Genus Silphium and Others
Earlier this year, I decided to grow as many species of Silphium as I could find. This was inspired by reading this description in The English Flower Garden by Robinson: "Stout N. American Sunflower-like perennials, of stately habit, and among those which suggested the idea of the 'wild garden' to me." This contrasts with Graham Stuart Thomas, who says, "Course yellow late-flowering daisies for any fertile soil in sun. S. perfoliatum (1766) is occasionally seen and reaches 1.8 m. (6 ft.) in height, but I should not want it in my garden. Nor S. laciniatum, the compass plant, whose deeply cut leaves face north and south when young."
So far, I am on the side of Robinson. I planted four Silphium species in the spring, but only one has grown very well this year. That is S. perfoliatum, the cup plant, so named because water cups between its two leaves where they encircle the stem:
I read somewhere that the cup plant may be carnivorous, gaining nutrition from the insects that drown in its cups. It didn't reach 6 feet, but it is the only Silphium that has flowered, and it's continued flowering for the past month:
The other three species have pushed a few leaves out of the ground this year, but not much more. I'm hoping for better enthusiasm next year. Here is S. terebinthinaceum, on its second round of leaves after the slugs ate the first:
This is the aforementioned S. lanciniatum--but I don't believe the leaves are oriented north to south:
And this is S. integrifolium, which hid behind the rosemary all summer long:
In other garden news, my deadly Aconitum carmichaelii is now flowering. Alice Coats quotes Henry Phillips as saying in 1829: "We find that some persons, only taking the effluvia of the herb by the nostrils, have been seized with swooning fits, and have lost their sight for two or three days." I leaned under the monkshood to get this photograph, but avoided any swooning fits:
Also, the not much respected Elsholtzia stauntonii is now at the peak of its modest beauty. Michael Dirr writes that, "It has no great merit other than the purplish pink flowers that occur in spikose panicles at the end of the stems in September and October." The bees were all over it today:
Finally, here is Abelia x. "Edward Goucher" which seems to be blooming more than ever this year:
So far, I am on the side of Robinson. I planted four Silphium species in the spring, but only one has grown very well this year. That is S. perfoliatum, the cup plant, so named because water cups between its two leaves where they encircle the stem:
I read somewhere that the cup plant may be carnivorous, gaining nutrition from the insects that drown in its cups. It didn't reach 6 feet, but it is the only Silphium that has flowered, and it's continued flowering for the past month:
The other three species have pushed a few leaves out of the ground this year, but not much more. I'm hoping for better enthusiasm next year. Here is S. terebinthinaceum, on its second round of leaves after the slugs ate the first:
This is the aforementioned S. lanciniatum--but I don't believe the leaves are oriented north to south:
And this is S. integrifolium, which hid behind the rosemary all summer long:
In other garden news, my deadly Aconitum carmichaelii is now flowering. Alice Coats quotes Henry Phillips as saying in 1829: "We find that some persons, only taking the effluvia of the herb by the nostrils, have been seized with swooning fits, and have lost their sight for two or three days." I leaned under the monkshood to get this photograph, but avoided any swooning fits:
Also, the not much respected Elsholtzia stauntonii is now at the peak of its modest beauty. Michael Dirr writes that, "It has no great merit other than the purplish pink flowers that occur in spikose panicles at the end of the stems in September and October." The bees were all over it today:
Finally, here is Abelia x. "Edward Goucher" which seems to be blooming more than ever this year:
Comments
Post a Comment