For horticultural species, the parallel structures are less developed, but several specialist societies now maintain seed banking programmes for the varieties under their stewardship. For exclusive gardens, participation in such programmes is both a conservation contribution and an insurance policy: a garden’s unique collection of a particular genus is vulnerable to a single catastrophic event \u2014 a disease outbreak, a flood, an unusually severe winter \u2014 and seed banking provides a form of backup.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The trade in flower seeds, cuttings, and bulbs before they reach the world’s most exclusive gardens is a microcosm of broader tensions in the global economy: between open exchange and intellectual property, between free movement and biosecurity, between the gift economy of specialists and the commercial logic of the wider market. It is also a remarkably human trade, sustained by relationships, reputation, and passion in ways that purely commercial markets rarely are.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For the head gardeners and curators who navigate it daily, it is simply the work \u2014 the constant, absorbing, never-quite-finished project of assembling and maintaining a living collection in which every plant has a history, and in which the next acquisition is always somewhere in prospect, growing in a frame or flask or envelope that has not yet arrived.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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Behind every breathtaking garden at a royal estate, a R […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4350","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"\n