Sage Smudging: Science or Silly?

We did not host guests this Thanksgiving, so there was no roast turkey at the Snoddy place, hence no need for harvesting sage to flavor the traditional dressing (or stuffing) accompaniment.

Today, a quick peek into my herb garden revealed a beautiful sage plant. Its good condition was a surprise, since I plunked it into a corner of a raised bed in spring and promptly forgot it.

My past use of culinary sage has been limited to the Thanksgiving meal. It was planted as a deterrent to marauding deer and rabbits. I decided to search the internet for other uses. What an eye opener! I was unfamiliar with “sage smudging,” and what I learned was fascinating. Smudging, simply put, is the burning of plant material to produce smoke and aroma.

Burning sage was practiced by Native Americans (and perhaps Ancient Greeks, Egyptians, and Romans). The intent (varies by source) was either a spiritual ritual, a purification practice, a healing rite, an attempt to rid spaces of insects, or to “dispense negative energy.”

There are two main types of sage used in smudging, White Sage (Artemesia) or Culinary Sage (Salvia officinalis). Other plants used for smudging include cedar, rosemary, and lavender. The internet has several prayers or incantations for use as part of smudging rituals. Some sites had very specific instructions. According to one, “Use a match to light it at the bottom. You never want to blow on it, because that is blowing your spirit away.” Other sites discourage smudging by non-Native Americans, labeling the practice as cultural appropriation. One source gave instructions on the inclusion of sage smudging as a part of marriage ceremonies.

So, is there any proven science behind smudging? More than 30% of Americans use medicines or practices that fall outside standard pharmacological standards. WebMd.com was non-committal: “While sage burning might offer a kind of metaphysical or spiritual cleansing, its medical virtues haven't been well-studied. Very little research has been done on burning sage in general, and there isn't much evidence to confirm what it might do for your health.”

While the activity is not widespread, there are YouTube videos on how to smudge properly. And any time you can purchase Sage Smudge Sticks on Amazon, it is safe to assume that is moving from esoteric to known.

Here is a piece of wisdom. Let the curious beware. After my research into the practice of smudging, I got plenty of popups on other sites and advertisements related to holistic healing, acupuncture, mysticism, even a few links which appeared to have some connection to witches.

Culinary Sage or Common Sage, Salvia officinalis, is a woody sub-shrub native to the Mediterranean. It has soft gray, narrow leaves that resemble a greener version of Lambs Ears. ‘Berggarten’ is a cultivar with wider leaves. Bees and butterflies love sage’s spikes of tiny lavender, blue, or pinkish flowers. Plants are grown from seeds, cuttings, or division. They are perennial in zones 4-8. Grow sage in full sun and well-draining soil. Plants are deer and rabbit resistant.

This happy sage plant is hanging out with neighboring oregano and cattnip.

Turkey Tail Fungus

November is a perfect time to talk about turkey tail fungus, Trametes versicolor. (“Versicolor” means “many colors.”) Turkey tail is common, found growing on hardwood stumps and downed logs across North America. It is pretty, with bands of muted colors that resemble an expanded, look-at-me turkey’s tail. Unlike many fungi, the turkey tail is tough, with a texture more like leather than your garden-variety, tender mushroom. It grows in damp, shady areas.

Turkey tail typically grows on dead wood or bark, so if you spot it growing in your garden, take it as a message that the host tree is unhealthy. This may be the only warning message you receive before stormy weather takes the tree to ground. Turkey tail feeds on the lignin and cellulose in dead wood, but the rate of lignin consumption is faster than the cellulose consumption. As a result, a community of the fungus may engender stringy white rot. (A fungus which consumes cellulose faster than lignin will produce a reddish rot.)

Communities of the fungus can be large – the one shown in the accompanying photo spread eight feet on a downed tree trunk. The host is located a few feet away from a creek and is under the shade of tall trees. A nearby trunk also hosted the fungus, but it was several weeks older and the warm colors had faded to several shades of gray. Young specimens can have bands of pink, rose, gold or blue. These fungi can be found year-round, but are most often seen in the fall.

False turkey tail (Stereum ostrea) has color bands similar to the true turkey tail fungus, but it has a smooth underside, while the true version has a rough underside.

Turkey tail is both attractive and useful, as it breaks down fallen trees and helps keep the forest floor cleared of limb litter. It is not considered edible by humans — not toxic, but not tasty.

Wishing all my readers a happy Thanksgiving. We have so many reasons to feel grateful!

A colony of Turkey Tail on a fallen tree.

Turkey tail, with my hand shown to show scale.

Pokeweed: Friend or Foe?

Whether you call it Poke Salet, Poke Salad, Pokeberry or Polk Salad, if you grew up in the south, you probably know the lush green leaves and shiny purple berry clusters of Phytolacca americana.

It is either a weed or a feature plant, depending upon your outlook. In early spring, Phytolacca (pronounced fy-toh-LAK-uh) leaves emerge, their bright green marking a sharp contrast to surrounding shades of gray and brown. It is in these early, tender stages that some people consider the leaves to be edible, with a few caveats. The leaves contain toxic compounds that are removed through placing them in boiling water for a few minutes, then discarding the water. This blanch-and-repeat cycle is performed two or three times to remove the bad stuff, after which it bears some resemblance to cooked spinach.

My mother would harvest spring young leaves and serve them occasionally, topped with diced onion, chopped boiled egg, and a sprinkle of bacon. I never ate them because (1) hey, it was green, and (2) anything that required such effort to disguise the flavor must have been nasty-tasting. When I grew older and learned of its poisonous nature, I accused her of trying to kill us all, a charge she never denied.

Clusters of pokeweed’s unimpressive spring flowers turn into bright green berries which mature into deep purple fruit. The shiny fruit contrasts with the plant’s red stems, a pretty combination. The affection Mother lavished on this native wonder in spring turned to disgust in autumn when birds ate the ripe fruit and decorated cars, walkways and laundry on the clothesline. Birds love the berries and are unaffected by the poison therein. Unfortunately, birds spread those seeds around, so many consider pokeweed to be invasive.

Several years ago, an excellent nursery in North Carolina offered a variegated Phytolacca as well as a chartreuse yellow type. I was tempted, but my husband scoffed at the idea of purchasing a weed, variegated or not. His opinion must have been widely held, because the plant is no longer offered.

Pokeweed grows six to ten feet tall, in sun to part shade. It looks best if it is pinched back several times when small, to produce a denser, branched plant. It is a herbaceous perennial with a fat taproot that allows it to withstand drought and thrive in almost any soil.

Tony Joe White, a Louisiana native, wrote and performed “Polk Salad Annie,” a song made famous by Elvis Pressley. YouTube’s on-screen text during Tony Joe White’s 1970 live UK performance says, “Polk salad is eaten by poor rural communities in the Deep South.” Despite being a hard-rock fan from birth, I loved the twangy song and as a child, I would always chime in on the chomp-chomp portion.

Partial lyrics:

…Every day before suppertime,
she’d go down by the truck patch 
And pick her a mess of polk salad,
and carry it home in a tow sack.
Polk Salad Annie,
the gators got your granny,
chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp…

(Fun fact: Louisiana is home to more than 2 million alligators.)

Ripe fruit is a shiny purple. Photo by Goran Horvat from Pixabay

Unripened pokeweed berries. Photo by Jan Haerer from Pixabay

Big, tough pokeweed tubers resist removal.

One of my gardener friends grew pokeweed in a container.

Garden Pause - Plan a Holiday Cookie Swap

Temperatures are dropping, rain is falling, and Christmas décor is overflowing retail store shelves. When gardening chores are slowing down, it is a perfect time to plan a holiday cookie swap. Here are my recommended steps for a successful swap, based on personal experience.

Select a date and time. The choice between daytime or night and between weekday or weekend will dictate your choice of invitees. I prefer to host holiday cookie swaps in late November or very early December. This helps avoid conflicts with Christmas parties and allows guests to enjoy goodies before the inevitable sweet-fatigue that sets in after a few dozen gatherings. By January, most of us do not want to see decorated sugar cookies, no matter how pretty they are.

Develop the guest list. In my opinion, the ideal group size is fifteen or fewer. Since each participant will be asked to bring two or three cookies per guest, a larger group size requires more kitchen time than some people want to commit. I once attended a too-large swap. By the time I finished mixing, rolling, cutting, baking and decorating gingerbread men for 35 people, I (illogically) hated the hostess and each of the guests.

Invitations can be written (check online for cute invites) or emailed, but should spell out specific instructions. Here is the language from my last swap invite:

• Please seal your cookies in zip bags, one large cookie or a couple of small cookies per bag. The number of bags needed will be provided once all invitees have confirmed their attendance.

• Clearly mark any cookies with nuts (for our friends with food allergies).

• Homemade cookies are preferred. You can bring cookies from the bakery, but we will talk about you behind your back.

• Please provide a yes or no response by [date].

• If you have extra cookies, feel free to bring them along to share as refreshments.

• Non-cookie snacks and beverages will be provided.

• Casual holiday attire is preferred.

Prepare the swap site and a container for each confirmed attendee. Ideally, swap containers will be in a different room or on a different table than refreshments for the event. Prepare a container for each guest to take home. I like the “shoebox” containers available in red, green, or clear in many dollar-type stores, but holiday tins work well too. Clearly label each guest’s container with a large-lettered card, “These cookies go home with [name].”

Provide hot and cold beverages. Cocoa, coffee, tea, sodas, and water are good for daytime events. For night time, add alcoholic choices like sangria or punch. Provide non-sweet refreshments. Fresh fruit and savory treats like crudites, cheese and crackers, or a hot seafood dip make a nice contrast from all the sweets.

A couple of optional items: You can ask each guest to identify which cookies they brought. You can also ask that they bring printed copies of their recipe, so guests can duplicate their favorites. To prevent no-shows, send a reminder email or text to each confirmed attendee two days before the event.

If invitees ask for recipe recommendations, steer them away from soft icings and towards firmer cookies like shortbread, brownies, turtles, snickerdoodles, or gingerbread men.

Decorate the swap container table with colorful linens, fresh flowers, fragrant greenery. Have plenty of zip bags available for guests who ignore the instructions. Crank up the holiday tunes and enjoy a fun event!

This gingerbread man looks a little startled at his future. A sandwich-size zip bag is the perfect means of keeping cookies fresh.

A sample invitation from a past cookie swap, with 14 participants. Each person brings 13 cookies, since they will not give themselves a treat.

This is the “swap” table, with a container for each guest to take home.

Lovely Loropetalum, Chinese Fringe Flower

Amidst all the warm colors of autumn leaves, the deep burgundy or wine-colored foliage of Loropetalum provides a wonderful contrast.

When Loropetalum became widespread in garden centers in the late 1980’s, their deep burgundy foliage and hot pink flowers immediately became popular. White flowered, green-leaf varieties exist, as do variegated leaf cultivars, but neither are as widely grown as the burgundy-leaf forms. Unfortunately, many of the early introductions grew much larger than their labeled mature heights. Warm nights and the long growing season of the southeast result in taller-than-anticipated shrubs. When used as foundation shrubs, these early introductions required aggressive pruning to restrict size. Several cultivars that were labeled at a three-foot maximum height grew five feet or taller. (If I sold you one of these during my sales stint in a garden nursery, please accept my apology. It was a mistake through ignorance, not malice.)

Shearing Loropetalum into tight orbs or square-edged hedges ruins the graceful arching shape. Taller cultivars (‘Zhuzhou Fuchsia’ is a robust one) can be limbed up to tree forms that rival Crape Myrtles, without the concrete-staining problems of Crape Myrtle seed-pods but also without the lovely exfoliating bark of the Myrtles.

Burgundy-leaf types can take on green tints in the hottest part of the summer. ‘Jazz Hands’ is a cultivar with variegated foliage. New growth is splashed with pink and white. With age, foliage shows less and less variegation, so plan to prune annually to force colorful new growth. The variegation shows best when seen up close, so site your specimens where they can strut their individuality.

Evergreen Loropetalum (pronounced lor-oh-PET-ah-lum) is hardy in zones 7-9. It is heat tolerant, easily transplanted, and not choosy as to soil type, although it may show chlorosis in alkaline soil. Avoid boggy soils. Established shrubs are drought tolerant. They are rarely browsed by deer.

Heaviest bloom occurs in spring, but flowers appear sporadically during other months. Similar to Witchhazel, Loropetalum flowers have strap-like petals that give rise to the common name Fringe Flower. All forms bloom on old growth, so if you trim to generate fresh variegation, be aware that flowering will be reduced.

Check plant labels before purchase to ensure the selected cultivar will suit the planned location. If your site is tight, assume shrubs may exceed the stated dimensions.

Strap-like flower petals look like tufts of fringe, leading to the common name Fringe Flower.

Unpruned shrubs have a lovely, arching stem structure.

Spirea, One Tough Shrub

Spirea (pronounce spy-REE-ah) is a tough-as-nails, fast-growing deciduous shrub. The garden of my childhood home had two varieties, one with flat-topped clusters of rose-pink flowers in summer and the other with long, arching branches dotted with clusters of white blooms along their length in early spring. The latter was identified by my mother as Van Hootie. I now know that it was not Spirea vanhouttei, but was actually S. prunifolia, commonly called Bridal Wreath Spirea.

There are numerous (40+) species within the Spirea genus, but all are hardy in zones 5-8 (at least), prefer full sun, and are tolerant of all soil types. Newer cultivars have been introduced with brightly colored foliage. ‘Goldflame’ and ‘Limemound’ make good specimens or foundation shrubs, with eye-catching yellow or chartreuse foliage on a smaller stature plant (3 feet or less). I am especially partial to a recent Proven Winner gem, Double Play® Candy Corn® Spirea. In early spring, new growth emerges red, then changes to yellow. After the change to yellow, new growth emerges orange. It is not uncommon to see all three leaf colors at the same time, and when the rosy-purple flowers appear – Oh My! It is like Mother Nature has given us a terrestrial rainbow.

Spireas bloom on new growth, so prune in winter to increase spring flowers. Those flowers attract butterflies by the score, and deer usually leave them alone.

Garden Trends and New Plants for 2023

I have given myself permission to be a bit lazy with this blog as I recover from a heart procedure earlier this week. (No hiking through the woods to discover new plants/insects/fungi.) Instead, I want to share some of what I learned about trends at last week’s Fall 2022 GardenComm (formerly Garden Writers of America) conference.

First, the craze for dark-foliage plants (Chocolate Mimosa (Albizia), Black Mondo (Ophiopogon), and burgundy Chinese Fringe Flower (Loropetalum)) may be subsiding. Demand for white or ivory-variegated plants is on the rise. Especially eye-catching at the conference was a Calla, Zantedeschia 'Frozen Queen,’ with mostly white foliage and deep carmine-rose flowers, and an Elephant Ear with pink and white veins, Colocasia esculenta Royal Hawaiian® 'Waikiki.’ The Elephant Ear made me think of a super-sized Caladium.

The second trend was a surprising move among younger (Gen Z) gardeners away from naturalized or meadow gardens towards more formal, structured grounds with a strong Greek influence in statuary. Expect to see more boxwoods and stone archways.

Finally, the National Garden Bureau released the “Year Of” plants for 2023: The Perennial of the Year is Rudbeckia; the Shrub of the Year is Spirea; the Houseplant of the Year is Orchid; the Bulb of the Year is Amaryllis; the Annual of Year is Celosia; and the Edible of the Year is broccoli.

Three new plant introductions that you will want to check out are Hydrangea paniculata Puffer Fish™ (like ‘Bobo’ but with puffy, pure white flowers that age to lime green); Coneflower Echinacea ‘Raspberry Beret’ and a groundcover Shasta Daisy, Leucanthemum superbum ‘Carpet Angel®, that gets only six inches tall but has the same white daisy flowers as the tall variety. Check them out online and look for these beauties in garden nurseries in spring

Easy, Pretty Tatarian Aster

Asters adorn the fall garden with clouds of blue blooms that show to advantage against yellow goldenrod, orange pumpkins, and the warm shades of autumn leaves. The Asteraceae family was one of the largest until those pesky taxonomists got involved. With their penchant for genetic accuracy, they reclassified North American asters into Symphyotrichum, Eurybia, and a number of smaller classes. For an exhaustive (mind-numbing) discussion of Aster’s new family tree, consult the University of Waterloo’s research report by clicking HERE.

Today’s feature plant, Tatarian Aster, was formerly Aster tataricus and is now Crinitaria tatarica (pronounced krin-ih-TAIR-ee-ah tah-tair-IH-ka). Tatarian Aster is a perennial wildflower with soft lavender-blue, star-shaped flowers held in flat-topped groups. The flowers have 7-20 petals each, arranged around a yellow center. Bees, moths, and butterflies love them. They provide a nectar meal for migrating Monarch butterflies.

Tatarian Asters grow in zones 3-9, in any soil type and almost any pH, and require full sun exposure. Plants are resistant to heat and humidity. They may gain heights of up to six feet, but rarely need to be staked unless they are grown in very fertile soil with plentiful moisture. Unless you enjoy staking, take a Tough Love approach to growing this perennial. Plants grown in rich soils with plentiful moisture can spread aggressively.

The height of Tatarian Aster means it is a good back-of-the-border feature. It is especially pretty when grown along the sunny edges of woodlands, paired with Miscanthus, Muhlenbergia, or other grasses. Deadheading spent blooms will lead to a lengthy flowering season, from late summer all the way to freezing temperatures. In winter, cut the dead foliage back to ground level.

Tupelo, A Honey of a Tree

Tupelo, also known as Blackgum, is among the first trees to show fall color. Summer leaves are a pretty, shiny green. In autumn they turn fiery red, which you may have deduced from cultivar names like ‘Red Rage,’ ‘Wildfire,’ and “Firestarter.’ A few leaves will have yellow, orange or purple highlights. In spring, the nectar-rich flowers are a butterfly favorite but blooms are so small they are unnoticeable to humans. In late summer, female trees produce deep blue or purple fruit, a treat for turkeys, songbirds, bears, opossums, and raccoons. Honeybees produce a high quality, pale honey from Tupelo nectar.

Tupelo (Nyssa sylvatica, pronounced NYE·suh sil·VA·tuh·kuh and mispronounced by me 100% of the time as NISS-ah) are native to the eastern US, and are hardy in zones 3 through 9. They prefer a moist, acid soil in full sun, but are adaptable to wet or dry locations, are wind- and salt-tolerant, are fire resistant, and will withstand some shade. They grow in sand, clay or silt soils.

While deer may nibble the tender new shoots in spring, they leave mature trees alone. The straight species and older cultivars may suffer from leaf spots, but this does not seem to harm the tree. ‘Red Rage’ and ‘Green Gable’ cultivars are resistant to leaf spot problems.

These are slow growers but can be induced to speed thing up by the addition of water and fertilizer. Mature height is typically 30 feet with a 20-foot spread, but in favorable habitats they may reach 90 feet or more. Tupelo Tower™ is a narrow cultivar, only 15 feet wide at maturity. A weeping cultivar is available, as is a variegated form, but I have not found those in local nurseries. A super-cool cultivar, ‘Zydeco Twist’ has gnarly, contorted limbs that make one think of Harry Lauder’s Walking Stick, an unrelated plant.

Although leaves can be confused with those of common Persimmon (Diospyros) trees, Tupelo limbs emerge from the trunk at a 90-degree angle, which (along with their dark, blocky or ridged bark) makes trees easy to identify in winter. Tupelo leaves are clustered on short, smooth limbs, “spurs.” Persimmon leaves are not shiny, and occur all along the length of the limb. Tupelos have a tap-root structure that means they transplant best when young.

Brilliant fall color

Tupelo fruit

The beginning of autumn color change

Mushroom Brains

I found a brain while I was walking through my woodlands this week. At least I thought it was a brain. Or a pile of cooked egg noodles, which seemed just as unlikely as a brain, since civilization is at least a half mile away in all directions. Research indicated that it was a natural growth in the genus Sparassis, an edible fungus known as cauliflower mushroom. The very helpful www.MushroomExpert.com provided a key on how to distinguish the various species, but also described a “look-alike” species, Podoscypha aculeata.

My particular specimens (I found another nearby) are Sparassis americana. A fairly rare fungus, it sprouts from the roots of pine trees, not trunks, and is an indicator of brown root rot below the surface. This means I need to keep an eye on the host trees, and will have them removed when declining health warrants.

Www.Foragerchef.com describes the cauliflower mushroom as “one of the most delicious wild mushrooms you can hunt…a choice edible species.” The authors give specific instructions on cleaning (cumbersome process with lots of references to hidden insect larvae) and several recipes, ranging from soups to cauliflower “steaks.”

In the interest of science and from innate curiosity, I made a personal sacrifice for the collective benefit of my readers. As a result, I can tell you that there are marked differences in definitions of “delicious.” Edible, yes, but not something I would praise as a delicacy.

If you decide to forage for these or any other wild mushrooms, please be certain of the identity before you consume them. Several common mushrooms have deadly look-alikes.

Cauliflower mushroom looks like a pile of cooked, curly egg noodles.

The angle of this photo is deceptive. The fungus is larger than a softball.

Muhly Grass for Autumn Color

Autumn colors are orange, red, yellow, rust…and pink? Across the southeast, Pink Muhly Grass (Muhlenbergia capillaris, pronounced mew-len-BERG-ee-ah or mew-len-BER-jee-uh) is reaching its peak. We do not usually think of grass as a flowering plant, but there is no mistaking the decorative value of pink Muhly. Its feathery plumes float like clouds of pink cotton candy. A white-flowered form is available also but is harder to find than the pink variety. White varieties bloom a little later than pink forms.

 Mulhy is easy to grow in full sun, zones 6-9. Native to North America, it will grow in sandy, rocky, or clay soil. Avoid constantly wet soils. It is not troubled by insects or diseases, and is highly resistant to deer damage. Plants grow up to four feet tall and  three feet wide. Established plants are heat and drought tolerant. The narrow leaves sway gracefully in breezes. Flowering begins in autumn and is followed by attractive seed heads that persist through winter, providing food for birds. The purplish-pink form ages to a creamy tan color and the white form ages to an attractive gray.

 A standalone plant is attractive, but mass plantings of Muhly are gorgeous. Two pairings that are particularly attractive: Pink Muhly with purple-leaf Loropetalum,  or White Muhly paired with purple-flowered Mexican Salvia (Salvia leucanthemum).

 Plants may need to be divided every three years or so to avoid dieback in the centers. Give clumps a cleanup cut in late winter or early spring, before new growth starts, but do not cut so short that the crown is damaged. While some other grasses may become invasive, Muhly is well behaved and makes a perfect addition to the low maintenance garden.

Pink Muhly Grass used as an edging

Blooms look like cotton candy

Discouraging Deer

When I see deer in our woodlands or along the driveway, my heart softens. Those big soulful eyes, alert ears, graceful movements. I feel compassion for wild creatures that are being forced by commercial development and the housing boom into smaller and smaller native habitats. When I observe their destruction in my garden, however, my empathy disappears. I have learned to regard them as large rodents.

The deer mating season (the “rut”) begins with the onset of cooler weather here in the deep south. Male deer rub the fuzz off their antlers by scrubbing them against tree trunks. Thin bark trees are vulnerable to damage that may be fatal. In the Mary Snoddy garden, it seems deer bypass large oaks and tough hickories while targeting dogwoods, figs, and peach trees. When they are not rubbing against trees, they are eating, eating, eating. And rather than dining on the tasty plants in our woodlands, they choose to snack on whatever grows in my flowerbeds, borders, and vegetable garden.

Common but unproven discouragement strategies range from the hanging of shiny foil streamers in trees to playing a radio in the garden to using motion-activated sprinklers. Once deer have become accustomed to any of these, their initial value as a deterrent falls to zero.

Here are some coping strategies:

• Protect vulnerable tree trunks with wire wraps or protective cages.

• If allowed, consider erecting protective fencing. Deer are amazing jumpers, so fences will need to be eight feet or taller. Two shorter fences can be installed, one a couple of feet inside the other, so that deer do not have a good landing pad between. Electric or solar fences protect vegetable gardens, but they are not attractive.

• Deer are creatures of habit. They follow the same trails every day. Do not plant tempting trees or shrubs along their regular paths. If you must plant one of their favorite snacks along their route, try surrounding it by plants deer avoid.

• Spray with deer repellant products. There are many commercial products available and numerous recipes for homemade concoctions. I have had limited (read: no) success with most of these, and human hair had no discernable effect. Likewise, hanging bars of stinky soap in my trees was not a deterrent. They gnawed on the bars of Irish Spring in my fruit trees. The only repellant product that succeeds in my garden is Milorganite (a type of fertilizer derived from sanitized human waste), and it must be reapplied after every rain. An added benefit of having dogs is that deer avoid the area where the pets take care of bathroom business. Perhaps they smell the dogs as predators?

• Select plants that deer do not favor (examples: Rosemary, Yew, Boxwood), and avoid those they prefer (examples: Hosta, Daylily, Indian Hawthorne). The NC State University Cooperative Extension has prepared an excellent report of Deer Resistant Plants for southeastern gardens. Click HERE for the full text.

Mother and fawn. Photo by Jerry King, Reidville, SC

A young male. Photo by Jerry King, Reidville, SC

Light reflects in the eyes of nocturnal-dining deer, giving them a spooky appearance.

Garden Geek Speak: Buffer pH

Summer is winding down, and it is time to start thinking about next year’s garden. One of the smartest things a gardener can do is to submit a soil sample to the nearest extension office. For a nominal fee, a University lab will evaluate your soil and provide a list of recommendations on amendments.

Why test soil now instead of next spring? Many southeastern beds, borders and lawns need an application of lime (limestone) to adjust the pH of the soil. Without a correct pH, plants cannot efficiently absorb available nutrients. Lime works slowly. Obtain your recommended application rate now, apply it after the end-of-summer cleanup, and allow fall season rains to carry it into the soil where the adjustment process will take place during winter.

Because my gardening beds are not located near each other, they have different needs. I select three areas each year for soil testing. Recommendations are geared toward the plants grown in the test area, so my blueberry beds will have one set of recommendations, my shade garden (hostas and ferns) will have another, and the perennial beds on a rocky southwestern slope will have yet another. Next year I will select three different areas for testing. While you could test annually, I find that once every three years is sufficient.

Fortunately, the University-generated amendment recommendations are spelled out in terms almost anyone can understand. For instance, here is the recommended zinc application for new pecan trees: Use 1 pound of 16-4-8 or 1½ pounds of 12-6-6 fertilizer distributed in a 25-square-foot area around the tree. Make this application immediately after planting and again in June or July. The following February, apply 4 pounds of 16-4-8 or 5 pounds of 12-6-6 fertilizer for each inch of trunk diameter (measured 1 foot above soil surface). Pretty clear, yes?

There is one item on the soil analysis which is confusing. There is one number for Soil pH and another number for Buffer pH. The two numbers are not the same. What is the difference? Simply put, Buffer pH measures a soil’s resistance to change. A soil with high clay content will take a different quantity of product (lime, sulphur or aluminum) to effect pH change than a soil with high sand content. The soil pH meters sold in garden centers can provide a measurement of soil pH, but they cannot give an application rate based on soil structure.

Don’t waste time and money with guessing. I learned this the hard way. After applying 10-10-10 fertilizer to my beds for years, my first soil test indicated a phosphorus level that was off the chart. (I like to blame Martha Stewart’s garden book recommendation for Triple SuperPhosphate, but the fault is all mine. Her Connecticut soil needed phosphate. My South Carolina soil did not.) Out of balance soils take time to correct. It took several years before my excessive phosphorus dropped to a normal level. Before I knew better, the addition of 10-10-10 always made my plants look better short-term as they took up the available nitrogen. Nitrogen leaches out quickly, so as soon as the first flush of growth subsided, plants looked a little unhealthy and I added more 10-10-10 or 17-17-17, making the imbalance worse. While it seems that a fertilizer “with added micronutrients!” should be superior, it is only better if your soil actually needs those micronutrients.

Following the instructions provided, gather a soil sample and stick to the resulting recommendations. It is important to follow good sampling technique so that the resulting recommendation is accurate. As a side note, it is usually unnecessary for homeowners to pay extra money for a lab-generated Organic Matter Test. It sounds like it should be useful, but this measurement is used by farmers to calculate how much herbicide they need for crop treatment.

When spreading lime or fertilizer in a narrow bed, perhaps one surrounded by lawn or patio, it is difficult to use a mechanical spreader without getting the product where you don’t want it. Spreading by hand can be uneven and tiring if your beds are large. Here is my method: Take a clean, empty plastic quart container (mayonnaise jar is perfect). Remove the top and use an electric drill to make holes in the lid. For fertilizer, I use a 3/8” bit and make a lot of holes. Adjust your hole size and quantity to the product you are spreading. Fill the dry container with fertilizer or lime, attach the lid and you have a giant “salt shaker.” The light weight of the container makes for easy application. I keep one of these homemade spreaders in every bag of fertilizer, ant bait or pelleted insecticides. If you measure the correct amount of fertilizer for the given space into the jar, it is easy to avoid applying too much.

Container Plants and Heat

Follow a few steps to keep container plants happy during the hottest part of the summer.

First, choose plastic or composite containers rather than clay or metal. Avoid dark-colored pots. Unglazed terracotta allows rapid evaporation of soil moisture, and metal can get hot enough to damage roots. Insulate the inside walls of iron urns or cast aluminum containers with bubble wrap or several layers of newspaper to keep soil cooler. Go big rather than little. Large containers do not dry out as quickly as smaller ones, and close grouping of containers will form a protective community, reducing evaporation in each. “Self-watering” containers have a hidden reservoir that captures water, and allows overflow to be available to the container. Do not allow plants to sit permanently in saucers of water or roots will rot. Mosquitoes breed in standing water, too.

Potting soil with high organic matter will retain moisture better than low-humus soils. For years, I purchased hydrogels and added them to my container soil mix. Hydrogels were first patented by two employees of Union Carbide Company in 1967. They are crystals about the size of large grains of sugar and can hold 600 times their weight in water. When water is absorbed, they look like clear jellybeans. The theory is that they will absorb moisture (from rain or irrigation) and release it back to the roots during dry periods. However, university lab tests (Washington State University, documented by Linda Chalker-Scott – click HERE to read additional info) showed that this retained moisture is not necessarily transferred to plants. In the WSU lab, several brands of hydrogels were used in the testing. The plants were grown in 1-gallon containers and watered when the medium was less than 80% saturated. After all of the plants matured to the same size, watering was stopped and the plants were allowed to dry out. Each plant was tested at regular intervals to determine moisture content. The results showed that none of the hydrogels kept plants supplied with water any better than the plants that had nothing added to the soil. One product actually stunted the growth to the plants to which it was applied. The crystals break down in five years or so, and degrade into carcinogenic neurotoxins. Ugh! A light top-dressing of a fine-textured mulch WILL reduce evaporation. A groundcover in a container will also help keep soil cool and moist – think Creeping Jenny, Ajuga or Dianthus.

Unless they are huge, containers can be repositioned to avoid full sun exposure during periods of punishing heat. Protect pots from excessive wind. Thirsty plants may require twice daily watering in sweltering heat. Ideally, drip irrigation can run to containers, but this restricts their repositioning.

Selecting heat-tolerant and drought-tolerant specimens makes good sense. Succulents are available in different colors and forms. Most are relatively inexpensive. A single Agave or Yucca can be quite attractive. Plants with grayish foliage or wooly leaves are almost always good choices for hot spaces.

This lovely Ixora is in a plastic container which has been inserted into a decorative clay pot. The double potting provides insulation against heat and prevents excess evaporation.

Weed Rant: Horse Nettle

It is time for another weed rant. Horse nettle, Solanum carolinense (pronounced so-LAN-num kair-oh-lin-EN-say), is number two on my list of Weeds From Hades. (Number one is mulberryweed. Click HERE to review A Terrible, Horrible, No Good Weed.) Horse nettle has two, and only two, positive attributes. It is southeastern native, and bumblebees love the pale lavender flowers. If I was feeling generous toward this plant demon (I’m not), I could add that wild turkey, quail and a few songbirds enjoy the berries. The berries and all other parts of the plant are seriously toxic to humans, pets, and livestock.

Horse nettle is found in more than half of the USA. It is a tap-rooted perennial that will grow in any type of soil and any pH. It grows along sunny roadsides, in open fields, and in cultivated gardens. I thought that tilling the soil in my orchard would vanquish this foe, but instead the tilling process broke the root and its fleshy rhizomes into pieces, all of which returned with a vengeance. I do not use herbicides in areas where food is grown, so the only method of removal is digging and pulling. The razor-sharp prickles penetrate thin garden gloves, so I have added a pair of cheap pliers to my bucket of garden tools. I grasp the base of the plant with the pliers and lift gently, while using a tool in the other hand to loosen and lift the rhizomes that radiate off the tap root. It is a slow process, better done after a rain has softened the soil. [Side note: Prickles are modified plant hairs, spines are modified leaves, and thorns are modified stems. Roses have prickles, not thorns. Best not to mention this to poetry-writing friends.] Even if the prickles do not stab you, the star-shaped hairs cause misery when they brush against an unprotected ankle.

Young horse nettle leaves resemble tomato. Stems zig-zag and become woody with age. Plants may be 30 inches or more in height, but tend to sprawl rather than growing upright. They flower from spring all the way into fall. The fruits are round green marbles containing several seeds each. In late fall, the green fruits turn yellow and can be mistaken for a tiny tomato. Fully ripe berries wrinkle a bit. If you have children or grandchildren, please educate them about this plant. Ripe, yellow fruits are even more toxic than the green ones. Consuming them can lead to coma or death. Not only does horse nettle stab the careless gardener, it also plays host to tobacco hornworms and Colorado potato beetles.

If herbicide is your chosen method for eradication, check the label to be certain it is listed. Horse nettle is resistant to some herbicides (2,4D for instance) and repeated mowing has no effect.

Other common names for horse nettle include bull nettle, devil’s tomato, or apple of Sodom. The name of those in the Mary Snoddy garden is not fit for print.

Horse nettle flowers

Evil prickles

Immature fruit

Volunteer Plants

A “volunteer” plant is defined as one you did not intentionally start from seed or transplant. Often. these volunteers perform better than plants purchased or started from seeds. Occasionally, you regret their arrival.

 When I moved two years ago, I accidentally brought dormant seeds of Petunia integrifolia along with my potted Peony bulbs. This wild petunia (not to be confused with Ruellia, which also goes by the common name Wild Petunia) is an ancestor of the cultivated variety we buy today. My husband calls them “granny petunias.” In flower shades of purple, these lax plants spread themselves about with wild abandon. In a single season, they have inserted themselves between every one of my 50+ Peonies and even marched downhill to pop up in random areas of my small orchard. I allow these gratuitous plants to remain wherever they place themselves because (1) they flower a long time and add a lot of color, (2) the foliage has a fragrance and sticky texture that encourage critters to leave it alone, (3) they ignore heat and drought, and (4) even if plants die due to neglect, they usually drop seeds that will germinate and rapidly grow to flowering size, meaning the show goes on for months and months, with no encouragement from me. If they grow too lanky, a severe cutback will generate new growth and renewed flowering. Due to their unkempt growth habit, these plants look better from a distance.

Brown-eyed Susan seeds (Rudbeckia triloba) hitchhiked to the new location in pots of purple Coneflower. When young, the Susan’s foliage mimics Coneflower (Echinacea) so closely that I did not realize their separate identity until they began flowering. They share the same cultural preferences as the Coneflower, and are in full bloom right now. I have transplanted a dozen or so, and given away twice that many. A native heat-lover that is perennial in zones 4-9, the yellow flowers are a pollinator favorite. They make long-lasting cut flowers.

I am uncertain of the origin of native annual Spider Flowers (Cleome hassleriana) which arose in an area that was heavy woodlands before land clearing that took place in March of this year. A single plant appeared in May and was covered with flowers. Three more plants emerged nearby in June but one of these was decapitated, although whether by animals or human means is unknown. As dusk approaches, giant Sphinx moths (look like fuzzy hummingbirds) visit to sip nectar. Older varieties of Cleome will reseed heavily. Newer introductions are both shorter (two feet tall versus five feet of older generations) and sterile, so reseeding is not a concern.

Finally, Perilla frutescens made the move from old garden to new. I love the ruffled purple foliage of this mint relative but the reseeding is insane. Flowers are inconsequential, but the foliage makes a great vase addition, especially when paired with pink flowers. Once flowering begins, I remove and discard them, leaving only a single plant to ensure I have some for the following year. Many friends have asked for a transplant, and then berated me soundly after they ignored the advice to remove it before seeds started to drop. More than once, I have heard, “How could you have given me such a thug? That **** is everywhere!” Years ago, I was speaking to a garden club on unwelcome volunteers. I brought examples as visual learning aids. When I held up the example of Perilla and said, “If anyone gives you this plant and tells you that it is purple Basil, that person is NOT your friend.” There was an uncomfortable shifting in the seats and some averted eyes. I knew that I had touched a nerve somehow, but it was not until after my presentation was over and the meeting concluded that I learned the source of disquiet. One of the members walked me to my car and shared that the club president had given each person a Perilla plant the prior meeting, telling them that it was purple Basil. Oopsie! Let’s assume she was ignorant and not evil.

Herein is the rub. A few plants that arrive as volunteers are like guests that just won’t leave. Perilla, above, is one of them. Pink Evening Primose (Oenothera speciosa) is another. Before you allow a volunteer to remain in your garden, do a little research to be certain it will not displace better-behaved specimens. An additional caution: Vegetable plants that arise from seeds dropped the prior year may look like their mother plant but not taste the same. The curcubits (squash, pumpkin, melons, cucumbers) are prone to producing volunteers with bitter or tasteless fruits. If the fruits of a volunteer do not look or taste the same as their mother plant, do not eat them. Pull the plant and discard it. Tomato plants frequently arise where seeds fell the prior year. (I am super guilty of not harvesting rotten or split tomatoes.) If the mother plant was a hybrid, its offspring will not have the same benefits of hybridization. Volunteer tomato plants may be less disease-resistant, and fruits may be less flavorful and more prone to splitting, cat-facing, hard green spots, etc. I am pleased to report that my favorite cherry tomato, ‘Camp Joy,’ comes true from dropped seeds each year. The vigorous, indeterminate plants set an enormous number of quarter-sized fruits with real tomato flavor, acidic enough to be tasty with none of that too-sugary sweetness.

Enjoy your volunteers – but make sure they are polite keepers.

Perilla

Perilla frutescens

Perilla

Perilla frutescens

Brown Eyed Susan

Rudbeckia triloba

Spider Flower

Cleome hassleriana

Petunia

Petunia integrifolia

What is a Cottage Garden?

Cottage gardens evolved from Victorian kitchen gardens. “Cottage” meant a small, informal home on a small lot. These were homes of workers, not nobility. Working class folks had little leisure time for complicated pruning, lawncare, or rows of plants transferred from a hothouse. Their garden plots were originally used for food cultivation. Over time, food gave way to flowers or a combination of food and flora.

Cottage gardens share main elements. A white picket fence, stone walls, or clipped evergreen hedges (boxwood or privet) often define the perimeter. Informal paths of woodchips, gravel, bricks, or stepping stones lead the visitor through the garden. Any concrete paths are softened by allowing flowers to billow over the edges. Trellises, sundials, birdbaths, benches or planters are focal features, while the plantings themselves are a combination of shrubs, annuals and perennials, with emphasis on flowers of many colors and shapes These may be planted in graduated heights with taller plants at back, or sited in a patchwork arrangement, with tall specimens at front, back and throughout, living shoulder to shoulder with shorter companions. To accommodate the contrasting heights, borders are typically deep and grass lawns are limited in size. Sometimes turf only appears as a mowed walking strip between flower beds. Seen from a distance, the cottage garden is a riot of color. Plants are meant to spread and lean into one another, with little or no visible spaces between.

Roses, coneflowers, daisies, Nicotiana, and foxgloves are traditional favorites for the cottage garden. Sweet peas are also a traditional choice but they are short-lived in southeastern heat. Likewise, I have attempted to grow Lady's Mantle (Alchemilla) and killed it each attempt, so have moved onto plants that are more tolerant of heat and neglect. Some of my friends in cooler zones report their Lady’s Mantle is so prolific it borders on invasive. I am envious.

Herbs such as rosemary or thyme offer fragrance in cottage beds, and lamb’s ears, dusty miller or Artemesia are commonly used to provide a sensory element. Flowering vines such as jasmine, honeysuckle or Clematis can be grown on a trellis or tuteur to introduce a vertical element. Small flowering trees can do the same. Redbud, dogwood, crabapple or flowering cherry add both color and height.

The goal is to have flowers in bloom through the entire growing season. My favorite long-flowering perennials are tall Phlox, dwarf butterfly bush (Buddleia), Lantana, Bee Balm (Monarda), and coneflower (Echinacea). My favorite annuals are Melampodium, Four O’ Clocks (Mirabilis), Spider flower (Cleome), and Cosmos, all of which reseed readily, withstand heat, tolerate a wide range of soils, and need little maintenance other than deadheading. For cool season flowers, Johnny Jump Ups (Viola) are outstanding and they reseed readily.

Several shades of Four O’ Clocks mingle with white Nicotiana and a blue Mophead Hydrangea. Magenta Rose Campion is at the back of the bed. Orange and yellow daylilies are at the right, near the birdbath.

Heat-tolerant Plants

Southeastern gardeners expect July and August to be hot, but the past week has been brutal across most of the country. Millions of Americans experienced “feels like” temperature of 100 degrees or more. Utility providers are pleading for users to reduce their consumption and water restrictions are in place. Everywhere, gardens suffer. I do not have inground irrigation and I refuse to pamper finicky plants. Through the years, I have found a few flowers that will withstand my tough love approach and bloom through steamy weather, with a minimal amount of supplemental water.

Clusters of lavender Society Garlic contrast with the yellow flowers of Rudbeckia, behind. The grass-like foliage has a skunky odor if crushed. Rabbits and deer avoid it.

The small flowerbed close to our entrance is planted with yellow, purple, and orange heat lovers. Purple Coneflowers (Echinacea purpurea ), several Salvia selections, and Society Garlic (Tulbaghia violacea) have purple or lavender flowers, while Purple Heart (Tradescantia pallida) offers violet foliage. They contrast nicely with the butter yellow flowers of annual Melampodium (one of my top performers) and the towering yellow Coneflower, Rudbeckia ‘Herbstonne.’ Orange Butterfly Weed (Asclepias tuberosa) flowers in late spring. I cut it back by half and it reblooms in July and August. Finally, Jerusalem Cherry (Solanum pseudocapsicum) has bright orange, inedible fruits that glow against dark green foliage. Jerusalem Cherry can be invasive, so I keep a careful eye on it, removing spent fruits before they can reseed. It was a heritage plant whose ancestors grew in my grandparents’ garden when I was a child. Just to keep things lively, a trio of Shasta Daisy ‘Becky’ contribute a pop of white, with orange-yellow centers. Lots of color, with limited effort.

Other plants that will withstand heat include Lantana, Butterfly Bush (look for sterile Buddleia like the Pugster® series to avoid reseeding), Zinnia, Spider Flower (Cleome hassleriana), Cosmos (both C. sulphurens and C. bipinnatus), Ice Plant (Portulaca), and Turk’s Turban (Malvaviscus). The first three will benefit from deadheading, but the others eject spent flowers unaided.

As our weather patterns change, gardeners can be good stewards of our resources by transitioning away from super-thirsty plants to those that will thrive with less. We do not need to restrict ourselves to only Cacti and desert plants. Small changes made by many people result in large water-use reduction.

Instead of spreading thirsty plants across the entire garden, clustering them in one area will reduce the need for dragging a hose around. Watering your heavy drinkers with a soaker hose will reduce water lost to evaporation. Mulch will reduce evaporation and keep soil cooler.

The butter-yellow flowers of Melampodium contrast with the violet foliage of Purple Heart.

The orange fruits of Jerusalem Cherry draw attention. The orange Zinnia to the left was self-seeded, a volunteer from last year’s dropped seeds. Behind the Society Garlic, peep the yellow flowers of a young Melampodum, also a volunteer seedling.

The Chelsea Chop

What is “The Chelsea Chop,” a term I hear from professional garden-tenders? In simple terms, it is a mid-season cutback for flowering perennial plants. It earned its catchy moniker in the UK, where border plants are pruned hard around the same time as London’s famous Chelsea Flower Show (May).

American weather, soil type, and growing season differs from lands across the pond, but a mid-summer cutback is a great idea for many plants, including Yarrow (Achillea), Coneflowers (Echinacea), Artemisia, Catnip (Nepeta), Bee Balm (Monarda), Salvia, and Gaura. If a perennial blooms well during spring and fall but takes a flowering siesta in the hottest part of the summer, it may be a good candidate for the chop. Pruned perennials will often branch and produce new buds and leaves, with a rounded, tidy appearance. Annual flowers do not respond as well as perennials. I applied the Chelsea Chop to annual Spider Flower (Cleome) last year and was left with a bed of headless stems that neither branched nor rebloomed.

When orange Butterfly Weed (Asclepias tuberosa) sheds its flowers, a cutback by half will often spur a second bloom that rivals the first, and new foliage looks fresher than older, tattered leaves and stems. Butterfly larvae seem to prefer the tender new stems over tougher, aged ones.

When pruned in mid-June (upper SC area), fall-flowering Aster, Joe Pye Weed, Chrysanthemum, and NY Ironweed (Vernonia) will bloom about two weeks later than unpruned plants and will have smaller but more numerous flowers. Pinching out the growing tips of tall Sedums (“Autumn Joy” and the like) will cause branching and prevent their tendency to fall open at their centers during peak fall bloom time. With few exceptions, I halt serious perennial surgical reductions on July 4. Later pruning may remove flower buds or cause a growth spurt of tender growth that will later be damaged by early cold spells.

An exception to this timing recommendation is my treatment of Daylily (Hemerocallis). These reliable bulbs flower during the hottest part of the year. When the flower show is over, the foliage starts to brown and dry into an unattractive, stringy blob. I do not have the time to remove each brown leaf individually, so once all flowers have faded, I gather the foliage of each clump and decapitate it, leaving four to six inches. Then, I give the buzz-cut plants a drink of liquid fertilizer. While they will not repeat flowering, they will push out new, bright green foliage that looks good all the way into fall. This approach does not seem to weaken the plant or reduce flowering in future years.

Rather than performing a wholesale chop-chop-chop on everything, I follow advice I read years ago in a wonderful book, The Well-Tended Perennial Garden: The Essential Guide to Planting and Pruning Techniques by Tracey DiSabato-Aust (Published by Timber Press in 2017, also available in Kindle version). I cut back half the plant in June and leave the other half to flower on its original schedule. Sometimes I prune the perimeter of the plant and leave the center untouched, and sometimes (when I’m feeling especially patient) I select every other stem in the overall bunch to reduce. When the latter approach is done carefully, an observer does not notice any pruning has been done. See the accompanying before and after photos of Shasta Daisy ‘Becky’ for an example. The removal of roughly one third of the bloom stems is unnoticeable. If the half-chop method is used, remove spent flowers from the early flowering, unpruned stems or the plant may put its energy into seed-making and not produce a second round of blooms. 

As tempting as it is to use a hedge-trimmer for a quick pruning job, the best results come from pruning individual stems back with hand pruners, cutting just above where a leaf joins the stem. The prune-to-a-leaf method eliminates naked stem orphans that will darken and wither, and may offer an opportunity for disease entry.

All plants look better when dead flowers are removed. But please, remove the entire stem down to the first leaf or even shorter. Do not snap the flowers off and leave headless stems. That’s just creepy.

Shasta Daisy before Chop

Shasta Daisy after Chop

Bee Balm is Nature's Form of Fireworks

Fireworks exploded across the nation Monday night in celebration of Independence Day. In the garden, Bee Balm (Monarda didyma and Monarda fistulosa) blooms are exploding into Nature’s version of fireworks. Monarda is pronounced moe-NAR-da.

Bee Balm is a heat-loving, native perennial that should be in every sunny pollinator garden. Its square stems tell the gardener that it is a member of the mint family. Like mint, it spreads aggressively by underground runners and can become invasive if not restrained. Plants are hardy zones 4 through 9. They prefer acid to neutral soil, and tolerate heavy clay. They are heat-tolerant, but moist soil produces a prettier, healthier specimen.

Bee Balm can be propagated by seed, division, or cuttings. To prevent spreading, create a collar by cutting the top 4-5 inches off a nursery pot, then sinking it a couple of inches into the soil around the plant. The collar will serve as a STOP sign to encroaching roots. Be alert for any small plants that manage to evade the barrier. After a couple of years, lift congested plants, divide, and replant.

Plants can reach four feet or more, and may need staking to keep them upright after summer thunderstorms. They tend to flop when grown in part-sun areas. Older cultivars developed a bad reputation for their proclivity to disfiguring mildew and rust. New introductions are both disease resistant and shorter to reduce the need for staking. ‘Jacob Cline’ (red) and ‘Grand Marshall’ (fuchsia to purple) are two mildew-resistant cultivars. Good air circulation helps prevent mildew problems. If your plants fall victim to mildew, try to ignore the ugly leaves rather than using fungicides that may have a negative impact on pollinators.

Bee Balm blooms have a complicated structure which is better demonstrated by a photo than description. Plants have an extended flowering period even if they are not deadheaded, although removing spent flowers make a more attractive show.

Bees, butterflies, and hummingbirds love the flowers, while deer and rabbits leave plants alone. This may be because of the strong fragrance of the foliage. Bee Balm is one of the rare plants that will grow well near Black Walnut trees. The leaves and flowers can be used to make teas or flavor jellies. Presumably, the Oswego Indian tribe brewed the leaves, because a common name that has fallen from wide use is Oswego Tea.

This Bee Balm appears to advantage when seen against a fence.

The equivalent of an “Eat Here” sign for pollinators.

This sign made me giggle. The nursery hired someone who wasn’t familiar with Bee Balm, so the new employee labeled it as he heard it: B Bomb. (I blurred the name of the nursery out of respect.)