Currently I have no photos of my alliums and I don't want to lift someone else's to put here. I would suggest you google if you want to see a photo, or better yet come out and see them in person!
Let's say your gardening skills stink, your yard is a hot
sunny wasteland, and rabbits run rampant
in your neighborhood. But you pine for
something that has pretty flowers on it, and maybe would coax some butterflies
into your yard. Before you drive to the dollar store and rifle through
the silk flowers and hope that no one will notice that your flowers never stop
blooming and never grow any taller, despite the fact that they appeared in your
garden overnight, check this out: Alliums may be just the thing for you.
Simply put, Alliums are members of the onion family. They all grow from a bulb of one size or
another and share some other characteristics between them. They all have onion-ish scented leaves. They all like full sun, average soil, and are very trouble free. Rabbits, deer and any other varmints you
might have don't like them. Bugs aren't
overly fond of eating the leaves either, but butterflies and bees are very
attracted to the flowers. And there are
flowers. Lots of flowers. Starting in July these two varieties begin
throwing their pinky/purple-y blooms that will look like so many starry, girly ping
pong balls. They both get to be about
18-24" tall, carrying their flowers over perfectly neat straplike
leaves. They stay in a clump shape and
make lovely little mounds. Eventually
the mounds will grow in size, but when that happens, they are super easy to manage. In the spring, dig the clump up and you will
see what look like scallions. Pull them
apart with your hands (hosing the root ball off will make this easier) into the
size you want. Replant the
clumps--either add more to your flower bed, or make some other struggling
gardener's day by engaging in the time honored practice of "pass
along" plants.
Once bloom is finished, you have your choice. "Mongolian Gem" will reseed itself,
so you may want to take the flower heads off.
As for the childless "Summer Beauty", just leave them
alone. The flower heads will dry and
still look so very pretty in your fall garden.
This will leave you free to do other joyous tasks like raking leaves and
cleaning up after your dogs before the snow flies. Come spring, the old stems pull out with
minimal effort, you scruff around and get the old leaves out of the clump and
you're off to the races. A worthy plant
on so many levels, and even though they are not native (From Tibet and Europe)
they provide nectar for a lot of insects.
If you want your alliums to have a friend of a similar look
and scale, I can't think of a finer
friend than Prairie Dropseed, either the standard size, or the dwarf sized
"Tara".
SPOROBOLIS--Prairie Dropseed
Since I listed this as a good companion to the Alliums in
the first post, it's time to tell you about Prairie Dropseed. I sell the regular variety, as well as a
dwarf version called "Tara".
Where to start--do you walk past the grass section at the
nursery. BORING. Or even worse do you have what my friend,
Ben, and I call "Hillbilly grass"--the big, clumsy miscanthus
varieties that will slice you to bits when you get near them, and grow into big
clumps that become a foliar bed of nails when you cut them back in spring? Do you have a pretty, polite garden that
would be okay with a grass if it didn't look
(and act) like some planty version of Godzilla next to your pretty
little flowers? You might be suprised to
find that there are a number of plants that meet this criteria--and you have
been probably breezing past them for years, en route to the hot red dahlias and
the icy blue salvias.
The fact that Prairie Dropseed is used in these challenging settings should also tell you something about its very undemanding care. Sporobolis is tolerant of hot sun and once established dry soils don't bother it either. In the spring I give mine a buzz cut with the clippers and scruff out the old blades from the clump. If it needed division--which it hasn't yet--I would dig it up and using a clean sharp knife, cut it into sections and replant.
ECHINACEA tennesseensis
A grand name for a grand plant. Say it at a party and impress your friends. It kind of rolls off the tongue and will seem ever so smart and stylish. And this is a smart and stylish plant to boot. While not native, I have seen quite a few insects on the blooms. It doesn't seem to attract butterflies or bees, but other nectar seeking insects are happy to patronize it. And while this is a BIG plant with a dramatic presence, it is very mild mannered in the garden. You have to be aware of the size it will grow to (well over 5 feet tall and probably 3 ft. wide) and not plant some delicate little foo foo thing at its feet. It's kind of like my dog, Shambles. She is ever so pretty and happy, and then she knocks dinner on the floor just because she wanted to put her feet up on the table to see what's cookin.
But in the right place, this is a plant that will stop traffic. It likes full sun and average soils with average water. A shovelful of compost in the spring is about all the extra feeding it needs. Growing to this great height, with clean leaves, it covers itself in early summer with white plumelike flowers. Despite its height and girth, it doesn't fall over, and more importantly--despite the plethora of flowers, you won't see a seedling anywhere. It apparently is sterile. And the big fingerlike rootstock doesn't roam around--your plant will stay right where you plant it and simply become bigger and grander and lovelier each year.
I have had some problems dividing this plant--so be careful if you attempt it. you may lose some of your divisions, so wait until the plant is large enough to give you something that will remain if some of your divisions die.
If you want something that looks like a mass planting in a somewhat small space--this plant will get you there. If you want a hedge or screen that will disappear in the winter--same thing. And certain kinds of light will take this plant from the (already) sublime to the downright transcendent. I put it in a central flower bed in my front yard. Not thinking about the fact that the eastern morning sun glows right across that part of my yard, I was amazed to see this plant illuminated on summer mornings by a brilliant shaft of light that sparkled across it. Didn't plan it, but I take credit for it ALL. THE. TIME.
The Aster family is big and diverse with many different species, from the tall Michaelmas daisy we see in our meadows late in summer to the shorter potted ones we spy in Wal Mart alongside the potted mums. At some point in time the genus name was changed from Aster to Symphiotrichum or Eurybium depending on the characteristics. Yeah--whatever. To me they are asters. After all--if your name was from the Greek word meaning "star" would you want somebody to change it to some word that looked like an eye chart????
Whatever the name, Asters are beautiful plants for the late summer garden. They are also vitally important to the insect world as nectar sources and as food for certain species of butterfly and moth larvae. Most of the moths I found when I looked them up on google were the kind of boring little brown guys you hardly even notice. But they are a food for the higher ups on the food chain (web) so while they aren't ornamental themselves, they nourish one part of the garden that is so beautiful to look at--and one of the main reasons we love our gardens--the birds. One little butterfly that is very dependent on Aster is the Pearl Crescent--a little orange speckled butterfly that I see in my yard a lot. The other thing the Asters bring me in abundance is BEES. If you are like me the sight of actively foraging bees in your garden has now changed in significance. From what was once a commonplace yawner of a thing is now a cause for great joy. When the asters are in flower my yard vibrates with the busy wingbeats of these blessed girls. And BTW did you know that bees also need places to go for a drink of water? I realized this one year when they began visiting a shallow spot in a water garden en masse one summer. If you don't have a water garden, take a small bowl and fill it with marbles for them to perch on, then fill the bowl with water. Put it where you see them congregating and keep the water changed. Don't disturb them when they are drinking and your garden will become a vital and favored place for them.
But grasses are boring, you say--i have a lawn full of
grass--why put it in my garden. So let
me tell you a little bit about Sporobolis.
Unlike our lawn grasses some
grasses grow in nice rounded clumps. Some of the clumps have leaves that kind
of stick straight up, so the clump looks like a sleeping hedgehog. Some of the clumps have longer leaves and
they poke up and then drift over in a sort of fountain effect. That is what the standard size Prairie
Dropseed does. The dwarf is more of the
hedgehog effect. But these lovely plants
stay where they are planted--they do not runner and aren't really aggressive
seeders as a rule. The clumps slowly get
bigger and grander as the plant ages.
When they do flower-they send up nice tall seedheads in a tawny color
that still looks wonderful. The blooms
are "see through" in that they do not block you from seeing what is
behind them--rather now you see through a gentle scrim of bloom.
The leaves of Prairie Dropseed are very fine and thin and of
a nice medium green. Between the texture
and the color, they enhance whatever they are planted with. And the rounded shape makes for a perfect
border planting. Along with their
propensity to be nice to their neighbors, they make them look good too! It's always wise (especially if you have a
garden of limited size--which most homes do) to consider whether your new plant
plays nice. This grass plays very nice,
and is often used in difficult sites like roadside plantings where plants have
to fend for themselves and not choke out the entire neighborhood. The fact that Prairie Dropseed is used in these challenging settings should also tell you something about its very undemanding care. Sporobolis is tolerant of hot sun and once established dry soils don't bother it either. In the spring I give mine a buzz cut with the clippers and scruff out the old blades from the clump. If it needed division--which it hasn't yet--I would dig it up and using a clean sharp knife, cut it into sections and replant.
Since it is native to our area, the local birds and critters
are familiar with it. The seeds are
favored by the birds--it is said they smell like popcorn. Not sure what the bird equivalent of movie
theatre butter is--bug guts or something.
It also wouldn't surprise me if some of the little ground sparrows
didn't use the grass blades to weave their delicate little nests. And
if you want a companion plant idea, Echinacea tenneseensis comes to mind!
Somewhere in the Cedar glades of Tennessee, there lived a
little pink flower. Because of certain
ecological events, it had become isolated from its relations, and developed
into a seperate species.
Once thought to
be extinct, it was found, protected by land purchases funded by The Nature
Conservancy, and has now been removed from the federal list of endangered
plants. Even so, it naturally occurs in
only a few places, and the variety we have in horticultural use is slightly
different from the pure form. That being
said, this is a wonderful , somewhat unique version of the vast tribe of
ornamental echinaceas--many of which are overbred to Frankensteinian
proportions, and have become almost useless to wildlife. It cannot be said to be a "true" E.
tennesseensis because once in cultivation the plant hybridizes freely and while
it may still look like its ancestral form, the genetic makeup is not pure. Often times sold as a cultivar (variety)
called "Rocky Top" the variety
I have is simply called "tenneseensis hybrids". This plant is lovely in sunny dry
sites. A taprooted plant, it needs nice
easy soil to grow in, a steady supply of moisture while establishing itself,
and then dry conditions when it matures.
IT IS VERY IMPORTANT that the
growing site is well drained. If you
have a clay type soil, do yourself a favor and pass this plant by. You may get one year of pretty growth, but
your baby will eventually rot out and disappear. Butterflies and bees adore this plant, and a
nice clump in full flower with its slender furry leaves and soft magenta-ish
daisy like blooms is really a lovely sight.
Once the bloom has passed, leave the seedheads alone, and you will be
treated in the fall to the sight of goldfinches hanging from the stems, like
pretty little pendants as they feed.
A magical, lovely presence in your garden. Thanks, Tennessee--I owe you one!
Persicaria polymorpha
Persicaria polymorpha (right side) in the morning light |
I have had some problems dividing this plant--so be careful if you attempt it. you may lose some of your divisions, so wait until the plant is large enough to give you something that will remain if some of your divisions die.
If you want something that looks like a mass planting in a somewhat small space--this plant will get you there. If you want a hedge or screen that will disappear in the winter--same thing. And certain kinds of light will take this plant from the (already) sublime to the downright transcendent. I put it in a central flower bed in my front yard. Not thinking about the fact that the eastern morning sun glows right across that part of my yard, I was amazed to see this plant illuminated on summer mornings by a brilliant shaft of light that sparkled across it. Didn't plan it, but I take credit for it ALL. THE. TIME.
Big. Easy. Dramatic. Fun to say at parties. What more do you need?
Echinacea paradoxa
Echinacea paradoxa
This morning I learned something new--the origin of the word
Echinacea is Greek and it means "sea urchin" or
"hedgehog". When you look at
the central cone of a cone flower you can understand why.
Coneflowers are some our most beautiful native flowers. They come in many forms, but not a wide
variety of colors. This is the
exception--hence the species name "paradoxa". Bewilderingly--it also seems to carry the
common name "Bush's Purple Coneflower". I can only surmise that whoever this
"Bush" was he or she was colorblind.
This is a YELLOW coneflower
And now for an educational (I hope) rant. Let's think for a minute about native plants
and why we want them in our yards.
Insects and plants have evolved together. Kind of like married couples--they spend
centuries (or what may seem like centuries to some people) in each other's company. As time goes on, because insects have rapid
regeneration times and lots of babies, and plants make lots of seeds--the
probability of mutation is high. Some of
these mutations turn out to be beneficial
for both the plants and insects in some way, and so as the population
shifts to include these helpful mutations, their lives become increasingly
woven together. And as go the insects,
so goes the food chain. (It's more of a web--but details-details!) More happy
healthy insects equals more happy healthy everything else--from spiders to mice
and birds to foxes and hawks and owls. A
plant that is so desperately yummy that the bugs eat it down to nothing won't
last long enough to form any kind of significant population--rather the plant
that is nice and edible but has some kind of defenses against the buggy onslaught will succeed. I have a species of dogwood that gets
defoliated every single year by a caterpillar that looks for all the world like
bird poop. (So the birds ignore
it). Knowing that caterpillars are quite
host specific (and the fact that this is the ONLY plant I ever see this
caterpillar eating) I just left well enough alone. I figured that the plant must have developed
a strategy to cope with the problem and wanted to see what would happen. The following year, the dogwood leafed out
just fine. It has been fine ever since. Turns out these are the larval form of the
Dogwood Sawfly--which eats the leaves but doesn't kill the plant, since it
happens so late in the year. And the
adults? Well--they damage plant leaves
to some extent, but they are also food for many birds--especially
Chickadees. It's a tradeoff I can live
with.
So what happens when we fill our yards with "RARE!!!
chinese sneezing orchids" or other denizens from faraway places, real or
imagined? If we are lucky, they will
provide something the fauna in our yards can use--nectar for energy, seeds to
eat, cover to hide in or nesting material.
But often times these plants fall short in the food department. The insects haven't co-evolved, so like fussy
children who don't eat their spinach, these vital insects refuse to take a
taste. And scientific evidence has found that insect populations adapt very
slowly to new food sources unless the food is from the same family
(Swallowtails can eat other members of the Queen Anne's Lace family like dill
and parsley, for example). If we are
lucky enough to have neighbors that still grow food plants, the bugs will just
favor their yards--and the population will restabilize at a lower level. But what if NOBODY has dandelions in their
(exotic plant filled) lawns, no goldenrod, no serviceberry trees, no violets, no hawthorns for miles around? There is no food--either for the insects
themselves or their kids. Is there any
wonder why neighborhoods are host to the same types of birds all over the
country? Sparrows and starlings--both
birds from other lands that eat garbage and scraps and whatever they can
find. Robins can forage in our lawns and
make a living, and House Finches can survive at our feeders. Maybe a Cardinal or two. The diversity in the insect world is gone,
and so the diversity of birds follows right in line. And they didn't use canaries in the coal
mines for no reason. Birds told the
miners of the habitability in the mine.
And they are telling us the same thing above the ground, in our own
yards.
So how does that relate to Echinacea paradoxa? This native plant has evolved in place with
the insects and birds and animals that share its home. And like most other Echinaceas that are still
close to their wild form, it provides a wonderful thread for the spinning of
the food web. Many insects feed on the
nectar of Echinaceas, and some feed on
the leaves (we call them "pests" but should refrain from spraying
them if at all possible). More than
likely there are critters underground who make use of the roots in some
way. And if you ever want to see happy
birds celebrating in your yard, Echinacea and Evening Primrose (the tall yellow
ones) will do the trick. The seeds are
much sought after food source. Goldfinches
and Pine Siskins will find you as sure as shootin'.
Now a cautionary word.
This particular Echinacea is really lovely. It like full sun to (slight) part shade and
must have well drained soil. It is quite
slow growing (after 3 years from starting seed I finally have plants that are
looking like actual plants, not seedlings) so you must be patient. While a
mature plant will be about 2 feet tall, they will be overwhelmed if they have
to compete with aggressive neighbors in the first year or two. So choose your planting site with care. Put them near something else that stays in a
clump or spreads slowly--like Sporobolis or Carex or Asclepias tuberosa (orange
butterfly weed). Mark your plant with a
nice permanent stake that won't disintegrate in winter or snap off when you
catch your heel on it and keep an eye on it.
Don't let it lanquish under 6 inches of oak leaves through the winter
that will rot it off. You won't need to
over feed or fertilize it either--just give it room to make its own way and let
it go. This is a plant that is most
effective planted in groups of 3 or so rather than single specimens. A single one won't have the impact you are
looking for because the plant itself is wispy and slender by nature--but they
were evolved to grow in groups, so they look best that way.
If you want Echinacea but aren't sure about taking on this
one--look for the old variety "Ruby Star" or "Rubinstern". Its pinky/purple like the species, but more
attractive, and very hardy and adaptable and will grow to a nice size with
ease.
Liatris
Liatris
Liatris with a very fleeting annual; "Miss Wilmott's Ghost" |
Okay--You want a garden that is friendly to wildlife. And you want pretty flowers. Fair enough--wildlife likes pretty flowers
too. Here is a genus of wildflowers that
delivers on the promise.
Liatris are native wildflowers with varying ranges depending
on the species, but most overlap to some extent. There are several that occur in Indiana, and
some that naturally come close to our borders but don't quite cross the boundary
Known in the florist trade for a long time because of their
very significant ornamental value, Liatris are as beloved by insects as they
are by people. Monarch butterflies are
highly attracted to the blooms of Liatris--if you want to develop an area for
Monarchs to use, plant swamp milkweed
(Asclepias incarnata) so they can lay their eggs and the babies can grow, and
then nectar sources, such as more milkweed (Asclepias tuberosa) and
Liatris. In addition for being a nectar
source, Liatris are used by certain butterflies and moths as food for their babies. Remember--moths and butterflies are host
specific--meaning that their babies (caterpillars) only feed on certain
things. I read a study of bagworms
(YUCK!) that were on a small tree. There
were so many bagworms on the tree that they ate all the leaves and were still
hungry. There was a honeysuckle vine
entwined in the tree, but the bagworms didn't touch the leaves of the
vine--once the tree leaves were all eaten down to nothing, the worms had no
more food. They had been climbing around
on the honeysuckle leaves but never even tried to taste them. So if you want butterflies and moths you
have to give them the right reasons to come.
Put up a "Ritz Carlton" sign in your yard and they will seek
the accommodations. Keep up with the
foreign, nectarless, nutritionally
bereft flowers and "Motel 6" will still be flashing away.
So where and how to use Liatris? Well first off, these are plants native to
prairie and rough scrabble areas. They
can often be found growing along railroad sidings in lean, gravelly
places. So that's a big clue that they
don't like a lot of moisture. Don't put
this one at the foot of your downspout or in a bog. Full sun and nice, well drained soil is what
they like. The overall plant is slender
and upright--so a group of two or three is most attractive. They aren't much bothered by pests, and deer
don't like them--although they will taste them to see first. Most Liatris get to be 18-36 inches
tall--and in spots they like they will self seed prolifically. Learn to identify the seedlings--they look
like small bits of grass with asymmetrical leaves. Since Liatris is a bulb, the little baby
plant will take a couple years to get to blooming size. It is lovely in combination with things
like black eyed susan, grasses, asters (it's a member of the aster family)
and the aforementioned asclepias. Be
careful not to overfertlize or mulch heavily--these plants don't need a lot of
food and they will get floppy and weak if you let them overindulge. And they don't like to have their roots in
soils that remain damp, as when areas are covered in a layer of deep mulch or
leaves. (Get the picture--LESS care is
what they like.)
I have two versions of this most useful plant--one actually
occurs naturally in Indiana--Liatris squarrosa, and the other has a natural range
that just kisses our Western border--Liatris ligulistylis. Ligulistylis actually is a little easier in
moister ground, so if you have heavier soil it's the one I would try.
ASTERS
ASTERS
The Aster family is big and diverse with many different species, from the tall Michaelmas daisy we see in our meadows late in summer to the shorter potted ones we spy in Wal Mart alongside the potted mums. At some point in time the genus name was changed from Aster to Symphiotrichum or Eurybium depending on the characteristics. Yeah--whatever. To me they are asters. After all--if your name was from the Greek word meaning "star" would you want somebody to change it to some word that looked like an eye chart????
Whatever the name, Asters are beautiful plants for the late summer garden. They are also vitally important to the insect world as nectar sources and as food for certain species of butterfly and moth larvae. Most of the moths I found when I looked them up on google were the kind of boring little brown guys you hardly even notice. But they are a food for the higher ups on the food chain (web) so while they aren't ornamental themselves, they nourish one part of the garden that is so beautiful to look at--and one of the main reasons we love our gardens--the birds. One little butterfly that is very dependent on Aster is the Pearl Crescent--a little orange speckled butterfly that I see in my yard a lot. The other thing the Asters bring me in abundance is BEES. If you are like me the sight of actively foraging bees in your garden has now changed in significance. From what was once a commonplace yawner of a thing is now a cause for great joy. When the asters are in flower my yard vibrates with the busy wingbeats of these blessed girls. And BTW did you know that bees also need places to go for a drink of water? I realized this one year when they began visiting a shallow spot in a water garden en masse one summer. If you don't have a water garden, take a small bowl and fill it with marbles for them to perch on, then fill the bowl with water. Put it where you see them congregating and keep the water changed. Don't disturb them when they are drinking and your garden will become a vital and favored place for them.
Okay--back to the Asters.
Most of them like full sun, but there are some that will grow in partial
or even fairly deep shade. The calico
aster is one, and so is big leaf aster--Aster macrophyllus. All of them bloom fairly late in the
summer--when the days are warm and lazy and the crickets are whirring away in
the grass. Some are tall, like my
personal favorite--a New England aster
named "Alma Potschke". This wonderful variety throws up volumes of
Raspberry red blooms in late summer that bees and butterflies can't
resist. I usually plant it in
association with my other all time favorite plant, Boltonia or false Aster, which
also produces clouds of small white daisies at the same time. Tall and airy, a cloud of flowers in the late
season. Throw in some kind of Bluestem
grass and you're just about to nirvana.
Some Asters are short and rounded. "October Skies" is an aromatic
Aster with a rounded shape. One haircut
before the forth of July will make it shorter and neater, and when late summer
rolls around you will have a wonderful cloud of lavender daisies. The leaves are slightly sticky and scented,
which means deer and rabbits will go find something else to wreck instead. And just like all the others, bees and
butterflies will thank you for the gift.
Aster laevis, "Bluebird" is the "Smooth
leafed Aster". It is also quite
tall with very pretty blue green leaves.
This one is not bothered by any leaf pests, and so looks tidy in that
respect. Overall, the impression is
casual and "wild" looking--but if you want a cloud of bloom at the
back of your flowerbed, this one is great for that. It's also beloved by butterflies, who flock
to its lavender flowers.
Asters main problems are usually fungal in nature--they have
co evolved with the insects that use them, and so normally tolerate being
munched on with a resilient humor. But
fungus is another problem--it can rot out and decimate your lovely plants--so
you need to head that off at the pass and pay attention to a couple things when
you plant them.
Soil that drains well is best--my soil is quite sandy, and
they are very happy here. They will
tolerate heavy soils to some extent--but you must make sure in that case to
space them well apart, so the air can circulate freely around them. It's best to forego any kind of spraying for
disease since so many insects utilize them.
Mulch is not needed--the excess moisture mulch retains won't do them any favors, and neither will an
overabundance of fertilizer. These are
plants of meadows and rough places.
That's what they like. Don't
pamper them.
Keep in mind that a few can spread aggressively. The main one I have that does this is Aster
macrophyllus. It's in a mostly shaded
spot and has overrun almost the entire bed.
So if you need a groundcover for dry-ish shade and are okay with a tall
plant growing there--this is one to consider.
Just be warned--it spreads like mad--so a small home garden might not be
suitable. Aster tartaricus "Jen
Dai" is another one. This extremely
late bloomer (October) is quite tall and stately--but the flowers come so late
it doesn't serve the insects in a timely manner. However the leaves are really beautiful and
since that's the part you see the longest, they can add a fun texture to the
area. But they need a lot of room to
roam. Not my top pick among the asters
due to its limited value to the ecology of a garden, but still a worthwhile one
to consider.
Late summer masses of color.
Low maintenance and a vital link in the food chain. Symphiotrichum or Aster--whatever you call
it. Get some!
Asarum canadense--Wild Ginger
Wild ginger is a true native of our area. It's widespread range includes most of the US
east of the Rockies. A plant of moist,
woodland soils, this lovely plant makes a wonderful ground cover. Used as a sort of condiment by native
Americans and the settlers, use of the food is now discouraged because it has
been shown to contain some cancer causing compounds. But for many years, the root of this plant
(which isn't in the ginger family at all--just resembles ginger in flavor) was
used as a treatment for sore throats and as a "spice" as well as a
dressing for wounds since it also contains some anti-microbial elements.
Boltonia "Snowbank" (left) and Aster "Alma Potschke" (right) What's not to like?? |
Asarum canadense--Wild Ginger
The life history of this plant is also very interesting, and
it's a good illustration of how plants and local fauna evolve together in ways
that benefit both. When wild ginger
flowers, the bloom is hidden below the leaves.
It's a curious little brown affair that sort of lays on the ground. It has been found that species of flies that
eat carrion hatch out and crawl into the flowers since they are little tubes on
the ground that resemble a piece of rotting meat in their color. The flies find a cozy shelter inside the
flower and some pollen to eat as they recover from hatching and coming out of
the ground. When they leave, whatever
pollen that got stuck to their bodies is taken on to the next flower they find,
and so cross pollination occurs. When the
plant develops a seed, it adds a little extra treat to the seed coat that ants
like to eat. The name given this little
treat is "elaiosome". Ants
forage for these treats, and when they find them they carry the seeds down into
their anthills and feed on them. The
seed is left intact after the elaiosome is eaten, and germinates underground in
the anthill. So basically the plant
employs the ant to plant its seeds, and pays the ants with a little snack for
doing the work.
In addition to this, Canadian wild ginger is widely believed
to be an alternate host for Pipevine swallowtail caterpillars. It is in the pipevine family which is the
primary host for these butterflies, and caterpillars can make use of this as
food, although it does not appear to be as widely used as their primary food
source. Virginia snakeroot, which is
also native to this area is a primary food source from the same family.
Wild ginger is a fairly polite companion for other shade
tolerant plants, and makes a great "native" addition to a shady
garden containing the non-native hostas and epimediums. It looks beautiful and quite at home with
spring ephemerals too--in a deciduous woody setting, nestled down in the leaf
litter.
Prairie Smoke
This lovely American native does not occur naturally in Indiana, but it does grow all around us, in IL and MI. A member of the Geum family (botanical name is Geum triflorum) it is a very pretty plant for a sunny area with average well drained soil. It can even be found growing in rough sites in gravel. The name comes from the seedhead, that looks from a distance like smoke--the seeds are on long filaments that spring out from the flower base--it kind of reminds me of the character "Beaker" from the Muppets' hairdo. The flower is also very pretty--a nodding little pink cap that comes in early summer. This plant is a useful food for species of bees and butterflies. The size is small--the clump of attractive fernlike leaves gets to be about a foot high, and the blooms stand somewhat taller at about 16-18 inches. It does spread underground by rhizomes--but so far in my garden the spread has not been overly aggressive. Mine are planted in very lean sandy soil that does get watered from time to time if we don't have rain. I would say that in 3 years the clump has about doubled in size. This is a plant that appreciates moderate moisture but cannot tolerate soils that remain soggy, especially in winter. Like most natives, it is undemanding in its culture. Very attractive when massed, especially from a distance when the seed heads are formed. Like most of these plants, it looks especially nice in the company of its natural friends. Prairie dropseed and Bluestem grasses make a lovely counterpoint in texture and color. Asters and goldenrod like similar conditions and also contrast in leaf type and height, and will extend the period of bloom.
Rudbeckia maxima
This is a wonderful plant that is native in the US
but does not naturally occur in Indiana.
It's natural habitat is in open woodlands or moist prairie situations
and that should be an indication of the growing conditions that it likes. My friend, Paul, has grown this for
years. His home is on a hill with very
sandy soil that gets minimal extra water.
With very few trees, the amount of shade in his large yard is
quite low, but even in these challenging conditions this plant does very
well. It self seeds freely for him in
his gravel pathways.
Prairie Smoke
This lovely American native does not occur naturally in Indiana, but it does grow all around us, in IL and MI. A member of the Geum family (botanical name is Geum triflorum) it is a very pretty plant for a sunny area with average well drained soil. It can even be found growing in rough sites in gravel. The name comes from the seedhead, that looks from a distance like smoke--the seeds are on long filaments that spring out from the flower base--it kind of reminds me of the character "Beaker" from the Muppets' hairdo. The flower is also very pretty--a nodding little pink cap that comes in early summer. This plant is a useful food for species of bees and butterflies. The size is small--the clump of attractive fernlike leaves gets to be about a foot high, and the blooms stand somewhat taller at about 16-18 inches. It does spread underground by rhizomes--but so far in my garden the spread has not been overly aggressive. Mine are planted in very lean sandy soil that does get watered from time to time if we don't have rain. I would say that in 3 years the clump has about doubled in size. This is a plant that appreciates moderate moisture but cannot tolerate soils that remain soggy, especially in winter. Like most natives, it is undemanding in its culture. Very attractive when massed, especially from a distance when the seed heads are formed. Like most of these plants, it looks especially nice in the company of its natural friends. Prairie dropseed and Bluestem grasses make a lovely counterpoint in texture and color. Asters and goldenrod like similar conditions and also contrast in leaf type and height, and will extend the period of bloom.
Rudbeckia maxima
R. maxima center right. You can see the leaves and blooms |
R. maxima is a lovely plant in so many ways. The large leaves are a glaucous blue color,
which explains one of the common names "Dumbo Ears". They stay in a basal rosette, and the glorious
flowering stem towers above at a height of 4 feet or more. The stems are nearly leafless, and carry a long dark
coneflower at the top, with a deep brown, almost black cone and drooping yellow
petals. Butterflies are very attracted
to this flower, but the real show begins after blooming when the seeds
form. Goldfinches find the seeds
irresistible. The cover photo on the
blog shows just exactly that--this photo was snapped out of my office window in
the fall, not 20 feet away from where I was sitting.
This is a plant that likes average soils but even
moisture. While Paul's plants seem to
thrive with less than ideal moisture, it will be happier if you water it deeply
during periods of drought, especially the first year it's planted. The plant will develop a nice long taproot,
which also means it resents transplanting, so choose the site with care. The clumps will take about 2 years to develop
into their full, beautiful form, so you need to be patient. But when they establish and do their magic
they truly are a sight to behold. I
leave the seedheads intact until spring, since they provide some winter
interest too. Mine have not seeded
themselves yet, but I suspect the goldfinches are the reason why.
A really beautiful and worthwhile plant for a
sunny spot that needs something tall but not massive in appearance.