Gardening Topic for May 2005
Promise
for Fall: Gentiana andrewsii
(closed gentian, bottle gentian)
Provided by
the Western Massachusetts Master Gardener Association
www.wmassmastergardeners.org.
| By Christina Gabriel, Master Gardener |
|
Oh joy, they survived. I
transplanted several of my closed gentian plants at precisely the
wrong time last summer--late in the season, just as they were
beginning to flower. If not in spring, it's better to transplant
in fall, after flowering, when the energy of the plant is going
back down to its roots.
But I've done my spring raking, and, thankfully, this is a plant
that shows its new growth reassuringly under the carpet of
leaves, not like some, that make us wait nervously to see if they
come up. And they came back, despite my rude timing of moving
them. I did it in the spirit of heroism, to save them from the
upcoming construction of an extended porch. And I did it because
I love them.
I inherited a mass planting of this beautiful species from the
previous owner of our house, who stopped her car and dug a single
specimen by the roadside more than twenty years ago, when the
plant was more common. (It is now listed as threatened in
Massachusetts, and should never be collected in the wild.) On a
slope facing east, partially shaded by the house on one side and
a copse of maples on the other, and with apparently enough water
coming down the hill for this moisture-loving plant, there are
now about a hundred.
I fell in love even before I saw them flowering. The ring of the
name, "Gentian", echoing "gentle" or
"gentleman" was enough to fill me with anticipation.
And indeed this plant is handsome--gorgeous in fact--but
restrained, with flowers that never quite open.
Flowers that don't open? The clusters of five or more urn-shaped
buds swell to the point of bursting, and the bumblebees are a
sight to see going bottoms up to reach in and pollinate the
flower, legs wiggling wildly as they scramble to get at the
nectar. They are actually the only insects strong enough to
accomplish the feat, and they buzz hungrily over this late-season
food source, picking out the youngest blossoms by the small spot
of white at the tip, which later turns a deep violet. For a
glimpse of this spectacle, go to http://www.westboroughlandtrust.org/nn/nn13.htm-7k-bees
.
Gentiana andrewsii is one of 400 species in the family
Gentianaceae. It is a deciduous perennial with leaves that are
lustrous dark green and lance-shaped, one- to three-inches
long in whorls around the length of the thick stems. They grow
one- to two-feet high, and the flower clusters are a deep, almost
iridescent blue that bloom in OCTOBER! It is native from Quebec
to South Carolina and Tennessee in meadows, streamsides, and
moist woodland, blooming in shade to sun as long as the soil is
moist. According to the National Audobon Guide to North American
Wildflowers, it is "one of the easiest plants to grow in a
moist wildflower garden."
The Gentian family is named for King Gentius of ancient Illyria
(180-167 B.C.) who is said to have discovered the medicinal value
of these plants. Charles Raddin writes:
"During the reign of King Gentius, Illyria was devastated by
the plague. So great was the mortality among his subjects, the
pious king appointed a season of fasting, and prayed that if he
shot an arrow into the air the Almighty would direct its descent,
guiding it to some herb possessed of sufficient virtue to arrest
the course of the disease. The king shot the arrow and in falling
it cleft the root of a plant which, when tested, was found to
possess the most astonishing curative powers, and did much to
lessen the ravages of the plague. The plant from that time on
became known as the Gentian, in honor of the good king, whose
supplications brought about the divine manifestation of its
medicinal properties."
(See http://www.birdnature.com/oct1900/gentians.html
for this quote and more on the history, lore, and medicinal uses
of plants in the gentian family.)
Although it exists in white and in a pale form, Gentiana
andrewsii Rosa, there is nothing like gentian blue. It is the
stuff of poetry. Ken Druse, one of my favorite garden writers and
photographers, says in The Natural Shade Garden, "Gentians
are magical. I think their mystery stems from the remarkable
color of the flowers - miracle blue, the color of an old bottle,
deep and cobalt." To me it is not just the shade of blue,
but the kind of light it chooses to glow in. With the waning sun
of September and October, as we feel the first welcome cooling
air, the blossoms are like a small blue-hot flame to start
warming us from the inside for winter.
For other articles, check out our archives
Provided by
the Western Massachusetts Master Gardener Association
www.wmassmastergardeners.org