Joe-Pye weed grows along the seasonal brook at the edge of our property

The dusky mauve color complements the goldenrods also in bloom at this time

Three eupatoriums are fairly similar. I know my Joe-Pye weed is Eupatorium fistulosum because I cut one open and saw that it has hollow stems. The other two, E. purpureum and E. maculatum, both have solid pith, but E. maculatum has spots on the stems. According to William Cullina in Wildflowers: A Guide to Growing and Propagating Native Flowers of North America, “the names are used interchangeably in the trade, and there is some confusion about the identity of several selected cultivars. …[But] all make excellent garden plants.” However, the USDA says my Joe-Pye weed is actually Eupatoriadelphus fistulosus.

As you would expect from a native plant, the blossoms attract a variety of wildlife.

A bumblebee and a moth share the wealth on Joe-Pye blossom. Do you know the name of the butterfly?

Posted for Wildflower Wednesday, created by Gail of Clay and Limestone, to share wildflowers/native plants no matter where you garden in the blogasphere. It doesn’t matter if we sometimes show the same plants. How they grow and thrive in your garden is what matters most. It’s always the fourth Wednesday of the month!

The American Elderberry (Sambucus canadensis) is a native shrub that grows in the ditches and hedgerows here. As you can see it has attractive white flowers.

American elderberry, Sambucus canadensis

Elder flower

We don’t eat the flowers. We just enjoy looking at them, because we are waiting for the berries.

Elderberries. Photo by me'nthedogs

Not to worry about the lack of sweetness, because we harvest these berries for pie:

Elderberry-Apple Pie

I discovered this in the 1974 edition of Farm Journal’s Country Cookbook, after my husband brought some fresh picked elderberries into the kitchen, and informed me they were used to make pie.

2 crusts pie pastry
2 cups elderberries from American elderberry (Sambucus canadensis)
1 1/2 cups tart apples — chopped and peeled
1 cup sugar
1/8 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons quick cooking tapioca
2 tablespoons butter

Wash and stem elderberries. Combine elderberries, apples, sugar, salt, and tapioca, crushing berries with back of the spoon. Spoon mixture into pastry-lined 9″ pie pan. Dot with butter and top with lattice crust. Bake at 400 degrees for 35 to 40 minutes, or until apples are tender and crust is golden.

Of course, the birds like the berries, too, so you have to beat them to the berries.

I’d be interested in hearing how you use the flowers or berries in cooking.

Update: Found a list of wildlife that appreciate the elderberry. Thanks to Gail for the term “faunal associations” which enabled me to find that page.

Photo of ripe elderberries by me’nthedogs. Posted for Wildflower Wednesday, created by Gail of Clay and Limestone, to share wildflowers/native plants no matter where you garden in the blogasphere. It doesn’t matter if we sometimes show the same plants. How they grow and thrive in your garden is what matters most. It’s always the fourth Wednesday of the month!

Lily Lake at Chenango Valley State Park

The cell phone camera is pretty good for a cell phone camera, but when it comes to small things that move in the slightest breeze, well, it’s a tough job for a cell phone camera (though I won’t rule out operator error). There is one plant I couldn’t identify and of course that is the one where the blossom came out blurry. If you can recognize this plant by its leaves, its overall habit, or its blurry flowers, please tell me what it is!

Overall habit of the mystery plant

These are the leaves. The flower stalk is visible emerging from the middle of the photo.

The flowers are pink. The one all the way on the right is sharpest.

Do You Know the Name of This Plant?

I have been through all my wild flower reference books, but it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. Whatever it is, I don’t think it’s common, because I’ve leafed through my reference books many times and it doesn’t look familiar. I even tried calling the park office, but they’ve been busy every time. So I appeal to you, my readers, for help in identifying this plant.

Helen of Toronto Gardens correctly identified it as Desmodium glutinosum. Thank you, Helen! Now I can sleep at night.

I hate the plants that can survive a cold winter but can’t take a hard spring frost. It is so aggravating! The problem is they emerge too early from dormancy for their own good. I’m talking about:

• 

  April 29, 2006. Endless Summer hydrangea literally nipped in the bud.

  ‘Endless Summer’ hydrangea. It will get through a USDA Zone 4 winter but break into leaf long before the last spring frost. Which would be fine if those leaves could take a frost. But they can’t. I keep this shrub around for sentimental reasons. It reminds me of my grandma’s blue hydrangea–which was dead hardy for her on Long Island. I have learned if I bury it in leaves in the fall and leave them on until June, it will fine.
• 

  One night at 27F does it in.

  Arisaema amurense. There are very few arisaemas hardy to USDA Zone 4. This arisaema, native to the Amur River valley, is supposed to be one of them, though other sites say Zone 5. Unfortunately it emerges from its winter dormancy in May, when we still have frost. Frost makes it lay down and die a premature death. It’s not pretty and it makes me want to cry. And that’s not pretty, either.
• 

  Native-born but can't deal with spring frost

  Arisaema triphyllum. I know it’s a native, you know it’s a native, but just try telling that to Jack. Our native Jack-in-the-pulpit can’t take the frost any better than his Asian cousin. How the heck did it survive all these years? Perhaps provenance makes a difference. This guy came from a relative living in the Hudson Valley near Albany. I really didn’t think our climates were that different, but maybe little things mean a lot.

Can’t Live With ‘Em or Without ‘Em

By now you have probably guessed that I don’t really hate these plants or I would have let them go to their eternal composted rest before now. Really I love them; I just hate their little sissy ways and how they make me work to keep them alive. I really thought it was going to get colder than 27F (-3C) last night or I would have made the effort to cover them. It might–might–have gotten them through. Another two degrees colder and nothing would have saved them, so I didn’t bother.

Why bother, indeed? I’m either hard-headed or soft-hearted. I keep telling myself each year that this year’s weather was an anomaly, that if I just help these plants pull through and build up strength, eventually they’ll be able to deal with a weird spring or two without my help. Yeah, right.

How about you? Are there plants in your garden that make you pull your hair out, but you just can’t part with?

Remember this?

Cypripedium acaule, commonly known as Pink Lady-slipper

Seed pods of pink lady-slipper, Cypripedium acaule

Lady Slipper Seed Germination

As related by William Cullina in The New England Wild Flower Society Guide to Growing and Propagating Wildflowers (affiliate link):

• “The typical lady-slipper seedpod contains between 10,000 and 20,00 seeds!”
• The reason they have so many seeds is because the seeds lack endosperm
• Without endosperm, the seeds are very light and are spread by the wind
• “Without endosperm, orchid seeds cannot germinate unless they become infected by certain soil fungi [Rhizoctonia mycorrhizae], which the seedlings partially digest to obtain the sugars and nutrients necessary for growth.”
• “Once a seedling has chlorophyll-containing leaves and a few roots, it . . . becomes less and less dependent on the fungus for survival.”
• “At least some species of Rhizoctonia are pathogenic or disease-causing when they infect nonorchidaceous species, such as members of the Mustard family.”

Cullina states

In my experience, adequate sunlight; moisture; and a well-aerated, good organic soil with adequate fertility is all adult lady-slippers need to grow well. In fact, even small seedlings that we have received in sterile bags (growing without mycorrhizae) grow on very well in a sterile, hydroponic mix. It seems clear that once the seedlings have passed out of the critical germination stage, they can grow well in cultivated conditions without mycorrhizae.

However, Cullina says that the pink lady-slipper I have does “not adapt well to cultivation.” I plan to leave them right where they are, and I’m not messing with the seed pods. But I learned a few things tonight and thought I’d share them with you.

It is a family tradition to walk up the hill and into the woods this time of year to seek out the witch hazel (Hamamelis virginiana) blossoms. This is a native shrub or small tree that prefers moist, acidic soil–which we have in abundance.

In some years, the witch hazel doesn't drop its leaves, making it more difficult to see the flowers.

This year we found many trees with the leaves already gone.

The flower-filled branches are enchanting

The first autumn we lived here, my husband took me up in these woods. He was obviously looking for something, but I couldn’t figure out what. Finally, he stopped and said, “Look up.” There before us was a rather large witch hazel completely spangled with the feathery blossoms. I was enchanted. It looked like stars had fallen and gotten caught in the branches.

It’s been a long time in coming, but I think we finally have a witch hazel year equal to that memorable, almost mythic one. Honey, are you up for a walk?

If you know invasive plants could you reply to this comment? A reader has commented on an older post about an invasive plant she can’t identify. I don’t recognize it from her description, but maybe you do.

I mentioned that Allegheny vine (Adlumia fungosa) was blooming for me in July’s Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day post, and Leslie asked me what that was. Thank you, Leslie. I was dying for someone to ask.

A Biennial, Native Vine

I had never even heard of a biennial vine until Allegheny vine showed up in my garden. What does biennial mean? It means it takes two years to get to the blooming stage, and then it dies.

The first year it forms a mound of ferny foliage -- September 16, 2008

However, in its second year, the “mound” or rosette starts to climb.

In June 2009 the vine has started to climb the nearby mockorange shrub.

By July 8, 2009, the vine has really hit its stride and is blooming like mad.

You can see the resemblance to bleeding heart.

A Native Plant with Mysterious Origins

You may have noticed I said this plant showed up in my garden. I never planted it, and its first appearance in my nascent flower bed started quite the detective hunt, back in the pre-internet days. It is native throughout northeastern North America, but I have never seen it growing in any of the wild areas hereabouts. So where did it come from? It is sad to think it may once have grown wild here, and has now been extirpated from the local ecosystem. It is intriguing to think that one of the former owners of our house traded seed by mail or swapped plants with another gardener, and introduced this lovely, emphemeral plant to the garden I now tend.

How to Grow Adlumia fungosa

I’ll be honest with you. I don’t know how to grow Allegheny vine, which is also called climbing fumitory and–my favorite–mountain fringe. I have saved seeds and tried to sow them, without a single one germinating. It is one of those plants that I can’t grow, but if I wait patiently, it shows up on its own. It doesn’t show up every year, mind you, and rarely shows up twice in the same spot, though it always chooses a fairly moist spot. This particular plant, blooming in 2009, is probably the most spectacular vine I’ve been privileged to watch grow. If you’ve managed to grow it from seed, I’d appreciate any tips you could pass along.

Spring has finally arrived at Purdville. Unfortunately, I seem to have lost some of my photo gallery features when I switched to this new design. You can click on each thumbnail for a larger image, but then you have to use your browser’s Back button to get back to the thumbnails.

Also blooming:

• Creeping phlox
• Narcissus poeticus, ‘Irish Laddie’, and ‘Curly Lace’
• Lilacs: light purple, single white, double white
• Pulmonaria (lungwort)
• white violets
• Flowering almond
• And, of course, the mystery plant of the previous post

Inspired by the words of Elizabeth Lawrence, “We can have flowers nearly every month of the year,” Carol of May Dreams Gardens started Garden Bloggers Bloom Day. On the 15th of every month, garden bloggers from all over the world publish what is currently blooming in their gardens, and leave a link in Mr. Linky and the comments of May Dreams Gardens.

Mystery Flower Up in the Woods

We have lived here for almost twenty years now, and yet almost every year I discover a new wildflower growing up there. I don’t know how much this is due to the maturing of the the woodlands, and how much is due to my making more of an effort to get up there during May, when all the spring ephemerals are blooming–and all the weeds are growing lustily in the cultivated gardens down by the house.

About a week ago I came across this plant, which I had never seen before:

May 9th. Do you know what this flower is?

May 12th. Do you know what it is now?

Cypripedium acaule, commonly known as Pink Ladyslipper

I’m just thrilled.