Native flowers for early spring

The flowers that I think of as my spring bulbs are emerging early this year, so much so that it’s worrisome. I’m afraid their blooms will be prematurely cut down by a March snowstorm. 

Crocuses flowering earlier than usual

It’s always heartening to see these first snowdrops and crocuses. They signal that spring is on the way, and they’re important to the first pollinators circulating during these early weeks. I haven’t seen any bees on the crocuses yet, but I’m expecting them soon.

    As lovely as these flowers are, they’re imports. Are there native options?

    Research into what are generally called bulbs always bumps up against botanical correctness. Plants that grow from underground storage organs can correctly be called geophytes, and true bulbs are only one of their adaptations. Others are corms, tubers and rhizomes. Bulbs, as exemplified by onions, are made up of layers of embryonic leaves separated by membranes. 

The layers of an onion are future leaves-photo Amada44

A corm is an upright thickened underground stem, whereas a rhizome is a thickened horizontal underground stem. A tuber such as a potato develops at the tip of a rhizome.

Bearded iris rhizome, Book of Gardening 1900

    Terminology aside, the native range of many of my early bloomers is eastern Europe or western Russia. I’d like to grow more native spring-blooming geophytes, not just imports from the Caucasus.

    While I practice social distancing, I’ve had time to review the early-spring-flowering natives on my plant list. Instead of bulbs, I’ve regarded these geophytes as spring ephemerals. They’re woodland plants adapted to bloom and produce foliage in earliest spring before shade from the tree canopy sets in, then drop their leaves and draw on stored energy to survive the summer.

    Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis) and Virginia bluebells (Mertensia virginica) both grow from rhizomes and flower early and beautifully in my yard.

Bloodroot's early spring flowers

 They’re both happy in their shady locations and forming expanding colonies. 

Virginia bluebells about to open

White trillium (Trillium grandiflorum), another native, also grows from rhizomes. I’ve tried to establish this plant over the years with little success. At present, just one is hanging on along the back fence. We’ll see how it’ll respond to increased sunlight from the switch from a stockade fence to chain-link.

White trillium-photo СССР

    I planted large camas (Camassia leichtlinii), a true bulb, because it tolerates shade. This camas is native to western North America, but there’s another called wild hyacinth (Camassia scilloides) that grows in the East too, looks pretty, and blooms in April and May. Worth a try.

Wild hyacinth-photo Tom Potterfield

    I’m delighted with the yellow trout-lilies (Erythronium americanum), also eastern natives, true bulbs that seem to have established themselves in light shade next to the bird bath and flower in early spring. 

Yellow trout-lily

I could branch out to another native in the genus, white dog-tooth violet (E. albidum).

White dog-tooth violet

    I love white bleeding heart (Lamprocapnos spectabilis ‘Alba’), a tuber former that’s spread around the garden by self-seeding and blooms in May. It’s not a native, but it has native cousins including fringed bleeding heart (Dicentra eximia), Dutchman’s breeches (D. cucullaria), and squirrel corn (D. canadensis) that also flower in early spring in shady woodlands. More shopping opportunities.

Dutchman's breeches-photo Tom Potterfield

Appetizers

It barely feels like spring to us, but there are already pollinators out foraging for pollen and nectar. Early spring is a lean time for animals, and these insects are no exception. What’s on the menu? 

    Snowdrops (Galanthus nivalis) were the first flowers to bloom in my yard in late February. 

Snowdrops undeterred by ice

These little plants originated in Europe. Their early show is so popular that people have spread them all around the world. Tiny but tough, the flowers emerge unharmed from drifts of snow dropped by late snowstorms, offering pollen for intrepid bees and flies. 

    Next the witch hazel trees (Hamamelis x intermedia) opened their spidery yellow blooms. 

Witch hazel perfumes the yard while waiting for shivering moths

I have two, both spring-blooming nonnatives, hybrids between Chinese and Japanese species. Their bright flowers and sweet scent indicate that they’re advertising for insect pollinators, but they can’t count on bees to do the job reliably this early in the year. They’re pollinated by owlet moths of the genus Eupsilia. These moths cope with March’s cold temperatures by using an adaptation unusual among insects: they warm themselves by shivering.

Owlet moth Eupsilia tristigmata-photo willapalens

    Crocuses opening in mid-March were greeted by bees who were ready to go, climbing in to grab some sustenance. 

A bee visits my favorite Dutch crocus variety, 'Pickwick'

Larger-flowered Dutch crocuses (Crocus vernus) in white and purple seem to be more popular with the bees than smaller snow crocuses (C. chrysanthus and tommasinianus) that are spreading around the front yard. All of these come from Greece, Turkey and the Balkans. 

Snow crocuses are smaller and more modest

    By the end of March, dusky purple hellebore flowers (Helleborus cultivars) are starting to open. 

Hellebores have captured gardeners' imagination with early blooms in subtle shades

You’ll have spotted a trend—these too are nonnatives. So far I hadn’t offered a single native flower for those early foragers. I’m always looking to extend the garden’s season of bloom at both ends. I’d like to offer native flowers as food for pollinators consistently from earliest spring until snow starts to fall in December.

    Lots of natives are about to start flowering. As I trundled my wheelbarrow back and forth in the warm sun this weekend, bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis) leaves unfurled and flowers opened before my eyes. 

Bloodroot flowers come wrapped in grayish green first leaves

Emerging leaves of yellow trout lily (Erythronium americanum) presaged the arrival of its pendant trumpet-shaped blooms. 

Trout lilies don't bloom for long, but while they do they're sublime

These are two spring ephemerals, native woodland plants that take advantage of the sunlight that reaches the ground before trees leaf out. They’re among New England’s earliest bloomers.

    When May comes, there’ll be a banquet of flowers for pollinators to sample. In my yard, the crabapple (Malus ‘Donald Wyman’) and white-blooming redbud (Cercis canadensis f. alba) will cover themselves in glory. 

I prefer the white flowers of this redbud to the more common magenta

Native shrubs will add to the show, from venerable highbush blueberries (Vaccinium corymbosum) to newer additions: black elderberry (Sambucus canadensis), Carolina allspice (Calycanthus floridus), and spicebush (Lindera benzoin). 

Carolina allspice, also called sweetshrub, has unexpectedly dark red flowers

But in February and March, it’s up to the nonnatives to provide the first meals for hungry bees.

Flowers and feathers

In April as my sap is rising, other inhabitants of the yard are out ahead of me getting things done.

To be a good neighbor to native creatures, starting with insects, I’m trying to offer blooms from early spring through late fall. Nectar is useful food for the bugs. I also want to provide the right shelter and reproductive conditions for insects and other animals.

    This week several kinds of small flowers are blooming on the garden floor. They aren’t spring ephemerals; they’ll keep their foliage through the summer. But they’re getting in their bid now for attention from early pollinators. I saw a bumblebee weaving above the flowers today, the first I’ve spotted this year. 

Siberian bugloss (Brunnera macrophylla)

Barren strawberry (Waldsteinia fragarioides)

Labrador violet (Viola labradorica)

Bishop's hat (Epimedium x versicolor 'Sulphureum')

Some early-flowering shrubs and trees are getting in on the act too:

Quince (Chaenomeles x superba)

Serviceberry (Amelanchier arborea)

     Other animals are taking advantage of the warmer weather and longer days. Birds are very active, singing their territorial songs at dawn, feeding and looking for nesting materials all day. 

    Two years ago to help the bird line their nests, I bought a set of “grapevine globes” filled with cotton fiber from Duncraft. This was to invite birds to live in my yard, in hopes that they’ll help create an equilibrium between plants and leaf-eating insects. 

    The vines woven into hollow balls are attractive, but the cotton inside didn’t appeal to the local birds. They never pulled it out, and it gradually matted and discolored in the rain and snow. Birds in my yard are much more enthusiastic about white goose feathers I bought from DownLite Bedding, a company that sells them for topping up feather comforters. 

    Today I was able to poke the feathers through the openings in the vine balls. 

It’s even easier to fill up onion bags with the feathers and close them with twist ties. 

These balls of feathers look strange hanging in the trees, but the birds love them.

There’s a frenzy of activity as they peck out feathers and carry them away to where they’re “feathering” their nests. It’s satisfying to join in the work of spring.