Blue Mistflower (Conoclinium coelestinum): A Seasonal Look

Posted on October 21, 2015 by Tina

The first mistflower plant I ever grew was the Blue Mistflower, Conoclinium coelestinum.

Like Gregg’s Mistflower which I profiled in the most recent A Seasonal Look, this stunning native ground cover is a good autumn perennial to showcase for Texas Native Plant Week. I always think of this mistflower as the blue-headed step-child, especially in comparison to the more commonly grown Gregg’s Mistflower. Blue Mistflower is not as well-known or popular–not one of the cool kid plants, or at least that’s true here in the Austin area. I’m amazed at how few gardeners know about this lovely Texas ground cover.

Just as tough and hardy as its more admired cousin, it’s also a real looker. Pollinator gardening notwithstanding, the Blue Mistflower is my personal favorite. The deep purple-blue flowers,

…in all their puffy pulchritude,

…make me swoon!

I don’t think photos capture the depth of its color. You’ll just have to plant this beauty and see for yourself.

Interestingly, Blue Mistflower has a much wider range of distribution than the Gregg’s Mistflower. I follow several Northern garden bloggers who’ve planted this pretty, though I think it’s probably an annual or tender perennial in some of those places that experience true winter. Its native range is Texas to Florida, but also northward into Illinois and New Jersey (plenty of winter there!) and is grown in other parts of the U.S. as well.

I purchased a four-inch pot of Blue Mistflower for about $1.50 (I don’t remember exactly how much I spent, but it was very little) some 20 years ago. Over time, it filled in a back corner of my garden and put on a reliably gorgeous late summer/fall flower show every year. Eventually, that spot became…something. I never quite figured out the problem, but one spring, only about 10 sprigs returned. So I popped them out of that spot and into a another which receives a tiny bit full sun, but primarily dappled light, throughout the year.

The Blue Mistflower patch has thrived. With an almost identical growth and seasonal pattern as the Gregg’s, the zenith of its blooming occurs during September, October and into November. It is at its peak now.

As the autumn days shorten and cool, the blooms fade from deep blue-purple,

…to soft beige.

After the first hard freeze, the seed heads are wheat-colored and fragile. Like the Gregg’s, I’ve never experienced the Blue Mistflower seeding out, but if you’re so inclined, it’s at this point of the year that the seeds can be sowed.

I tend to leave the winter dormant plant alone until I can’t stand it anymore, then cut it back to not-much-of-anything, except for a light covering of Shumard Oak leaves.

You’ll notice the soaker hose which runs through the middle part of the Blue Mistflower plant. That one hose is generally enough for summer watering, although by hot August and especially if there’s been no precipitation, I sometimes hand water the Blue Mistflower because one hose doesn’t deliver enough moisture to cover all the roots of the entire group. I don’t want the Blue Mistflower to sulk, bloom less, and then cause me to miss out on its gorgeous blooms. I’m not the least bit selfish as a gardener, am I?

With the warmth of spring, the plant returns rapidly. If you look closely at the bottom of the photo, you can see the newly emerged spring growth in March.

Once spring has sprung, the form of the ground cover is firmly established.

While not much of a re-seeder in my garden, Blue Mistflower spreads by the roots. I keep it in bounds by weeding up the edges and passing along sprigs to other gardeners. As with the Gregg’s, I plant smaller evergreens like Iris and Purple Coneflower at the perimeter edges and I also have some container plants placed to visually enforce a stopping point and to give some winter interest. If this Blue Mistflower were planted in full sun, I would have more options for evergreen and structural plants, but this gardener plays the plant cards she’s dealt.

In summer, the foliage is thick and lush.

More than the Gregg’s, which has a comparably controlled growth habit, the Blue Mistflower is a straggler, stems growing wonky and wild over the course of its growing season and that’s especially noticeable once its purple, puffy, floral hats appear.

If you’re a neat-freak gardener you might not like this plant, but I find it casually charming.

Adding to its rangy behavior, Blue Mistflower also puts out stems taller than any of the Gregg’s–upwards of two feet or so.

The leaves of the Blue are triangular-shaped and a darker green shade contrasting with the palmate form and light green foliage of the Gregg’s,

Over the course of summer the foliage continues to grow and the perennial maintains itself as an unexciting, but generally handsome green ground cover, tolerant of heat and summer dry, and sporting the occasional bloom here or there.

In August and in tandem with the Gregg’s Mistflower–the fun begins with fuzzy-wuzzy blooming!!

While Tina the Gardener finds the flowers more alluring than those of the Gregg’s Mistflower, the same cannot be said about most pollinators. The Blue is a good pollinator plant, but not an excellent one, like the Gregg’s.

Monarchs like it just fine.

Honeybees tend to agree.

This Southern Oak Hairstreak, Satyrium favonius favonius, isn’t complaining about Blue Mistflower, either.

But I’ve never witnessed quite the variety of pollinator activity on the Blue Mistflower as on the Gregg’s. If you only have room for one, I’d suggest the Gregg’s, because the pollinators need all the help we can give them and the Gregg’s Mistflower is a Boss Pollinator Plant.

There is a fast flying and hardly landing tiny moth or skipper that I see each fall, flitting around the base of the plant, but it’s been a tough one to capture. I finally snagged a decent photo of one who perched (briefly!) for the camera.

I’ve also seen this one on the Gregg’s too, but it seems to prefer the Blue. I’m glad the Blue Mistflower has a committed pollinating pal.

Even though it’s not quite the power-house pollinator plant that some others are, Blue Mistflower still warms my heart and will always be welcome in my Texas garden!

As a whole and as an addition to a native plants/wildlife garden, Blue Mistflower is a terrific choice for anyone gardening in its range, who seeks a water-wise, attractive, hardy native ground cover that thrives–in both bloom and foliage–in sun or part-shade.

In Spring.

Summer.

Fall.

Winter.

Gregg’s Mistflower (Conoclinium greggii): A Seasonal Look

Posted on October 19, 2015 by Tina

It’s that time of year again: Monarch butterflies, Danaus plexippus, are migrating through Texas on their way to winter in Mexico. And what nectar delights do they partake of in their nutritional pit-stops? Many blooming things, but they prefer sipping from native flowers and high on a list of favorites is the Gregg’s Mistflower, Conoclinium greggii.

As part of the 2015 celebratory edition of Texas Native Plant Week, let’s take A Seasonal Look at this gorgeous native ground cover–friend to gardener and pollinator alike.

It’s October and even in my part-shade garden, the Gregg’s Mistflower blooms up in fuzzy, lavender-blue gorgeousness.

Mid-September through Mid-November hosts the peak flowering for this tough and lovely native Texas-to-Arizona plant. In its native range, Gregg’s Mistflower is perennial and acts as a ground cover in the garden, reaching a height of only about 12 inches during its blooming period and spreading to cover as much or little space as the gardener will tolerate or encourage.

A member of the Asteraceae family, the flowers are gorgeous, showy,

…and unusual. Additionally, they are constantly visited by many a pollinating critter.

Along with Monarchs,

…the Queen butterfly, Danaus gilippus, prefers Gregg’s Mistflower over other nectar choices.

I planted my G. Mistflower group from passed along sprigs with healthy roots attached, and have, in turned, gifted to other enthralled gardeners seeking beauty in botanic and pollinator form. The flowers are what most gardeners prize the Gregg’s for, but it is generally a no-fuss plant–it carries no disease problems and is a water-wise addition to any Texas-tough garden.

Once its flowering has peaked, the fuzzy blooms fade to a tawny beige.

I find the spent blooms quite attractive and I have witnessed finches sneaking snacks from the seed heads.

After the first hard freeze and subsequent foliage drop, the color of the spent blooms lighten just a bit.

Through December and January, the seed heads become more fragile and begin dispersal. I’ve never experienced Gregg’s Mistflower re-seeding into other parts of my garden, or elsewhere for that matter. In my garden it spreads primarily by the roots in the immediate vicinity of the mother plant. Due to lazy-gardener syndrome, I usually leave the thin and fragile remains of Gregg’s Mistflower, seed heads and stems, mingling with the fallen foliage from deciduous trees through the course of winter.

I become serious about clean-up only upon arrival of the first spring growth.

Since Gregg’s Mistflower is dormant during winter, you might want to plant companions of non-native, but evergreen Iris, or native and evergreen Cedar Sage, Salvia roemeriana, Lyre-leaf Sage, Salvia lyrata, or Gulf Coast Penstemon, Penstemon tenuis–all which are spring bloomers–allowing for seasonal interest when Mistflower is dormant. Additionally, by planting evergreens along the edges where you want to limit the spread of Gregg’s Mistflower, you can give a sense of structure to the garden.

Once the warmer temperatures return and spring growth is well-underway, Gregg’s Mistflower grows quickly–adding plenty of filler foliage to augment spring’s beauty. It is a plant that requires some tidying around the edges so that it doesn’t insinuate itself too much out of its desired range, but is easily controlled by simply weeding out the wayward growth and passing along to other native plants gardeners!

The foliage is a stunning bright green and is lobed, or palmate, in shape.

Its other common names (aside from Gregg’s Mistflower) pay homage to the palmate foliage. Names like Palm-leaf Mistflower, Palm-leaf Thoroughwort, Purple Palmleaf Mistflower, Purple Palm Leaf Eupatorium are certainly descriptive, though I’m personally fond of the “Gregg’s”. Named after Josiah Gregg , who was one of the 19th century naturalists who traveled throughout Texas and catalogued plants (and other things as well), Gregg’s Mistflower is one of many plants named in his honor.

Gregg’s returns from dormancy rapidly and usually there are smatterings of blooms during spring and summer, but the real flower-power show begins in August, picking up blooming steam during September and October, with a slacking off as November strolls through the garden.

So pretty.

Gregg’s Mistflower is not only an excellent pollinator plant, but also the host plant for the Rawson’s Metalmark Butterfly, Calephelis rawsoni.

Gregg’s Mistflower grow and bloom best in full to part sun, but will take shade. In a garden that I once managed at Zilker Botanical Garden, one group of Gregg’s Mistflower grew in light shade–it received no direct sun throughout the day. The foliage was lanky, but still attractive, and the blooms appeared, less abundantly, but on schedule during the autumn months, just like its brethren growing in more sun. In decent soil, this hardy plant only takes about two years to cover a 4×4 foot area. With rockier soil or a shadier spot, the Gregg’s Mistflower covers a similar patch more slowly.

If you enjoy (snort!) deer visiting your garden, be aware that they’re likely to nibble your Mistflower, so if you can grow it in a spot where the ungulate beasties can’t get to the plant, you’ll be a satisfied gardener, even if you’re frustrating your deer visitors

Gregg’s Mistflower, Conoclinium greggii, is a plant that works in any Texas garden, sun or shade, rocky or clayey, formal or casual, and is coveted by pollinators and gardeners.

In Spring,

Summer,

Autumn,

Winter.

Turk’s Cap (Malvaviscus arboreus var. drummondii): A Seasonal Look

Posted on August 27, 2015 by Tina

Turk’s cap, Malvaviscus arboreus var. drummondii was one of the first native plants that I became acquainted with when I began my native plants gardening adventure.

From the beginning, I was smitten.

Over the years, I’ve planted seven Turk’s Cap shrubs, all of which spread and developed into large specimen plants which anchor several of my garden beds during the course of the long growing seasons here in sunny Austin, Texas.

Turk’s Cap is a native southern United States plant, but is also native to Mexico and Cuba. There are cultivars of this plant, like ‘Big Momma’, (who names these??) , that are listed as herbaceous perennials in USDA gardening zones 7-10. Though this native Texan dies to the ground during our normal winters (except in South Texas), this hardy shrub emerges every spring and gifts to the garden and wildlife a long and prolific parade of blooms and fruits.

The Turk’s Cap is not picky about soil, nor does it need much water once established. Considered an understory plant, Turk’s Caps are best in shade,

…but flourish in full sun and anything in between. In full sun, the leaves will turn downwards, darken, and crinkle in a manner that many gardeners find unattractive. The plant looks like it’s struggling in the blazing sun and heat, but even under those conditions, Turk’s Cap is a tough and drought hardy perennial. All of my Turk’s Cap shrubs grow in shade to part-shade and in fairly heavy soil, but I’ve seen others perform beautifully in full sun while planted in sand. In shade and part shade though, the foliage is lush and suggestive of plants that are tropical mallows–which Turk’s Cap is!

Turk’s Caps are classified as shrubs, but I always think of them as a forming in a cluster or thicket and as performing more like herbaceous perennials. They tend toward the amorphous–shooting upwards and outwards from their thick roots after winter and reaching for the sky throughout spring, summer and into autumn.

During a wet spring, Turk’s Caps grow quickly, adding lots of stem length and leafy greens. Over the course of the growing season, those stems can flop over and look rangy, especially once heavily laden with masses of blooms. That’s a fine way to go if you’re aiming for a casual, wild garden. But if structure in the garden is a goal, Turk’s Caps can and should be pruned. Here is an example of a wayward limb.

The snipped off wayward limb allows a more formal look. This group,

…is one that I should have pruned back after our heavy rains in the spring and early summer (2015). I failed to complete that little chore and now this shrub has limbs flailing and falling this-a-way and that. I don’t think this is horrible and certainly bees, butterflies and hummingbirds have no issue with wonky limbs, but the human Turk’s Cap tender who prefers a tidier look, should keep this hardy shrub checked. This example is more representative of how I like my Turk’s Caps:

Actually, this large bunch is one of the first Turk’s Caps that I planted and is over 20 years old.

To keep the mature Turk’s Cap well-shaped, I prune up the outside limbs to about 2 feet in height, the next group inward to about 3-4 feet in height, in a graduated form, shorter to taller, toward the middle of the shrub. In general, I only prune for shape in late spring, with the occasional lopping off, as needed, in late summer or fall. It’s an easy, quick chore and I only prune what needs pruning.

Here in Austin, Turk’s Caps emerge from the ground in early spring with fresh and vibrant green foliage.

Depending upon rainfall, Turk’s Caps will grow in a moderate to rapid pace. If the spring is wet, the stems grow to about 4-5 feet, sometimes reaching 6 feet tall by late May, but often with little bloom development. During drought, moderate or otherwise, the foliage growth is slowed, but flower development (at least in my garden) isn’t retarded at all. Personally, I prefer Turk’s Caps during drought–these shrubs grow and bloom, without the rank limb development that occurs in wet years; the shrubs don’t require pruning under those circumstances and that’s a good deal for the lazy gardener.

Ahem.

Turk’s Caps begin their flower show in late spring (May in Austin) and the blooming continues throughout the summer months, with no rest. Summer is when Turk’s Caps shine.

Or rather, bloom like crazy.

The shrubs produce masses of blooms, each day, with each bloom lasting for several days. In a cluster, one can find buds, blooms and those destined to become fruits.

The petite flowers are stunning: they remind me of a jaunty turban, complete with pollen plume.

The Turk’s Cap belongs in the Mallow or Malvaceae family, thus sharing many characteristics with other hibiscus plants. The ruby-red, tiny hibiscus blooms never quite open.

Bees of all kinds, butterflies, and hummingbirds love these blooms.

Additionally, because the Turk’s Cap shrubs form thicket-like, birds and lizards use it for cover. Turk’s Caps are considered moderately deer resistant.

One of the things you’ll notice in these photos are holes in the foliage. During some summers, there is munching of the wide and wonderful Turk’s Caps foliage.

In the American garden of the past century, sterile, non-insect attracting plants were the desired garden outcome. As we have come to realize that wildlife is seriously threatened and in decline, the wildlife-friendly gardener recognizes that insects, often the larval stage of important pollinators like butterflies and moths, will eat foliage. Furthermore, it’s actually okay that they eat foliage–that’s what they’re supposed to do and that’s what the plant is there for. The plant won’t die; it’s uncommon for an insect herbivore to actually kill its host plant. It happens, but it’s not the norm. Are the holes unattractive? Well, it depends upon whether you want foliage that looks unreal–completely pristine and untouched–or whether you understand that there is a powerful and complex food chain mechanism at work in your garden. I like to think that the holes in the foliage are feeding beneficial insects that become pollinators or perhaps, food for birds or small mammals. Acceptance of some leaf damage is all about perspective and some knowledge of the natural world. Remember that plants were invented to serve insects, birds, and mammals.

Once fall is firmly in play, with its shorter days and eventually, cooler nights, Turk’s Cap shrubs cease blooming. Here in Austin, that occurs in October. The fruits begin developing in late summer,

…and turn a luscious red during the fall months. I’ve never tasted them (not sure why, I should correct that!) but the fruits reportedly taste like apples. The Spanish name for Turk’s Cap is Manzanilla, which means “little apple”–and you can clearly see why.

In my garden, Blue Jays and Mockingbirds are particularly fond of these fruits.

As the days and nights cool, the Turk’s Cap foliage turns yellow.

It’s not a particularly spectacular fall foliage display and in fact, the limbs lose some foliage and the plant becomes sparse and spindly during the cooler fall and early winter months, prior to the first hard freeze. In late fall, If my Turk’s Caps look sloppy, I trim them up just a bit to give the shrub a neater look.

The meager foliage in late fall is in striking contrast with the lushness that is the signature of the spring, summer, early/mid fall growth pattern.

In my urban garden, it takes a hard freeze to completely knock the Turk’s Caps to the ground for the duration of winter.

At that point, sticks rising from the ground is what a Turk’s Cap shrub is. I let the leaves fall as mulch and then, when I can no longer stand the brown gloom,

…I whack them back to the ground. That singular event, usually undertaken in late January or early February, is the major pruning that this plant requires. The result a minimalist garden look, to say the least. It’s a good idea to pair Turk’s Cap shrubs with evergreen or structured plants so that the minimalist look is, well, minimized. Here in Austin, winters are variable–sometimes they are consistently chilly with freezes throughout on a regular schedule; sometimes winters are very mild with no freezes at all. In mild no-freeze winters, I usually prune the still-green limbs with a few new leaves to about 12 inches from the ground in February.

The toughest situation for plants is when a hard freeze occurs early (I define “early” as anytime in December), with the remainder of winter being mild–no hard freezes at all. In that situation, Turk’s Caps will flush out with new growth in January or early February. No worries though for an established Turk’s Cap plant; the early growth will be slow and if there is a hard freeze once the new growth appears, the freeze will damage the leaves and maybe the stems, but the tough plant will survive. At that point, prune to where there is green on the stem, sit back and let spring happen.

I’ve paired some of my Turk’s Cap shrubs with a native Texas groundcover, Heartleaf Skullcap, Scutellaria ovata ssp. bracteata, because I like the combo of the bright green Turk’s Cap foliage mixed with the subtler, softer Heartleaf foliage throughout late winter and spring.

Very nice.

Once past winter’s chill, Turk’s Caps flourish–in foliage and blooms.

Turk’s Cap is a staple plant in my garden. Lovely and reliable, it’s a rich wildlife plant, as well as being a water wise and low-maintenance plant for the gardener.

Spring