Wildflower Wednesday: Invited Guests and the Party Crashers

It has been a long time since I have participated in Gail's Wildflower Wednesday.  It's been a busy summer with little time for blogging, but it also seems that most of the native plants I have don't start blooming until late summer.  I've learned so much about native plants over the years from Gail and the WW posts and added more of them to my garden as I've learned about their benefits to pollinators.  So I'm very happy to join in once again with some of the late bloomers from my garden.

If you've read my last few posts, you know that the current star of my garden is Rudbeckia triloba, also known as Brown-eyed Susan.  In fact, it's pretty hard to miss as it's taken over the front of the Lily Bed as well as parts of the Butterfly Garden.  A volunteer that mysteriously appeared in my garden a few years ago, it has made itself quite at home here.  But you can never have too many Susans, right?

Joe-Pye weed is still hanging on at the back of the butterfly garden.  As I've mentioned before, this is definitely the native species of Eutrochium purpureum because the stems are green, not purplish, and the flowerheads not as showy a pink as many of the other types.

'Little Joe,' however, has much prettier flowers and the dark purple stems that I love.  I'd like to plant more of the taller Joes with this coloring at the back of the butterfly garden, but first I have to contend with the semi-thugs that have taken up residence there . . .

 . . . the Obedient Plants.  I have a love-hate relationship with this plant:  I hate its aggressiveness and pull out numerous seedlings in the spring, but in the fall I love these white, pink, and purple blooms.

I noticed today that the pinkish blossoms actually have freckles and remind me of foxglove blooms.  Since I have never had much luck with foxgloves in my garden, perhaps I should change my attitude and think of these as the poor-man's foxglove.  The bees like them, no matter their name.

Although I have planted more natives over the past few years, the most prominent and prolific ones seem to be the ones I didn't plant.  Common Evening Primrose Oenothera biennis is one of those mystery plants that suddenly appear in my garden and I allow to let grow because I'm not sure if it's a weed or something I actually planted and forgot about.

At 6-7 feet tall, it's hard to ignore.  The flowers remain open from evening till morning, but might also stay open on a cloudy day.

Despite its classification as a "Prairie Wildflower" by the Illinois Wildflowers website, I'd classify it as a weedy wildflower.  It has a long taproot, which explains why my efforts to eradicate it have been unsuccessful.  Still, these pretty little yellow flowers are rather attractive, and they do attract moths and the occasional hummingbird and bees, so I guess they're not all bad.

Bees also like thistle as do various birds, including the goldfinches.  However, there are more than enough plants here for the bees and plenty of coneflowers for the finches, so this lone thistle--definitely a weed in my opinion--is going to have to go.

Another volunteer that appears every year is the Pokeweed.  It's another one of those with a long taproot, which is why my simply cutting it off after it blooms never quite gets rid of it.

Because it has been well-mannered so far, I usually leave it alone for awhile so the birds can enjoy the berries.  The berries, as you can see, aren't ripe yet, but when they are, they'll be a deep dark purple.  They are toxic to humans, though, and can stain your hands, so I will definitely let the birds pick them!

Goldenrod is also just beginning to bloom. I'm not sure what type this is, because all the plants are volunteers.  And talk about volunteers--it would take over my garden if I let it!   I pull some of the excess seedlings every year, but I leave the rest because, besides its value to insects, it really does make a pretty backdrop for other flowers, like these seedheads of the gray-headed coneflowers.  It also makes a nice filler for flower arrangements.

As you can see, many of the natives in my garden are actually volunteers, probably gifts from the birds.  Too often it seems the natives I actually plant in my garden don't germinate or disappear, probably overcome by the thugs already there.  But sometimes I am pleasantly surprised, as I was by the plant I wanted to focus on this month.

A few weeks ago I noticed a few tall plants amidst the emerging goldenrod and asters.  I was pretty sure they were weeds until I noticed small flowerbuds on them.  I was intrigued and decided to leave them alone.  Thank goodness I did!  When they bloomed, I was finally able to identify them as Common Sneezeweed, Helenium Autumnale.

A few facts about this Sneezeweed:

• Zone 3-8, blooms August --October
• 3-5 feet tall with not much branching but an abundance of flowers
• likes wet to moist conditions--we had the perfect spring/early summer for it this year
• the foliage is bitter and toxic, with some reports of livestock poisoning from it
• despite the name, it does not cause sneezing.  In the past, the leaves and flowers were dried and used as snuff, hence the name

Common visitors to the Sneezeweed include all kinds of bees, some wasps, Syrphid flies, butterflies, and beetles.  Most suck the nectar, but some also collect the pollen.

So how did these pretty bee-magnets find their way into my garden?? I doubted they were volunteers, so I searched through my garden journals, and sure enough, I discovered that I had purchased a seedling at our local Prairie Plant Society sale two years ago.  Because I had seen no sign of it the past two years, I had forgotten all about it--thank goodness I didn't pull it out!  Sometimes there are benefits to being forgetful--it makes for some happy surprises every year in the garden:)  Aside from that, seeing the Sneezeweed in full bloom gives me hope that some of the other natives I've planted in the past two years and haven't seen a sign of may just be biding their time and will surprise me next year.

I am enjoying all these late additions to the garden, whether they were invited or not.  For more information on wildflowers and natives, be sure to visit our gracious hostess Gail at Clay and Limestone.

Wildflower Wednesday: Mystery Aster

Why am I always late for Wildflower Wednesday?  I don't mean a couple days late: our hostess Gail of Clay and Limestone celebrates wildflowers all month long and isn't fussy about deadlines for her monthly meme.  No, I'm talking about being a whole month late.

Back in late September I had planned to show off the New England asters that have taken over were blooming in the small butterfly/native garden.

In September these purple and various pink blooms were covered with all kinds of bees filling up with nectar for the long winter ahead.

There were also butterflies a-plenty back in September in this little backyard garden, including the late-arriving Painted Ladies, sharing the goodness with the bees.

Most of the goldenrod was also blooming back in September, its bright yellow blooms covered with all kinds of little critters.

Oh, I could have done a nice little post just on the asters and goldenrod blooming in September.  But you see, I was waiting for something else.  Two tall plants had suddenly, or so it seemed, emerged at the very back of the butterfly garden.  Earlier, I had mistakenly thought they were Obedient Plant, because the stems and leaves looked somewhat similar.  But as they grew and grew, reaching five feet, and began to show small little buds on the top stems, I realized they were something entirely different.  But what were they?

This would make an interesting addition to my Wildflower Wednesday post, I thought, and so I waited as September turned into October.  The buds turned a pinkish cast, but still did not open.

While I waited, I tried to figure out what these two plants could be.  I didn't remember planting anything in this corner, and I searched my garden journal for native plant purchases in the last year or two, with nothing noted that would look anything like this.  I consulted my two favorite wildflower references without much luck either.  Perhaps it was an Aster tataricus,  a tall, late-blooming aster.  But the leaves are alternate, and one source said this aster's leaves were opposite.  Could it be a Vernonia, or Ironweed, which does have alternate leaves?  I began to hope it was Ironweed, a plant I've always wanted to add to this area.  Only time would tell .  . .

While one week turned into the next, another flower suddenly burst into bloom at the front of the butterfly garden.  This wildflower is no stranger here, usually appearing in the fall in various places around the outbuildings.  Some time ago  I identified this as a Aster pilosus or Frost aster, also called a Hairy Aster, though I'm not 100% positive that is correct.

This is definitely a weedy wildflower and not to everyone's taste.  I usually pull them when they appear throughout the garden, but I was too lazy didn't have time to pull this one before it bloomed, and I'm actually glad I left it alone.  The bees don't care whether it's some fancy type of aster or a weedy one.  Meanwhile, back to the mystery plant . . .

After weeks of waiting, the blooms on my tall mystery plant finally appeared.  Definitely not Ironweed!  The blooms are those of an aster, but what kind?

Perhaps it's an Aster tataricus, but it doesn't quite look like the images I've found.  I have trouble distinguishing one aster--or Symphyotrichum for botanical purists--from another.  Its tall, sturdy stem sways in the breeze, but doesn't bend; it's nice to have a tall plant at the back of the garden that doesn't need staking.

The asters in the early photos have long since faded to brown, but after two weeks, this maybe-aster is still blooming, and I am no closer to solving the mystery of its identity.  I also haven't solved the mystery of how it came to be in my garden.  Perhaps it's just another of the many gifts I receive each year from the birds sharing seeds with me.  Whatever this plant is, I'm enjoying its late blooms in my garden.


Wildflower Wednesday is hosted the fourth Wednesday of every month by Gail of Clay and Limestone.  

Wildflower Wednesday: Signs of Fall

Is there anything better than a perfect fall day?  Cooler temperatures means you welcome the sun shining down rather than complaining at the discomfort.  The air seems crisper and full of pleasant aromas.  The song of birds and humming of insects seems louder as they enjoy the bounty of the season.   This is the time of year, next to spring, that I enjoy best.

Blackberry lilies in July

Though the garden is slowly dying back, and blooms are not as obvious as in July or even August, there is still some beauty to be found.  The Blackberry lilies Belamcanda Chinensis--which I struggled to get started here--have finally taken off and even multiplied.

Though the bright orange blooms of this plant have long since faded away, the seed pods they leave behind are just as striking, I think.  The papery pods open up in September, revealing the reason for their common name.  Though not a true native, Blackberry Lily is often included in a list of Illinois wildflowers.

This is also the time of year when things get a bit wild, and I don't just mean the disheveled look of my garden.  The "wild things" that looked like weeds all summer long in the butterfly garden have finally justified my allowing them to stay.  Goldenrod, not a fancy hybrid but the native kind, has been blooming since August .

Not a single one of these plants has been purposely planted by me.  For the most part, the goldenrod has been pretty well-behaved, staying within the confines of the butterfly garden.  But a few escapees have traveled elsewhere, and as long as they continue to be polite, I let them stay.  Actually, I think the bright yellow blooms contrast nicely with the dark sedum in the arbor bed, one of those happy accidents that I enjoy.

The goldenrod also goes well with the other rambunctious wild things in the butterfly garden, native asters. The mass of asters in this area all started from one, maybe two, purple plants purchased several years ago.

Somewhere down the line, the purple parents produced light pink progeny.

And now we also have a deeper pink offspring.

Purple or pink or a shade in between, I don't care; I've let Nature take her course in producing these.  The only interference I've done is to cut them back in May or June so that they don't flop so much come bloom time.  The bees don't care what color these are either.  In fact, the absence of bees in all the above photos is due to the lack of my photographic skill and no other reason, because both the goldenrod and asters have been covered with all kinds of critters all fall.

Evidence that I have let Mother Nature take her course--too much so, sometimes--can be seen in the very front of the butterfly garden.  I am guessing this is some type of aster, but I really don't know.  Whatever it is, it is something I would generally classify as a weed.  But it does look rather pretty right now in bloom, so I'll let it stay for the moment.  Heaven knows, I have enough other weeds to keep me busy for now.

One aster that I can positively identify is this one: 'October Skies' Aster oblongifolius, or more properly, Symphyotrichum oblongifolium. A cultivar of the native Aromatic aster, it was planted in the arbor bed to provide some much-needed late color.  By next week, it should be a mass of light blue blooms just in time for October.

Another reason I love fall, especially this year, is that we've had more butterflies than I've seen all the rest of the year.  The scarcity of Monarchs in particular is a concern for many of us, so I was happy to have this visitor stop by last weekend.  He enjoyed one of my favorite non-natives, the zinnias, and to my delight eventually settled on the 'Zowie Yellow Flame'--perfect color coordination, don't you think?

Wildflower Wednesday is officially celebrated the fourth Wednesday of every month, but is celebrated every day of the year by our hostess Gail of Clay and Limestone.  You're welcome to join in to honor those native plants that provide so much more than just a pretty face.

Wildflower Wednesday: No Ordinary Joe

Fall is just around the corner, but you would never know it this week--it's been hot, hot, hot!  Temperatures have soared into the 90's with a heat index of 104 forecast for today.  I hope this is summer's last hurrah; cooler temps and some rain--please!--would be so welcome.

The garden, though, is beginning to shift into fall mode regardless of the heat.  Obedient Plant has burst into bloom in the butterfly garden just in time for Wildflower Wednesday.  I've cautioned every time I've shown a photo of Obedient Plant, Phystostegia virginiana, that it is an aggressive spreader and may not be suitable for everyone's garden.  This spring I was determined not to let it take over this area, so I ruthlessly pulled out seedling after seedling, leaving only a few.  Unfortunately, no pink bloomers returned, only white ones--darn, I wish they'd come with color tags!

It looks like I'm also going to have a bumper crop of goldenrod this fall.  No fancy-schmansy hybrids here, just the ordinary goldenrod that grows wild anywhere it can.  Many would call it a weed, but I like its bright appearance, and the bees and other critters like it even without a pedigree.  Besides, it makes a nice contrast to all the asters that will be blooming in this area soon.

But what I really wanted to feature for this month's WW post is a plant that everyone seems to have been bragging about this year--Joe Pye Weed, once in the Eupatorium genus, now Eutrochium purpureum. But let's just forget about those fancy Latin names that taxonomists seem to want to change every few years--I prefer to call him by his common name "Joe."

Photo (and previous one) taken at Nicholas Conservatory and Gardens in Rockford, Illinois.

Joe Pye Weed is a native to much of the Eastern and Northern US; growing to 5-7 feet tall, it's a perfect accent at the back of a border.  Its fluffy pinkish-purple blooms won't shade out shorter plants in front.  It blooms in mid-summer to early fall.

My Joes are planted in full sun, but they also do well in part shade.  One thing Joe likes, though, is moist soil, which is probably the reason mine is doing so much better this year than in the past.  I don't give the butterfly garden much additional water, so the plentiful rain--until this month!--has made him very happy.

Until this year I had only one Joe-Pye Weed, and I was always rather disappointed in its appearance.  The blooms were a lighter pink than others I saw, and the stems were green, not the purple I associated with most Joes.  However, I have since learned that there are several types of this plant, and mine might be a Hollow-stemmed Joe Pye.

This spring I added another Joe Pye, purchased from the annual sale of our local Prairie Plant Society, as well as a 'Little Joe,' purchased from a local gardener and fellow native enthusiast.  I was happy to see that these Joes have the purple stems and darker blooms I was hoping for.  The new Joe is much shorter than my original, and 'Little Joe's' blooms were rather small this year, but I'm sure they will both grow with time.

Joe attracts a multitude of bees and butterflies.  Alas, our shortage of butterflies this years means I have no photos to prove the latter, but I can certainly prove the bee attraction.  This stand at the Nicholas Conservatory in Rockford, which I recently visited, was just swarming with bumblebees.

The origin of this plant's name is rather a mystery.  According to some sources, it was named after an early doctor or herbalist, possibly a Native American, possibly a colonist, who cured fevers with a concoction made from this plant. Whether that is fact or fiction, one thing is true about Joe Pye Weed--it is certainly not a weed!

Wildflower Wednesday is hosted the fourth Wednesday of every month by native enthusiast and protector of the bees, Gail at Clay and Limestone.  Why not join us?  You're sure to learn something new!

Wildflower Wednesday: Cycles of Change

There's a change in the air.  Evenings are cool, and early mornings are even cooler.  More Monarch butterflies are seen floating through the air, and the hummingbirds are in a feeding frenzy at the feeders and at their favorite plants in the garden, perhaps fueling up for their fall migration.

It is still August, however, usually a hot and muggy month here in my little corner of the Midwest, but after the hottest July on record, the cooler days and occasional rainshowers of the past two weeks have been a welcome relief.  I can feel a little bit of fall in the air.

Nowhere in the garden is this subtle change more evident than in the natives. Goldenrod and asters are taking the spotlight in the butterfly garden. 

I'm not sure of the name of this goldenrod, possibly Solidago canadensis, Canada goldenrod, or Solidago altissima, tall goldenrod.  But it is definitely a native, having never been planted by a gardener's hands, but growing freely around the farm wherever it wants.

The asters are also growing at will in the butterfly garden, but these were intentionally planted--or at least one of them was.  One small seedling, simply labeled "Native Aster," probably a New England aster, was planted several years ago in this space and has multiplied over and over.  A few bloomed unusually early this year, as you can see from the faded blooms, but most are just now beginning to open up.

Also blooming in the butterfly garden is this Agastache 'Blue Fortune.'  Although it's actually a cultivar, at least one of its parents is a native, and in many ways it acts like a native.  It's attractive to butterflies and has a slight licorice fragrance; it has also been as tough as any native, surviving the hot, dry summer in an area that rarely receives any extra watering.

Another native that should have been included in my recent post on volunteers is this pokeweed Phytolacca americana. A giant specimen found growing behind the barn several years ago was cut down, but not before the birds decided to spread its seeds, apparently.  Technically, this is really a weed, but it's been pretty well-behaved thus far, and the birds love these dark berries, so I've left the few plants alone. 

One of them even found its way into the lily bed this year, and I decided to let it grow.  As you can see, I definitely belong to the "clown-pants" style of gardening mentioned recently by Cindy of Texas and a term coined by our hostess Gail.  The pokeweed is flanked by a 'Vanilla Strawberry' hydrangea, a NOID phlox, and not pictured, irises and Rudbeckias--whatever happened to my design plan for this garden??

Still carrying on during this transition time from summer to fall are the Susans.  There are Rudbeckia hirta in the butterfly garden, but elsewhere are a few Susans whose origins are a mystery to me.

I think these may be the brown-eyed sisters, Rudbeckia triloba, since they have reddish stems and a dome-shaped disk in the center.

I do know the name of this Rudbeckia, however--'Prairie Sun.'  I first found these last fall amongst the usual mums and kale for fall plantings at one of the local garden centers.  I just love this variety and started some seedlings this spring.  Only two of them have bloomed, and this one certainly doesn't do justice to this green-eyed species, but it's in the roadside garden, another place that I am very negligent about watering.  We'll see if it self-seeds like the other hirtas; I certainly hope so.

While the previous natives are just beginning their season, for many natives this is time for making seeds. There are still a few late coneflower blooms, but most of them are looking pretty tattered.  I always debate with myself--should I cut at least some of them down to make the garden look a little neater?  My decision was made last week when I spied a pair of goldfinches (his mate--I presume--was below him out of camera range) feasting on the seedheads.  Needless to say, the fading coneflowers will be staying the rest of the year.

The birds may not be fond of these seeds, but I think Baptisia seeds are very striking, and I like the way they rattle in the breeze.  Even my oldest son, who was helping mow one day, noticed these and asked me about this plant.  When one of my non-gardening children notices a specific plant, then you know it is something special!

   Butterfly weed, Ascelpias tuberosa, is a host plant for Monarch larvae.  I haven't noticed any caterpillars on my plants this year, but it was hard to miss these creatures--Large Milkweed Bugs Oncopeltus fasciatus (oh, the wonders of Google!)  According to bugguide.net, they feast on the seeds of milkweed plants. During the feeding cycle, they ingest toxins which can sicken any predators who might try to devour them.  Those bright-colored bodies are a warning to any foolish predators that danger lies within! As far as I can tell, they don't do any damage to the plant, but merely enjoy the seeds--and there are plenty of those to go around.

There are still a few blooms on the butterfly weed, but most have turned to seed pods,  I love the bright orange of butterfly weed when it is in bloom, but I think I enjoy this wispy stage almost as much.  Soon the winds will carry these tiny treasures off, and the cycle will begin all over again.

Wildflower Wednesday is celebrated the fourth Wednesday of every month by our hostess Gail of Clay and Limestone.  Thanks, Gail, for hosting this--I learn something new about wildflowers and natives every month!