In the spring for herbaceous plantings, I look for species that can grow tall fast and offer substance in the upper design layer. It’s quite easy to find candidates in summer and autumn when the plants have used months worth of sunshine to reach for the sky, but in spring it is a bit more of a challenge. Perennials are starting from ground zero, and to achieve any height, they must be using stored energy from last year.
I have waxed long about how Baptisia alba (white wild indigo) is one of my favorites for height in early spring, but I’m always looking for diversity in that upper layer. Enter Arnoglossum plantagineum, or prairie Indian plantain.
I first saw it out in the pastures here in east Texas, rising out of the lowly grasses and forbs. It was pretty easy to see when it was feet taller than the surrounding vegetation. I could see how this plant evolved to quickly rise up and spear its way through the detritus of the last growing season. It is native from Texas up through the plains states into Canada, where interestingly it is endangered. One would think with climate change it is finding new spots to colonize there, but there’s always development with which to contend.
For me it serves as a primary plant, an anchor in the planting that offers multi-season interest. For the first month after emergence, it looks like a Hosta growing in full sun, hence the epithet plantagineum for the resemblance to the plantain family’s leaves. Even Arnoglossum references the foliage. It means lamb’s (arnos) tongue (glossa) in Greek.
The basal rosettes are a rich green and are a bold presence. I’ll have a hint of slug damage here and there, but so far it hasn’t been very detrimental. And, with the recent freeze, I can say they tolerate 26°F for a couple of nights ok, rebounding the next morning.
Then, the center begins to elongate, it’s pinstriped green and red stems grow up and up and up to reach a height of 4-to-5 feet tall within a month. Such an awesome native plant must be stylish in its rise to stardom.
In bud it reminds me of angelica going to seed, but once the flowers open, one might begin to recognize it as a member of the aster family. They appear as small head inflorescences minus the showy ray florets. Overall, I’m amazed because much of this plant looks nothing like an aster, but I suppose since it is such a radiative family, there are a few odd ball cousins.
The stalks will last into the summer until eventually the whole plant fades away. But, not before the dandelion-like seeds take to the air and sow themselves around. Each year, I find early in the spring new little seedlings that have the promise to rise like their parents and one day command the upper echelon of a prairie or planting.