Florida Elephant's Foot

I've been remiss in keeping my nature notes this year. The first reference to Florida elephant's foot (Elephantopus elatus Bertol.) in our yard is a sketch done on July 30th, but it already had been blooming so long that I was afraid it was now or never in terms of drawing it. My notes from 2019 mention it around the end of June, which is not to say that it wasn't flowering before then. It's late August now, and the flowering is still going strong.

Florida Elephant's Foot - Individual Florets at Bottom Right

The foliage is much grayer and hairier than depicted.

Unspectacular, even slightly ungainly, Florida elephant's foot belongs to that class of plants delightful mainly to the observant eye, for it easily gets lost in a crowd. A flat rosette of coarse leaves wider at the tips than at their bases sends up grayish, wiry branching stalks which can reach up to 3 feet tall according to the books. Mine are closer to 18-24 inches. Each branchlet (in botany language a pedicel)  ends in a pyramidal structure composed of 3 overlapping bracts packed with individual disk florets. Florets are a delicate pale lavender-pink. The florets in any given head open  somewhat sequentially, not all at once, so the effect is subtle, hardly spectacular. 

Florida Elephant's Foot - Habit

                                                

The gray-green clusters and delicate florets seeming to hover untethered over lower-growing plants, or  among grasses, give the scene a wonderfully airy and ephemeral effect. My plant is being supported by the grassy leaves of spiderwort ( Tradescantia ohiensis). Spiderwort isn't native to this part of Florida, but does pretty well - in fact, too well at times. I will have to thin this batch to keep it from overshadowing and outcompeting the elephant's foot. I suppose elephant's foot would have to be staked in a more formal garden, but loosely, so as not to destroy its peculiar charm.

There are 4 species of Elephantopus native to Florida, but elatus, the "tall elephant's foot," is the only one that occurs in SW Florida. This species is found in throughout most of Florida and parts of Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia and South Carolina. In Florida its status is "Threatened." It can take rather dry to reasonably moist situations, and is commonly found in pine flatwoods.The Florida Native Plant Society lists it as a "short-lived perennial." 

Though it is quite drought-hardy, and used to sandy soils, I find that the plant does better in our hot yard with a little moisture and shade. I don't need to water it in its present place where it gets runoff from the eaves and protection from the afternoon sun, but the ones I planted elsewhere, in full unabated sunlight, died out. 

A Head and Ray Florets
(I've rotated this photo several times and still can't figure out which end is up)

Over time, Florida elephant's foot will form clumps, like many plants in the Aster Family. It also grows from seed. In our yard it goes dormant in the dry season, disappearing entirely until the rains resume.

Though it works wonderfully blended with other plants, a large plot of Elephantopus alone in bloom is quite and quietly spectacular. When he was still in high school my much younger brother tilled up a section near the woods to grow corn. The raccoons got most of the corn, but there obviously was a dormant seedbank for elephant's foot, because it flourished in that spot thereafter. More than 40-50 years later, there are still scattered plants there in spite of repeated disturbance. In fact, the plant in our yard is a descendent of these north-Florida individuals.

Colony of Elephant's Foot  under Serenoa repens
Naples Preserve

Florida elephant's foot doesn't seem overly attractive to butterflies, but is very popular with wasps and bees. The photo below shows what I believe to be a spider wasp nectaring. Spider wasps paralyze spiders and inter them as food for their larvae. They can manipulate a spider far larger than they are themselves. Though they can sting, they usually aren't aggressive. This one didn't mind my getting up close. 

Florida elephant's foot is so named because from overhead, the outline of the basal rosette supposedly resembles the footprint of an elephant. That takes some imagination. For one thing, the elephant would have to have toes  all around its foot, not just in the front. 

A garden full of divas would be pretty jarring and incoherent. It needs a complement of modest and unassuming plants like Florida elephant's foot to furnish the backdrop so the stars can shine.

Clean Sweep

I've never managed to keep a  neat garden, and neighbors and walkers tell me they like my flowers. Still, I worry that the subtext is, "Your yard is an unholy mess, but at least it's colorful." Finally, old age, an arm injury still lingering after cleaning up after Irma in 2017, and my general sleaze coalesced into the proverbial "perfect storm" landscape-wise, and I had to hire somebody to clear-cut the mess.

Chaos is the Opposite of a Garden

Phyla nodiflora, "Fogfruit," makes a wonderful flowering natvie ground cover that attracts many pollinators, the lovely white peacock butterfly included. It was invading the driveway, and  had crept, kudzu-like, over a stack of paving blocks, 6 bags of mulch, and a patch of wickedly spiny agave, itself out of control even though I had been attacking it regularly.

Phyla nodiflora - Good Pollinator Plant

Sea purslane, Sesuvium portulacastrum, another desirable native ground cover,  was smothering a pot of lotus and a nice patch of Heliotropium amplexicaule. It also presented a bad tripping hazard for anybody brave enough to make a foray into the "jungle." Thickets of scorpion-tail, scattered scarlet sage, and blue porterweed competed for light. Swaths of gaillardias and mounds of dune sunflower were flopping over onto the neighbor's driveway. The gravel swale, where I had nourished the fond idea of creating a meadow of blue-eyed grass (Sisyrinchium angustifolium), was instead a mess of moisture-loving opportunists. A dead palm tree and deformed Red Geiger, both courtesy of Hurricane Irma, completed the picture of utter surrender.

Even the rosiest of glasses couldn't mask the reality. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and I called a garden center to restore the bare bones of  the landscape. Two truckloads of debris and over a hundred bags of mulch later, we have one of the neatest and most cared-for yard on the street, which has its pluses, but is not exactly my ideal garden.

New Look for the Front Yard

Although the yard hardly is bare, the new space comes with a cost beyond what the garden center charged. For years our yard has been one of the very few landscapes in our neighborhood to offer  significant amenities of pesticide-free shelter, food and water for animals. Now in its rather barren state those amenities, especially the shelter, are much-reduced.

 However, we do not want to return to what it had become, which was by no means a garden. One thing I have learned is that the garden is as much about space as it is about plants. Without space,  there is no focal point, no rest for the eye or the soul. If the garden is neither  pleasant for walking or viewing, it is a failure, regardless of the beauty of individual plants. The very word "garden" signals the imposition of some kind of order. A  "wild garden" is a contradiction in terms.

So now, I have to recreate some of the lost habitat without losing the harmony of the space. As the old plants begin to resurface through the mulch, I have to organize them into well-defined beds, augmented perhaps with potted specimens. The self-discipline to pull out the surplus will be hard for me to maintain, but if I don't, the mess will re-establish itself quickly. That should provide motivation enough, because the yard really had become horrible and impassable.

Pots for Color

Given the fact that the yard is so small, I also need to ensure that the majority of the plants do more than one job. The agaves don't exactly fit that requirement, though dragonflies like to perch on their upright leaves, and pollinators love the flowers when they appear finally. But we both love the sculptural quality of the plants. A Red Geiger volunteer seedling will fill the space left by the agaves, and all will have enough room for the next several years. Though not a native, the Geiger will be a multi-purpose asset, and deserves its own post.

Wish me luck!

Coco Plum

More residents and tourists alike in South Florida probably have seen coco plum (Chrysobalanus icaco) more than any other Florida native plant. That's not because it is rampant in nature, but because it is the plant of choice for parking lot hedges more often than not. You don't have to get too far south of Tampa before it starts turning up in every McDonald's, Wendy's, and other fast food emporia, as well as home landscapes. It's too bad in a way that it makes such an excellent hedge, because left untrimmed and uncrowded it can become a very attractive shrub or small tree.

Recently-Planted Hedge Showing Red New Growth 

That it can survive these urban situations and the constant trimming by the mow-and-go gangs says a lot about its toughness. In fact, it occurs naturally in both salty and dry environments like the back of beach sand dunes and in inland swamps.

Chrysobalanaceae is a fairly small family with 400-500 species, and occurs mostly in tropical and subtropical climates. Coco plum is one of 2 species that occurs in the U.S., the other being gopher apple (Licania michauxii). Its range in Florida is limited roughly to frost free areas, or areas that experience below freezing temperatures for only very short times.

The evergreen leaves are mainly obovate ( narrow at base, very rounded at top) or orbicular (nearly circular). Some of the leaves have a slightly pointed tip. Leaves are smooth, tough and leathery. They occur alternately on the branch, with a very upright, even overlapping posture. New growth on the type most commonly seen here is reddish.

Chrysobalanus icaco - Leaf Posture, New Growth

Coco plum produces clusters of flowers in the angles between leaves and stem, and is blooming now. The tiny white flowers are said to be fragrant, but I can't detect a lot of scent from my neighbor's hedge. Perhaps the yard crew trims off too many of the flowers. Depending on the type, the round fruit is either purple or yellowish- white. I have seen a form with  pink fruit in a section of the Rookery Bay Reserve near where I live.

Pink-fruited Form

The fruits are edible. One source describes them as sweet and juicy, but the few I have tried have been pretty bland. Some people make jellies and jams from them. They are an important source of food for wildlife, and were/are important  in the diet of Florida's indigenous peoples. The fruits contain a single seed, which also is edible, and is oily enough to sustain a small flame. Seeds are dispersed via animal droppings or by water, flowing downstream from fresh habitats, or in ocean currents.

Fruits start out green, then turn reddish, and finally reach their full color. According to Dr. Daniel Austin a tea made from the bark or roots has been used to treat dysentery and as a general tonic.

Young Fruits

Younger stems are cinnamon brown with numerous lenticels - raised pithy and porous growths that aid in gas exchange.

Stem with Lenticels and Ripe Fruits

Sources:

Peggy Sias Lantz. Florida's Edible Wild Plants. Seaside Publishing. 2014.
Dr. Daniel Austin. Coastal Dune Plants. Gumbo Limbo Nature Center of Palm Beach County. 1991.
Daniel Austin
Walter Kingsley Taylor. Florida Wildflowers in Their Natural Communities. University Press of Florida. 1998.
Gil Nelson. The Shrubs and Woody Vines of Florida. Pineapple Press. 1996.

Blackroot

Blackroot, Pterocaulon pycnostachym (Michz.) Elliott is a Florida native that doesn't usually attract much attention, but develops into a beautiful garden plant given a little TLC. In scrub, especially, it can look pretty sorry, but the fact that it survives at all in that habitat is evidence of its incredible tenacity. It also grows in pine flatwoods. It occurs throughout Florida except in a few of the northern and western counties, and mainland Monroe County, which is mostly swamp.  Since these areas are sparsely settled, even now, it may be that the plant grows there but has not been vouchered officially.

It's a perennial, and it does have a big black root. Its main charm is its foliage, not its flowers. "Not showy" is sort of an understatement, though the bloom spikes themselves are quite interesting. It is a member of the Aster family. Flower heads grow in a spiral around a long, rather spongy and felty stalk at the ends of branches. There are only disc florets, not petal-like ray flowers. The flowers themselves are pale white turning brown with age. Aster flowers  don't have a traditional green calyx. Instead, they have a ring of persistent chaff-like hairs (pappus) at the bottom. The pappus often aids in seed dispersal. Milkweed seeds are attached to a similar structure, though it is not related to the calyx. As the achenes (dry fruit consisting of a hard outer coating surrounding a single seed) mature, the pappi can become very noticeable. Blackroot's interesting texture and form, beautiful leaves and strange stems more than compensate for the bland flowers.

Numerous disc florets and pappi

One of the most interesting thing about the plant is its decurrent leaf bases. The leaves are not stalked, but attached directly to the stem, and the base of each leaf extends like a wing down the stem until it is interrupted by a different leaf, which starts the process anew. This gives the plant an even more 3-dimensional look, and certainly adds interest. The stems are soft and pithy, turning more woody with age. Pruning old, dry stems keeps the plants looking their best.

StemStudies

The veins, pronounced on the back of the leaves, show up as a delicate  white ornamental tracery on the top side. A dense layer of hairs that appear like a network of cobwebs under magnification make the green leaves look gray, silvery, or just blindingly colorless in sunshine. The undersides of the leaves are more cream-colored than green. The leaves are alternate, and their edges are slightly notched.

Detail of Veins, Pressed Leaf, Leaf Rubbing, Color Trials

Beautiful rose-pink new growth is also one of the plant's charms. The coloration appears on new leaves, flower spikes, and even stems.

Pterocaulon pyncnostachium is very tough, and can grow in extreme drought and sun, or in more moist and shady conditions. It also can be grown in a pot. In my yard it goes dormant or semi-dormant in winter, probably due more to lack of water than cold temperatures. It is not troubled by insects or diseases. Its stems grow both upright and in gentle arcs. It really is a very desirable plant for a naturalistic garden, but does not seem to be readily available. I got my plant from a friend, sadly no longer living, who had a small native plant nursery.

Pterocaulon pyncnostachium - "Blackroot"

An herbal concoction called "Blackroot" is available commercially . This is not made from the same plant, but instead, is a preparation of Veronicastrum virginicum, also called "Culver's Root." Just one more example of why scientific names are a good idea.


Text, illustrations, photos by Jeanette Lee Atkinson

Elliott's Aster

Elliott's Aster, Aster elliottii, (or now Symphyotrichum elliottii) is still blooming, though not as robustly as a month ago. For me it usually flowers in late fall through early winter, but if spring were not so dry here it probably would keep going for one more season. It is one of my favorite native plants, even if I constantly have to contend with its expansionist tendencies.

I was playing around with the concept of "negative painting" in this loose sketch.

 Though it seeds profusely, in moist or wet soil it spreads enthusiastically by rhizomes to form dense colonies. An individual plant starts out from a basal rosette, which by and large disappears as the plant matures. Plants reach 2and one half to 5 feet tall. Mine never get more than 3 feet tall, probably because they don't get any extra water. (They grow in a section of the yard that stays relatively damp most of the year). Spring is windy and hot here, and my asters go fairly dormant until the rains return in summer, when I have to start pulling them out to contain their spread.

Bottom Part of Plant - Basal Rosette Has Disappeared

 Heads are produced at the ends of stalks and branches. They consist of both ray and disk flowers. The ray flowers are a purplish-lavender. The ray flowers in our plants are quite pale, but can be considerably darker in others.

 Leaves are alternate and lance-shaped, with the widest part near the tip (oblanceolate). They become progressively smaller as you move up the stem. The leaf margins have teeth.


I allow Elliott's aster a little corner of the front yard. Perhaps I should let it take over, but I don't find it that attractive out of bloom - just a thicket of green. However, a colony of Elliott's aster in bloom puts on a real show.

Colony of Elliott's Aster in Bloom- Photo by Jeanette Lee Atkinson

The plant  is named for Stephen Elliott (1771-1830), a fascinating and remarkably accomplished individual. He was born and died in South Carolina, and was educated at Yale. He enjoyed a productive career in the South Carolina legislature, where he was instrumental in passing laws establishing a public school system and a state bank. He was a major influence in the creation of the Medical College of South Carolina, where he lecturerd on natural history and botany.

Like many educated people of his day, he was an avid natural scientist, and corresponded with leading colleagues in both the U.S. and Europe. His  A Study of the Botany of South-Carolina and Georgia, which appeared  between 1816 and 1824, is considered one of the most important botanical works in the United States. (This biographical information is taken from an article by George Rogers in the South Carolina Encyclopedia, www.scencyclopedia.org/sce/entries/elliott-stephen).

Elliott was so respected that the genus Elliottia was named after him. In Florida alone no fewer than 12 plants have his name as their species epithet. One of the most beautiful, Elliott's love grass, Eragrostis elliottii is shown below.

Elliott's Lovegrass - Jeanette Lee Atkinson

Elliott's aster occurs in moist conditions throughout the southeast and west through Louisiana. It is very popular with pollinators, and it never has suffered from insects or diseases in our yard. It lasts a reasonable time as a cut flower.

Elliott's Aster, Top Part of Plant, Graphite Pencil

Summertime Blues 2 - Blue Butterflies

More summertime blues - (although they fly all year) - are tiny butterflies. The Cassius Blue and Ceraunus Blue butterflies breed in the yard, and it's possible that we have had visits from Eastern Pygmy Blues, since we are not far from the salt marshes where they and their larval plants thrive.

Generally the Florida Blues fly very close to the ground. Their flight is fast and erratic, and they don't seem to perch long enough for me to id them. Blink and you'll miss them. Their underwings are drab, and they fold their wings when perching. But you glimpse flashes of startling blue when they flutter to another spot.

They are tiny butterflies. The Ceraunus Blue has a maximum wingspan of  0.7 - 1.2 inches. The Cassius Blue is the same size or a little larger at the bottom range. The Eastern Pygmy Blue, one of the tiniest butterflies in the world, maxes out at  0.7 -0.9 inches.

They are among the "Gossamer-Winged" butterflies, and the delicate iridiscent blue of their upper wings makes that a very apt description. Black and white banded antennae are another characteristic of butterflies in this family, Lycaenidae, which also contains the Hairstreaks.

Ceraunus Blues and Neptunia pubescens

The Ceraunus Blue is quite common in Florida. It breeds as far north as central Florida, west to Texas and California, and south to Central America and the West Indies. Both males and females have one eyespot on each hindwing. The eyespot is quite prominent on the underside of the wing because it is large in relation to the size of the butterfly, and partially ringed with bright orange. Males are a shimmery true blue on top, while females are darker and can appear almost black.

Garden abundance of Ceraunus Blues is said to be low, but we seem to have a resident population. One of its larval host plants is Neptunia pubescens, "Tropical Puff" or "Yellow Puff."  We have a large clump or colony on one side of the driveway. This prostrate spreading legume has a delicate fern-like appearance due to its bipinnately compound leaves and tiny leaflets. When it thrives it arches and tumbles all over itself, and from a distance looks dense. However its fine texture does allow grasses, sedges and other weeds to invade it, so it requires a little maintenance - no water.

When it gets ratty looking I cut it back to the ground, and it regenerates beautifully. Indeed, care should be used in introducing it into the garden because it can be difficult to eradicate. Surrounded by concrete and brick, ours is pretty well neutralized, but I do need to trim it periodically to keep it out of the roadway. Neptunia is a "sensitive" plant, and the leaflets collapse as soon as they are touched - that poses some problems in drawing it!

The butterflies lay their eggs on the flower buds. The eggs, larvae and pupae are so tiny I've never been able to find even one. Neptunia flowers occur in "powder puff" heads, with bright yellow petals and numerous stamens. It doesn't produce enough flowers at one time to be truly showy, but evidently it flowers enough to sustain the Blues.

Perching Cassius Blues can be identified by the "zebra" striping on their underwings. This may be hard to see in my photo, but I can't enlarge it more without losing even more detail. They have 2 eyespots on the hindwing. Both sexes are blue on their topwings, though the female is paler wiith more brown than the male. This species is common throughout Florida, excluding the panhandle. They also range from south Texas, the West Indies, and south to Argentina.

Cassius Blue on Plumbago scandens

They lay their eggs on various legume and leadwort species. I used to have more of them because I grew the Florida native Plumbago scandens. This plant is problematic in the yard because it  resists training and scrambles over anything and everything in its path. Its small white flowers are attractive, but the buds and seed pods are extremely sticky, and if you or your pet gets them tangled in hair/fur, the only solution is to cut them out. I took out most of it, but one plant somehow escaped my grim reaping, so I am going to try once again to train, or at least contain it, just for the butterflies.

Milkpea (see my Jan.8, 18 post), a plant I vainly try to eradicate in the yard, is another larval host for Cassius and Ceraunus Blues. I called a temporary truce until  they had a chance to bring up a brood or two, but the milkpea is getting totally out of control in some places, so that's going to end soon.

Blues like to nectar on Phyla nodiflora, "Fogfruit," among other flowers. Phyla is also a magnet for the beautiful White Peacock butterfly, which uses it as a larval host. This plant, another member of the Verbena family so popular with pollinators, can be trained into a beautiful hanging basket. One of my brothers had a trick of looping the flower stalk around itself and then sliding it up quickly to pop off the head. He used to shoot the heads at me while we waited for the school bus. I tried, but never managed the snap.

Phyla nodiflora and Ceraunus Blue

Sources: Butterflies through Binoculars: A Field, Finding and Gardening Guide to Butterflies in Florida. Glassberg, Minno & Calhoun. Oxford U. Press, 2000. Plate 16 and facing page, pp. 78-81.

Florida Butterfly Gardening. Minno & Minno. U. Press of Florida, 1999. pp. 75-77.

Florida's Fabulous Butterflies. Emmel & Kenney. World Publications, 1997. pp. 18-19.

Weeds I Like IV - Spigelia anthelmia

I love the weed Spigelia anthelmia, "West Indian Pinkroot," for its combination of grace and energy. The arch of its stems and its dramatically veined leaves make it stand out, even in a sea of green. Some plants are taxing to draw, no matter how beautiful. But I always find great pleasure in sketching Spigelia, because I can have fun with it. It really lends itself to exuberant gesture drawings.

Spigelia anthelmia, West Indian Pinkroot

The pinkish tinge in the roots of the plant depicted above is a trick of my very inexpert Photoshop Elements editing. Otherwise I never have found anything evenly remotely pink about the roots of this plant. "Pinkroot" seems to be a frequent common name for plants in this genus, so I assume that the roots of at least one species are, indeed, pink.

The species epithet "anthelmia" indicates that this plant will kill worms, and it is used for that purpose where it is either native or naturalized. However, the leaves are highly toxic, so it's not anything for amateurs to try.  Spigelia anthelmia  is a component of several homeopathic remedies available on the Internet, and said to be useful in treating headache, migraine, nerve pain, sinus discomfort, constipation and indigestion, among other ailments.

The plant is native to Florida, the West Indies, and the New World tropics, and naturalized in many Old World tropical climates. It is a member of the family Loganiaceae, which also contains Gelsemium sempervirens, "Carolina or yellow jessamine," a beautiful but toxic vine native to much of the US, and the "strychnine tree," Strychnos nux-vomica, of India and SE Asia. Not a family you want to mess around with too casually!

Leaves and Flowering Spikes

Spigelia anthelmia can grow as an annual or perennial, and in our yard is most common in spring and summer. It likes moisture, and pops up most frequently in the gravel swale, the lowest, and hence, wettest part of the yard. The rock also keeps the roots cool. The swale is right under the utility lines, so all manner of interesting things can crop up there.

Pencil Sketch

This plant flowers, but its habit and foliage are the real attention-getters. Stems are upright, usually with some curvature, and topped with 2 pairs of dark green opposite leaves. One pair of leaves typically is larger than the other. The plant can reach 23 inches in height, but the ones in our yard are shorter. Leaves can be anything from 2 to 6 inches long, and three-quarters to 3 inches wide.

The top surface of the leaves is textured like fine-grit sandpaper. "Scabridulous" is a lovely botanical term for that. ( I tried to count the number of words in botanical Latin for varioius degrees and forms of hairness/thorniness, but there were so many that I gave up). The undersides of the leaves are smoother and paler green, with prominently raised veins. Stems may be single or several, branched or unbranched.

Flowering spikes emerge from the junction of the leaves, and produce flowers and seeds on one side only. The flowers open from the bottom up. They are very small, and white with maroon stripes. The petals are joined in the corolla tube. I think the flower buds resemble phillips-head screwdrivers. The flowers are only about 3/8 inch long, and about half as wide.

Spigelia anthelmia buds and immature seed pods

Open Flowers

The seed pods are warty, and turn gray brown when mature. Seeds are shiny and black, and are expelled with some force.

A relative, Spigelia marilandica, which has a much wider distribution in the US, is far showier. Its flowers are red with yellow interior, and also considerably larger. In Florida it occurs only in the panhandle.

Yes, South Florida Has Seasons!

People often lament that there are no seasons in Florida, especially South Florida. I’ll admit they are subtle, but they do exist. The big divide is wet vs. dry, but there are other changes as well. October is a transitional month - it may be wet, dry, or both. For us here on the coast, the rain faucet was turned off the second week of October, and I have used just about all of the rainwater I managed to save during the summer. Bright, breezy days dry plants out in a hurry.

It definitely gets noticeably cooler and drier after September. Though we can have hot and humid days all year, the relative humidity does drop in the fall, and it just doesn't "feel" like summer any more. We can turn off the air conditioning and open the windows again. What a liberation! Skies tend to be a more intense blue, as the summer haze disappears. 

 One of the first signs of autumn – the arrival of huge swarms of blackbirds and starlings - makes me very melancholy.  They swarm like something out of  Hitchcock, lining up on the power lines by the hundreds, or making sweeps of open lots and lawns. I could live with the blackbirds, because they are at least native, but I hate the destructiveness of the ever-increasing hordes of starlings. We have starlings all year,  but our summer numbers are augmented by northern migrants.

Another sign of autumn is the same as “up north.” The asters start blooming. The Elliott’s Asters in our front yard got so blown and burned by Irma that they may not bloom this year, but late summer and autumn definitely are glory time for many members of the Asteraceae. 

Aster elliottii - Elliott's Aster

Elliott's Aster is a diminutive plant, with heads no larger than a dime. You need a clump to have any garden impact, but that is not hard given the plant's suckering habit. In fact, unless you have room to spare, you will be pulling out plants regularly to keep it within bounds. The plant occurs naturally in swampy or marshy places. It grows in a lower area of my garden, which stays more moist than the rest, but is scarcely swampy unless we have a particularly wet summer. During the winter, when we get little rain, it may go dormant and disappear entirely, the way northern perennials do to survive cold weather. In spite of its eagerness to take over the garden, it really is a charming plant, and various pollinators love it.

Autumn is the time Florida's beautiful native grasses come into bloom.

 The chalky-silver/blue-green blades of Elliott's Lovegrass, Eragrostis elliottii, make it lovely even out of bloom. In late summer to early fall it sends up hundreds of tall, delicate, multi-branched bloom stalks that first bear tiny flowers, and later multiple seed heads (spikelets). In full bloom the plant seems to be covered with a fine white or golden-beige mist. I don't water it, so it turns brown, and may even disappear during winter. Maybe this year I will water one clump to see whether the foliage will persist. It will make a clump about 2-3 feet wide and tall. My only complaint with this plant is that its brittle seed stalks break off and tumble in the wind. They always want to blow in the door when I go in and out, and they have the very irritating habit of working their way up my pants leg. It's impossible to fish them out without taking my trousers off. A real nuisance! But worth it.

The blooms of Pink Muhly Grass, Muhlenbergia capillaris, are even more delicate and diffuse than those of Elliott's Love grass. Muhly grass comes into bloom a little later, though the showy times overlap. Muhly grass is one of our most beautiful native grasses. It likes seasonal moisture with  a winter dry-down, so it is perfect for my yard. It has a more vase-like form than Elliott's love grass, and also grows taller.

The rising or setting sun shining through the flowers gives a golden sheen to their  pink/purple coloration - one of the many beautiful sights provided by Florida native plants.

Fall  is mating time for the ospreys. Their melodic, piercing chirps and squeals mark the early mornings and early evenings. They are in the sky a lot, performing their aerial displays. This year the ospreys have more work than usual, since many of their nests were destroyed when Hurricane Irma toppled trees, power poles, and channel markers.

Migratory birds start arriving, Palm Warblers being among the first.

 To quote  Morton C. Winsberg, Florida Weather. (University of Central Florida Press, 1990, page 26): "{Those} who find Florida's climate monotonous ...might learn to use criteria other than temperature to differentiate one season from another." There are lots of signs that summer is over - we just have to get outside and look around us.

Carphephorus corymbosus (Chaffhead) - A Florida Native Plant in the Aster Family