Monday, May 9, 2011

Butterflies and Angels, and Everything Nice

“Well, Grandma always called it a Jumping Jehoshaphat Willy Wally Wamalooma.”  But then, Granny always was pretty imaginative. 
I’ve talked to a whole lot of people about a whole lot of plants, and the resistance to using botanical names of plants never ceases to amaze me- and amuse me.  My favorites were always the ‘Butterfly’ plants.  There are a dozen different variants on the butterfly theme, from weeds to bushes to vines to ‘Swirling Butterflies’.  Selling plants is, in part, a job of translation. 


Asclepias curassavica
 
What’s usually called ‘Butterfly Weed’ is an Asclepias.  Asclepias curassavica is a three to four foot perennial with orangey-red sepals and yellow petals.  The ‘Butterfly’ part of the name comes from the Monarch butterflies that will swarm the plant as they migrate through.  Apparently, Asclepias nectar is pretty sweet and highly addictive. 


Monarch Butterfly on Asclepias, or 'Butterfly Weed', or 'Milkweed', or...

Asclepias also gets called ‘Milkweed’ because of the milky, sticky sap that for many people is an irritant to their skin.  In fact, it’s theorized that the nectar eaten by the Monarch butterflies makes their bodies very bitter, and once a bird tries to eat one, they won’t want another.  That, in turn, inspires copycat butterflies like the Viceroy, which take advantage of the hard work of the Monarch.  They’re the opportunists of the butterfly world. 



Monarch Butterfly



 

Viceroy Butterfly- riding the coat tails of the Monarch
And then there's the Butterfly Bush.  The ‘Butterfly Bush’ I’m familiar with is Buddleia davidii.  It comes in pink, purple, magenta, white, lilac, and probably a dozen more I’ve just never seen.  This plant also makes a flower that drives butterflies a little bit crazy.  Maybe they have sweet tasting flowers, or maybe butterflies just aren’t that picky.


'Nanho Purple' Butterfly Bush driving a butterfly crazy

‘Butterfly Bush’ has eight to fourteen inch bloom clusters of tiny little flowers that can get so big that they make the branch droop.  The bush easily gets five to seven feet tall, and if you deadhead, it will bloom all summer and bring you a lot of butterflies to watch.  ‘Butterfly Bush’ is one of those bloomers that can grab you and drag you across the yard with its fragrance.  Up close, the scent is nearly a sensory overload.  Nerd note: apparently the name most often used is Buddleia, but the actual, correct name is Buddleja.  But to me that "j" just seems wrong.
A plant that doesn’t necessarily have a wonderful scent nor attract butterflies is a rose sometimes called ‘Butterfly Rose’.  This rose is usually sold now as ‘Mutabilis’, but at one time was sold as ‘Tipo Ideale’. 

The name in this case has nothing to do with attracting butterflies.  Instead the blooms, as they change (or mutate) from orange to yellow to pink, look to some people like a bunch of butterflies that have landed on the shrub. Mutabilis is an absolutely awesome rose that blooms heavily in spring and fall and sporadically throughout the summer.  In addition to the butterfly-like flowers, it just makes a great landscape shrub. 
It’s one thing to think of butterflies when you see an especially beautiful flower.  But what about when a flower is just so big, and blooms so enthusiastically that no terrestrial comparison will do?  In that case, you gotta get celestial.  Call it something grandiose, something that verges on the religious.  Something like ‘Angel’s Trumpet’.  The problem is that ‘Angel’s Trumpet’ is such a great name that it’s hard to contain it to just one plant.  There are at least two that commonly get assigned that Heavenly handle.  To be fair, they are similar, and the differences have more to do with their habit than the flowers themselves. 

Datura wrightii

Datura wrightii is being seen more and more as one landscaper after another is seduced by its big, billowy bloom.  And honestly, it’s hard not to be seduced.  Datura flowers open at night, so when the sun comes up they already look like they’ve been hard at work, and they wither by mid-morning.  Datura also sports golf-ball sized, spiny seedpods that are nearly as interesting as the flowers or its nocturnal nature. 
Datura seedpod
So to tally up the attributes of Datura so far, you’ve got a “trumpet” of a flower, you’ve got a plant that gets up to some sort of hijinks at night, and you’ve got a little sea urchin seedpod.  Aside from all of that, Datura is a far-out plant.  There are whole religions built around Datura.  Is that because it’s reminiscent of angelic instruments.  Is it because of the wild flowers?  Maybe partly, but also because it can get you high.  Or kill you. Datura is poisonous, and both shamans and severely misguided teenagers have used it to see visions, or smell colors, or something.  I’ve been told, however, that Datura is poisonous enough that a person’s body will initially reject it.  Apparently, you have to really work at it to ingest Datura.  I didn’t ask my source of this information how he happened to know this.  I just said “Cool, man,” and quickly finished my beer. 
Another ‘Angel’s Trumpet’ is Brugmansia.  Brugmansias, or Brugs as they’re called in gardening forums, also have large trumpet-shaped flowers.  Whereas Datura gets four to five feet tall and wide, Brugmansias just don’t seem to stop growing until they freeze to the ground.  They can easily get seven to nine feet tall.  The flowers on Brugmansia hang down, unlike Datura blooms, so when the bush gets that tall, it’s possible to walk under them and look up into their throats.  And you can see the blooms all day because they won’t close or wither in the morning.  Brugmansia flowers come in yellow, peach, white, salmon, dark peach, dark yellow, and really, really bright white.  There are also a whole slew of double flowering versions.  What there aren’t are any blue or bright red flowering Brugmansias. 


Brugmansia: The other 'Angel's Trumpet'
 There are differing opinions as to whether Brugmansia is poisonous or not, but does it matter?  When it comes to ‘Angel’s Trumpet’: one’s definitely poisonous, the other is probably best left alone anyway.  Again I refer to my cardinal rule: don’t eat your landscape
So the whole troop of ‘butterfly’ plants, the ‘Angel’s Trumpets’, and the ‘Glittery, Sparkly Fairy Wings and Happy Dreams’ plants got their names because they attract butterflies (or angels) or because they look like butterflies or bugles.  And then there are the plants that people name as a way of wistful thinking.  Or clever advertising.  Hence, Lucky Bamboo.
"Lucky (not)Bamboo" 
I’m not going to dispute the lucky part.  Someone once gave me one of these plants and I just don’t have it in me to throw a plant away.  But it never gave me any good luck, as far as I could tell.  But I will dispute the Bamboo part.  It’s not.  It’s Dracaena. 
"Corn Plant"
You know those seven foot tall ‘Corn Plants’ you see in the corners of doctors’ offices?  That’s Dracaena.  It makes a great houseplant, but I’m unclear as to how it gets infused with good luck. 
What’s in a name?  The difference between good luck and not, I guess.  It’s tempting to try to correct anybody who tells you what their granny used to call such and such plant, and maybe it’s even the responsible thing to do.  I don't know.  But when somebody asks you “Is that what Pappy always called a Wizamaroo Tree?”, one option is to just nod and say, “Yep, that’s the one.”  And sell them a Lucky Bamboo.