So many native perennials sprouting their leaves as if little alarm clocks have gone off telling the plants to wake up. One of them, Purple-flowering Raspberry (Rubus odoratus), sending out its maple-like, very crinkled, serrated leaves. It is native to the eastern United States
By late May bristly buds appear. The stems and branches of the plant are also hairy/bristly but have no thorns.
Blooms arrive by mid-June in the woods in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Often singly, sometimes two or three blossoms together. The drupes or berries are edible but it is debatable whether they have a good flavor. I chose to leave the drupes for the birds and animals that enjoy them.
It’s a great kick to find these flowers in the woods. A lovely bright color for a native plant.
Brand new! This Pipevine Swallowtail (Battus philenor) has just emerged from its chrysalis.
A couple years ago I decided that if I wanted to see Pipevine Swallowtails, I should get a plant that would engage them. Their host plants are in the genus Aristolochia. One of them, Woolly Dutchman’s Pipe (Aristolochia tomentosa) filled the bill since it’s native to the eastern US and southeastern Canada. Perfect. I put up a trellis, planted it and let it grow.
And nature did its magic. Pipevine Swallowtails came and deposited eggs on the leaves. Those eggs became caterpillars. Many caterpillars.
I was beside myself with glee.
The little caterpillars ate the leaves of the vine, getting larger and larger until it was time for each of them to create a chrysalis. Much to my surprise one of the plump black and orange dotted creatures decided to present me with a gift. The gift of perfect location. It built its chrysalis right next to my front door at the perfect height for me to watch its progress. The perfect height for my camera to capture happenings.
The chrysalis was attached to the cedar siding with two little silken threads, one at the back and the other near the front. And it hung there day after day. Glowing with its incredible coloring. Glowing yellow creating the illusion of warm candlelight coming from within.
As time passed the chrysalis turned more and more paper bag brown. But still it seemed to glow from within with that warm candlelight yellow.
Then at about day 17, the chrysalis looked as if there was something inside, not just candlelight but something resembling a butterfly eager to get out. I thought about manning a station. Sitting, watching constantly to see the miraculous moment when the butterfly emerged. But I didn’t.
My next observation just a short time later, the chrysalis was just an empty shell. The incredible NEW butterfly was hanging onto the siding, pumping its butterfly “blood” into its wings. Getting ready to fly away to begin its extremely short life of just 6 to 14 days.
What an extraordinary thing to witness. I’m so very glad I planted that Wooly Dutchman’s Pipe.
Yarrow (Achillea millefolium). I love native plants and when they show up as a volunteer in my gardens they are more than welcome! That’s the case with Yarrow, wandering aimlessly and finally settling here in a place that brings delight.
A native mint that has intrigued me for years living trailside here on the mountain. I’ve found it available at a native plant nursery and now I have some in my gardens. Silverleaf Mountain Mint (Pycnanthemum incanum). Native to eastern North America.
The nectar of this Mountain Mint is popular with bees and butterflies. The flowers are white, sometimes tinged with lavender, sometimes dotted with purple speckles. I like those speckles!
The leaves of Silverleaf Mountain Mint are indeed silvery. Very dense but short, incredibly soft white hairs cover the leaves and the stems giving them that beautiful color. Stems that, like other mints, are square.
Silverleaf Mountain Mint spreads easily into dense clumps. Some say it is an aggressive grower. I’m looking forward to that. Bring it on!
Yarrow (Achillea millefolium). The temperate areas of the Northern Hemisphere in Asia and Europe and North America claim Yarrow as a native herbaceous perennial flowering plant.
It’s blooming right now in this area, looking a bit like Queen Anne’s Lace because of the large clusters of flowers atop the plant’s stems. But those clusters of flowers on Yarrow are quite an irregular grouping while the clusters of flowers on Queen Anne’s Lace is an impressive near perfect circle of blooms.
Sometimes in the autumn a Yarrow leaf will turn beautiful reds and yellows but all season long it has a lovely feather-like appearance. The plant is called the Spanish word for little feather, Plumajillo, in New Mexico and southern Colorado because of the feathery look of leaves.
The blossoms of the Yarrow are popular with butterflies, wasps, flies, and bees.
I often see Crab Spiders on Yarrow too, waiting and watching for their next meal to come along.
I don’t usually notice the scent of flowers that only have a subtle fragrance. It takes a knockout aroma like Japanese Honeysuckle (Mmmmm!) for me to notice but I understand Yarrow has a nice, sweet aroma, much like Chrysanthemums. I don’t usually notice their fragrance either!
I know, I know. I understand. It grows where I don’t want it. The NERVE. It makes me itch just to look at it and heaven forbid if its oil gets on someone else’s sleeve and that sleeve brushes against me. But Poison Ivy is a native, and native birds love the berries. Afternoon after afternoon I watch as Pileated Woodpeckers and Yellow-shafted Flickers feast on the white berries of Poison Ivy. Not such a wicked plant if you allow it to grow in the woods in its own territory. Lesson learned by yours truly. Leave it be if it is not in your gardens. The birds love it.
A clump of grass in early spring becomes green streaks, highlighted with six pointed dots of cheery blue. Common Blue-eyed Grass (Sisyrinchium angustifolium) is native to the eastern two thirds of the United States and Canada.
Though “grass” is in the common name, it is not a grass at all but is in the iris family of plants. This Blue-eyed Grass is an herbaceous perennial that is a spot of joy in spring. And quite an amazing thing if you’re watching the development of what seems to be that clump of grass wondering what it is.
If you look at those blades with knowing eyes, you can see the look of iris stems containing buds.
It is surprising for me to learn that the each flower actually consists of only three petals along with three nearly twin sepals, creating the look of six petals. The flowers are doll house sized, about one half inch across with each petal or sepal having a pointed tip and a slight indentation on either side of the tip.
The seed capsule, seen just below a flower in the above image, will split into three sections at maturity. The small black seeds to be a carried just a short distance with the wind.
As I was collecting these photographs, I took a trip to Florida and came upon a different species of Blue-eyed Grass. White Blue-Eyed Grass (Sisyrinchium albidum). Delighted to make this find.
Back in Virginia I’m enjoying my natives that bring me such pleasure.
The larval host of Zebra Swallowtail (Protographium marcellus) is any of the eight species of the genus PawPaw (Asimina). I’m in the process of replacing three PawPaw trees that I recently lost. An important quest for me.
Exquisite Zebra Swallowtails depend entirely on PawPaw trees for their very existence. No PawPaw trees, no Zebra Swallowtails.
They’re native to eastern United States and southeast Canada, the state butterfly of Tennessee.
As adults these butterflies feed on the nectar of flowers such as blueberry and blackberry blossoms, lilac, milkweed, redbud, verbena, and dogbane. They also get minerals from moist sand and soil. But they need those PawPaw trees to get started. I’ve got them ordered. Soon to be put in the ground here at the cabin, and OH! Those blooms. I love ’em!
I had no idea such a thing existed. A raspberry bush with such pretty flowers. Raspberry blossoms of a bright magenta rather than white. Being up on Skyline Drive at just the right time, during bloom time revealed this unusual plant to me. Purple-flowered Raspberry (Rubus odoratus).
Since it was growing in Shenandoah National Park, I knew it was native to this area. Sure enough it is a native deciduous perennial of Eastern North America. That was a signal to me. Get that plant for at least one of your gardens!
Now I have small bushes, still growing, getting bigger. They could possibly grow to be six feet tall and twelve feet across.
Autumn turns the leaves that resemble maple leaves into a golden hue. And surely you are wondering about the raspberries themselves. That is the downside of this bush. At least for humans. Everywhere I find the raspberries described as “insipid” or “somewhat dry, crumbly and unappetizing” but that is offset by the fact that the bushes are helpful to many birds, both game birds and songbirds. It’s also beneficial to butterflies and bees, and mammals both large and small. A good one to have.
The Lily of the Valley that we all know, the one that used to grow in our Moms’ gardens is a native of Asia and Europe, European Lily of the Valley (Convallaria majalis). But there is a native too, though this designation of “native” and it being a different species is not agreed upon by the authorities. I’m going with native and a different species. American Lily of the Valley (Convallaria majuscula). This species is native to Georgia, up north to Pennsylvania and west to Kentucky.
American Lily of the Valley
The difference between these two species is quite subtle. In American Lily of the Valley, the plant is shy, only creating very small clumps if any. The European species is quite gregarious, creating large colonies in an aggressive manner. The leaves of the American Lily of the Valley are larger, than the European species. The racemes (a raceme is a flower cluster with the separate flowers attached by short equal stalks at equal distances along a central stem) of the American Lily of the Valley is shorter than the European species. Those racemes of the American species arch under the leaves, while the leaves of the European species stretch tall, as if standing on their tippy toes to see over the tops of the leaves.
I have both of these species and love having them. Oh MY! Such a delicious scent! I prefer the tame manner of the American species and I must say I really prefer native plants anyway for the sake of the environment. These two species bloom at different times though, which extends the time that I can enjoy their blooms and their wonderful aromas. My European species is in full bloom now and my native species is just now beginning to emerge from the soil. Many more weeks of lily of the valley beauty.
