Tall meadow rue flowers (Thalictrum pubescens) always bloom close to the 4th of July and always remind me of “bombs bursting in air.” These are the plant’s male flowers; starbursts of petal-less dark yellow tipped stamens.
I don’t see tall meadow rue in meadows unless the meadow is very wet. I usually find it growing at the edge of streams or in ditches as the example in the above photo was. In fact this one sat just where a ditch met a stream. It was down an embankment, which was a good thing because it often grows 7-8 feet tall and towers over me. Getting above it is usually next to impossible without a ladder. Native Americans are said to have given lethargic horses ground meadow rue leaves and flowers to increase their vigor and to renew their spirit and endurance. In spring the plant’s young leaves fool many into thinking they’ve found wild columbine.
Goat’s beard (Aruncus dioicus) also reminds me of fireworks. This one grows in my garden and also reminds me of the friend who gave it to me several years ago. Hers grew to towering heights but this one usually stays at about three feet.
This beautiful hedge bindweed (Calystegia sepium) blossomed after the rain we finally got last Thursday. It wasn’t enough but it helped. Though for many years all I ever saw were white flowered hedge bindweeds it has gotten to the point where all I see now are these bicolor ones. Bindweeds are perennial and morning glories are annuals and one good way to tell them apart is by their leaves; morning glory (Ipomoea) has heart shaped leaves and bindweed has narrower arrowhead shaped, triangular leaves.
As I was admiring the hedge bindweed blossoms I happened to glance over to where one of our most beautiful wildflowers bloomed. Canada lilies (Lilium canadense) are blooming about two weeks early this year. These plants are sometimes very tall and can tower over a person of average height but this one came only to my chin, and I’m not tall.
The flowers of Canada lilies are as big and as beautiful as the garden lilies I think we’re all familiar with and they come in red and orange as well as yellow. Their habit of nodding towards the ground can make getting a photo difficult, but I (very gently) tilt the stem back with one hand while I take the photos with the other. It’s not the ideal set up but it lets me show you the brownish purple spots on the inside throat of the trumpet and the huge red anthers. Speaking of anthers; many have found out the hard way that the pollen from those and other lily anthers will stain a white tablecloth permanently. The flower buds and roots were gathered and eaten by Native Americans. The scaly bulbs were cooked and eaten with other foods, such as venison and fish. They were also cooked and saved for winter use. They are said to have a very peppery flavor.
The common orange daylily (Hemerocallis fulva) doesn’t have Lilium in its scientific name because daylilies aren’t a true lily. It’s a plant you’ll find growing near old stone cellar holes out in the middle of nowhere and along old New England roads. It is often called the ditch lily, because that’s where it grows. It is also found in cemeteries, often planted beside the oldest graves. It is one of those plants that were passed from neighbor to neighbor and spread quickly because of it. These days it is one of those plants that new homeowners go out and dig up when they can’t afford to buy plants for their gardens. It is both loved for being so easy to grow and hated for being so common.
This plant was introduced into the United States from Asia in the late 1800s as an ornamental and plant breeders have now registered over 40,000 cultivars, all of which have “ditch lily” genes and all of which have the potential to spread just like the original has. If you find yourself doing battle with a particularly weedy daylily, no matter the color, there’s a very good chance that the common orange is one of its parents.
Our native common elderberry bushes (Sambucus nigra canadensis) have just come into bloom and can be seen dotted around the landscape, especially near brooks and streams. Its mounded shape and flattish, off white flower heads make it very easy to identify, even from a distance.
Common elderberry flower clusters look similar to Queen Anne’s lace. Each flower is tiny at only 1/4 inch across, and has 5 white petals or lobes, 5 yellow tipped stamens and 3 very small styles that fall off early after blooming. Each flower will be replaced by a single black (dark purple) drupe. A drupe is a fleshy fruit with a single seed like a peach or cherry. Native Americans dried the fruit for winter use and soaked the berry stems in water to make a black dye for basketry.
If you see a flat topped flower cluster on a native dogwood it’s either a silky dogwood (Cornus amomum) or red osier dogwood (Cornus sericea.) If the flower cluster is slightly mounded it is most likely a gray dogwood (Cornus racemosa,) as is the one in the above photo. All three shrubs bloom at about the same time and have similar leaves and individual white, four petaled flowers in a cluster and it’s very easy to mix them up. Sometimes silky dogwood will have red stems like red osier, which can make dogwood identification even more difficult. Both gray and red osier dogwoods have white berries. Silky Dogwood has berries that start out blue and white and then turn fully blue.
Native dogwoods are also sometimes confused with viburnums, but viburnum flowers have five petals and dogwoods have four. Most of our native dogwoods like soil that is constantly moist and they can be found along the edges of ponds, rivers, and streams.
Common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca) has just started blooming here but I haven’t seen any monarch butterflies in the area yet. I keep hoping they’ll make a comeback and we’ll once again see them in the numbers we did when I was a boy. I’ve only seen a handful each year for the past several years but last year they seemed a little more plentiful.
Several times over the years I’ve meant to write about how complicated milkweed flowers are to pollinate but the process is so complicated the task always ends up in my too hard basket. Instead I’ll just ask that you trust me when I say that it’s nearly a miracle that these flowers get pollinated at all. I’ll enjoy their beauty and their wonderful scent while trusting that nature will see to it that they’re pollinated, just as they have been for millennia.
Native swamp candles (Lysimachia terrestris) are another yellow loosestrife that blooms at about the same time as the whorled loosestrife. Not surprisingly, they like to have their feet wet most of the time and are common along the edges of ponds and wetlands at this time of year. I’ve even seen them growing in standing water. These plants stand about 1-2 feet tall and have a club shaped flower head (raceme) made up of 5 petaled yellow flowers. With darker vegetation behind them swamp candles really live up to their name.
Each yellow petal of a swamp candle flower has two red dots at its base that help form a ring of ten red dots around the five long stamens in the center of the flower. The petals are streaked with red and the flowers are about half the size as those of whorled loosestrife. The red dots on these petals seem to have run a bit and blended together. This is the first time I’ve seen this.
Pretty fringed loosestrife (Lysimachia ciliata) is the last of the native yellow loosestrifes to bloom in this area. It’s also the tallest and biggest flowered of the three yellow loosestrifes we have. 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 usually blooms later. Like the lilies, this year it’s about two weeks early. 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. 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.
Many years ago a friend gave me a piece of her Japanese iris. I don’t know its name but it’s a beautiful thing that is blooming now. It has very big flowers; they must be 2 or 3 times as big as a bearded iris blossom.
Black Swallowwort (Cynanchum louiseae) has purplish-brown to nearly black star shaped flowers that are about 1/4 inch across. They have five-petals and are fragrant, but not in a good way. It has a hard to describe their odor but I’ve seen it described as a rotting fruit odor, which I’m not sure I agree with. I think it’s worse than that; it’s a very sharp, almost acrid odor and on a hot summer day your nose will tell you that you’re near this plant long before you see it.
Black swallowwort is a vining plant native to Europe that twines over native shrubs and plants at the edges of forests and shades or strangles them out. It is believed to have come to North America from Ukraine in the 1800s. Colonies of this plant have been found that covered several acres of land and it is said to be able to completely replace a field of native goldenrod. It is nearly impossible to eradicate from a garden because its roots mingle with those of other plants and if you pull the stem it just breaks off at ground level. In Canada it is called the dog strangling vine and Canadians are testing the use of Hypena opulenta moth caterpillars as a means of biological control. So far they say, the results look promising. The caterpillars come from Ukraine and are a natural enemy of the plant. This plant illustrates the biggest danger of importing plants; the animals and insects that control them are left behind in their native lands, and once they arrive in their new home they are able to grow unchecked.
Two years ago I followed a trail through a swamp and was astonished to see a two foot tall greater purple fringed bog orchid (Platanthera grandiflora) growing right there beside the trail. This year once again I’ve been following its progress off and on for months, watching it grow and produce buds, hoping all the while that nobody would pick it or a deer wouldn’t eat it. Finally it bloomed at exactly the same time it had last year and the year before.
This is easily one of the most beautiful flowers that I’ve seen, and I’ve seen a lot of flowers. It is something I’d happily walk many miles to see because such a sight is so very rare; truly a once in a lifetime find in these parts. It grows in black, very wet swamp mud where for part of the spring there is standing water, so it obviously likes wet feet. I’ve read that the flowers are pollinated by large butterflies and moths, but I’ve never seen an insect near them. I do hope they get pollinated and produce plenty of seeds. The Native American Iroquois tribe actually dug this orchid up for its roots and made tea from them to protect them from ghosts. Ghosts or not, I’d have a very hard time digging up something so beautiful.
My relationship to plants becomes closer and closer. They make me quiet; I like to be in their company. ~Peter Zumthor
Thanks for coming by.
In a post filled with beautiful flowers, the greater purple fringed bog orchid still stands out from all the rest!
That’s an amazing image of the single milkweed flower which shows just how complex the flowers are. To me, there are few things better than being in a field that has quite a few milkweed flowers in bloom along with other wildflowers, just for the scent of the milkweed. I’ve been spending time the past two weeks photographing some of the wildflowers here while enjoying how the milkweed smells, great times.
It’s a curious thing, you mention that monarch butterflies were more widely seen when you were younger, and that you seldom see them now. It’s just the opposite for me, seeing a monarch was something rare when I was a kid looking for a caterpillar to watch metamorphise into an adult. Now, I see them everywhere in large numbers. It may be due to how many farm fields are being left fallow here these days, and that the milkweed plants have more places to grow. I often see two or three at a time, fluttering around as I’m looking for birds or at flowers.
Thanks Jerry! I agree, that orchid is amazing.
I like the scent of milkweed too. It’s a real summery smell. I’m happy to hear that you’re finding time to smell them!
I don’t know what to think about monarchs but I do know that I saw a lot of them when I was a boy and now I don’t, and we have many fields and meadows that are only mowed in late fall and are full of milkweeds. Maybe their migration patterns are changing.
Love the pictures of the tall meadow rue flowers. I’m also fascinated by the structure of milkweed flowers – it really makes them stand out.
Thank you. Milkweed flowers are certainly complicated things but I like seeing and smelling them.
You have featured some really beautiful flowers here, Allen. I am so pleased your greater purple fringed bog orchid flowered again this year! It is such a beautiful plant and a delicate colour too.
I don’t like the look of the purple swallowwort and am glad that work is being done to find something to check it’s progress..
Thank you Clare. I was very happy to see that orchid again! At first I thought it was gone but I was looking in the wrong place. It’s hard to find things when you’re in a swamp.
The swallowwort is interesting but it seems to want to rule the world. It has more seeds than seems possible.
An amateur naturalist’s dream website. Thank you!
You’re welcome!
The greater purple fringed bog orchid is a real find and beautifully photographed but my favourite of the day was the close up of the milkweed. You have great patience.
Thank you. The milkweed wasn’t too bad. It’s huge compared to enchanter’s nightshade, which I’m trying to get a shot of now. That plant can make you crazy.
I look forward to the result.
What beautiful blooms you find to photograph and in such detail too, amazing.
Thank you Susan. We do have some beautiful flowers at this time of year!
And that bog orchid is divine. How big is the cluster of flowers, and does it really need a bog to grow?
The plant is about two feet tall and the flower head is about half that.
Since they grow in standing water for a large part of the year I’d say yes, they need wet to moist soil to grow in.
Hey! If I had great camera lens like yours, my meadow rue would look that splendid too! (smile) That Canada lily is beautiful. since it’s from Canada, why have I not noticed it here? Or perhaps I have and just didn’t know it was a local.
Thank you Cynthia. I’m sure Canada must be full of those lilies and I’d guess they’ll be blooming within the next week or two. I usually find them on the banks of rivers and streams. They usually stand high above the surrounding plants.
Reblogged this on Summer in New Hampshire and commented:
I love the flower descriptions and photos from this blog. Many of these are new to me and it makes me want to get out hiking in more places in NH so I can see these first-hand.
Thanks very much Virginia. I hope you are able to find these plants. Most are quite common in this area.
For the past three years, I’ve been letting the milkweed grow in my and my 97-year-old mother’s gardens. Just yesterday, I saw a monarch butterfly flapping about Mum’s yard. Where there’s one, there may be more … hopefully. 🙂
Thank you Lee. I hope so! As I think about it last year I saw at least one a day for a month or so. I’m hoping I see even more this year!
Wow, New Hampshire is saving the best for the (almost) last! That bog orchid is exquisite! And I love the Goat’s beard! We also have a meadow rue here but it’s a different species and I’ve never seen it bloom like this one is. I’ve only found it in a couple places, both in very remote, high-mountain areas so I can’t visit there too often.
https://polldaddy.com/js/rating/rating.js
Thanks Montucky! There is still a lot more come!
This meadow rue is very common here and I see it everywhere there is water. It’s name is a little off, because I’ve never seen it in a meadow.
I hope you’ll get to see your version this summer.
So much beauty to see! A great consolation.
Thanks Laurie. I hope you’re seeing the same in Maine!
I am, but this heat!
I know!
Wonderful post, Allen! All the flowers seem to be “bursting in air” like fireworks. I especially like the close up photos that show the details of the flowers. I can get lost looking at how a wildflower is put together. I appreciate all your work on this blog. Thanks! Marie 🙂
Thank you Marie. Getting lost in a flower is the most pleasant experience I’ve had.
I hope you and Chris will have more wonderful adventures over the holiday. I look forward to reading about them!
That bog orchid certainly is worth an arduous trek to see. What a beauty.
I don’t often comment, but I enjoy your posts enormously. Reading them is almost like taking a thoughtful meander myself – something that too often is left off any day’s agenda.
Thanks.
Thank you Judy. I hope you’ll find plenty of time this summer to do a little meandering yourself. There’s just no telling what you’ll find out there!
Reblogged this on Poltrack Pix.
Thank you John.