Photo: Spanish Bluebells, Alyssa Ford Morel
Alyssa Ford Morel
I got some bad news recently. I picked up a new edition of “Plant Invaders of Mid-Atlantic Natural Areas” and found that one of my favorite bulbs, Hyacinthoides hispanica, or Spanish Bluebells, is a new entry, its invasive qualities manifesting in my area.
Spanish Bluebells, Alyssa Ford Morel
This pretty flower has sentimental meaning for me because I was first given bulbs of it by my mother, now deceased, who dug them from her beautiful garden. I liked it so much that 15 years ago, after spending a year and a half removing invasive English Ivy from my shady back yard, I bought a bag of 50 of the bluest variety I could find and carefully planted them throughout. A friend who knew I liked them gave me another 25 or so white ones. Over the years, I’ve watched what started as 75 individual bulbs mature into large clumps, making a beautiful show every spring. I’ve even recommended them to other people, compounding my guilt.
It’s a hard way to personally learn a truth I’ve stated before but now am painfully living: the only way to guarantee you aren’t planting future invasives is to plant natives. By definition (specifically Executive Order 13112 signed in 1999 by President Clinton), invasives are organisms that (1) are not native to the area in which they are being found, (2) are capable of escaping cultivation, and (3) can out-compete native organisms causing harm to human health, the economy or the environment. Invasive plants too often become a problem because we humans fall for the attractive qualities of a non-native plant and use it extensively, providing an expanding pool from which it reproduces itself.
I am relearning the lesson that only natives cannot become invasive over time each time I push my hori hori knife into the ground, hoping to get deep enough to remove the round, white bulbs that have proliferated. While this is a giant task, it is made worse because I know that, try as I might, I will not find all the bulbs, and I will certainly have to come back and retry next spring, and maybe for many springs to come.
One comfort that I cling to is the fact that I will have a lot more room to plant some of the native plants that I have learned to love. Here are three that I’ll be planting more of:
Virginia Bluebells, Elaine Mills
Virginia Bluebells (Mertensia virginica) are the obvious replacement for Spanish Bluebells. I’ve long believed their blue is one of the most beautiful colors nature provides. They are a spring ephemeral, with foliage dying to the ground by summer. They look great with ferns which will quickly grow to cover the Bluebells’ dying foliage. Virginia Bluebells support a variety of bees, butterflies and hummingbirds. One tip is that if you are planting on a slope, plant them at the top of the slope and they will gradually drop their seeds downhill, forming a beautiful carpet.
Great White Trillium, Elaine Mills
Another one of northern Virginia’s most stunning ephemerals is the Great White Trillium (Trillium grandiflorum). These three-petaled flowers spread very slowly if undisturbed. They start their bloom bright white and fade to a lovely pink as they age. One of the most delightful nearby nature walks is the “Trillium Trail” section of the Appalachian Trail with miles of Trilliums and other native spring ephemerals, showing best at the end of April and beginning of May each year.
Foamflower, Elaine Mills
Another plant I’ll be adding more of is Foamflower (Tiarella cordifolia). The lacy spikes of white flowers that bloom from April to July are the source of their name, but their pretty leaves with deep red along the veins make them attractive throughout the growing season. The leaves may turn a red-bronze color in autumn and sometimes remain evergreen in mild winters.
While my feelings about having planted a sentimental favorite that is now identified as a problem are complex, my feelings about being able to plant more favorite natives is pure joy.