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.