Posts Tagged Zephranthes atamasco

Flowers come and (mostly) gone

Halesia diptera flowers at peak bloom on April 2

Ah, what a wacky season it has been — and continues to be. A prime example is my exquisite Two-Winged Silverbell (Halesia diptera), which bloomed last year on April 15. This year, peak bloom was this past Monday, and now the blooms are mostly gone. Uncharacteristic heat, heavy downpours, and strong winds shortened this tree’s blooming season to the blink of an eye.

Here’s what the entire tree looked like from a distance:

See the whiteness on the ground beneath it? Those are flower petals, which were already rapidly falling, even though the flowers had barely opened. Here’s a closer look at the petals on the ground:

Floral snowfall

And because this wonderful tree’s season was so painfully short this year, I offer you one more photo. This one is what the top of the tree looked like as I stood beneath it:

This beauty is about 30 feet tall and fifteen feet wide.

At least I had the chance to photographically document this lovely native.

My huge Black Cherry tree bloomed two weeks earlier than last year. By the time I thought to try to photograph the flowers on April 2, they were already dropping, leaving tiny cherries in their place. I never tire of watching the birds — especially the Pileated Woodpeckers — devour this fruit when it ripens. Here’s what I saw on April 2 this year:

The Red Buckeye, on the other hand, was unimpressed by March’s early warmth. Last year, I wrote of its first blooms on March 30. This year, most blooms were open on April 2, and the tree continues to reign redly over my floodplain. Here’s a shot from this past Monday:

Red Buckeye flowers are supposed to call in the Ruby-Throated Hummingbirds, but I haven’t seen a single hummer yet at my house.

I’ll close with a few swamp shots. Those natives are well ahead of last year. The Cinnamon Ferns were displaying fully developed fruiting fonds last Monday when I took this shot:

Last year, I showed you a similar picture on April 20 — almost three full weeks later!

The Jack-in-the-Pulpits are also well ahead of last year. Here’s a shot of a green one with an Atamasco Lily bloom — another species blooming earlier:

And here are some equally precocious purple Jacks blooming lustily despite being surrounded by poison ivy and other swamp plants:

I’ll leave you with proof that I’m not the only one prowling my muddy floodplain these days:

Deer at the top, and maybe a healthy raccoon below?

I’ve got even more photos of plants whose flowers have already come and gone. Stay tuned for future installments. I guess the moral of the story is to wander through your yards and gardens as often as you can this time of year. If you linger indoors, the wonders of spring will most surely pass you by.

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Belle of the Wetland: Atamasco Lily

Atamasco Lilies

The picture speaks for itself, don’t you think? This native wildflower, commonly known as Atamasco Lily or Wild Easter Lily (Zephranthes atamasco) flourishes in my soggy wetland, and is nearing peak bloom as I type.

Ace photographer and Wonder Spouse took this shot for me, because my less-expensive camera just couldn’t do justice to these beauties.  If you take the time to click on the above photo to enlarge it, you’ll be better able to see the details that make this flower so gorgeous. Note the two flower buds swollen like balloons as they prepare to unfurl their petals. And see the smaller buds, pink-tinged, waiting their turns to shine?

This wildflower — growing without any help from me in a mucky wetland — mixes with the Cinnamon Ferns and Jack-in-the-Pulpits like they’re mingling at a party. Wow is an understatement.

The distinctive leaves of these lilies make them a snap to spot even when they’re not blooming. They are flat and very shiny — easy to distinguish from the abundant grasses and sedges that share the wetland. My references tell me the leaves and bulbs are highly poisonous, which would explain why the deer don’t graze on them — not even the flower buds.

Flowers are six-petaled and quite delicate. Here’s a close-up of a flower that Wonder Spouse took. If you click to enlarge it, you may spot the mosquito loitering on a lower right petal.

Atamasco Lily Close-up

Flower stems (called scapes) grow 8 to 10 inches tall and usually bear single flowers. Because they tend to bloom around Easter, residents of the southeastern Piedmont and Coastal Plain — where these lilies are native — have a tradition of picking the flowers to celebrate the holiday, proclaiming them to be Wild Easter Lilies.

My references say that these lilies will adapt to standard garden beds, as long as the soil is high in organic material, and even moisture levels are maintained. They need a few hours of sun to ensure good blossom production.

However, in my opinion, Atamasco Lilies belong in our naturally occuring swampy spots — and maybe rain gardens — places where they can achieve maximum vigor — and where they can take their rightful places as the belles of our late springtime wetlands.

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