The Dirt on Nicky

72

Colors belong

Radishes are red, purple and green. French folks call eggplants aubergine. I admire the red splotches on rattlesnake beans. Vegetable colors might make the headlines, but flowers beside them add to the painting, and add more than color.

For example, strawberries, cucumbers, summer squash, pumpkins and melons are pollinated by bees and butterflies. No bees, no zukes. Bees and critters also spread pollen among self-fertile tomato blossoms by either vibrating the anthers making pollen disperse or by ferrying pollen from flower to flower. No bees, where’s my ‘maters?

Rudbeckia and coreopsis are native flowers that sprout every spring in the sunny places, and they bear flowers that attract butterflies, bees and moths. Rosa canina (dog roses) too, which also provide sustenance for the new resident pollinators.

Echinacea and primroses and other regulars sprout along roadsides without human intervention, and they feed pollinators, but a gardener can also plant flower seeds– scatter them like Pollock, line them up in perpendiculars like Klee, or be a pointillist like Seurat.

A garden is an art project, but color is only one contribution from flowering plants. Borage has small bright blue edible flowers that make a corner of a bed happier. That is reason enough to plant it, but its sturdy root penetrates and thereby aerates the soil, and its leaves make useful mulch as they decompose.

An anise hyssop plant will sprout tall healthy stems that flop over, produce flower spikes in shades of purple, but also shade the soil beneath it to keep out weeds. Its scent attracts beneficial insects but supposedly deters rabbits and deer! That’s special.

Here are examples of typical garden flowers which attract pollinators and also contribute in other ways to garden soil and nearby plants. The list was not generated by AI.

Marigold flowers vary between orange, yellow, red and combinations of each. They last for the entire garden season. Romans and Greeks back in the day ate the flowers. Aztecs included them in rituals, and Shakespeare’s mom might have added them to soups. In the garden, marigold flowers attract pollinators we like (parasitic wasps, ladybugs) and deter bug pests we don’t. Marigold scent is strong enough to mask the smell of plants such as tomatoes so that predators don’t notice them. They also deter bad nematodes.

Yarrow plants with white flowers are common in our area, and the roots reach deep into the soil and bring up minerals such as potassium, calcium, phosphorus and magnesium making the soil around them richer. When plants begin to produce umbelliferous flowers, I cut the tall stems back to ground level and use the foliage as a scented mulch. Yarrow varieties might be yellow, pink, red, gold or orange, so pick your favorite.

Monarda bradburiana is native to my garden space. The plants reach knee-high, and patches of the splashy, unkempt white or pinkish flowers attract a variety of bees plus butterflies such as swallowtails and fritillaries. Hummingbirds, too. It supposedly deters aphids and spider mites from nearby plants, and that’s a good thing. Its root system supports the underground economy by keeping soil loose and making tunnels for busy worms and things. Monarda varieties display a crayon box of colors.

Cosmos and zinnia flowers also match all colors of a rainbow. The vibrant flowers bloom all summer much to the delight of hungry butterflies. Cosmos plants get tall and chaotic in shape, but pollinators take refuge there. People who count things claim zinnias enhance the growth and health of nearby tomatoes or cucumbers, plus they attract slugs and snails away from brassicas.

Nasturtiums are another useful companion plant with edible leaves and attractive red, orange and yellow flowers, but I had better luck with them in microclimates with less severe summers. Alyssum, with flowers of white, pink and purple, handles our weather better than nasturtiums plus it boosts the health of nearby brassicas and lettuce, so it offers more than color.

Your garden can be a work of art. Are you a Picasso? Me neither, but then he wasn’t me.

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