Milkweed Flats

Posted on January 30, 2015 by Tina

Milkweed flats.

No, it’s not a charming name for some geographical feature out here in the Wild West. Instead, it’s a possible remedy, though by no means a complete solution, for the imperiled migrating North American Monarch butterfly. Monarchwatch.org is an education, conservation and research organization benefitting the Monarch butterfly. One of their newer projects is a “milkweed market” where they’re supplying flats of native milkweed plugs, specific to region, for sale to interested gardeners and citizen scientists.

The Monarch requires the milkweed, Asclepias, species for its survival. The females lay their eggs on the milkweed plant, the larvae eat at that plant (and that plant ONLY). The larvae form into the chrysalides, hatch into adults, and the cycle continues with the next breeding generation. Adult Monarchs can feed from a variety of nectar sources, though they typically prefer native plants and wildflowers. The larvae? Those green/black/yellow cats only have jaws for milkweed. All this eating, morphing, flying, and breeding occurs during the remarkable 2000-3000 mile yearly migration: winter in Mexico, flying through Texas in spring, then upwards through the mid-West to Canada in the summer, back again through Texas in autumn, finally to their mountain habitat in Mexico for winter.

The availability of native milkweed is in severe decline because of habitat destruction throughout the United States and Mexico, the use of Monsanto produced Roundup for the Roundup-resistant genetically modified seeds in the mid-West, (which has destroyed huge areas of not only native milkweed, but other flowering annuals and perennials), ongoing drought in Texas, as well as other changes in weather patterns. With declining milkweed, comes declining Monarch population. Adding to those difficulties, “milkweed” is not a monolithic plant; its various species are endemic to particular areas and not easily propagated.

If I can beg further patience, I’ll get to the milkweed flats….

The most common milkweed species found in American plant nurseries is the Tropical Milkweed, Asclepias curassavica, and is not native to the continental U.S. I’ve never read why it’s the most commonly sold, I just assume it’s easiest to propagate and sell because it thrives in a wide range of situations. Commercial nurseries are in the business to make money, so they’re most likely to sell a plant with a wide distribution, rather than plants that are regional, with more local appeal. Native milkweed plants are just not readily available at most commercial nurseries. Though I should add that seeds are available for those who have the space and time to germinate and grow their own plants.

Tropical Milkweed, in certain areas of the southern U.S., pose an additional problem for migrating Monarchs (as if they don’t already have enough challenges!). Most milkweed species die back during winter, re-emerging in spring to coincide with the Monarch migration northward. Tropical Milkweed doesn’t die back in the South and can harbor disease which spreads to Monarchs when they lay their eggs for the larvae. Tropical Milkweed is not the problem, per se, but milkweed that doesn’t die back in winter, is–or at least, the preliminary and ongoing research suggests that overwintering milkweed increases the manifestation and spread of OE, short for Ophryocystis elektroscirrha. OE is a protozoan parasite that cripples and kills Monarchs. The current suggestion is that gardeners prune their Tropical Milkweed for winter, 2 inches above the ground, to limit the possibility of disease spread. While OE is a problem, further study is required and scientists who study Monarchs concur that widespread herbicide use and habitat destruction play a more significant role in declining populations of these remarkable insects than any problems Tropical Milkweed might cause.

Monarch scientists and enthusiasts encourage planting milkweed specifically native to each eco-region of the U.S.

And that brings us to milkweed flats.

Monarchwatch.org is selling flats of 32 native-to-region milkweed plugs. Each flat sells for $63-$69 (including shipping). Click here for the milkweed market link for more information on their process of seed collection, ordering information and links to milkweed photos and descriptions.

Because the flats are a bit pricey and milkweed grows best in full sun and I don’t have lots of sun or gardening room for 32 milkweed plants (wish I did…), I’ve joined with two gardening friends in ordering one flat of native-to-where-we-live milkweed. I still have six Tropical Milkweed specimens that I planted in 2014–it’s a valuable plant and I wouldn’t deny the migrating Monarchs nectar and larval food, but once my native milkweed plugs arrive and are planted, I’ll also have native milkweed in my garden available for their dining and brooding pleasures.

Wouldn’t it be cool if gardeners from the Rio Grande Valley all the way up to the Great Lakes purchased and shared flats of milkweed plugs? Wouldn’t it be groovy to plant for the Monarchs, a solid path of nectar sources and nurseries, along their whole migration route?

Please support these efforts to help Monarchs. Checkout the milkweed market of monarchwatch.org and consider planting native milkweed for Monarchs. Encourage your local nurseries to supply native milkweed plants. Look at Native American Seed or Wildseed Farm, as additional seed sources.

It’s all about the Monarch and its future.

For more information, click on these links:

Q & A: Grad Student Dara Satterfield on Tropical Milkweed and Monarch Butterflies

http://texasbutterflyranch.com/2014/11/24/nytimes-commercial-butterfly-breeders-raise-awareness-of-oe-to-help-monarch

http://switchboard.nrdc.org/blogs/sfallon/keep_calm_and_plant_milkweed.html

Texas Butterfly Ranch

Cedar Sage Sensation

Posted on January 28, 2015 by Tina

Normally, I wouldn’t give Cedar Sage, Salvia roemeriana, much thought this time of year. A lovely perennial which reaches the zenith of its beauty during spring blooming time, the nice little winter rosettes,

…are fine-n-dandy, but not enough to ‘wow’ about now. But it’s Wildflower Wednesday (thanks to Gail at clay and limestone for hosting) and I’m going to gloat a bit because one of my Cedar Sage plants is in flower-power mode!

Mmmm. Gorgeous, brilliant red, tubular blooms!! Such eye candy in a dappled shade garden! Even more so as there’s almost nothing else abloom at the moment.

Normal flowering for this small, Texas native, pollinator-friendly perennial is spring to early summer, roughly April to June. The literature suggests that it blooms on and off throughout summer, though mine never blooms past June. That it’s blossoming in late January is odd–it hasn’t happened in my garden ever before. In the public gardens where I formerly worked, I once saw a Cedar Sage with flowers in October and I was surprised and pleased at that out-of-season gift.

I’m not complaining about this January wonder–it was a lovely sight last week to see the flowers dancing above the winter rosette, during a rainy few days.

But it’s during late spring that this perennial acting-as-a-ground cover really dazzles.

The scarlet blooms brighten the landscape and provide for a variety of pollinators. I’ve never seen a hummingbird nectaring at the blooms, though Cedar Sage is considered a hummingbird plant. As a member of the salvia species, you can bet it’s deer resistant and it’s a water-wise choice for the shade to dappled-shade garden.

After its typical flowering in spring, the seed heads remain attractive through most of the summer. I don’t prune the stalks back until late summer, or even into autumn–just because I let them seed out and I enjoy the spidery reach of the tawny stalks from the green basal leaves.

Clearly, I didn’t prune this plant back at all.

The Cedar Sage is so-called because it evolved to grow under the shade of Ashe Juniper, Juniperus ashei–commonly called “mountain cedar,” “cedar,” or “damn cedar” (by those highly allergic to its pollen). The foliage of the Ashe Juniper is fine, thus allowing the Cedar Sage seedlings to germinate easily. According the the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center plant data base information, Cedar Sage have trouble germinating under the canopy of large-leafed deciduous trees, owing to the fallen leaves blocking the seeds from soil (and light too, I suppose), thus preventing germination. That hasn’t proven true in my garden though. The plant blooming now is under a non-native Arizona Ash tree, Fraxinus velutina, and the group in my back garden reside under a native Shumard Oak tree, Quercus shumardii. Of course, I do rake up fallen leaves, but my gardens are well-mulched, so I imagine that I don’t get as many seedlings in the garden proper as I would if I didn’t mulch. In fact, many of my Cedar Sage seedlings appear in adjacent pathways. Regardless, there are always a few seedlings each winter from the previous year’s crop of flowers and resulting seeds, and I transplant them to spread their crimson glory.

Cedar Sage is native to a large, but specific area of Texas–from Central to West Texas, in the Edwards Plateau ecoregion; their native range extends southward into northern Mexico.

If you live elsewhere, Cedar Sage might be available as a tender perennial or annual. If you’re in Central to South Texas, it’s a must-have shade plant.

Thanks again to clay and limestone for promoting the beauty and practicality of native plants–click on over and check wildflower plants showcased this January, 2015.

Bird Bath Survivor

Posted on January 26, 2015 by Tina

All summer and fall, when lifting the bowl of this bird bath to clean and refill with fresh water,

…I observed a hardy sprig of native Heartleaf Skullcap, Scutellaria ovata ssp. bracteata, clamoring up from the deep, dark, depth.

Wan and pale, thin and spindly, this bit of perennial was ever-growing from the moist soil of the cavity, trying to make its way into the garden. I didn’t think much of it, except that it was charming and rather remarkable that this remaining remnant from spring was surviving in less-than-ideal conditions and that it continued growing, inside the pedestal, slowly, throughout summer and into autumn.

Recently, I noticed this.

Yup, that’s the same individual, all grown up and emerging from its bird bath terrarium, into the outside world, saying “Hi!” and readying for spring blooming, hosting of pollinators, and spreading its plant DNA.