Reflections on Wildflowers 5

In my previous blog, I mentioned the Morning Glory that mysteriously appeared in the flower border of my vegetable garden. I must have considered its early leaves to have been those of a flower that I planted, but I did not purchase Morning Glory seeds! The deep blue blossoms were all the more appreciated because they came as a surprise! Often (although not always), we can be especially grateful for such unintended outcomes.

Blue Morning-Glory, Photograph by Cassius H. Watson

In Norman Taylor’s Wild Flower Gardning (D. Van Nostrand, 1955)

The Morning Glory gives me the opportunity to mention that a few other wildflowers have become permanent additions to my flower beds. Spiderwort, for one! I have grown Spiderwort and have transplanted it when I have moved from one house to another, but Spiderwort is not a plant that I sought from a nursery; rather, it simply announced itself within one of my flower gardens long ago.

One of my houses came with a Wild Rose that I loved; I often wish I had tried to move it when I moved. The flat pink petals always inspired joy, and the bush was hardy. In various years, I have grown Wild Columbine, as well as Hibiscus that must have been close to its Mallow ancestor. Such plants challenge the arbitrary distinction between a “flower” and a “wildflower,” with the former term designating a hybrid chosen for a garden and the latter designating plants out of place, or not selected by the gardener. Some might even go so far as to consider wildflowers to be “weeds.”

Common Spiderwort, Photograph by Russell Tinling Pansie

In Norman Taylor’s Wild Flower Gardening (D. Van Nostrand, 1955)

Toward the last week of July this year, I found Flower-of-an-Hour in my vegetable garden and among the flagstones near my solarium. Hibiscus trionum, or Bladder Weed, or Venice Mallow, or many other names, is perhaps best named Flower-of-an-Hour because the delicate creamy petals with a dark purple center open only briefly.

In the first week of August, Lady’s Thumb set on reddish pink spikes near the barn and in areas that my mower cannot reach beneath the orchard trees. The Sweet Vernal Grass forming a border along my creek had turned yellow and resembled lithe stems of wheat.

Chicory, Painting by L. A. Simonsen, in Wild Flowers

Adapted by Asa Don Dickinson from Nature’s Garden

By Neltje Blanchan (Doubleday, 1917, 1926)

Tall Ironweed, one of my favorite wildflowers, began blooming on the edge of my neighbor’s pasture. I say that Tall Ironweed is a favorite of mine because its purple color is so rich and so complementary to the Queen Anne’s Lace and the several yellow wildflowers in bloom at the same time.

Common Chicory, Photograph by Joseph R. Swain

In Norman Taylor’s Wild Flower Gardening (D. Van Nostrand, 1955)

Another of my favorite wildflowers, Chicory had started to proclaim its presence along the road. Chicory’s shade of blue is so indescribable! Maybe it reminds me of a treasured marble when I was a child. The hue is akin to that of the Cornflower but lighter. It, too, blends beautifully with Queen Anne’s Lace, Tall Ironweed, and the various yellow blossoms of summer.