Enthusiasm for wildflower gardening, especially in the form of a wildflower corner or path, is definitely increasing. Actually, little is needed to start such a planting.
Often, the best spot for it is the troublemaker of the place. At our cottage, there was a gully that vexed us for years. It was ugly, pitifully barren, and bare. During rainy weather, it was scoured by floods. Drought cracked it and dried it unmercifully. It was always an eyesore.
However, it did have some advantages. Trees grew above it, Mountain laurel and rosebay rhododendron, clung here and there precariously to its sides but never in it.
At the top of the gully, between the trees and the laurel, a path made its way for 15 or 20 yards, to the little lawn and cultivated flowers above.
How We Saved Our Rhododendron And The Laurel
To save our rhododendron and the laurel, we began to pile masses of autumn leaves on the ground above the gully a few years ago. The result was immediate and surprising. The leaves held much of the moisture that previously had run off.
The broad-leaved evergreens responded at once as their surface-feeding rootlets were shaded and fed by the decaying leaves.
Moreover, a touch of green showed here and there in the gully itself, which was the first hint of growth we had seen there.
Within a year, one or two wildflowers showed up — false Solomon’s-seal, for one, and then the may apples. Where they came from, we never knew. Yet there they were.
That same fall, goldenrod blossomed, as did one spray of white wood-asters. Nothing had been planted or seeded there. All came from the leaf mulch.
Turning The Gully Into A Wildflower Corner
But more than these few flowers sprang from the mulch. From its evident fertility naturally followed our thought of turning the gully into a wildflower corner.
The idea grew as we looked the place over and found it feasible.
Our Assets Were:
- All the leafmold we needed at no cost.
- Existing trees for shade are white pine, swamp maple, sweet birch, hickory, and oak.
- Shrubs — mountain laurel and- rose-bays already established.
- The possibility of a little winding pathway between the head of the gully and our lawn above.
- Best of all, proof that a few wildflowers, at least, would grow there. Had they not started growing there of their own accord?
Liabilities Include:
- The still washed-out, steep gully pitch.
- Complete lack of water, apart from rain.
- A noticeable lack of topsoil or humus of any sort, although the rotted leaves had begun to remedy that condition.
- The difficulties of the budget. There was no question of ordering a wild garden, delivered, prepaid, at so much a yard.
It did not take long to decide that our assets had tipped the beam, five to four, in favor of a try. We would begin with the gully, work upward, and end with the path—some things we must buy, others we could find by ourselves.
Holding The Slope’s Topsoil And Moisture
Work started that spring early, and we aim to show something, no matter how small, by summer. The first essential we knew must be the holding of topsoil and moisture on the slope. Accordingly, as many rocks as we could afford, some very large, were fetched in and put in place.
Each was firmly anchored since we wanted them to stay there. Care was taken to “site” these rocks just as they had lain in their woodland beds so that moss and lichen would show naturally on their weathered upper surfaces. We also took pains to leave the place neat with rocks.
The rocks were the ribs of our plan. About them, we worked in a rich mixture of rotted leaves, peat moss, sand, and sawdust, well mingled and well dug in. Pockets of this new soil mixture were spaded especially deep in the Ice of each rock.
The entire slope was soaked and resoaked thoroughly with the finest spray from the hose. Of course, we wanted nothing to be washed off, but we did enjoy cool, damp topsoil for our planting.
First planted were ferns and bracken early in May. We used 150 Christmas ferns, 50 evergreen wood ferns and 50 bracken. This was all we could afford as a starter, for we had already stretched the budget to get in the heavy rocks we needed and ensure our topsoil.
The stones were a must, as all else depended on their locations and ability to hold the soil and the moisture. During that summer, the gully was well-soaked every two weeks but never flooded. As a result, we lost not more than half a dozen ferns in the lot.
Our Second Planting
By mid-September, we were ready for our second planting. This should not have been done in the spring except for the cost. We began by extending the ferns along the future path above the gully.
The soil was ready for them by now, already wealthy, moist and deepening under the repeated mulching of leaves.
Here and there, we planted:
- 6 Alumroot white, May to Sept.
- 6 Aster, New England — purple, Aug. to Nov.
- 6 Baneberry, red—white flowers followed by red berries, April to June.
- 6 Baneberry, white-white flowers followed by white berries tipped with purple, April to June.
- 6 Bergamot — lavender, June to Sept.
- 6 Butterfly. Weed — orange, July to Sept.
- 6 Carnation — deep pink, June to Sept. (This is not a native wildflower, but the Deptford pink, native to Britain. It has long since grown as a wildflower here.)
- 12 Columbine — red and yellow, spring and early summer.
- 6 Coneflower — yellow, July to Oct.
- 6 Jack-in-the-pulpit — green and brown, June.
- 12 Jacob’s-ladder — blue, May to Aug. 6 Lobelia —blue, July to Nov.
- 6 Cardinal flower — scarlet, July to Oct. 12 Virginia bluebell — blue, April to May.
- 12 Phlox, dwarf — blue-light blue, July to Sept.
- 4 Snakeroot — white, Aug. to Nov. 12 Spiderwort — blue, June to Sept. 12 Trillium — white, April to May.
This was a modest beginning. All of these we had seen growing in the wildflower preserve at Bowman’s Hill, near Washington’s Crossing, Penn.
Most of them, too, were old friends, familiar everywhere in neighboring woodlands. We knew the colors we hoped to see.
We tried to select our wildflowers for a succession of blooms instead of concentrating, as many people do, on the more popular but short-lived beauties of the spring. There is no reason why wildflowers should not flourish from April to November if they are chosen with that range in mind.
In September, we transplanted some goldenrod to one or two open places along our little path. It has prospered there.
At that time, we moved two inkberries to the wildflower corner. Two shadbushes and a red-bud sapling were also put in.
Daffodils For Color
We planted almost 300 old daffodil bulbs in October and lifted and dried them the previous spring. These, however, not being native wildflowers, we ruled out of the wildflower garden. Instead, they were planted in drifts at the edges of the laurel and rhododendron groups.
Also, in October, we put in some loosestrife. It blossomed on June 2 the following spring, and it was glorious. Since then, it has spread.
Wild senna was seeded in October, an ideal time to plant it. Some of the greater celandines were implanted in the fall but not in the wildflower corner. It should make another link with the daffodils.
Our second spring, we dug some 60 blue bugles — the ajuga and set them along our path, now well-defined between its flanking boulders. This ajuga was pure gain, for we got it as surplus from some plants growing in one of our borders.
Year by year, it spreads so that we can easily double our plants each spring, putting the new shoots in wherever ground cover is needed. We used it near the daffodils since it is not native.
The Cost Was Moderate
The cost of our wildflower corner has been surprisingly moderate — except for the purchase and the setting of the rocks. We could not handle this ourselves.
Otherwise, the whole thing has grown from such simple expedients as plenty of rotted leaves, sawdust, and sand mulches, besides slow, deep watering in dry spells — all of which cost us nothing from our labor.
Some of the -wildflowers came to us as gifts from friends. Some sprang up of their own accord—others we bought.
There is but one way to succeed with wildflowers. First, mark well how they grow and where. Then reproduce these same conditions as closely as may be in the wild garden at home. It is useless to expect moisture-loving plants to survive in dry soil. Shade-lovers must haVe shade; sun-lovers, sun.
As a whole, wildflowers need an excellent deal more moisture, deeper humus, and less direct sun than their cultivated counterparts. We have the surest of guides to follow — nature’s bounty on every side for our instruction and delight.
44659 by Clifton Lisle