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Posts Tagged ‘Hairy Vetch’

Though I’ve done it for over 60 years it’s still hard to say goodbye to the flowers in the fall. More and more of them seem to be lasting well into October these days though, so the time without them grows shorter. I was very surprised to see this nice stand of goldenrod in mid-month.

Asters too, still bloomed here and there, usually under trees where they are protected from frost. Though most are gone now many made it well toward the end of the month.

I found this New England aster blooming near a stream. It had been cut down sometime during the summer and that made it bushier, with even more flowers.

There’s that little aster, down in the left hand corner, along with goldenrod and yarrow.

Garden asters also bloomed throughout the month. There were light ones…

…and dark ones. I like the darker ones myself.

When I first saw this plant blooming while snow was falling a few years ago I thought it was a Shasta daisy on steroids, but it turned out to be the Montauk daisy (Nipponanthemum nipponicum) which is a Japanese creation also called the Nippon daisy. It is extremely hardy; I’ve seen it bloom after a 28 degree F. night and it is also a very late bloomer. It would be an excellent choice for a fall garden.

Flies certainly love this daisy.

This ox-eye daisy (Leucanthemum vulgare) was a real surprise. It should have gone to be weeks ago. This much loved flower was originally introduced from Europe as an ornamental in the 1800s. It quickly escaped cultivation and has now spread to each of the lower 48 states and most of Canada. Since cattle won’t eat it, it can spread at will through pastures and that means that it is not well loved by ranchers. A vigorous daisy can produce 26,000 seeds per plant and tests have shown that 82% of the buried seeds remained viable after six years underground.

Black eyed Susans (Rudbeckia) closed up shop early this year and most were missing even during the first week of October, but these garden varieties still bloomed.

I went to a spot I know of where hundreds of knapweed plants grow and I saw only about 4 flowers, so I think it’s safe to say that they’re done for this year. I think this is Brown knapweed (Centaurea jacea.) I’ve always thought that knapweed flowers were very beautiful but unfortunately this European plant according to the U.S. Forest Service is a “highly invasive weed that is capable of forming large infestations under favorable conditions.”  The large infestations crowd out native plants including those used for forage on pasture lands, so it is not well liked by ranchers. The brown bracts below the flower are what give the plant its common name.

A few purple morning glories (Ipomoea purpurea) still had their amazing inner light shining from them. They make me wonder, these flowers with their own light. I wonder if all flowers have it and we just don’t see it in all but a very few. I call it the light of creation.

Queen Anne’s lace (Daucus carota) had a good year but their time seems to be just about over now. Though another name for this plant is “wild carrot” you had better know exactly what you’re doing if you dig and eat the root because there are very similar plants like water hemlock (Cicuta maculata) that are among the most toxic plants known.

Common yarrow (Achillea millefolium) has a period of bloom in June through August and then rests for a while before giving it another go.  Mankind has had a relationship with this plant since before recorded history and dried sprigs of it have been found in Neanderthal graves. The ancient Greeks used it on wounds to staunch blood flow and so did Native Americans.

Sweet everlasting (Pseudognaphalium obtusifolium) never looks like a flower until it is gone by and its bracts are all that’s left. The common name comes from the way it lasts for years after being cut and dried. An unusual fact about this plant is how it smells strongly of warm maple syrup. It was and still is used in smoking mixtures by some Native people.

A lone phlox bloomed on the banks of the Ashuelot River. I think it’s probably a garden escapee.

Since I like the color blue so much it’s hard not to like vetch, even though it is invasive and is probably responsible for more than a few gray hairs on this head. Once it gets in a garden it is close to impossible to eradicate by pulling alone, and I know that because I tried many times in many gardens over the years. It’s especially annoying when it gets into shrubs. I think this example might be hairy vetch (Vicia vilosa,) which was originally imported from Europe and Asia to be used as a cover crop and for livestock forage. It’s now found in just about every meadow in New Hampshire.

The monkshood (Aconitum napellus) in a local children’s garden still bloomed. People have died from the sap being absorbed through their skin so this is a very dangerous plant indeed, and though I have touched it several times I would never cut it or pick it without good stout gloves on. Another name for it is winter aconite, so it wasn’t a surprise to see it still blooming.

What bothers me about this particular plant is where it grows. It’s not a good choice for a children’s garden I wouldn’t think. But it all the times I’ve been there I’ve never seen anyone actually working there. The plant gets its common name from the way each flower resembles the hood worn by medieval monks.

This is the first time I’ve ever gotten a photo of the inside of a monkshood blossom. I see what looks like a lot of stamens. Poison or not it’s all about the continuation of the species, just as it is with all plants.

Our native witch hazel (Hamamelis virginiana) starts blooming sometimes as early as mid-September, so seeing it isn’t a great surprise. It’s doing well this year and each plant is loaded with blossoms. 

Witch hazel blossoms are pollinated by owlet moths, which are active in winter and are called winter moths, but this year the moths may have help from several other insects I’ve seen still flying.

Every corny thing that’s said about living with nature – being in harmony with the earth, feeling the cycle of the seasons – happens to be true. Susan Orlean

Thanks for coming by.

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My calendar says autumn begins today, but I’m not ready for it yet. We’ve had freeze warnings for the upper third of the state and two or three frost warnings for the central third but it hasn’t dropped much below 40 degrees here in the southwest corner. For now the late summer flowers are still blooming. Asters are still everywhere even though they started blooming early. The goldenrod blossoms are waning now though.This is a sweet autumn clematis (Clematis paniculata) that I grow on my shed in the back yard. It’s covered with very fragrant, quarter size flowers from now until frost. This is often confused with our native virgin’s bower (Clematis virginiana,) but it’s not the same plant. Sweet autumn clematis grows so fast that this one reached the roof of my shed the first year. Blue vervain (Verbena hastate) is such a perfect blue that I can’t pass it by without taking a picture. This plant loves wet places and is also called swamp verbena.Bouncing bet (Saponaria officinalis) is still hanging on but the dryness over the summer did some damage to these plants. You can see how the plant in the photo died back and then came back to life when the rains returned. This plant is also called soapwort because its leaves contain a natural soap and will produce a lather.The purple coneflowers (Echinacea purpurea ) have also had a hard time because of the dryness and stopped blooming for a while, but then became loaded with blossoms again once the rains returned. The native pink turtlehead  (Chelone obliqua )in my garden bloomed very early this year. It is usually the last plant to bloom but this year it has had to share the stage with phlox, coneflowers and sweet autumn clematis.The blue of Hairy Vetch (Vicia vilosa) is easily seen among the fall colors overtaking the fields.  Hairy vetch is a native of Europe and Asia that has escaped and is now found in just about every meadow in New Hampshire. It was originally imported to be used as a cover crop and for livestock forage.Purple stemmed aster (Symphyotrichum puniceum) flowers are smaller than those of the New England aster and the ray petals often look as if they were glued to the central disk by a kindergartener-sort of but not quite right. If a New England aster was quarter size, these would be nickel size, but identical in color. They have zig aged stems that may or may not always be purple. These plants are also called swamp asters because they like to grow in wet areas. I’m not sure why this sarsaparilla (Aralia nudicaulis) is blooming in September, but I imagine it knows what it’s doing. The question of its being a sarsaparilla is an educated guess because this plant had only naked flower stalks and no leaves, just like it does in May, June, or July when it usually blooms.I had visions of a dry, desert like hillside-where only crabgrass will grow-transformed into an Eden by one of the toughest plants that I know-Russian sage (Perovskia atriplicifolia.) Unfortunately, the Russian sage had other plans and refused to grow where I planted it. I saw a beautiful 4 foot high, gray leaved, shrub like perennial covered with arm loads of scented blue flowers in my mind, but I ended up with a spindly little twig that struggled all summer to produce a couple of sad looking flower spikes, one of which is seen here. It’s clearly time to move it to a more acceptable location and let the crabgrass have the hillside. I hope this puts to rest the rumor that professional gardeners don’t see failures in the garden. Beggar’s Ticks (Bidens) is a plant that teaches patience because it suddenly appears in late July and grows for several weeks before it flowers. There are nearly 200 species in the genus and many of them look nearly identical. In this part of the state this plant grows side by side with the nodding burr marigold (Bidens Cernua,) which is also called smooth beggar’s ticks and looks very similar. The plant gets its common name from the way its barbed seeds cling to clothing. Books say that it reaches 3 1/2 feet tall but I’ve seen some get close to six feet. The one in the photo is more typical of its often sprawling habit. I’ve also seen these plants growing in water at the edge of ponds.All summer long I’ve been trying to get a decent shot of a floating bladderwort flower (Utricularia inflata.) Most of the time they were floating too far off shore, but some of the problem was my over exposures when they were close enough to shoot. Finally everything came together and I was able to get this picture-probably the only decent picture of a floating bladderwort that you’ll see here this year. The inset shows how the plant floats on “pontoons” which are actually swollen, air filled leaf stems.

The love of flowers is really the best teacher of how to grow and understand them ~Max Schling

As always, I appreciate your taking time to stop and see what nature is up to in New Hampshire.

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