Is there a gardener out there not enchanted by Trillium? I think not. When their little umbrellas rise from the ground and soon are topped with their tiny flame flowers that flicker in the understories of forests across North America, we know spring is on the way.
I grew up collecting Trillium recurvatum (prairie trillium) from local creeks near our house in Tennessee. And, in the Smokies I relished seeing whole understory hillsides thick with them—Trillium grandiflorum (great white trillium), Trillium luteum (yellow trillium), Trillium catesbaei (bashful wakerobin), and more. In the ignorance of my youth, I would even buy some of these Appalachian species to grow only to see them not thrive in our warmer, drier west Tennessee conditions. Right plant, wrong place. Those early experiences framed their range for me in my mind.
When I moved to Texas, I never dreamed Trillium would be part of the flora, but joining native plant enthusiasts on expeditions quickly opened my eyes to see certain species would grow in warmer climes.
To my delight there are five species that grow here–Trillium recurvatum, Trillium viridescens (green trillium), Trillium texanum (Texas trillium), Trillium ludovicianum (Louisiana trillium), and Trillium gracile (graceful trillium). And, as of this spring I can attest that I have seen them all in their native habitats.
The most common one I have encountered in east Texas is Trillium gracile. John Freeman named it in his paper in 1969. He stated that it had been confused in the past with Trillium ludovicianum, but “the smaller usually dark purple flowers, introrse [inward facing] anthers with creamy yellow pollen, three-angled ovaries [versus six-angled on T. ludovicianum], and relatively short stigmas” help to distinguish it. He noted that the epithet gracile is an homage to the plant’s graceful appearance when compared to other larger forms of Trillium that occur nearby like Trillium ludovicianum and Trillium viridescens.
It has thrived for me in my home garden since I got my first plant 5 years ago. I have it on a north facing slope on sandy soil amongst other eastern forest denizens like Heuchera americana (American coral bell), Sanguinaria canadensis (bloodroot), and Polygonatum biflorum (smooth Solomon’s seal). And, on a cool morning when the light shines through the garden and the little maroon petals glow amongst the other leaves, my soul warms a bit.
I want more, but Trillium are a lesson in patience for plants to increase in number. They are stress-tolerators and may take anywhere from 4 to 7 years to flower from seed. I delight in finding single and three-leaved seedlings in the garden a bit away from the main plants. Their emergence is evidence of ants assisting in dispersing this ephemeral. They love their elaiosomes, fleshy tissue attached to the seed that encourages insects to move them and leave that worthless seed (at least to them) somewhere it can germinate.
Division is another option. My original clump has bulked up quite well, and last year, I was able to divide them as dormant rhizomes in early January with the bleached new shoots just elongating. Then, I transplanted them around the garden into new spots to see where else graceful trillium will grow in our garden. I have learned to be very careful with them as damaging a shoot means that part of the rhizome won’t flower this year. Don’t ask me how I know…
My long term goal is to have one of every species that grows in the southeast, south of say zone 7. It may take a while, but I’m quite patient for the thrill of a trill.