Fall Colors in the Native Garden

Fall leaf colors are often talked about, but fall flower colors are lighting up the landscape right now. If I were go to a field, a wild field, the colors there would a mixture of yellow, purple and white. If I could find a field that hasn’t been mowed down by the power company, that is!

New England aster (Symphyotrichum novae-angliae)

Oh, anyway, the point is that nature’s wild combinations can be beautifully replicated in your own garden and can be a source of delight to the butterflies, moths, beetles, flies and bees that are looking for pollen and nectar this time of year. Here are some ideas.

Bright yellow flowers of late summer/early autumn come in all shapes and sizes. Most noticeable are the goldenrods (Solidago spp.) which many people still fear as a source of allergies. This is not true as the pollen of goldenrod is too heavy to be wind-borne. Other people are nervous that goldenrod is too aggressive for the garden. There are actually several species of goldenrod that are known as “clumpers”and which can be used in the garden.

Grey goldenrod (Solidago nemoralis) is a nice clumper

Other yellow flowers include some of the members of the sunflower family (Helianthus spp.). Swamp sunflower (Helianthus angustifolius) is probably the star of the season with its statuesque form and large bright flowers. I am also very fond of the Appalachian sunflower (H. atrorubens). Flowers known as “golden asters” are also blooming: silkgrass (Pityopsis graminifolia), Maryland aster (Chrysopsis mariana) and yellow camphorweed (Heterotheca subaxillaris).

Swamp sunflower (H. angustifolius) has narrow leaves and showy flowers

Liatris pilosa with Solidago and Lobelia

Purple flowers are an excellent foil for the yellow flowers. There are several late season blazing stars (Liatris spp.) blooming now.

Monarch butterflies are very fond of blazing stars. Around here, it is primarily Liatris pilosa. I am trying to cultivate Liatris aspera in my garden as well; it blooms a little earlier.

 

 

Symphyotrichum patens

 Where the blazing stars leave off, the asters take over. A variety of pale to deep blue asters are native to Georgia and are excellent drought tolerant perennials. First to bloom is the one oddly enough known as "late purple aster" (Symphyotrichum patens). It is very similar in form to Georgia aster, with tall rough stems, clasping leaves and sparsely arranged flowers.

I can only tell them apart when they bloom.

Symphyotrichum georgianum

Georgia aster (Symphyotrichum georgianum) has larger and more deeply colored purple flowers. The flowers can be up to 2 inches wide. It lacks the bright yellow center of S. patens, instead having a cream colored center that darkens to purple once the center disk flowers are open. It is a sprawling plant and looks best in its natural habitat where it is propped up by native grasses and other plants.

Two additional native blue asters have been cultivated extensively: New England aster (Symphyotrichum novae-angliae) and aromatic aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium). New England aster is native to northern areas of Georgia while aromatic aster is native to adjacent states to our north and west.

If you are looking for garden worthy asters, you might enjoy reading this report by the Mt. Cuba Center on their trials. Although their growing conditions are different, you might find some of the observations useful.

Symphyotrichum dumosum

White flowers may not get all the glory, but they do a lot of work in the late season garden. To those of us trying to identify white asters as to specific species, there is a dizzying array of them. Seriously, there are a lot of them. The rest of you can just say “Oh look, small white asters!”

I love to watch the assortment of skippers, hover flies and tiny bees that visit these flowers.

Ageratina altissima

Blooming right in there with them are the late thoroughworts (Eupatorium spp.) and white snakeroot (Ageratina altissima).

So if you're looking for a colorful and natural fall garden that supports a healthy population of native insects, look to the yellows, blues and whites for inspiration.

Number 12

The number twelve is what pops into my mind when I think of hawthorns (Crataegus spp.). Is it because there are 12 species of hawthorn in Georgia? No, there are actually 53 species of Crataegus native to Georgia according to the USDA database, although a reference created for Georgia lists only 36 of “widespread occurrence”.  Twelve is the location of hawthorn on the list of top 20 woody plants in support of Lepidoptera in the mid-Atlantic region. Oak is number one, cherry is number two and after that all I can remember is hawthorn is number 12.

Spring flower, Crataegus uniflora

Hawthorn is a lovely small tree in general and deserves increased usage for more reasons than being number 12. Crisp white flowers in the spring make some of the species good alternatives to overused spring-flowering trees like ornamental pears (which are not native). 

 

Crataegus viridis ‘Winter King’

The cultivar Crataegus viridis ‘Winter King’ is a commonly available choice that grows up to 30 feet tall. A good display of flowers turns into a spectacular fall fruit show. It is also considered both drought and urban tolerant once established.

It is true that hawthorns do have thorns. Some plants have large thorns while others have more modest ones. Once trees reach a certain height, however, the thorns are not much of an issue to the average passerby. Hawthorns are sun loving plants and will flower and fruit best when sited for 6 or more hours of sun. I have several species native to my property and only those in sun produce flowers. 

Fall fruit, Crataegus triflora

As with any plant that has such a wide variety of species, there are species adapted to both dry and wet conditions. The coastal species Crataegus aestivalis, known for its fruit being made into mayhaw jelly, is naturally found in wet areas. Crataegus uniflora was the first hawthorn I ever noticed. It grows well in the dry woodland edges on my property. Handsome leaves frame white flowers that yield to small fruits in the late summer.

Washington hawthorn, C. phaenopyrum

Other popular landscape hawthorns include parsley hawthorn (C. marshallii) and Washington hawthorn (C. phaenopyrum). Parsley hawthorn has delicately shaped leaves and naturally grows in moist areas but does fine in average garden conditions. Washington hawthorn has small glossy fruits in abundance. 

Atypical fall leaves
of parsley hawthorn (C. marshallii)

 

C. spathulata

Little hip hawthorn (C. spathulata) is another species that is both attractive and adaptable.

If fruit size is important, look for downy hawthorn, C. mollis, or mayhaw, C. aestivalis. Fall color is not especially noted for hawthorns, although both Washington hawthorn, C. phaenopyrum,  and Crataegus viridis ‘Winter King’ are indicated as having reliable color.

Whether you want spring flowers, fall fruit, a plant to deter burglars, or just like having a plant that supports over 150 different Lepidoptera, hawthorn is well worth considering.

Fall fruit, C. munda

Reference: The 2006 edition of Tipularia, the Journal of the Georgia Botanical Society, features a thorough treatment of the hawthorns found in Georgia and includes a key and pictures of most species. Older copies of Tipularia may be obtained by contacting the editor.

What You Don’t See Still Exists

Pretty obvious statement, I know, but a reminder doesn’t hurt. This has been a very discouraging year for some wildlife, particularly insects such as monarch butterflies and bees. Even more discouraging is that the ramifications extend beyond this year.  Lower insect populations mean lower bird populations in the future. Birds whose populations were already low may reach critically low levels, levels that make it hard to keep breeding. 

Chestnut-sided warbler

Last week I happened to look out my window at just the right moment to see an unusual bird flitting through the bushes nearby. I snapped a quick picture through the window screen. Not a good picture, but it was enough for me to identify that it was a hooded warbler. He had a few companions with him and I got a better picture of one of them. It appears to be an immature chestnut-sided warbler.

As the birds searched for (and found) a few insects to eat, I was glad that my plants had a few caterpillars on them. I was glad I had not used any pesticides. My friend JoAnn said that warblers come through in the morning this time of year as they migrate. They stop and rest for a while and refuel on insects (warblers are insectivores). I have seen small birds in the tops of trees some mornings – they always move quickly, as if searching, and chatter amongst themselves.

If I hadn’t seen these by my window at just that moment (they were quickly gone) then I never would have known that they come through. Or that they exist.

 

Trichostema dichotomum

Other things are overlooked. Tiny blue curls (Trichostema dichotomum), blooming now, are hardly noticed. Should they go extinct, would we notice? The species exists for a reason – we know that it supports native bees for example. 

Chamaecrista fasciculata

More people notice the colorful partridge pea (Chamaecrista fasciculata). It is considered a weed by most despite its cheerful yellow blossoms. 

It is a host plant for sulphur butterflies such as this pale cloudless sulphur that gracefully floats through the late summer garden. I had a lot of them last year so I’m glad that someone let their weeds live.

Cloudless sulphur (Phoebis sennae)

I went out to walk the dog for the night and a small grey moth flew away from the plant I brushed past. Without that encounter I would not have known it existed. Yet it and many other species of similar moths do exist and they play a role in our ecosystem. 

Perhaps one like it laid the egg that became this caterpillar now munching on the Conoclinium coelestinum. Perhaps this caterpillar will be the one to give tomorrow’s visiting warbler the energy to go a little further towards its winter home. I likely will not even see the encounter. But it doesn’t make it any less real.

Conoclinium coelestinum

Tadpoles are swimming in a bucket that holds water from our heavy summer rains. I can watch mosquitos lay their eggs (while their friends bite me). You probably think mosquitoes are useless, but they are actually the perfect size meal for hummingbirds and an important source of protein for them.  I hope the tadpoles are eating some of the larvae in the water, helping the frogs reach adulthood. It's part of the process.

The natural world around us is complex, but each piece carefully intersects with another. It’s good to remember that because our stewardship is important. So that even though we don't see them ... they will still be there.