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.

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Provided by the Western Massachusetts Master Gardener Association
www.wmassmastergardeners.org