We’ve reached that point where you can’t walk through a field, drive down a road, or visit a forest without seeing flowers, because at this time of year they are everywhere. It is high summer and though I love spring I don’t see how any other season could be called more beautiful than this one.
Canada thistle (Cirsium arvense) blooms in the tall grass of unmown meadows. It isn’t covered with sharp spines like the larger bull thistle (Cirsium vulgare) that most of us have tangled with, but it does have small spines along the leaf margins and stem. Despite its common name the plant is actually a native of Europe but has spread to virtually every country in the northern hemisphere. It has a deep and extensive creeping root system and is nearly impossible to eradicate once it gains a foothold. For that reason it is considered a noxious weed in many states.
Noxious weed or not I like the flowers of Canada thistle. In a way they remind me of knapweed, which is another noxious weed. The plant isn’t considered invasive here in New Hampshire but it is on the watch list. Where I find them growing they haven’t spread at all, and in fact this year there were fewer plants than last year.
Pretty little fringed loosestrife (Lysimachia ciliata) is the last of the native yellow loosestrifes to bloom in this area. Great colonies of the knee high plant can be found along roadsides and wood edges, and along waterways. It might be confused with whorled loosestrife (Lysimachia quadrifolia) if the two plants bloomed at the same time, but in this area fringed loosestrife blooms later. The flowers on fringed loosestrife are about the size of a quarter and nod to face the ground. On whorled loosestrife they face outward. The leaf arrangements on the two plants are also very different.
Fringed loosestrife gets its common name from the fringe of hairs on its leafstalks, but sometimes the flower petals are also fringed like they are on this example. It’s a cheery, pretty plant that often gets overlooked because there is just so much in bloom at this time of year. The flowers of fringed loosestrife are unusual because of the way they offer oils instead of nectar to insects. The oils are called elaiosomes and are fleshy structures that are attached to the seeds of many plant species. They are rich in lipids and proteins. Many plants have elaiosomes that attract ants, which take the seed to their nest and feed them to their larvae. Trout lily is another plant with elaiosomes.
Though many people think the flowers are where the name fringed loosestrife comes from it is actually from the fine hairs that line the leaf stalks (petioles.) The ciliata part of the scientific name means “fringed with hairs,” and so they are. Native Americans used all of our yellow loosestrifes medicinally for various ailments, usually in the form of tea.
No matter how many times I see the Allegheny monkey flower (Mimulus ringens) I don’t see a monkey, but whoever named it obviously did. This plant gets about knee high and likes to grow in wet, sunny places, and isn’t all that common. I usually have a hard time finding it.
Allegheny monkey flowers have square stems and are also called square stemmed monkey flowers. I didn’t know at the time I saw this flower that it had so much moisture on it. That’s odd because it was a warm sunny day and I wonder if it was sweating. The throat of this flower is partially closed and bumblebees are one of the few insects strong enough to pry it open to get at the nectar. Native Americans and early settlers sometimes used the leaves as an edible green.
Vervain (Verbena hastata) is described as having reddish blue or violet flowers but I see a beautiful blue color. Somebody else must have seen the same thing, because they named the plant blue vervain. Vervain can get quite tall and has erect, terminal flower clusters. The plant likes wet places but even though we’ve had many inches of rainfall this year, I had a hard time finding it.
Vervain flowers are quite small but there are usually so many blooming that they’re easy to spot. The bitter roots of this plant were used medicinally by Native Americans to relieve gastric irritation, as an expectorant, and to induce sweating. The seeds were roasted and ground into a flour or meal by some tribes, and the flowers were dried and used as snuff to treat nose bleeds. Natives introduced the plant to the European settlers and they used it in much the same ways.
I used to see quite a lot of floating bladderwort (Utricularia gibba,) but I haven’t seen any in the last two years. Instead I’m now finding common bladderwort (Utricularia macrorhiza.) This plant also floats but when it’s ready for dormancy its bladders fill with water and it sinks, and I find it in the mud at the edge of a pond. Its flowers are much larger than those of floating bladderwort and though this shot isn’t very good they’re easier to get a photo of when they aren’t floating.
Common bladderwort can be distinguished from other bladderworts by the spur on the flower. The name bladderwort comes from the small inflated sacs on the plant’s roots that open to trap aquatic organisms. There are tiny hairs on the bladder’s trap door which are very sensitive. When an aquatic organism touches these hairs the door opens, the organism is sucked inside and the door closes, trapping it. This all happens in about 5 milliseconds and is one of the fastest plant movements ever recorded.
Pipsissewa (Chimaphila umbellata) grows in large colonies and is easy to find because of its shiny green leaves that shine winter and summer and last up to 4 years. Like other wintergreens it likes dry, sandy, undisturbed soil in pine forests. Pipsissewa was once used as a flavoring in candy and soft drinks, including root beer. Its name is fun to say. It’s a Native American Cree word meaning “It-breaks-into-small-pieces.” This is because it was used as a treatment for kidney stones and was thought to break them into pieces.
Pipsissewa flowers often show a blush of pink. Five petals and ten chubby anthers surrounding a plump center pistil make it prettier than most of our other native wintergreens. Pipsissewa and some other native wintergreens form a symbiotic relationship with the mycelium of certain fungi in the soil and are partially parasitic on them through a process called myco-heterotrophy. This means that, even though they photosynthesize, they supplement their diet with nutrients taken from fungi. That explains why they will only grow in certain places, much like native orchids.
Shasta daisies are blooming in gardens everywhere now. The Shasta daisy was developed by plant breeder Luther Burbank over 100 years ago and was named for the white snow of Mount Shasta. These plants are a hybrid cross of the common roadside ox-eye daisy and an English field daisy called Leucanthemum maximum. They are one of the easiest perennials to grow and, other than an occasional weeding, need virtually no care. Dwarf varieties are less apt to have their stems bent over by heavy rains.
My favorite part of the Shasta daisy flower is the spiral at its center, because it makes me wonder. Nature uses the spiral over and over; it’s in a snail’s shell, our galaxy is a spiral and spirals are even in our DNA. Horns, teeth, claws, and plants form spirals. Pine cones and pineapples have spiral scales and if you make a fist and look at it from above, it forms a spiral. Mathematically, the spiral in a nautilus shell is the same as that found in a spiral galaxy. The spiral also represents infinity, starting at a single point and revolving outwardly until the end of the universe. Because of this, the spiral is said by some to be a pathway to the afterlife. All of that is right here in a daisy, and that’s probably why Deepak Chopra said “If you really see a daisy, you see from here to infinity.”
Non-native rabbit’s foot clover (Trifolium arvense) is short enough to be forced to grow right at the edge of the road if it wants to get any sunshine, so the roads look like they have been festooned with fuzzy pink ribbons for a while each summer. It’s an annual plant that grows new from seed each year and the seedlings must be tough, because they don’t seem to mind being occasionally run over, or the poor dry soil found along the road side. In fact they seem to thrive in it; I see more plants each year. The plant is originally from Europe and Asia.
One of the things I like most about native pineapple weed (Matricaria discoidea) is the way a child’s face will light up and break into a smile when they crush it and smell it. Usually when I tell them that it smells like pineapple they don’t believe it, so it’s a surprise. The conical flower heads are easiest to describe by saying they’re like daisies without petals, or ray florets. The flowers are edible and can be used in salads, and the leaves are also scented and have been used to make tea. The plant was used by Native Americans in a tonic to relieve gastrointestinal upset and fevers. The Flathead tribe used the dried, powdered plants to preserve meats and berries. It is said to make a nice pineapple flavored tea.
Last year I showed the flower of a plant I had never seen before and couldn’t identify in the hope that someone would recognize it. Apparently nobody could recognize it by the flower so this year I’m showing the entire plant. The flowers are tiny; about the same size as those on red sandspurry, and blossom on the ends of wiry stems. Its leaves are also small and sword shaped and very hard to see in this photo. This entire plant shown would fit in a tea cup with room to spare.
Here is the pretty little flower of the unknown plant. I find them growing in the sand on roadsides in full sun, much like a sandspurry would. They don’t seem to mind dry soil but they must also like water because I’m seeing more of them in this rainy summer than I ever have. I’ve searched all my wildflower books and online off and on for over a year with no luck, so if you know its name I’d love to hear from you.
NOTE: With a little help from some friends Al Stoops has identified this plant as low baby’s breath (Gypsophila muralis.) It is an annual plant native to Europe and available commercially, sold as cushion baby’s breath. Thanks Al!
Beauty soaks reality as water fills a rag. ~Chet Raymo
Thanks for coming by.
I am so pleased you now have a name for your mystery plant! I would love to live somewhere where flowers abounded and only disappeared with the first frosts! Most of our wild flowers have gone to seed by now or have been mowed. I love the pipsissewa flower! I am also fascinated by the way the Native Americans used the plants that grow in your country.
Thank you Clare, I’m glad to have a name for it too, even though it doesn’t look like any baby’s breath I’ve seen. It’s still fun to discover new plants though and I think I’ve seen about 5 this year that I haven’t seen before.
We literally have flowers everywhere you look right now and are just coming into the most abundant part of the season, with goldenrods, asters, purple loosestrife and many others yet to bloom.
I’m glad you like the pipsissewa flower. They nod towards the ground and are very hard to get a good photo of. I had to try 5 or 6 times to get that one.
I’m also fascinated by the way Native Americans used plants. There are very few that they didn’t have at least one use for. It’s also fascinating to think about how they got there; all by trial and error, and in some cases an error meant death.
That is also something I often wonder about – our plant-lore must have been discovered the same way.
I’d say it would have had to have been. Not a job I’d want!
No fear! 😮
I love the Verbena hastata. I’m trying to grow its close cousin, Verbena stricta. Hoping for flowers next year.
If it’s anything like its cousin it will want lots of water.
I posted the first photo of your mystery plant on the “Native Plants of New England” Facebook page, with a request for ID. I overlooked the second photo, the closeup of the flower, but it looks like they might have nailed it anyway. Check out “low baby’s breath”, Gypsophila muralis.
https://gobotany.newenglandwild.org/species/gypsophila/muralis/
https://www.facebook.com/groups/367054536748975/
Thanks very much Al, that’s definitely it! You’ve ended over a year of searching, and I appreciate it,
I am glad you like the noxious weeds Europe has unwittingly sent you because I like them too. I see a lot of solitary bees on the thistles and knapweed but I would not like to think that they endanger any of your native plants. Amelia
Thank you. These particular thistles don’t seem invasive at all here but in some parts of the country they’re a real pest.
Allen, I just found this Youtube video with Chet. He’s definitely a kindred spirit! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PKi7hwpiNbk
A lovely post, Allen. Seeing Chet Raymo’s quote reminded me that I took a course with him around 1980 when he was a Professor at Stonehill College in Easton, MA. It was an intro to computers. He was a fantastic teacher, and made it so interesting. Because of that course, I decided to attend Sylvania Technical School’s year-long computer course, and then worked at Digital Equipment Corporation in Maynard, MA as a Field Service Technician. It’s amazing how one person can change the course of a life!
Thank you Paula, and thanks for the link. I couldn’t disagree with anything he said. Imagine walking the same path for 40 years! You were lucky to have had him for a teacher. I’ve had people influence my life in the same way.
Wow, you still have a lot of flowers in the landscape! There are very few here now. Perhaps your large amount of rain and our drought causes some of that.
There was an article on one of our news stations this morning about fires. YTD Montana has had 885 fires, 355 of them caused by lightning, the rest by humans. It takes very little to start one when the country is tinder-dry.
Thanks Montucky! We’ll have fields full of flowers almost until we see frosts now.
I’m so glad we’re out of the drought we had last year. I hope you see some rain very soon. That’s a lot of fires!
Your mystery flower reminded me of a pink blue-eyed grass, but I doubt if that’s the right answer. Steve Schwartzman would probably love to help identify the petite beauty!
https://portraitsofwildflowers.wordpress.com/
Thank you. It does look a bit like blue eyed grass but it’s much, much smaller.
You could be right, Steve might recognize it though I don’t know how many New Hampshire flowers grow in Texas.
Hope you find the name of the sweet little flower!
Thank you, I did. A reader identified it as low baby’s breath.
what a great name for a delicate flower! Thanks for the follow up…
we’re presently having several little earthquakes.. hang on nellie!
I hope they stop soon, or if not stay as little as possible!
si;; the people here are still in emotional recovery a year later.. each strong ‘quake’ is difficult for many… hopefully ‘she’ let off her stress and all will be quiet again.. thanks!
You’d think that after all the years I’ve been following your blog that I’d have enough sense to pause and take a closer look at some of small flowers that I see. Heck, it isn’t even just the smaller ones, I think that I’ve been seeing the native pineapple weed in places around here. From the distance that I viewed it from, I thought that it wasn’t blooming yet. Without the florets it looked like buds not opened yet to me. I’ll remedy that this weekend I hope.
I didn’t know that there were more than one species of bladderworts either, now I’ll have to take a closer look at them too. I seldom saw it at the Muskegon Lake Nature Preserve until last summer, when I spotted a few of them. This year, they’re growing in profusion there, but I haven’t been able to get a good photo of one yet. But, that’s mostly because I’m trying to spot birds and don’t have your patience for shooting great photos of the smaller flowers.
Thanks Jerry! Pineapple weed has fooled a lot of people!
There were a lot of these bladderworts growing here too, but they didn’t last long. I went back a week later and every one of them was gone. If you see some you’d better be quick with the shutter button!
Could your tiny flower mystery possible be a grass? I’ve been seeing (though with a hand lens) spectacular tiny grass flowers. Or what I assume is a grass. Don’t know much about the grasses, sedges, or rushes beyond the rhyme (“Sedges have edges, rushes are round, grasses have nodes, willows abound”.) I haven’t found any good books or field guides or even dug in too deep. If anyone has a good resources, I’d love to know!
Thank you Cindy. I can’t say it isn’t a grass but grass flowers in this area are quite different.
Regarding resources, if you look at the top of this blog page you’ll see a tab marked “books I use.” There is a list of all the books that I use under it but there aren’t many guides to grasses out there.
The pipsissewa sure is a beauty!. We had pineapple weed all over our driveway. After you wrote about it last year, I went out and crushed some and it definitely does smell like pineapple. Your mystery flower is also spectacular. I hope someone can help with the name.
Thanks Laura. I’d like to try some pineapple tea made from that plant someday!
I hope someone knows that tiny flower too. It was probably in your driveway with the pineapple weed.
Wha a wonderful variety of flowers you saw and photographed, I particularly enjoyed the monkey flower both its colour and its shape.
Thank you Susan. Maybe someday I’ll find the secret of how to see a monkey in that flower. It’s a pretty little thing.