May Wildflowers of Arkansas

My Tennessee family wanted to meet in Little Rock earlier this month to visit for a weekend, and with the semester over, Karen and I made the trek up to Arkansas to see them. After they left, we decided to spend a few days driving around looking at wildflowers in the diamond state.

Arkansas is a floristically rich state. And, since readers responded so positively to my field notes from our excursion with Thomas Rainer last year (part 1 and part 2), I wanted to share some observations from our travels this spring. I love these trips because they help me better understand how plants grow, where they like to grow, and their floral and faunal associations. Visiting wildflowers in situ helps me become a better horticulturist, and I hope that some of the images and notes I share below help you.

Baptisia sphaerocarpa (yellow wild indgo) was in full bloom. Every time we saw it, it was riding that hydric/mesic line whether it be here in a ditch just up from a larger creek as seen here or along the wet edge of a field drain.

I wasn’t the only one enjoying Baptisia sphaerocarpa. It’s the bee’s knees for insects.

If you are an avid reader of the blog, you’ll remember last year where we saw a field of Baptisia sphaerocarpa that was just coming into bloom. We hit it perfectly with this trip. I have never been so mouth agape in my life seeing so many yellow wild indigo in bloom. Again, this field was a wetter spot.

One thing that I’ll add is that about these Arkansas populations of Baptisia sphaerocarpa is the leaves seem a bit greener and less silvery than my Texas progeny. My theory is that Baptisia sphaerocarpa in Texas likely have more drought tolerance traits (like silvery leaves).

We saw other Baptisia in bloom like this Baptisia bracteata var. leucophaea (longbract wild indigo). Most of them had finished flowering, but a handful still remained in bloom. I liked the darker stems and veins on this plant.

And, of course, my beloved Baptisia alba (wild white indigo). These were rarer, and we only saw them twice.

Thistles get a bad wrap, but they are actually one of our best plants for insects. I loved how this Cirsium carolinianum (Carolina thistle) dotted it’s flowers along this forest edge.

Coreopsis grandiflora (large-flowered tickseed) is such a cheerful plant growing on the roadsides, and I have found myself taking it for granted. Besides in these grassy patches, we found it hugging gravelly hillsides.

We saw a few clumps of Oenothera fruticosa (narrow-leaved sundrops), again in edge habitat where they brightened the forest floor. The buds and stems have hints of red.

Driving back roads I noticed from my truck this flushing red Hamamelis virginiana. Many plants have red in the new foliage to help deal with excess sunlight, and I have seen some blushed tinges on Hamamelis but never this rich!

Matelea (milkvines) are funky natives in the southeast. Here the vining Matelea baldwyniana (Baldwyn’s milkvine) flowers look like a cluster of galaxies. It also serves as a host plant for Monarch larvae!

At Chanticleer years ago I admired their use of Silene virginica (fire pink) under trees along the elevated walkway, strategically placed so that one looks at them at eye level. Seeing the plant in glades here in Arkansas, I can see how nature can inspire such garden design.

I’ve written of my love for Hymenopappus in the past, and on this trip I found a nice patch of the frillier-leaved Hymenopappus scabiosaeus (Carolina woollywhite). This native is a good upright ruderal for spring blooms.

It seemed we saw Penstemon arkansanus (Arkansas penstemon) along dry ridges everywhere we drove while Penstemon digitalis (foxglove beardtongue) tended to hug the wetter areas.

Even a fire can’t kill these Heuchera americana (coral bells) growing along a rock cliff. Talk about a tough plant. This species is one gardeners often kill because they give it too much moisture.

Last spring, Monarda russeliana (red-purple beebalm) was just coming into bloom, and for this trip we found many clumps in full flower along forest edge.

After the shady forest, we visited some full sun sites. At this roadside pull off, Echinacea pallida (pale purple coneflower) rises out of a carpet of Valerianella longiflora (long-flower cornsalad).

A close up of Valerianella longiflora flowers. They had this lovely purple-maroon color to the flower tubes. As a ruderal, this species would be a nice filler under taller plants.

The raggedy rays of Echinacea pallida look so dainty and were fun to watch blowing in the breeze. If you look closely, you can see the dissected leaves of Silphium laciniatum (compass plant) starting to rise for their summer blooms.

I was amazed to see the harsh conditions where Echinacea pallida grew. These clumps are growing in cracks in the rock strata!

I loved this roadside vista of Echinacea pallida, Delphinium carolinianum (Carolina larkspur), and Coreopsis grandiflora. It had this mountain glade/alpine feel.

This trip was first time seeing Parthenium integrifolium (wild quinine) in the wild! Here it grew in a large clump along the tree line just up from the Echinacea pallida. I remember fondly seeing it at the Lurie Garden years ago and was curious what its native habitat was. This plant has been used by native Americans for many ethnobotany purposes and supposedly as recently as World War I as a quinine substitute for malaria.

A close-up of the button flowers of Parthenium integrifolium. They also make good cut flowers.

Nemophila phacelioides (Texas baby blue eyes) was in full bloom. We kept seeing it growing in people’s front yards underneath shrubs and along edge habitat. As a ruderal, it seems to fill the same niche that bluebonnets do here in Texas, though in wetter spots.

We returned to one of the sites where we found Amsonia hubrichtii (Arkansas bluestar) last spring. Plants were in full bloom and thriving right alongside this waterway. Last year, we visited six Amsonia hubrichtii sites, and all were located next to water. My theory is that the seeds are dispersed in waterways, but as many of you know, the plant is quite adaptable for drier sites.

At one rocky site, we found Amorpha fruticosa (false indigo) growing out of the rocks, illustrating it’s durability. However, nearer water’s edge in the scourge habitat it was an aggressive colonizing thug! Again, it amazes me how habitat influences growth.

And, I was delighted to find Streptanthus maculatus (clasping jewelflower) for the first time in the wild. Kind of funny that I grew this uncommon wildflower before I saw this in situ. It, too, was growing on this rocky ledge.

On our last day, we stopped to visit the site where I found Echinacea pallida in the past. A glimmer of purple caught my eye, and after a u-turn I was ecstatic to see Asclepias purpurascens (purple milkweed) in the wild for the first time! There was a healthy colony of several plants blooming.

A close up of the purple puff ball known as Asclepias purpurascens

I thought it was so neat how the Asclepias purpurascens flowers open from one side to the other. Many individuals exhibited this pattern.

And, last I wanted to share with you this neat two-sided painting we saw near the front of someone’s driveway. The blue sky version was on the north side, and the sunset was facing south. It definitely gave me some ideas about integrating art into the outdoors. And, with all the beauty of the region, sometimes you just have to paint a picture (or snap a photo).

Searching for Amsonia in Arkansas, Part 1

It all started with a text message back in February.  My friend and colleague Thomas Rainer was reaching out to ask if I had ever been plant exploring in Arkansas.  He was keen to see Amsonia hubrichtii in the wild.  

So, who is Thomas Rainer, and what plant is worth traveling from Washington, DC for him—or Nacogdoches, TX for me—just to see in the wild? Thomas is no stranger to the plant world. He and his coauthor Claudia West had helped galvanize the naturalistic planting movement with their book Planting in a Post-wild World. Now, they are business partners and integrate horticulture and ecology into their designs at Phyto Studio.

And, for the plant, Amsonia hubrichtii (Arkansas bluestar, thread-leaf bluestar, Hubricht’s bluestar) is beloved in the horticulture industry for its starry blue flowers that appear on top of the softest textured plant ever.  Seriously, I just want to hug the feathery round-mound anytime I see it. And, then in the fall the foliage turns a brilliant caramel yellow. This species grows well in practically any garden situation minus deep shade or a flooded pond. And, while it thrives in many parts of the eastern half of the country, Arkansas bluestar is native to only 20 or so counties in Oklahoma and Arkansas.

Thomas wasn’t alone in wondering about this species. Amsonia hubrichtii had been on my mind this past year. I had been struggling with Arkansas bluestar here in Texas. In conversations with others here in the lone star state, the bluestar didn’t seem to quite like something. I know we are hotter than the Lurie Garden in Chicago, IL where it is massed and the John W. Nason texture garden at The Scott Arboretum in Swarthmore, PA where it provides soft billowy edge to paths. But, are we really that much hotter than Arkansas?  I lacked the in situ knowledge, of seeing where it grew in the wild, and I suspected there was more to the situation. 

So, we started planning a trip to see where Amsonia hubrichtii grew.  I reached out to local plant enthusiast Eric Hunt. He is a member of the Arkansas Native Plant Society who I had conversed with on social media in the past about Arkansas flora. He had photos on Flickr of Amsonia hubrichtii blooming wild in the Ouachita mountains. We decided that late April into early May would likely be the best time to see Arkansas bluestar in flower, and we picked a weekend that best fit our schedules.  

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We met Eric mid-afternoon at Middle Fork Barrens Natural Site near Hot Springs, Arkansas.  He was chipper to see us and show us around.  In talking with Eric, we learned that he had moved around the country from Alabama to California, and finally ended up in Arkansas.  He worked on computer systems, and on the side he enjoyed botanical expeditions and plant photography.  

We approached the area from the south, walking one of those gravel roads that when a giant yellow school bus comes barreling by and picks up a cloud of dust, you are thankful there’s a stiff breeze blowing it away. Eric started talking to us about Middle Fork Barrens. He said botanists had known about the barrens for years, but it had only been recognized as a natural area since 2004.

As we walked, he began identifying our inquiries. An aster dotted the ground, and he shared that the barrens were one of the more eastern sites for the spring flowering Astranthium ciliatum (Comanche western-daisy).  And, Valerianella nuttallii (Nuttall’s cornsalad) was everywhere as a nice dusting of white over the carpet of green.  

Walking in we also saw our first of many Baptisia bracteata var. leucophaea (cream wild indigo), which occurred more often in shadier sites than I expected.  I have seen the other variety Baptisia bracteata var. bracteata (long-bract wild indigo) near where we live in east Texas, and it was nice to compare it against this lighter yellow form with more upright flowers.  

A close up of Valerianella nuttallii

You can really see how nice the white haze of Valerianella nuttallii scattered throughout the barren was. It was pretty much everywhere.

A close up of Astranthium ciliatum

I loved this alpine meadow feel of this combination of Astranthium ciliatum and Valerianella nuttallii

The off white flowers of Baptisia bracteata var. leucophaea

We reached the main entrance to the barren guarded by a fence and gate and made our way through a narrow opening on the side. Eric made a point to show us a borrow pit where locals had harvested stone in the past for various projects. It was here where a new to science Phemeranthus (fameflower) grew.  Thomas commented on how this habitat created by humans made it possible for a species to grow where it might not have previously as the area around was covered in vegetation. This thinking can be applied to urban sites. We humans can have positive effects on creating habitat for unique species to grow.

You can still make out where vehicles used to drive to take stone from this borrow pit. If you squint, you can barely make out hints of pink in the center. That’s the Phemeranthus in bloom.

For those of you who don’t like to squint, here’s a close up of the new Phemeranthus species. Eric said that it had been lumped in with another species, but upon closer study, scientists realized it deserved being named as a new one.

We then climbed up through a lightly forested hillside to approach the Amsonia site on the other side of the ridge.  Eric commented about how these shale barrens existed due to the soil being more shallow, and thus trees couldn’t grow, thus creating a “barren.” These type of barrens are different from others in the southeast like serpentine barrens where the soil has toxic levels of nutrients that prevent tree growth.  Eric made a comment that while everything around us was green now, the barrens baked in the summer time.  

As we walked up to the top of the ridge we passed Glandularia canadensis (rose vervain) and a new to me shade preferring Monarda species, Monarda russeliana (redpurple beebalm).  Down the other side we passed a large colony of Symphoricarpos orbiculatus (coralberry). We emerged from the thicket and in front of us was an open valley, punctuated by a thin stream that ran through the middle.  Eric teased that we were almost to the Amsonia.  

We pause for a quick group shot.

We approached the stream where bold leaves of Arnoglossum plantagineum (prairie Indian plantain) grew amongst the matrix of green.  And, rounding a copse we found the Amsonia in bloom.  

This part of the barren had a Rocky mountain feel to it.

GASP! Here it is! The blue flowers of Amsonia hubrichtii (Arkansas bluestar) were just beginning to open. You can see the duff-colored stems left from last year.

In the lower left of this image you can make out a half dozen Amsonia hubrichtii growing in the creek or on the edge (look for the twiggy duff-colored stems scattered amongst the green like you see in the previous photo). But, that’s really it for its distribution on either side of the stream.

I stood there for a bit just looking at the thirty or so plants that were up and down this short section of the stream. Plants were either right on the edge of the water or a few feet away, and we didn’t see any other Arkansas bluestar anywhere else at Middle Fork Barrens Natural Site. So, why? Why hug the creek edge when Amsonia thrives in a variety of sites in the garden? In cultivated environs, I would rank Amsonia hubrichtii more of a generalist, but here we saw a specialist at this site, a species that had a limited set of requirements for survival. How in the world it was ever thought that some scraggly thing growing alongside a creek could have so much horticulture potential, eventually being voted the 2011 Perennial Plant of the Year, beats me.

Eric made the comment this site baked as well in the heat of summer and these streams often dry up. He noted how Amsonia hubrichtii had thick, long deep taproots to help deal with drought, a trait I knew well from relocating my plant in Tennessee to Texas years ago. Perhaps that was the case. The waterway in the wild is where Amsonia can survive. To me, the thread-like foliage and round-mound shape were also indicative of adaptations for drought. Eric also said that for a species that evolved to grow near waterways that the thin foliage wouldn’t shred as bad in flash floods, as we could tell had happened from the slight down creek bend of the dead bluestar stems from last year. He added that one can also find Vernonia lettermannii (thread-leaf ironweed) with similar thread-like foliage in similar creekside habitat with Amsonia hubrichtii.

Eric offered to show us more of the natural area, and we gladly accepted.  As we walked further north out of the barren, the habitat began to feel more like the eastern forests I knew so well.  We saw Delphinium tricorne (dwarf larkspur), Polemonium reptans (Jacob’s ladder), Cynoglossum/ Andersonglossum virginianum (wild comfrey, although we have that in east Texas, too).  A new one to me was Tradescantia ernestiana (woodland spiderwort), which has nice thick straps of verdant foliage. Eric said that it was a clump former and didn’t spread like other spiderworts. And, of course, jokes about Ernest P. Worell and Vern ensued.

Andersonglossum virginianum graced our path through the woods.

The last time I saw Delphinium tricorne was on the Blue Ridge Parkway many years ago. It was nice to see it again here in Arkansas.

Seeing Polemonium reptans made me think back to my friend Jimmy Williams’s garden in Paris, TN where I first learned this species.

See, Vern?! Tradescantia ernestiana is a great plant for shade. I loved the green, thick leaves.

We arrived at the middle fork that gave the barrens its namesake. Thomas began discussing the river scour habitat, areas where rivers would erode during flood events. We talked how these events could create habitats where trees and shrubs could find purchase while the herbaceous plant palette could be more variable. To my surprise I saw Rudbeckia laciniata (cut-leaf coneflower).  I sold ‘Herbstsonne’ at the nursery years ago, but I had never seen the species in the wild.  

Eric and Thomas investigate plants growing in the river scour habitat.

Rudbeckia laciniata was one of the species in the river scour habitat.

From here we started back toward the cars. As we walked along, Thomas called out, “Oh, there’s Silene!” Sure enough in the dappled shade, we found the red star-shaped flowers of Silene virginica (fire pink). This habitat was different from the usual vertical Appalachian cliffs from which I had seen Silene growing, and them being scattered along the forest floor reminded me of the mass planting along the elevated walkway at Chanticleer. We discussed how some species like Silene regia had been investigated for being carnivorous. Eric commented how in thousands of years this species could be, too. All it needs is to develop a way for attracting insects to the plant and to make enzymes to break them down for uptake.

Silene virginica glows in the late afternoon light.

We returned to our vehicles, and thanked Eric profusely. It was a grand day for seeing not only Amsonia, but many other incredible species in such a wild and rugged environment. Next week, I’ll be back with part 2 of our journey to see Amsonia hubrichtii in Arkansas.

One last look at the Middle Fork Barrens Natural Area. What a fun place to explore the wilds of Arkansas!