Cory's Baked Native Garden

Today was the hottest June day in Washington, DC in recorded history, at 104 degrees F.  It's been over 100 degrees F. for a couple of days now here in Northern Virginia, and I'm watching as my native garden bakes. Leaves are drooping, flowers are turning brown, and not even early morning watering perks them up. I'm watching four years of planning, purchasing, planting and nurturing native plants as they wilt, and I'm wondering if they will be hardy enough to withstand this assault. I'm hoping that, as natives accustomed to this climate, they have programmed in their genetic code a mechanism to protect themselves from this dry heat.  And if the leaves and flowers don't hang on, will there be time this season for the plants to grow new leaves and flowers?

I tout the benefits of growing native plants to my neighbors, and one of the selling points I use is that the plants don't need as much care, don't need as much water, don't need fertilizer, because they have adapted to our soil and climate over thousands of years. I guess what we're going to see is how well they handle an extended period of dry heat.

We just got hit with a frightening and severe thunderstorm tonight, a rare weather event called a Derecho, which is sort of a long, horizontal tornado, fueled by dry heat on the front side and cooler rain on the back side. The derecho caused a huge, multi-state swath of downed trees, deaths and power outages. Hundreds of thousands of households, businesses and government agencies lost power for days. We were very lucky in our home to have no damage, but there were trees snapped off like toothpicks, with at least 5 trees blocking streets within 5 blocks of our house.  We hosted one family seeking refuge from their unbearably hot house, and others stopped by to charge phones and cook food to use it up before it went bad.  Actually, I observed a great deal of  camaraderie and cooperation among neighbors over the last few days.  The storm brought the temperature down about 20 degrees in 20 minutes, but the temperatures are going to stay in the mid- to high 90s for the next nine days. Poor plants. Poor bugs. Poor birds. Poor mammals.  We shall see how this all turns out.

Evening Primrose Puzzle: One of These Things is Not Like the Others

Evening Primrose, Oenothera biennis. Photo by Cory Giacobbe

Perhaps among the Evening Primroses, Oenothera biennis, you see one stalk that is just a bit taller, the leaves are a bit longer, less shiny? That’s because one single Black-eyed Susan, Rudbeckia hirta, insisted on moving in with them last fall after an aggressive clump of perennial Black-eyed Susan, Rudbeckia fulgida ‘Goldsturm’ (purchased at Home Depot in a moment of weakness when the native R. hirta, a more delicate biennial, was taking too long to establish itself) took over their spot and kicked them out. Now single R. hirta shoots are popping up here and there, exiled, tentatively trying out new spots to colonize.  The goldfinches loved the R. hirta, so I hope they make a comeback somewhere.

Meanwhile, the Evening Primroses just keep getting taller and denser each year. This native biennial wildflower is a favorite of bumble bees. It’s said to be edible for humans too.  The Sacred Earth Ethnobotany and Ecotravel website claims that the roots of the first year plants are good to eat and posts a couple of recipes. The seeds are said to have many healing properties, but they are too small to harvest in a usable quantity. The flowers are nice in a salad, although I haven’t tried it yet.  The leaves are also edible, but no recipes were offered.

Carpenter Bee on Evening Primrose. Photo by Cory Giacobbe

Evening Primroses are more than just a drop-dead gorgeous plant. They are tough little guys and very easy to grow.  According to the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, they are valuable to wildlife as well. The flowers attract moths, and hold special value for native bees. The seeds are eaten by birds, and small mammals eat the roots and leaves of young plants. The flowers of this plant are said to open at night, stay open in the morning and then close up in the mid-day heat. So far mine have been closed in the morning and slowly open throughout the day. I’ll keep an eye on them to see if they start to behave like a normal primrose as the summer progresses.