Design

It's spring wildflower time in the Eastern U.S. In our (relatively undisturbed) woodlands (rich cove forests, acidic cove forests, oak-hickory forests, alluvial forests, and others), spring empherals are striking this time of year from late February through May. It's a peak time in the Woodland Wildflower Garden (at the South Carolina Botanical Garden, where I work).  It's a lovely tapestry of Trillium spp., Hexastylis spp. (wild ginger), Podophyllum peltatum (Mayapple), foam flower ( Tiarella cordifolia ), a variety of ferns, and Atamasco lily. Cinnamon fern ( Osmunda cinnamomea)

We now have Oconee Bells ( Shortia galacifolia ), Trout Lily ( Erythronium umbilicatum ), and Hepatica flowering in the Woodland Wildflower Garden at the South Carolina Botanical Garden (where I work). Wow. It's early for the Oconee Bells and Erythronium , but on time for the Hepatica americana , which is usually the first native spring emphemeral to flower in our rich cove forest communities. At the Garden, these were transplanted as rescued plants many years ago. They've struggled in the hot, exceptionally dry summers that we've had in the last decade, as we don't have an source of water there, except for proximity to the stream. They're a wonderful reminder to get out and look for spring wildflowers in our natural areas, state parks, and reserves.

In good years (that is, with normal rainfall and without an unexpectedly late hard frost), this is a time our native trees, shrubs, and woodland wildflowers are bursting with green leaves and spring flowers, creating the green tapestry that is a wonderful part of spring. We've had plenty of rain this spring, thank goodness, helping ease the drought conditions of the last decade, which were at 100-yr extremes over the two years. There are lots of echo effects of drought-stress; shallow-rooted dogwoods and azaleas have succumbed in many neighborhood yards, as well as much older red oaks, pines, and water oaks. But, the rhododendrons in the shady area near the porch look lovely this year. And, my impulse purchase of moisture-loving magenta-flowered bee-balm and a lime-colored heuchera hasn't been for naught. (The two hybrid lobelias, unfortunately, have failed to make a reappearance; they came back last spring, but not this one.)

Here are a few images from the native plant collections at the Botanical Gardens of Asheville. An tough and adaptable wildflower, Green and Gold ( Chrysogonum virginicum ) thrives in conditions from dry dappled sunlight to damper edges; some plants (from northern populations) are much more upright than the prostrate rosettes common in southern populations. These plants, growing in relatively high rich soil, look robust. Firepink ( Silene virginica ) must be challenging to move - I seldom see it for sale as a tranplant. Otherwise, it would be more common as a garden plant! And Iris cristata always is lovely.

A weekend in the mountains of North Carolina rewinds spring. As we climb up in elevation (from about 1000 ft. in Clemson, South Carolina to the 3000 ft. + mountains surrounding Asheville (about 2000 ft.), the leaves in the forest become smaller, the catkins on the oaks and hickories (achoo!) are still in bloom, and it's peak spring wildflower season again. The Botanical Gardens of Asheville, next to the UNC-Asheville campus, has been a favorite place of ours to visit for the last 15 years. A native plant garden established along a beautiful stream on a sloping, boulder-rich site over 50 years ago, it's a wonderful place to see an abundance of native plants -- wildflowers, shrubs, and trees both in natural and garden settings. Now run as an independent non-profit, it seems to be doing well. We only joined last year, when we came on an afternoon that the Botanical Center was open, but we've had such pleasure in visiting over the years, just being a basic member is hardly ...

Not only are all the deciduous forest trees (oaks, beeches, etc.) producing catkins and other sorts of flowers, and expanding fresh young leaves, but our native early spring flowers are making an appearance. The Gelsemium sempervirens (Carolina Jessamine) vine outside my study window is flowering, cascading down through the windowpanes. The Iris cristata , shared with me by a wonderful former volunteer and SC Master Gardener , is starting to flower. And Hexastylis arifolia (Little Brown Jugs) is producing its long-lasting jug-shaped flowers (pollinated by fungus gnats). That's if the plant is lucky!

March brings spring to those of us in the Southeastern U.S. The hints come in winter, with the lovely flowering imports from Asia, Turkey, Greece, and elsewhere. Crocus, snowdrops, daffodils, and spring snowflakes are among the bulbs; ornamental apricots flower in January and camellias flower from fall through winter, depending on the species and cultivar. In good years, Magnolia stellata (Star magnolia) and Magnolia x soulangiana (Saucer magnolia) avoid the late freezes and put on a show. This year is one of those. I d on't have a single picture that I've taken of Saucer magnolia (it's pretty enough, but otherwise not all that interesting from a wildlife gardening point of view, and 4 out of 5 years, the flowers get zapped by frost). So here's a photo downloaded years ago from Clipart.com, now Jupiter Images, I think. But real spring means our ephemeral spring wildflowers: Trilliums , bloodroot, mayapple, Tiarella, Shortia (Oconee Bell), Wild Ginger, and a hos...

Hepatica americana We saw the first Hepatica in flower this morning. It was expected; it's one of the first of our native woodland wildflowers to flower. We'd actually made a detour on our walk to see if flowers were open in a spot we knew and we weren't disappointed. I checked for a post about seeing Hepatica last year ( it was on February 29 ) -- I couldn't remember if I'd made one, but of course, I had. This is an image that my gardening companion took last year. Hepatica flowers open in late morning and close at night. I love retelling the story about the entire lab group in Germany (where I studied after graduate school) making the trek to see the first Hepatica nobilis flowering in the snow. A beloved symbol of spring in Northern Europe, I'm also reminded of the graceful Hepatica logo for an International Botanical Congress in Berlin years ago.