[First a housekeeping note: after today, The Bees’ Knees will be shifting from a weekly to an “occasional” publication schedule. All is well and I’ll continue sharing articles, which I hope will continue to inspire native plant adventures. I’m simply anticipating a busy phase ahead and the need to post a bit less frequently. Timetables aside, thank you so much for the privilege of your subscriptions!]
To the German speakers out there: is there a word for the mashup of delight and distress that occurs when spring blooms arrive too early? If so, that’s how I’m feeling about reports of cherry trees blossoming on the Mall in DC. A stroll around my neighborhood yesterday morning evoked the same mixed emotions. Cabin-Fever Me is encouraged to see signs of spring approaching, especially among our native species. Ecology Me is worried about the meaning behind the season’s premature arrival.
Signs there are aplenty, though, starting with the tree canopy.
Most of us don’t consider maples flowering trees, but think again! Native bees rely heavily on the early blossoms of red maples (Acer rubrum). Photo by Lolly Jewett.
Another maple – either red or silver (Acer saccharinum), I’m not quite sure – fluffing out its floral offerings. Photo by Lolly Jewett.
This eastern redbud (Cercis canadensis) isn’t quite ready to pop. You can already see, though, that those buds don’t stand on ceremony. While most tree species insist on blossoming only from the ends of new shoots, redbuds flower wherever the heck they feel like it, including straight from woody stems and branches. The botanical term for this party-starts-here attitude is “cauliflory.” Photo by Lolly Jewett.
The distinctively slender, awl-shaped buds of American beech (Fagus grandifolia). Photo by Lolly Jewett.
The jaunty onion-dome buds of flowering dogwood (Cornus florida). Photo by Lolly Jewett.
Closer to eye-level, various shrubs appeared to be emerging from slumber.
Highbush blueberry (Vaccinium corymbosum). Blueberries are an underrated ornamental shrub on looks alone. Plus they bear sweet gifts! Photo by Lolly Jewett.
An oakleaf hydrangea (Hydrangea quercifolia) stretching out a tender new leaf. Photo by Lolly Jewett.
From this perspective, an American rhododendron (Rhododendron maximum) looks almost tropical. Photo by Lolly Jewett.
Buds and catkins of an American hazelnut (Corylus americana). Photo by Lolly Jewett.
There was lots to admire at ground level, too.
Woodland stonecrop (Sedum ternatum) venturing forth in a protected spot. Photo by Lolly Jewett.
Foamflowers (Tiarella cordifolia) have multi-hued and semi-evergreen foliage that’s hard to beat. Photo by Lolly Jewett.
Cutleaf coneflower (Rudbeckia laciniata) plotting its takeover of the garden. Photo by Lolly Jewett.
The early arrival of spring is a gift with strings attached: it reminds us of the urgent need to create resilient and biodiverse landscapes.
What native species are blooming, or fixing to bloom, in your neck of the woods?
There are a few clips in here of Mick Jagger dressed in blue with a yellow pinny. Is it just me or does he appear to be warming up for jazzercise class?
If you live in the DC vicinity and could use assistance with sustainable landscaping, visit Bees’ Knees Design. I’d be happy to help you.
Good point. Garlic mustard is an insidious invasive, so get to it now while it's visible. I haven't tried it myself but I've heard it's actually pretty tasty and even makes a good pesto. If you gotta pull it up, might as well get some use out of it!
Good point. Garlic mustard is an insidious invasive, so get to it now while it's visible. I haven't tried it myself but I've heard it's actually pretty tasty and even makes a good pesto. If you gotta pull it up, might as well get some use out of it!
Everyone is so pleasantly surprised when they first taste garlic mustard. They immediately smile in recognition and amazement.