Where the wildflowers are

THE HERALD NEWS, JULY 4, 2004
By GREG RUMMO

     For all the energy we spend on our gardens, we have yet to equal the beauty of nature’s own. When we even take time to notice the wildflowers thriving at our feet in “waste places,” we call them weeds. 

THE WRITER OF Genesis tells us, “The Lord God planted a garden eastward in Eden, and there He put the man whom He had formed.” There must have been a reason God chose to place Adam and Eve in a garden. But whatever was behind the decision, the first man’s surroundings left an indelible impression that has been passed on to all subsequent generations and we simply cannot escape the obsession to beautify our surroundings with flowers.

For all the energy we spend on our gardens, we have yet to equal the beauty of nature’s own. When we even take time to notice the wildflowers thriving at our feet in “waste places,” we call them weeds.

Twenty-two years ago I worked at a chemical manufacturing plant located in Rockland County, N.Y. Just outside the fence that surrounded the facility was a meadow that, over time, became a very special place to me. Early on warm summer mornings, a stiff breeze would often blow in from the Hudson River, billowing cumulus clouds high into an azure sky. The meadow was always a flurry of activity when I arrived for work: A half-dozen chimney swifts, a yellow-shafted flicker, a solitary American kestrel could all be seen taking wing over an undulating sea of Yellow Sweet Clover, Mouse-ear Hawkweed, Common Fleabane, Deptford Pinks, Bladder Campions and many more of the world’s most stunning wildflowers.

It was an amazing refuge of hidden beauty—a small Garden of Eden—surrounded by high-tech clamor on all sides. Our plant bordered its eastern fringes. A road traversed by tankers of dangerous chemicals bisected it and served as an avenue for three other, smaller business that had engulfed a portion in steel, concrete and macadam. A shopping mall with a large Grand Union, a bank, a gift shop a Laundromat and a very noisy video arcade, toed up to the meadow’s northwest corner. There was also an elementary school and a retirement complex that had encroached from the south.

The land, off Route 9W in Stony Point, was purchased in the 1960s by a contractor who skimmed and sold its topsoil. Indeed, a barren mound was all that remained of a large portion of it.

Field guide authors call meadows like this “waste places.” Workers, kids on bicycles and addled shoppers frequently cut through, never noticing the riches at their feet. To the companies on all sides, it was merely an empty and unprofitable piece of land. When I left my job, I was sure it was simply a matter of time before it would be paved over and the flowers would be gone forever.

I took many lunchtime walks along the sandy paths that would through the dense thickets. During hot summer days, the sun distilled the various fragrant nectars into a bouquet that easily made the most expensive perfume seem like cheap toilet water in comparison.

It was there that my interest in wildflowers was kindled.

Although wild-flower meadows are quite common, each is a remarkable creation, especially in light of receiving no positive human attention. This lack of human care is in fact the definition of a wild flower. More than 15,000 such species grow north of the Mexican border.

Wildflowers are not limited to open meadows. There are many species that do well in the most densely shaded regions of forests, offering a pleasant surprise in an otherwise boring carpet of decomposing organic matter.

They can be found growing just about anywhere; on lawns in suburbia, in vacant lots and even between the cracks in city sidewalks. The majority are aliens that originated in Europe or like the day lily, in Asia. Some probably arrived as stray seeds clinging to sailors and cargo through our ports. Others were brought by homesick settlers who cultivated them in gardens, from which they escaped. There are even stories of those who risked their lives—and some who died—while trying to retrieve a rare specimen from the Himalayas.

The propagation of wildflowers is clearly low-tech. Though their systems are similar to garden varieties, much is left to chance. In most cases, the flower acts as an insect lure. The coloring and the sweet bouquet attract bees and other insects and hummingbirds to the nectar. As the nectar is gathered, the animal’s body pushes against the flower’s pollen-containing organs and some rubs off on to the bug’s little hairs or the bird’s feathers.

As the nectar-gathering continues from flower to flower, some of these pollen grains become dislodged and fall off the animal on to that part of the flower known as the stigma. The pollen is transferred from the stigma, down into the style and finally into the ovary where fertilization takes place. The flower soon wilts, and the progeny—seeds—are either wind blown or transported by animals which happen to brush against them, and the cycle is completed.

Some of these flowers do not have all that much time to achieve their task. The lavender flowers of the chicory plant last only one day though you’d never notice. Each day, new flowers emerge than die.

Wildflowers come in all sizes, shapes and colors; from the tiny flowers of the Deptford Pink to the large, orange day lily familiar to just about everyone.

Field guides usually classify them first according to their basic color; green, white, yellow, orange, brown, red, pink and blue. Further subdivision includes the shape of the flower—simple-shaped, daisy-shaped, rounded and elongated clusters.

Their lust for life is inspiring. Their basic requirements—soil, water and light—must be met to varying degrees.

Light is the source of all energy that drives the chemical process known as photosynthesis. All green plants rely on the sun as their source of light and very few are capable of growing in dense shade although some can take more shade than others. Wildflowers of the deep woods are successful in many instances because they bloom early, before the overlying trees begin to leaf out.

Plants need water to dissolve and transport essential nutrients within their confines in much the way we humans require blood. Water also supplies turgor pressure, the force that allows a plant to remain rigid. Wildflowers that grow in arid places have managed to survive because they are equipped to cope with a reduced water supply. Some grow explosively during the rainy months of April and May, then flower and persist as seeds during dryer spells. Others—cacti and euphorbias such as the sun spurge—store water to help them survive dry periods.

Soil acts as the nutrient storehouse. Some wildflowers need richer soil than others but most are not choosy. Many species will actually grow on rock surfaces provided that the essential nutrients are washed over their root systems. Most of the wildflowers that we think of as weeds do quite well in the poorest of soils. The goldenrods, clovers and Queen Anne’s Lace all seem to grow in just about any sunny location. And the dandelion—the bane of every suburban homeowner on a quest for the perfect lawn—seems to be able to grow in places where it is most unwelcome.

Wildflowers can be found in our area in four types of habitat: Woodlands, grasslands, swampy or wet areas and salt marshes-seashores. Each has different characteristics and hosts its own species.

Woodlands have little light at ground level. Only shade-tolerant species (usually those lacking green chlorophyll) and early bloomers will be found in them. The shy Dutchman’s Breeches and the Jack-in-the-Pulpit are woodland dwellers.

We like to call certain of our areas grassland, though true prairies are only found in the West. Our grasslands are open fields where trees do not dominate and shade is minimal. Many common wildflowers such as the daisies, chicory, Queen Anne’s Lace and the clovers can be found there.

The heathers and such flowers as the Common Mullein, Joe Pye Weed and the ubiquitous Purple Loosestrife like their water constant and can be found growing in marshes, swamps or along the banks of slow-moving waterways.

Salt marshes and sandy dunes along the seashore are home to many spectacular plants. The Rugosa Rose, for example curbs beach and dune erosion and so is planted by savvy sea-addicts.

Indeed, wildflowers are finding their way back into gardens and once again are getting a hand from man in some parts of the world.

The Netherlands, the prime purveyor of tulips (so many of which have been bred frothily petaled and in garish colors), started a trend several decades ago that has caught on and has spread to lawns in suburbia and along some interstates. It is fairly common in the Netherlands to find the yards of young families strewn with great handfuls of wildflower seeds. In the villages, along rows of attached houses once marked by precise manicuring, tidy little lawn grasses are giving way to tall, swaying fields that need no care.    

People have always known that parts of wildflowers are edible, and useful for their medicinal benefits. Queen Anne’s Lace, for example is also known as wild carrot and its first-year tap root can be cooked and eaten (although I have never tried it.) So can the taproot of Jack-in-the-Pulpit which was eaten by Native Americans. I am told it is a good idea to cook it a long time to minimize the peppery taste caused by the potassium oxalate in the taproot. The roots of the Oyster Plant can be boiled and eaten, the taste being somewhat like that of oysters. The leaves of this plant have also been used as a salad or cooked as a leafy vegetable.

Many doctors who once snubbed ancient herbal remedies have been forced to reassess the value of some wildflowers. The common milkweed, for example, contains cardiac glycosides similar to the digitalins used in treating many heart diseases. True Watercress is called Scurvy Grass because its leaves which are high in vitamins A and C were used to treat scurvy. Coltsfoot has a reputation for being able to stop a bad cough and an extract made from the fresh leaves is used in some cough drops. And Echinacea is sold in health-food stores to help overcome the symptoms of the common cold.     

There are so many different species of wildflowers you really need a field guide to sort them all out. I prefer the ones that are illustrated with drawings to those containing photographs. Drawings are better at rendering the details necessary to make an identification of a particular species. Wildlife artists have studied their subjects under different lighting conditions and therefore know the best angle from which to draw and color a flower for ease of recognition. Photographs on the other hand are subject to lighting and exposure that can affect detail and color. But each type has its place and I own several for cross-referencing. Recommended field guides are The Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Wildflowers Eastern Region (Knopf) and A Field Guide to Wildflowers of North-eastern and North-central North America (Houghton Mifflin). When I checked on the Internet recently, I was able to find plenty of used copies of both editions on Amazon.com for $12 or less.)

In June I drove back to Stony Point to see what had happened to the wildflower meadow where I had taken my lunchtime walks over two decades ago. The mall is still there although a Stop and Shop has replaced the Grand Union. Most of the companies that dotted the road along the way to the chemical manufacturing plant are also still actively in business but the chemical plant itself closed long ago and is now occupied by new tenants. There is ongoing construction eating away at another chunk of the meadow and a steady flow of heavy equipment into and out of the area continues. But a portion of the meadow remains unspoiled, offering an oasis to the birds and the insects and the tenacious flowers that somehow manage to survive year after year, offering a silent testimony to God’s care of His own creation. n

Side Bar to accompany photos

The Rugosa Rose is common in seashore thickets and on sand dunes. It was originally introduced from the Orient. Its flowers are either white or red.

 The Crown Vetch and Red Sweet Clover are beneficial because they return nitrogen to the soil be means of bacteria which live in the root nodules. Both are often planet in fallow fields to help replenish soil depleted by food crops.

 Common Fleabane was thought to be able to rid the body of fleas.

All you have to do is look at Butter and Eggs to see how this species got its name. They are members of the snapdragon family. The orange paths on the lower lips of the flowers are called “honey guides” and lead insects to the nectar.

The tiny flowers of the Deptford Pink are often missed among the larger surrounding flora. The common name refers to Deptford, England where it is abundant.

 The Day Lilly is another import from Asia.

 The Multiflora Rose is a common climbing rose that grows along roadside medians on the edges of woods and in wet culverts. It forms dense thickets that are covered by white flowers with an intoxicating bouquet often permeating the woods at this time of year.    

Bladder Campion are covered with pale pink and white flowers that resemble small pitchers or bladders. 

 Purple Loosestrife will grow in just about any sunny wet spot. Although considered a pest by some wildlife managers, I think they are lovely.

 Dutchman’s Breeches is a wildflower of the dense woods. Its flowers appear early, before the deciduous canopy leafs out, when sunlight can still penetrate to the forest floor.

 The roots of the Oyster Plant can be boiled and eaten, the taste being somewhat like that of oysters. The leaves of this plant have also been used as a salad or cooked as a leafy vegetable. 

 Greg Rummo is an author and a syndicated columnist. His new book, “The View from the Grass Roots—Another Look” has just been published. A limited number of autographed copies are available from the author’s website, GregRummo.com