Everything needs water again
A sweaty July gardener in a floppy hat goes to the garden to reconnoiter what the plants and soil need, and every time it is more water and mulch. Water in the morning, water as the sun goes down. The mild breeze feels refreshing, and so would a rain shower.
A yellow coneflower plant in my garden is handling the heat better than other plants. Echinacea paradoxa is the only natural yellow echinacea, though plant breeders have created myriad varieties. Echinacea species, called coneflowers, are drought-tolerant perennials native to central North America. They grow in prairies, woods and along riverbanks from Saskatchewan to the Southeast. Every spring, a quarter-mile stretch along CR 221 south of Berryville dazzles with purple coneflowers (E. purpurea).
But for a quick moment, look at that assemblage of letters – echinacea – and think of how many different ways that combination could be pronounced. E china seah, for example.
The echinacea genus is related to sunflowers and daisies, and like them has a single flower on a slender unbranched stalk. European explorers sneaking around in the forests of the Southeast during the 1700s came up with the name “echinacea” which traces back to a Greek word meaning hedgehog. The center of each flower is a button of spiky parts, and I must admit, hedgehog is the first thing I think of when seeing an echinacea flower. Surrounding the spiky buttons are petals drooping downward forming a cone shape.
Indigenous nations on our continent used echinacea medicinally for centuries. Different communities applied ointments to skin for burns, bites or wounds, or chewed the root for toothaches or to soothe the throat. Decoctions were for stomach complaints. The European newcomers noticed what the locals were doing, and word made it to Europe that echinacea would prevent colds (in other words, there’s money to be made), and soon enough a Swiss dude was promoting Meyer’s Blood Purifier, an echinacea product for sinus issues, rheumatism and snake bite.
By the early 20th century, echinacea was as popular as ragtime and mah jongg. Commercial cultivation began in Europe. In the United States, two species were so aggressively overharvested in the wild they were listed as endangered. Intervention succeeded, and one of them has recovered and the other is now only threatened. Whew!
Belief in its medicinal efficacy handed down from indigenous folks has never faded from popular culture. Tea bags, tablets and tinctures containing echinacea are on mainstream grocery store shelves. Echinacea is often paired with goldenseal, another native plant held in high esteem in traditional herbal medicine. Curiously, both of them have received so-so grades from research studies.
One complication in assessing the effectiveness of echinacea is the products are not necessarily comparable because some use a mixture of species, some use different plant parts, and some rely on different chemical combinations. Products these days are promoted as a way to moderate cold symptoms and ease discomfort from respiratory infections. Some claim to help with eczema.
So far, researchers allow that echinacea might minimize the chance of catching a cold by boosting the immune system. I found no reports of a researcher willing to test echinacea on a snakebite.
However, in his book Echinacea, herbal scholar and author Steven Foster noted natives along the Missouri River used echinacea as an antidote for snakebites and scary stings. It was the go-to herbal remedy for most ailments – toothaches, sore gums, burns, stomach issues and colds. He also points out folks allergic to aster family plants should be cautious with echinacea, plus you should take a short break from it after a few days.
If you want to grow plants from seeds, Foster recommends a period of cold stratification. Scatter seeds in a container of sand and peat, tamp them down but don’t cover, and find a safe place outside for the winter. You could also find a corner in your refrigerator.
Echinaceas are generally tough specimens – showy flowers, drought-tolerant, okay with marginal soil conditions and fun to say. E china seah, for example.