Bambi Shrugged

A sad, and unfortunately common, sight this time of year is hosta plants looking like this:

Hosta is apparently very popular with gardeners in our region, but it is equally popular with deer. By mid-summer, hosta plants are often chewed down to tattered stems. If you are frustrated that your hosta is just salad for the local deer population, perhaps it is time to consider a great alternative. 

Heuchera villosa ‘Autumn Bride’ (pronounced “HEW-ker-ah vill-OH-sah”)

Heuchera villosa ‘Autumn Bride’ (common name Coral Bells or Alumroot) is a native plant about the same size and shape as most hostas, and it grows well in the same conditions. Part shade is fine, and it prefers soil with lots of organic matter, so it is happy under trees and shrubs, especially if fall leaves are left in place. Heuchera is surprisingly drought tolerant once established, so it is an option for dry shade. The leaves are soft and fuzzy and semi-evergreen. They don’t die back completely in the winter, but snow and ice will leave them a bit tattered by springtime. You can clip off any damaged areas before new growth appears. The leaves are far less susceptible to slugs and scorching than hosta leaves, so Heuchera looks better for much longer in the growing season than hosta does.

As the name suggests, ‘Autumn Bride’ blooms with big, white, showy flowers from late summer into fall. The flowers open over a period of weeks, with tiny buds on a stalk rising 6 to 10 inches above the leaves, opening to fluffy flowers loaded with nectar for bees stocking up for winter.

Heuchera flowers sustain bees late in the season
Each stalk holds many tiny flowers full of nectar and pollen

But the best thing about Heuchera is that deer apparently hate it! 

Deer stepped on this Heuchera, and devoured the hosta around it, but they left Heuchera alone!

The common name, “Alumroot,” refers to the plant’s very astringent quality, similar to the effect of the mineral, alum. Finely ground roots of the plant have been used for generations as an astringent to treat external wounds, including to stop bleeding, and for various internal ailments. The leaves are also astringent, and though deer will occasionally try a bite, they soon learn to avoid it.

Deer definitely prefer hosta

Heuchera is a genus of more than 50 species, all native to North America. ‘Autumn Bride’ is a selection of Heuchera villosa, which is native to the Eastern US, though the northern extent of the native range is subject to some dispute. Authorities differ on whether H. villosa and its cousin, Heuchera americana, were originally found as far north as New York, but both species do very well from Connecticut to the Carolinas and west to Arkansas and Oklahoma and are hardy in Zones 4-9.

Horticulture professionals have been busy developing hybrids of multiple species of Heuchera, crossing H. villosa and H. americana with species native to the American West, and inventing an array of multi-colored leaves and bright flowers. They also have crossed Heuchera with Tiarella, another native plant, further expanding the range of colors, leaf sizes, and flowers available in the trade. ‘Autumn Bride,’ at least initially, was a “selection” rather than a “cultivar” because it was propagated by seed from pollinated flowers rather than asexually by cuttings. While most nursery stock now is likely from asexual propagation, ‘Autumn Bride’ does reproduce consistently from seed, which offers some ecological advantage over hybrids or cultivars.

‘Autumn Bride’ brightens a late-season shade garden

Combining the lovely white flowers of ‘Autumn Bride’ with other shade perennials is easy.  It looks lovely with Pink Turtlehead (Chelone lyonnii ‘Hot Lips’), Christmas fern, Canadian Wild Ginger, or White Wood Aster (all deer resistant plants). 

Heuchera villosa ‘Autumn Bride’ is a great garden plant. And it is a definite improvement over all of the non-native hosta we see sadly reduced to celery stalks by voracious deer.


How Did That Get Here?

If you like reliable, predictable, disciplined plants that remain where you put them and return every year, then this plant is not for you. Cardinal Flower (Lobelia cardinalis) is unreliable, eccentric, and unpredictable. But it also has the truest, deepest red flowers you are likely to find. It brings hummingbirds without fail, and is absolutely captivating!

Lobelia cardinalis, common name Cardinal Flower

Cardinal Flower blooms for weeks in late summer. The flower stalks are 3 to 5 feet tall, and the flowers open in succession from bottom to top. The flowering portion of the stem can be 2 or 3 feet long, and the leaves are deep green, providing a perfect background for the flowers.

Individual flowers open over several weeks

Cardinal Flower is nature’s original hummingbird feeder. Hummingbirds are drawn by the intense red color and plentiful nectar. The flowers are precisely shaped for pollination by hummingbirds, and the plant depends on hummingbirds for pollination. The flower’s pistil and stamens arch above the nectar supply, perfectly placed to brush the hummingbird’s head as it feeds. Pollen collects on top of the bird’s head, and when the hummingbird moves to the next flower, pollen is transferred.

The structure holding pollen just fits the top of a hummingbird’s head like a tiny cap, depositing pollen
Photo: Courtesy of Mary Anne Borge,

Bees also visit Cardinal Flowers, but most of them can’t reach the nectar deep inside the long tubular flowers, so they have become “nectar thieves.” They bite a hole into the flower tube and suck out nectar from the base of the flower, completely avoiding the pollenating structure. They are considered “thieves” because they take nectar without providing pollination service to the plant. Nectar-for-pollination is the basis of the plant/pollinator relationship, and these bees are cheating! As long as there are enough hummingbirds around, though, Cardinal Flower will survive.

Honeybee and bumblebee avoiding the pollen structure and stealing nectar from the flower tubes

Lobelia likes wet, sunny locations, and is hardy in Zones 3 to 9. It is native to American wetlands, along ponds and streams, and is found from New Brunswick to Minnesota and south from Texas to Florida. Lobelia is considered a “short-lived” perennial. The original clump dies back after producing flowers, but it may send “off-sets” or shoots from the original clump into nearby areas, and it may also drop seeds around the original plant, thereby maintaining a presence. Or, it may not. Even in optimal conditions, Lobelia sometimes simply disappears from where it was planted, which is disappointing.

Seed pods form after flowering

As Lobelia finishes blooming, seed pods remain on the tall stalks where they ripen, producing lots of very tiny seeds. Larry Weaner, horticulturist, landscape designer, and native plant expert, explains that the seeds need to sit on top of open soil, exposed to sunlight, to germinate. So, he recommends disturbing the soil around Lobelia plants in the fall, and leaving the seed pods in place all winter to open up and drop their seeds. By roughing up the soil around the plants, you provide the open soil necessary for germination, increasing the likelihood of Lobelia coming up again where it was planted.

So, what makes Lobelia unpredictable, whimsical, and even a bit mysterious? We planted Lobelia in a sunny rain garden, theoretically a “perfect” location, but it disappeared after a few seasons. Several years later, it popped up in a dry meadow on the opposite side of the property, hundreds of feet away. How did the seeds move across the property?

Lobelia planted in a rain garden disappeared after 2 seasons
Lobelia appeared 6 years later, an acre away

The seeds are much too small to be eaten or carried by birds. Although it is conceivable the seeds are carried by wind, literature on the subject is far from conclusive. Larry Weaner’s observations suggest the seeds may attach themselves to soil, which is then carried by rainfall, but inevitably downhill.

So, how did this get here? The Lobelia on this property moved across a driveway, across lawn, and uphill to the other side of the house. A few years later, it also popped up across a patio in a fern garden, and then over a hedge and under a huge cedar tree. Then it mysteriously appeared in a backyard shrub border. And it recently appeared by a downspout.

Lobelia volunteered in a fern garden
Lobelia also popped up in a shrub border
Near a downspout

At the Greenburgh Nature Center, we recently spotted Lobelia next to a path at least 100 yards away and around a corner from the only place on the property it was ever planted.

A little volunteer along a path

We are not sure why Cardinal Flower disappears from the places it’s planted, or how it moves around, or why it decides to appear where it does. We are starting to suspect that the seeds are carried on the soles of our shoes as we work in different parts of the garden, but we are open to other theories and observations!

In your own garden, if you want predictable, reliable perennials, there are lots of other great native plants to choose from. But if you enjoy a little mystery, a few surprises, a gorgeous plant, and happy hummingbirds, you will be delighted by Lobelia cardinalis.

Lobelia cardinalis catching the afternoon sun

Late Bloomers

In the last weeks of summer, it is a treat to welcome new flowers to the garden that not only bring fresh color, but also nourish our native pollinators before winter arrives. Two species of the perennial plant, Chelone (pronounced “key-LONE-ee”), start blooming in late August and continue well into fall. Both make great additions to gardens in the Eastern US, and both are known by the rather strange common name, “Turtlehead.”

Chelone glabra starts to bloom just before Labor Day

White Turtlehead (Chelone glabra) has a wide native range, extending from Minnesota to Newfoundland and south to Alabama and Georgia (Zones 3 to 9). It is found in marshes, at the edge of wet woodlands, and along the shores of streams and ponds. That native habitat makes White Turtlehead an obvious choice for sunny rain gardens and soggy areas, but it will happily endure hot weather with occasional irrigation. White Turtlehead stands 3 to 4 feet tall and mixes well with Joe Pye Weed and Cardinal Flower.

White Turtlehead in a rain garden

Pink Turtlehead (Chelone lyonii) has a much more limited native range. It evolved in the Appalachian region from Georgia to Virginia, but has become naturalized in New York and parts of New England. Our observations suggest that insects in these northern areas have welcomed Pink Turtlehead, making good use of its nectar, pollen, and leaves. Pink Turtlehead is more tolerant of shade than White Turtlehead, and can be found in moist forest areas in dappled sun.

Chelone lyonii in a protected forest in New York

Pink Turtlehead also grows 3 to 4 feet tall and has an open, somewhat rangy form. There is a widely-available cultivar of Chelone lyonii called ‘Hot Lips’ that is more compact, only 1 to 2 feet tall, with dark green leaves. ‘Hot Lips’ looks great massed under trees or as a front-of-the-border plant in a light-shade garden.

Chelone lyonii ‘Hot Lips’ in late August

Both types of Turtlehead bloom for two months or more, with flowers opening sequentially from the bottom to the top of each stalk.

‘Hot Lips’ in a shade garden in mid-September
‘Hot Lips’ in October

Both the scientific name and the common name relate to the appearance of the flowers as they open. “Chelone” comes from the Greek word for “turtle.” The name makes sense if you see the flower from the side angle – it does look a bit turtle-ish.

 White Turtlehead
Turtle head! (Actually, this is the Nature Center’s Sulcatas tortoise. And as for those turtle “hot lips”? Just recall beauty is in the eye of the beholder.)
Photo: Travis Brady

Chelones are beautiful late bloomers, but the best reason to have these plants in your garden? Entertainment! All day long, wiggling bumblebees work their way into the flowers to find nectar. Bumblebees and carpenter bees are just heavy enough and strong enough to force the flowers open, collect the pollen, and fly off to the next flower. Watch them at work in this video clip:


The nectar pay-off is deep inside the flower, so the bumblebee picks up pollen on the way in and on the way out. The pollen will be transferred to the next flower when the bee brushes against the protruding curved stigma.

What the bee sees…

Turtlehead is a frequent addition to children’s gardens because watching the bumblebees climb into these beautiful blossoms never gets old.


Too Much or Not Enough?

We plant Anise Hyssop (Agastache foeniculum) every chance we get. Any sunny, dry place is perfect.

We planted it in the entry garden at the Greenburgh Nature Center.

Staircase garden

We planted it in the Pollinator Garden.

Gerrie Shapiro Memorial Pollinator Garden

We planted it in the Meadow.

Native Plant Meadow at the Nature Center

We bring it into our butterfly exhibit in containers as a nectar supply.

Monarch and Painted Lady butterflies on Agastache

Whenever we are asked for advice on planting community pollinator gardens, we recommend Anise Hyssop.

Community pollinator garden in Dobbs Ferry, NY
Photo: August Brosnahan
Pollinator garden on the Hudson River

And we always recommend Anise Hyssop for drought-tolerant residential gardens.

Agastache behind Dense Blazing Star and Coneflowers

We just can’t get enough of this excellent plant! Here are the reasons why:

  • It is gorgeous!
  • It blooms from July through September
  • Butterflies and bees love it
  • It is extremely drought-tolerant and does well in poor soil
  • Deer, rabbits, and woodchucks avoid it
  • It is sturdy, upright, and mixes well with other plants
  • It is host to several species of moths and butterflies
  • The leaves are aromatic, edible, and can be used to make herbal tea

Each flower stem of Agastache holds dozens of tiny lavender flowers loaded with nectar. Even when the flowers finally fade, the stalks are attractive and bring around the very last of summer’s bees and butterflies.

 Individual flowers line the stem of Agastache in July
Agastache in mid-September

Anise Hyssop is native to the Great Plains and dry prairies of the American Midwest. Hardy to Zone 4, the only thing it really can’t take is wet soil. It prefers full sun, but can tolerate some shade as long as the soil is very well drained. Plants can disappear over the winter if the ground stays wet for long periods. We replace any that don’t make it with gallon-sized container plants in the spring and they very quickly catch up to the survivors.

Agastache foeniculum grows 3 to 4 feet tall, forms clumps, and doesn’t seem to expand by rhizomes, but it will seed itself around to make new plants in good conditions. There are several cultivars of hybridized plants now widely available in the market. ‘Blue Fortune’ and ‘Black Adder’ both result from a cross between Agastache foeniculum and Agastache rugosa, an Asian plant. Though we prefer the straight species, the hybrids certainly attract bees and butterflies, and have proven themselves durable, at least in Zones 5-7. The hybrids are sterile and will not seed themselves in the garden.

We do have one problem with this plant: deciding how to pronounce the scientific name! Horticulture expert, Bill Cullina, says “ag-OST-ach-ee,” sounding rather like a sneeze. On-line sources, with audio, give the “American” pronunciation as “aga-STASH.” Looking a bit further, however, we find general agreement that the word “Agastache” comes from the Greek words “agan” meaning much or many, and “stachys” meaning ear of grain. Though that description for Agastache foeniculum is a bit puzzling since the flower doesn’t really look like grain to us, the Greek origin of the word does suggest that the appropriate pronunciation is “aga-STACK-ee,” so we go with that. As for “foeniculum,” we pronounce it “fen-ICK-you-lum,” a word that either comes from the Latin “foenum” for hay, or the related Italian word “finocchio” for fennel. The leaves smell much more like fennel than hay!

Unfortunately, the common name, “Anise Hyssop,” doesn’t clear things up. “Anise” makes sense if you smell or taste the leaves, but “Hyssop” is a completely unrelated plant family. In any case, if you’re asking for this wonderful plant, saying either “aga-STACK-ee” or “Anise Hyssop” will work.

So, is this too much of a good thing?

We don’t think so!


About Drought

What makes a plant, or a whole landscape, “drought tolerant”? Why do some plants need water regularly while others are fine without it for weeks or longer? Drought tolerance depends primarily on two factors:

The first is where a plant evolved. Adaptation to particular environments happened over millennia, and most plants will thrive only in conditions very similar to those where they evolved. That is why, when considering a plant for our gardens, we always want to know whether it is native to our region. Plants that evolved in tropical rainforests will never be drought tolerant. On the other hand, plants that evolved in America’s open meadows are well-adapted to life under baking sun with occasional torrential thunderstorms. Those plants can withstand weeks of heat and drought still looking great, and then stand up to the floods that so often follow.

American meadow plants can tolerate weeks of drought and heat without irrigation

The second big factor in drought tolerance is root depth. Plants that evolved in wet climates usually have shallow roots. Plants that evolved in hard-packed prairie have strong, deep roots that force their way down through poor soil to reach and hold any available water. They can withstand long periods of drought. They also can absorb flood water because their roots break up the soil, allowing water to penetrate rather than run off.

Comparative root depth of plants – note lawn grass on the far left.
Graphic used with the permission of artist

As the chart above indicates, many plants that evolved in America’s prairies like Goldenrod, Coneflower, Prairie Dropseed, Switch Grass, and Wild Indigo have very deep roots, reaching down 4 to 8 feet! As a result, they make great garden plants because they are both beautiful and very drought tolerant.

In contrast, lawn grass is not at all drought tolerant. Despite its name, Kentucky Bluegrass is not from Kentucky. It is native to mild climates in Europe and Asia. Lawn grown from typical seed mixes has very shallow roots, about 2 inches deep. Shallow roots do not retain water, so lawn needs frequent irrigation, and in heavy rain, excess water runs off rather than being absorbed and held in the soil.

An unirrigated lawn after 8 weeks of heat and drought
Heavy rainfall rushes off of lawn, dislodging pavers and overwhelming storm drains

But Americans love lawns. Perhaps perfect lawns and tightly-manicured shrubs became a status symbol in America because of our historic connection with England, where 19th Century aristocrats demonstrated their wealth by employing countless servants to hand-cut lawn and trim elaborate hedges.

Landscape fashion among English aristocracy in the 1800’s — Cliveden House, England
Landscape fashion in suburban New York, 2022

Maybe it’s time for a change of fashion? Here is a photo of that same 19th Century landscape this summer:

Cliveden House, England, August 2022 
Photo: Lawrence Siskind

Most of Europe is suffering from heat and drought this summer, and watering restrictions are now in place. Because lawn requires so much water and retains so little, lawn irrigation is usually the first target of water regulation. In the US, lawn watering (not agriculture!) uses an average of 8 billion gallons of water daily – that’s 32 gallons for every man, woman, and child in our country, every day! (Tallamy, Nature’s Best Hope) Clearly, our love for lawns is not sustainable. 

Restrictions on residential landscape watering have been a reality in California and many of our Southwestern states for years now. So, it makes sense that landscape fashion there has rejected big expanses of lawn, and turned instead to drought tolerant native plants.

Front yard in Berkeley, California
Native plant landscape in Tucson, Arizona
Lawn used only as an edger in a Mexican garden

Prolonged periods of drought and low reservoirs are becoming common in the Northeast as well. Watering restrictions were imposed this summer in much of the Hudson River valley. So, it’s time to think about changing landscape fashion here, too. We can reduce our demand for water by replacing at least some of our lawn area with native trees and drought-tolerant shrubs.

Trees, shrubs, and flowering plants replaced lawn here

By planting drought-tolerant native perennials, we can replace even small areas of lawn with color and flowers for pollinators.

A pollinator garden reduces lawn area and is a beautiful addition to this backyard
A raised flower bed full of life is so much more interesting – and drought tolerant – than lawn
 The drought-tolerant staircase garden at the Nature Center would be a stunning entry garden for any residence

Modern American landscapes need to be resilient as well as beautiful. As we rethink landscape fashion, we recognize that there is as much beauty in a vibrant drought-resistant garden as there is in a bare expanse of thirsty lawn. 

For information on drought-tolerant perennials, download the plant list we used for the Nature Center’s pollinator garden here.