From The Lady Slipper Archives: New England Aster: 2010 Wildflower of the Year

The Lady Slipper newsletter of the Kentucky Native Plant Society has been published since the Society’s founding in 1986. With this article, we will begin to occasionally feature an article from a past issue. This one, about one of Kentucky’s loveliest natives, the New England Aster, first appeared in the summer of 2010, Vol. 25, No. 2. If you would like to see other past issues, visit the Lady Slipper Archives, where all issues from Vol. 1, No. 1, February 1986 to Vol. 34, No. 1, Winter/Spring 2019 (after which we moved to this blog format) can be found.

The author, Mary Carol Cooper, left a huge legacy to the native plant community when she passed in 2016. In almost every native plant gathering, her name is mentioned and a moment is given over to appreciate her knowledge, which she freely shared. Her passion led many of us to our love of natives; she was a mentor and friend to many of us.

New England Aster: 2010 Wildflower of the Year

By Mary Carol Cooper, Salato Center Native Plant Program Coordinator

The Wildflower of the Year is chosen based on the number of nominations it receives and this year more wildflower enthusiasts statewide voted than ever before! They chose New England Aster (Symphyotrichum novae-angliae) as the Salato Native Plant Program Wildflower of the Year for 2010. Aster comes from the Greek word for “star.” It describes the star-like form of the flower. Other familiar words using “aster” are astronomy, astrology and astronaut. According to Greek legend, the aster was created out of stardust when Virgo (the maiden Astraea, goddess of innocence and purity) looking down from heaven, wept. Asters were scared to all the gods and goddesses and beautiful wreaths made from the blossoms were placed on temple altars on very important festive occasions. Known in France as “eye of Christ” and in Germany as starworts, asters were often burned to keep away evil spirits. A hodgepodge of asters was thought to cure the bite of a mad dog. Shakers used the plant to clear their complexions and ancient Greeks used it as an antidote for snakebites and to drive away snakes. Virgil believed that boiling aster leaves in wine and placing them close to a hive of bees would improve the honey. Native Americans found many uses for asters, from treating skin rashes and earaches to stomach pains and intestinal fevers. Nerve medicines and cures for insanity were made from some asters and others were eaten as food. Some were smoked in pipes as a charm to attract game, especially deer. Today there are no medical uses for asters.

New England Aster, photo by Thomas Barnes

The genus Aster has recently undergone a name change due to close study using DNA testing and other techniques. There are about 150 flowering plants in North America traditionally placed in the aster genus. About 50 of them are considered common and widespread. Now there is only one species left with the name Aster. The other species have been given several tongue-twisting generic names. For the botanist, renaming of the asters brought accuracy and order. For the layperson, it removed some wonderfully colorful names and replaced them with unspellable and unpronounceable names! Aster novae-angliae was translated as “star of New England” and now as Symphyotrichum novae-angliae, it is literally “fused hairs of New England.” The word Symphyotrichum was created in 1832 to describe the hairs on the seeds of a European plant.

New England Aster is an erect perennial that grows to a height of 2’ to 6’ tall with a stout root crown or thick, short rhizome and clustered stems, usually with spreading hairs. The leaves are alternate, sessile, entire, lanceolate, 1” to 4” long with pointed lobes at the base that conspicuously clasp the stem. The ray flowers range from violet, rose, or magenta and are very showy. The disk flowers are yellow. This aster is one of our largest and showiest asters. There can be from 40 to 80 ray flowers on a head! These asters bloom from August to October and are a critical late-season nectar plant for butterflies, especially the Monarch, that stock up for their long migration to Mexico. New England Asters are found in mesic to wet open woods and fields across Kentucky. They prefer average to moist soil and full sun. Not only are the New England Asters critical for Monarch butterflies, it is the host plant for the Pearl Crescent and one of the host plants for the Saddleback Caterpillar Moth. Several game birds, including the wild turkey, a few songbirds, including the tree sparrow, and small mammals, such as the chipmunk and white-footed mouse, feed on the leaves and seeds. Work plantings of New England Aster into your fall landscape. Use them singly or in small groups in the rear of a sunny border. They look beautiful with our native sunflowers, goldenrods, mistflower and rose mallow. They are also perfect for rain gardens as they thrive on moist to dry soil. They are easy to naturalize in roadside ditches, road banks, and open grassy areas. A sunny site where soil remains moist throughout the season is also ideal. Asters have always been recognized as decorations. The flowers of most species last several days after being picked and put into vases, so what better than New England Asters in beautiful fall arrangements along with other fall bloomers.

Native spotlight: Baptisia australis

By Susan Harkins

As the song goes, June is busting out all over! No month is kinder to Kentucky wildflowers than June. The delicate and often elusive ephemerals have given way to an abundance of rambunctious textures, colors, shapes, heights, and fragrances. If you love wildflowers, you have to love June. Maybe that’s why so many brides choose June—it’s all about the bouquet! A spectacular bouquet will include Baptisia australis. Regionally, you might know this species as wild blue indigo or false blue indigo.

There’s something magical and exotic about this flower—its structure is so different from what we usually see in our gardens. I expect to see fairies flitting about as the sun sets and the moon begins its climb into the night sky. I tell my grandchildren if they want to see fairies, that’s the flower to watch.

Baptisia australis
Tim Waters

Botany and wildlife

Baptisia is in the legume (Fabaceae) or pea family, which explains the bloom’s departure from the more familiar trumpet and ray flowers. In addition, Baptisia has both male and female flowers. The blooms mature from the bottom up, and the older female flowers produce lots of nectar. Blooms toward the top of the stalk are pollen-rich males.

Donna Long

A bumble bee travels to the preferred lower flowers, seeking their nectar prize. The bee grasps the female’s pistils and thrusts itself inside the bloom. Eventually, the bee makes its way up the stalk, reaching the male flowers. This same propelling action brushes the pollen-covered anthers across the bee’s abdomen. After reaching the top, the bee flies to the female flowers at the bottom of the next stalk, depositing its pollen onto the female pistils.

The blooms also attract butterflies and hummingbirds, and Baptisia is the only known host of the Wild Indigo Duskywing (Erynnis baptisiae) butterfly.

Another native Baptisia is Baptisia alba. It’s similar in every way to australis but its blooms are white. There’s a yellow variety, Baptisia sphaerocarpa, but it isn’t native to Kentucky.

Culture

When Mary Carol Cooper gave me my first Baptisia, she advised me to find a sunny spot and leave it there. They grow a long taproot and don’t like to have their roots disturbed. Besides, you might not be able to move it even if you decide to. Established plants resemble asparagus when they break ground in early spring but underneath, the roots are woody. I’d describe the roots as a steel octopus. Established Baptisia is almost impossible to dig up without superpowers.

They prefer fun sun but will tolerate a bit of shade. They’re very forgiving in their water needs, so go for sun first, then water. However, they need well-drained soil. Steer clear of high pH soils or amend the soil regularly if necessary. Baptisia blooms from April to July. If they stay small and the leaves are a bit yellow, pH might be your problem. They take a few years to produce volumes of blooms, but they are worth the wait.

Propagation

Given Baptisia’s rooting disposition, division isn’t a great method of propagation. Cuttings will root but few will sprout the next spring.

Leonardo Dasilva

Seeds are the way to go. To collect, wait for the pod to turn brown or black. Blooms persist toward the top while pods ripen along the bottom. Fortunately, they hang on to the plant for weeks so they’re easy to find. Store dry seeds in the refrigerator. They’re easy to germinate and require only 10 days of cold moist stratification and then scarification in hot water. Plant about ½ inch deep.

Because Baptisia is a legume, it requires microorganisms that inhabit nodules on the plant’s root system. If you’re purchasing a healthy plant, don’t worry about it. You might never need to know this, but it can’t hurt to tuck away this bit of botanical trivia in your brain’s gardening section.

In your garden

In nature, you’ll find Baptisia along moist woodland edges and prairies. In your garden, give special care not to crowd them. They grow large and bushy so give them lots of room. The blooms are small, but the volume creates a showy vertical display. You might want to surround them with a bit of ground cover but don’t ask them to compete with another showy plant.

This bushy perennial grows from two to four feet from its woody base. While not a shrub, one plant can spread to three feet. One Baptisia is beautiful and three make a breathtaking display. However, in my opinion, a mass planting loses its visual impact because you see only the color and not the individual, and spectacular, plant.

Baptisia of any color provides both height and depth to any sunny garden spot. It’s spectacular as a focus spot or in a perennial border with other natives. After blooming, its blue-green foliage makes a nice backdrop for later bloomers and persists into cooler weather as do the dark seed pods.

When purchasing plants, look for older plants that are blooming; from seed, this plant takes three years (and patience) to produce flowers. Give Baptisia what it needs, and not only will it take center stage, but it will also be hearty—to the extent of being almost indestructible.

America’s favorite, Lobelia cardinalis

By Susan Harkins


Roger Tory Peterson described this midsummer bloomer as America’s favorite flower, and with good reason. Its blooms are an intense scarlet, which makes it attractive to both us and hummingbirds. You’ll hear Kentucky gardeners refer to Lobelia cardinalis as cardinal flower and red lobelia. Supposedly the name comes from the vestments worn by Roman Catholic cardinals; still others say it’s named for our state bird, the cardinal. The color is spectacular, regardless, as the blooms reflect one of the deepest, truest reds to be found in nature.

With all this natural beauty comes an unfortunate reality: They can be difficult to grow in our own gardens. L. cardinalis isn’t as forgiving as other natives that seem to thrive on our neglect. Providing what it needs is the key to success. But first, let’s take a short botany lesson.

Botany and wildlife

Not only are the red flowers attractive to hummingbirds, but the bloom’s shape plays a part in its success. Each bloom is a long tube, and at the bottom is a few drops of nectar. This shape is perfectly suited to the hummingbird’s long beak and tongue. When a hummingbird visits, it touches its head to the pistil and stamen, (reproductive organs), which stretch beyond the tube’s outer edges.

Culture and propagation

I’m combining these two topics because this is where L. cardinalis is a bit unforgiving. You can plant dozens and they might be gorgeous that first summer, but they might not return the next year—they might never return. Some gardeners love them so much that they treat them as an annual, replanting every year. This species needs good sunlight, but more importantly, moist soil, if you want them to return every year.

Lobelias aren’t true perennials; after setting seed, the stem and root system dies. New plants grow from the plant’s axil (the angle between the upper surface of a leaf and the stem it’s attached to). Although they grow quickly, they remain close to the ground and are obscured by the foliage above. Instead of seeds lying dormant in the soil all winter, you have evergreen seedlings that need tender loving care that first winter.

Keeping the new growth free of debris is vital, otherwise, the small rosettes don’t get the sunlight they require. Unfortunately, many of us add mulch in the fall and winter and unknowingly cover the new rosettes and they starve. Don’t add new mulch to L. cardinalis at this time of year. Instead, look for the new rosettes and remove mulch and debris that cover them. You don’t have to remove mulch from around them, just make sure the new leaves can get sunlight.

Debris is only the first hurdle to jump when trying to cultivate this native in your own gardens. This species self-sows only in moist soil. In Kentucky, that can spell a bit of trouble for gardeners because about the time this flower goes to seed, our climate often dries up. Keep the area moist if you want your flowers to reseed.

Never let them dry out for long. They are one of the few natives that will require additional water during hot spells and droughts. In nature, they grow along streams and ponds, and in swamps and wetlands. They prefer lots of sun but will tolerate and even thrive in shade as long as the soil is moist.

Propagation from both seeds and cuttings is easy. Collect seeds after the pods ripen and split, usually three to four weeks after blooming. It’s common for open blooms to persist toward the top of the stalk while pods near the bottom are ready to drop seeds. Take cuttings of two nodes early in the season so they’ll have time to produce a rosette.

Seeds require 60 days of cold moist stratification. Like many species with small seeds, they need light to germinate, so sow right on top of loose dirt. The seeds are tiny so it’s difficult to control them while sowing. If a new plant tries to bloom its first fall, clip the stalk to encourage more rosette growth.

To increase the chances that your L. cardinalis returns year after year, plant it in good sunlight, keep the area moist, and keep the bed free of debris once you spot new growth. They will thrive in some shade, as long as the soil is moist. It’s not difficult; knowing what to provide is the key. If you’d like a more reliable lobelia, consider Lobelia siphilitica. Its blue blooms are a true blue, the plant adapts well to most gardens, and hummingbirds like it.

Photo credits: Common license via Biodiversity Heritage Library