I have been spending a lot of time at Ann’s Place over the last week as the weeds are starting their summer march toward domination. If I (and my trusty team of volunteers) don’t make a solid stand now, it is likely that we will lose the war of keeping these invaders in check. Ironically, one of our nicest gardens is one that became colonized with a common native plant: milkweed (Asclepias syriaca). Though thought of by many as a nuisance, milkweed is essential to monarch butterflies as it is the only plant that its larvae will eat. No milkweed, no monarchs. It is something to encourage by any gardener who wants to support the monarch lifecycle.
The milkweed is in full bloom with its sweetly fragrant flowers attracting a wide range of bees, butterflies, flies and other pollinators. When I arrive in the early morning at Ann’s Place, there are hundreds of bees around the flowers, each of which supports at least two pollinators. Seeing a bloom temporarily without bugs, I stick my face into its flowering top to inhale its wonderful scent as I channel my inner honeybee. I’m sure some pollen resides on my mustache and nose.
This is a far cry from this space nearly a decade ago when it refused to accept anything I planted. But I should not have been surprised. This triangular garden gets snow, ice and salt dumped on it in the Winter by plows that clear the parking lot. It bakes to bone dry in the Summer as it is framed by blacktop on one side and concrete grass pavers on another. Every perennial I dropped in each Spring, decided to drop out (by dying) over the Winter. I have had little success with lavender (Lavandula angustifolia) as more often than not it, too, succumbs to the cold. (Last year I planted over a dozen of the Phenomenal cultivars with no Winter losses. I am cautiously hopeful.)
A few years ago, staff members asked me to plant some sunflowers (Helianthus annuus) in the space as a memorial for one of our clients. I started 75 plants in my greenhouse and transplanted them to the garden. They took off and dominated the space with their plate-sized flowers. The same year I noticed a few milkweeds popping up. I needed to stop volunteers and staff members from pulling them. Next year, more milkweed plants appeared and with that came the monarchs.
Another tenacious plant that migrated to this area was anise hyssop (Agastache foeniculum.) A few years ago they started to appear (no doubt from seeds in the raised-bed herb gardens on the side of Ann’s Place) and are losing their battle this year with the milkweed for dominance . Its heady licorice scent makes this member of the mint family instantly recognizable to the nose. Finally, the bee balm (Monarda) that was planted last year is sending up its flowers to ready-and-waiting bees and butterflies. This Fall I will transplant some coneflowers (Echinacea) to complement all these others pollinator-attracting plants.
Our desert has morphed into a wonderful garden that is now full of flowers, butterflies, bees and other pollinators. And none of it was really my idea. Better lucky than good.
