Pineapple Lily

Pineapple Lily (Eucomis comosa) is not a fruit, but a perennial bulb related to asparagus. Tiny buds are packed along a vertical stem, similar to Liatris. An active imagination might conjure this into a skinny pineapple, hence the common name. Eucomis (pronounced yoo-CO-miss or YOO-co-miss) are perennial in zones 7b through 10a. They bloom best in full sun but will tolerate partial shade. They want a well-drained soil with plenty of organic matter and thrive with generous irrigation, although they will survive limited drought. Wet or boggy soils will result in root rot.

Pineapple Lily flowers attract bees and butterflies. Flowers are available in  ivory, pink, or lavender shades, often flecked with either green, burgundy or ivory. The long thick leaves emerge at ground level and resemble amaryllis or crinum. The blooms start opening at the bottom and work their way to the top, over a long bloom period of eight weeks or so. ‘Sparkling Burgundy’ is a widely available cultivar. It has lavender flowers on a purple stem and the leaves have a wine tint also. ‘Freckles’ has reddish flowers. There is a cultivar with yellow/green flowers and foliage, but I have not found it in local nurseries.

The narrow, upright growth form means this plant can be sited in tight spaces where many other flowers would not fit. A mature clump will reach two feet tall with a spread between one and two feet. They look spectacular when planted in large drifts. Pineapple Lilies also perform well in containers, but I recommend that you keep them away from nose-level. They are pollinated by flies, so it is not a surprise that some of them smell rank. Bulbs in the ground should be somewhat deep (4-5 inches) but those in containers should be just under soil surface. A winter mulch helps ensure their longevity.

A group of Eucomis

Joe Pye and his Weed

American folklore tells us that a Native American Indian medicine man from Massachusetts named Joe Pye created an herbal treatment for typhoid fever using the leaves of a native plant. Today we know the plant as “Joe Pye Weed.” I don’t know if this is truth or legend, but Joe Pye Weed is a great fall flower.

Once classified as Eupatorium, these herbaceous perennials were renamed into the Eutrochium genus in the year 2000. There are five different species within the genus, but I hereby give you permission to refer to them all as Joe Pye Weeds.

These North American natives are tough. Their preferred growing site is in full sun with damp soil. They thrive in roadside ditches, especially along our southeastern mountain roads.  Under less favorable conditions, the plant height is reduced. This can be a good thing, since they can grow to 8 feet or more in a perfect cultural situation. There are also some dwarf cultivars (‘Gateway,’ ‘Baby Joe’ and ‘Little Joe’) that are easier to include in home plant designs than their taller cousins.

The dusty rose-pink flowers are a favorite of butterflies and bees. They are cold-hardy in zones 4 to 8. Plants can be cut back by half in late May to produce a shorter, bushier plant with more blooms. In winter, cut them off at ground level after the top growth is freeze-killed. You can encourage spread by cutting the dead flowers off and scattering the seeds. You can also divide in fall, but the coarse fibrous root balls take a sharp blade and some energy to separate. Replant divisions immediately, water and mulch.

Joe Pyes are a bit exuberant for tight formal beds, but look fabulous when planted with other fall-flowering plants like goldenrods, asters, some iron weeds, Mexican salvia, and tall sedums. Deer have not browsed those in the Mary Snoddy garden – yet.

Butterflies flock to the blooms of Joe Pye Weed

These Joe Pyes were planted the year before, in wet soil and full sun.

Lucky Buckeye

Another Christmas season is in the books. When I was a young child, I was enthralled by the concept of “chestnuts roasting on an open fire.” I nagged my long-suffering mother into purchasing a bag of these nuts and cooking them in our fireplace. That statement is remarkable for two reasons. First, we didn’t have chestnut trees on any family property, so she had no experience with the nuts. Mom was never eager to try anything new. Second, I can count on one hand (truthfully, two fingers) the number of fires kindled in our family fireplace during my childhood. Our house was built in the 1940’s and the tiny firebox was designed for coal-burning, not wood. As a consequence, a log fire billowed smoke into the house interior, stainining walls and incurring the wrath of the matriarch/housekeeper.

Smoke fiasco aside, our carol-induced experiment took a bad turn when the nuts heated up. We did not know that we should have cut a slit in the hulls to allow for the escape of steam. Mom learned that an exploding chestnut makes a sound not unlike a pistol shot. The detonated nuts flew across the room, leaving trails of scalding hot innards. She attempted to remove the remaining nuts from the fire’s edge before they blew, with limited success. I learned a few new words that day. Even as a six year-old, I knew better than to laugh at a frazzled mother dotted with sizzling nut guts. Oddly enough, she was mad at crooner Nat King Cole and not me.

Decades have passed. I have learned that, despite the similarity in seed appearance, the chestnut and the buckeye are markedly different. Chestnuts are edible. Buckeyes are not.  Ingesting a buckeye can cause kidney failure. Chestnuts are encased in prickly husks that remind one of Oscar The Grouch. Buckeyes are encased in spineless, lobed seed pods that look a little like a misshapen fuzzy brown kiwi.

The subject of today’s blog is the Red Buckeye, Aesculus pavia, pronounced ESS-kew-lus PAH-ve-ah. This deciduous tree is native to the southeastern US. Its short stature (10 to 20 feet) and clump-forming habit leads the gardener to treat it as a large shrub. It is one of the first trees to leaf out in the spring and one of the first to shed leaves in the fall. Beautiful red bloom panicles up to six inches long are borne at the ends of the branches in early spring. The nectar-rich flowers are irresistible to hummingbirds and butterflies, and are ranked among the top ten hummingbird plants for South Carolina.

Trees prefer moist but well-drained soil. They function best in an understory role with dappled shade, since the tender leaves scorch in full sun. The crown will open up a bit in denser shade. They do not tolerate severe drought, but will die in a waterlogged soil.

The seed pods open to release mature nuts in September to October. It is possible to start Red Buckeye from seed, but you’ll need to work fast to beat the squirrels. The seeds degrade quickly once shed, so should be planted as soon as they are gathered. Seeds require three months of cold, moist stratification to germinate. This can be accomplished by refrigerating seeds in a bag of damp sphagnum moss before planting them in the ground or in a nursery container. The easier method is to place seeds in a porous potting mix outdoors through the winter, allowing Mother Nature to do the chilling and watering. If you take the latter route, use protection (wire mesh) to prevent squirrels from unearthing the nuts. The potting mix must be free-draining or seeds will rot. Seedlings grow quickly and can flower in two to three years.

Carrying a buckeye in the pocket is supposed to bring good luck. Just don’t eat it.

Photo courtesy of Josh Williams, from the Clemson Extension Home Garden Information Center. See Bulletin 1031 for information and photos of Red Buckeye and all its relatives.

https://hgic.clemson.edu/factsheet/buckeyes-horsechestnuts/

Red buckeye, ready to drop from its seed capsule.