2 minute read
Elegant Indigos
If there were royalty in the house of native landscaping, the indigos (HRH Baptisia) would be sitting squarely on the throne. Indigos are always top performers for longevity, top for reliability, best of show, best for bumblebees (and children), and furthest flung. Where do I begin?
First I should mention that Baptisia species are often referred to as false or wild indigo. False because it is related to true indigo (the plant that renders blue dye), and wild, I guess, because it was never row cropped like true indigo. But Baptisia deserves a place on the cover of coffee table books. It shouldn’t play second fiddle to indigo, it deserves a loftier ranking, or even a name all to its own, like candelabra. Now there’s a plant name I could warm up to.
White wild indigo, (possibly great candelabra), Baptisia alba, is big—at times, growing four or 5 feet tall. It has spires of white flowers in June and July, that are bumblebee magnets. Hummingbirds are fond of it as well. Its ropey roots drill deep into the soil, making it drought-tolerant and long-lived. In December, the dead stem with attached branches becomes a farflung tumbleweed, bouncing across the garden or prairie.
Blue wild indigo, (how about cerulean candelabra), Baptisia australis, is the darling of many native landscapes. It varies in size, depending on the variety. Variety (abbreviated var.) minor may be two or three feet tall with small leaflets, whereas other varieties are bigger. It has cobalt blue flowers in late April and early May, and grows best in full sun. Like white indigo, its pods are respectable substitutes for childen’s rattles. Blue indigo is a nice companion plant for shining blue star (Amsonia illustris), golden Alexander (Zizia aurea), and Bradbury beebalm (Monarda bradburiana).
Smaller still is yellow wild in- digo (elegant candelabra), Baptisia sphaerocarpa, topping out at 24 to 30 inches tall and wide. It grows upright in full sun and bends sideways in light shade. It blooms in April. It attracts Genista broom moth caterpillars, which in turn, feed baby birds, though they diminish the foliage. A good companion planting for this one is wild strawberry (Fragaria virginiana), which fills in when foliage retreats, and itself retreats when the yellow wild indigo is at its best.
Cream wild indigo (weeping candelabra), Baptisia bracteata, has creamy yellow flowers on graceful pendulous stalks. It is low-growing and thrives in dry, well-drained soil, and in full sun to part shade. Unfortunately, it is not tolerant of alkaline soil. It requires an acidic soil, ideally in the range of pH 5-6. Other showy dry and acid-loving companion plants include goats rue (Tephrosia virginiana), lead plant (Amorpha canescens), and late purple aster (Symphyotrichum patens).
Birds have official common
Scott Woodbury
names, and as far as I am aware, they do not include the use of the words wild or weed—not that they would. All North American birds are wild, and weeds are plants, not birds. But it makes me wonder why birding is such a beloved pastime. Could it be that there aren’t any derogatory names in my birding book. I don’t see a reference to noisy crows, greedy Robins, soiling geese, or over-productive starlings.
The same may be true for traditional gardening. Non-native gardeners peruse rows and rows of plants with appealing and seductive names like ‘Sunshine Superman’, ‘Screaming Yellow’, and ‘Happy Returns’. The native plant row bears the names false indigo, clammyweed, ironweed, liverwort, sneezeweed, milkweed, horsemint, creeper, spreading, trailing, and knotweed. It’s no wonder that native landscaping gets a bad rap by so many, and that native plants are so often categorized as weeds. They’re actually still called weeds, after hundreds of years since being named.
So I propose here a few complimentary common names. Names that elevate Baptisia to the place where it deserves to be. On the top of the list of celebrated species, where it perhaps should be. Happy gardening, y’all!