By Susan Harkins

As the world begins to green up and spring ephemerals in the woods begin to fade, golden Alexander, Zizia aurea, lights up my yard. This rugged and easy-to-care for flower isn’t the first native to bloom, but it is the first to truly fulfill the promise of spring. Its delicate yellow sprays chase away the last of my winter doldrums because I know winter truly is over.

In your garden

Golden Alexander resembles Queen Anne ’s lace (Daucus carota) a bit, with their three- to four-inch-wide flat umbels of yellow blooms. However, they’re shorter at about 20 inches. As fall approaches, the capsule-shaped green seeds turn purple along with the foliage.

In nature, this perennial grows in meadows, woodlands, moist prairies, and along riverbanks throughout eastern Canada to the southern United States. They like a moist sunny spot, but they’ll tolerate some shade and dry summer soil. Because of their love for moist soil, they work well in a rain garden. They adapt easily and require little care. They’re a versatile little plant.

This bright flower lights up things so much that you’ll want to plant it in areas where you can easily see it from your windows, porches, and decks. If you have paths, put some around bends so they catch your eye as you wind through the spring green-up. You’ll enjoy an individual planting as well as clumps, and they make a eye-catching border in front of later-blooming natives. Their foliage and seed heads remain attractive throughout most of the summer. In fact, they will easily reseed if you don’t cut them back; once you see the seed heads, you won’t want to.

Consider pairing golden Alexander with wild geraniums (Geranium spp), smooth beard tongue (Penstemon laevigatus) , Ohio spiderwort (Tradescantia ohiensis) or wild columbine (Aquilegia canadensis). The colors, growth structure, and general size complement one another well. When planting in full sun, consider pairing it with short native grasses. If happy and left undisturbed, they will colonize after a few years.

Wildlife

Golden Alexander is a larval food plant for the black swallowtail butterfly (Papilio polyxenes). It’s also an important source of nectar and pollen for insects emerging from pupation and the early spring Azure butterfly (Celastrina). If you’re lucky enough to have lady bugs (Cycloneda) hibernate in your yard, you might find their eggs and larvae on the leaves—the latter is an interesting find! Native bees and wasps will appreciate both the flowers nectar and pollen. Birds love the seeds, so they’re a good choice for attracting birds into your yard.

Botany and pollination

Golden Alexander is a member of the Apiaceae, or carrot, family. If you let carrots go to seed in your vegetable garden, you might notice the family resemblance. Each flower has 5 sepals, 5 petals and 5 stamens. Flower clusters form a flat flower-head; the middle flower of each umbel is stalkless. Their sharply serrated compound leaves have three leaflets, in groups of three.

Pollination is best served by early spring pollinators with short mouthparts, such as bees, wasps, flies, and beetles. In addition, golden Alexander is self-pollinating.

Propagation

Seed capsules ripen over the season in the flat umbels. For most of the year they’re green, but slowly turn purple in the fall. Once they turn brown, they are ready to collect. They fall quickly once they’re ripe; they’ve usually fallen or been eaten by birds before I get to them. They are inexpensive to purchase if you fail to collect seeds, but you can always use the paper bag method to catch them. When sowing outside, do so in November after the first hard frost.

Seeds require 90 days cold moist stratification at 40 degrees Fahrenheit. That can be a problem in Kentucky; the only month you can truly depend on is January. For that reason, I recommend the refrigerator stratification method. Seeds germinate best in cool soil, so put the stratified seeds outside early; they’ll be fine. Transplant seedings to pots in midsummer and then transfer to the yard in the fall. First year plants aren’t likely to produce blooms. As with most any plant, keep well watered after transplanting.

This native propagates from seed outside or inside easily enough although the germination rate may be low—plant a lot of seeds. Division works well, but the plants droop and look weary for a bit. Division can be successful if you have an established colony. Don’t divide plants for the first few years.

This carefree plant is flexible enough to grow in most yards. Their delightful delicate flowers shout “Spring!” Plant them all over your yard; you won’t regret it.

By Susan Harkins

Thank you to Connie May, Jonathan Kubesch, and Nick Koenig for sharing their technical expertise on milkweed.

The monarch butterfly, Danaus plexippus is now a candidate species for the Endangered Species Act. Habitat loss and pesticide use along their migratory routes are responsible for the decline of the monarch, but you can help by providing habitat in your own yard. You’ll need two things: nectar for the adults and milkweed (Asclepias) foliage for their caterpillars. By planting both milkweed and other native wildflowers, my yard turns into a five-star resort for not only monarchs, but other butterflies and moths, beneficial insects, and birds.

Plant a patch of native wildflowers to attract adult butterflies and milkweed for their offspring. The monarch caterpillars eat only Asclepias. Kentucky Asclepias species that easily make the move to home gardens are:

By planting both milkweed and other native wildflowers, my yard turns into a five-star resort for not only monarchs, but other butterflies and moths, beneficial insects, and birds.Despite its common name, swamp milkweed (Asclepias incarnata) will grow in most yards, though it will only reproduce reliably in wet spots. Be prepared to reseed or replant every few years to keep it going. Its deep-rose blooms are more spray-like than clusters and makes a stunning border for a larger area. It won’t spread to other areas, but it will fill in an area nicely.

Butterfly weed (Asclepias tuberoses) has the most spectacular color—bright orange. It’s a bit bushy, grows 2 to 3 feet, and likes a sunny spot. It looks lovely planted with rue. Butterfly weed is the most dependable for returning in the same spot each year, but it doesn’t spread quickly. The leaves are thin, and I find few eggs or caterpillars on them, but the adult butterflies and other beneficial insects feed on the blooms. Butterfly weed blooms persist longer into the late summer than other milkweeds. Plant a few for a bright pop of color or create a spectacular border. Once they’re established, they’re very dependable.

Plant whorled milkweed (Asclepias verticillata) for fragrant blooms and interesting green foliage. It’s easy to establish from seedlings and like butterfly weed, whorled milkweed grows 2 to 3.

Of the five species reviewed, green milkweed (Asclepias. viridis) has proven the hardest for me to establish in a garden setting. It grows wild in every direction at my friend’s farm, so I keep trying. I encourage you to do so too because it’s so worth it! Its showy blooms are similar to common, but green, and the plants are shorter.

This article is about species that will work well in your home gardens. I don’t recommend that you plant common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca) in your yard. I include it to be comprehensive, but it’s beautiful in a big field far enough away that it doesn’t breech your landscaped yard.

In bloom, common milkweed is gorgeous and fragrant. Plant enough to cut some of those showy dusty-rose clustering blooms to bring inside because the scent is seductive. It prefers a sunny, well-drained spot and can reach seven feet. It spreads aggressively and dislikes intensive management. To be happy, plant it and plan to leave it be, keeping in mind that the caterpillars will completely defoliate it—another reason not to put it in your yard.

There are other species native to Kentucky, but these listed have proven most successful for me. I encourage you to explore the other species and experiment! The more you know about milkweed, the more successful your efforts will be. Common, swamp, and butterfly are readily found in nurseries in the spring. Seeds for all can be purchased online and at nurseries.

By Susan Harkins

Kentucky doesn’t have many winter-hardy wildflowers, so gardeners plant non-natives—daffodil, crocus, and hellebore mostly—to brighten up their early spring yards. By the end of February, I’m crabby and needing a respite and those early blooms sooth my soul and remind me that within a few weeks the world will be warm and full of color again. Daffodils bridge the gap between my “I’m going to die…” stage and “Ah! Spring!” You don’t have to rely on non-natives though, thanks to Hepatica.

Hepatica isn’t Kentucky’s earliest native bloomer. That distinction probably goes to Symplocarpus foetidus, commonly known as skunk cabbage or polecat weed. Unless you have a shady bog to fill, you probably can’t rely on skunk cabbage to scout out spring. The next earliest native bloomer is Hepatica. By mid-April, they’re everywhere, but I’ve spied them earlier.

If they bloomed any later, these small delicate flowers would be totally overwhelmed by the riotous outbreak of warmer spring colors. Somehow, they arrive at just the right time.

Kentucky claims two varieties: Hepatica americana and Hepatic acutiloba. You might once have known this native as Hepatica nobilis, but that is the European species and it no longer applies to our Kentucky species.

Botany

Tiny hairs protect the tender buds that often push through late snow. If you examine them closely, they look fuzzy, as if they’re wearing fur caps for protection. Hairs also protect the stems and leaves, and it’s possible the hairs help retain heat. They are “evergreen,” living a full year.

Blooms appear in a variety of colors: white, pink, lavender, purple, and blue. Their “petals” are actually sepals held in place by three bracts. The number of sepals varies, and they last for weeks. Heart-shaped leaves grow at the stem’s base. Hepatica means liver in Latin, and the name is derived from its liver-shaped winter leaves. That also explains its common names, liverwort and liverleaf.

Once the sepals die, a set of new leaves emerge to continue soaking in the sun’s ray, storing up energy for next spring’s early blooms. As winter moves in, the leaves darken until they seem to disappear, but they’re ready to start photosensitizing with spring’s first hint of sun. That “evergreen” leaf is the reason Hepatica can bloom so early in the spring.

You might wonder how this flower pollinates considering how few insects are out and about in early spring. Cross-pollination by an insect, such as solitary bees, is preferred, but this plant is autogamous–it can fertilize itself!

In your garden

Besides keeping you sane until spring truly erupts, this little beauty makes a lovely garden plant. Once established, they spread quickly and form little clumps of flowers that are a sweet complement to crocus and other non-native spring bloomers.

Plant Hepatica in a moist rich soil that receives only a few hours of sun (not full shade). Because they can so easily be obscured, plant them in mass or among ornamental rocks. They need good air flow to prevent leaf spotting.

Fortunately for gardeners, Heptica grows easily from seed. The small seeds are ready to collect in late spring; if the seeds aren’t easy to remove, they’re not ripe. It’s easier to cut the entire star-shaped seed cluster into a bag than to collect only the seeds because of their small size. The seeds are still green when ripe and need a period of warm stratification, followed by cold stratification before they will geminate. For that reason, I recommend that you sow them immediately.

Seeds germinate and produce seed leaves the next spring. They’ll produce flowers their second year, so plan ahead. If you’re germinating in flats, prepare to keep them for two years before transplanting.

Whether you’re a native purist or simply looking for a bridge into spring, consider Hepatica. It’s so delicate that it hardly seems possible that it has survived the harsh winter, but year after year, it not only returns, it celebrates, and we celebrate in kind.

By Susan Harkins

A few summers back, I stopped outside a local nursery to admire a huge pot of Sporobolis heterolepis, commonly known as prairie dropseed. I gently caressed the long thin green leaves and tiny brown seeds. Not only was the tactile sensation comforting, the released fragrance, similar to cilantro, was mesmerizing. It grows in my yard, but I thought to myself then that the next year I would have a pot of dropseed on my porch. Someone knew what they were doing when they positioned that pot of dropseed at the entrance to the store.

This native grass is aptly described as an elegant fountain. Its fine-textured arching leaves grow up and curve down toward the earth. Loose branching clusters of airy florets produce tiny fragrant brown seeds. This time of year, when our fields and yards are a blaze of yellow and purple, dropseed offers lovely spots of gold, orange, and pink.

Botany

Sporobolis heterolepis is a warm-season deciduous bunchgrass, which simply means it grows in clumps. The 3 to 8 inch panicle comprises multiple branches that terminate in small spikelets. A single floret has three reddish anthers and a short feathery stigma when in bloom. Once pollinated (by wind), the floret produces a mostly round small seed in a hard hull. It’s a dense turf with alternate basal leaves.

Culture

This drought-tolerant native prairie grass is often used to fight erosion and control water runoff because of its deep fibrous root system. As you might expect, it grows well in dry soil and full sun. Because it tolerates heavy clay, it’s a good species for Kentucky gardens. It also grows in glades and open areas left by human development.

I’ve found that this perennial likes a bit of room. If too crowded, they don’t reach their normal 2 to 3 feet in height and spread.

Propagation

Seeds are best collected in October before they drop from their hulls. They germinate in cool weather so sow in the late fall or early spring; they require stratification if sown in the spring. (An easy stratification method is to sow in dry soil for at least ten weeks.) Although Sporobolis heterolepis grows easily from seed, it’s not a prolific self-seeder, so don’t expect it to fill in as ground cover. Division is possible, but difficult because of its dense root system. Many experts recommend divisions over seeds, but I’d rather seed heavily or buy mature plants than take a chain saw to the roots because that’s the only way I’d be successful!

In your garden

Due to its late blooming florets, this species is a fall beauty, and its arching leaves lend elegance almost year round. Snow doesn’t flatten the leaves and the graceful leaves and seeds poking through a new snow are lovely.

Plant in mass or as a single focus point. However, I don’t recommend them as a formal border because this species is diverse in form from plant to plant. They’re not a cookie-cutter plant. Plant 18 to 24 inches apart and don’t crowd them. It can hold its own against Andropogon gerardii, big bluestem, and Sorghastrum nutans, Indian grass, but don’t allow nearby taller plants to block the sun; placement is important when combining Sporobolis heterolepis with taller prairie grasses.

Patience is a virtue, so they say, and you’ll need it with this species when growing from seed or plugs. It takes nearly five years to fully develop from seed, so I recommend buying large plants if you want a quick display from this plant. Once established, this grass requires little care, but keep it well watered the first year. Dethatch it once a year and remove weeds; that’s it!

If you garden for wildlife, the seeds persist into winter providing food for birds. Its clumping nature provides habitat and protection for birds and small mammals and nesting material and shelter for native bees.

Although it’s slow to establish, Sporobolis heterolepis is one of the showiest bunch grasses. It fits into almost any landscaping theme, from formal to rustic. It’s a great plant for restoration projects and is trouble free once established. But for me, the fragrance is its most endearing quality—put a pot on your porch and enjoy.