Not often now, in my saddened old wisdom, do I get enticed by catalogue descriptions into ordering something which I know is almost bound to disappoint. Yet from time to time I fall. I do not regret this. If one lost the capacity of falling, it would mean that one had passed from the trustful meadows of youth into the skeptical deserts of age, and that would be a pity for any gardener, since gardening is essentially a hopeful, optimistic occupation.
February 7, 1954
More For Your Garden
Is she not amazing? I fall deeper in love with her writing every time I pick up one of her books (I practically have them all). Just when I think I have gotten use to her poetic prose and fanciful descriptions that waver between gardening and the meaning of life, I am struck again by her ability to encapsulate all that is true and meaningful beyond the garden itself.
Yes I too make mistakes, or rather I’m sometimes disappointed with my choices. This realization never happens right away however. I think in most cases you just have to give it time. For instance, I was unsure of my choice of the Bugbane or the Cimicifuga. After a long spout of no luck in our shady front yard and after being told I would never be able to find any flowering plants for shade, I was pointed in the direction of the bugbane by a very knowledgeable nursery worker. I was told it was slow to grow and that it may not flower for three years.
It was very small when I planted it. I divided it into three or four other plants because the roots had grown so tight in the planter. When I separated them with my clippers they faltered for a week or so but soon flourished and grew quite rapidly. To my surprise, they did flower this year and I have the pleasure of seeing the beautiful blooms of the Cimicifuga, or if you would like to use its most recently changed name the Actaea Racemosa, during this time of the year when we gardeners thirst for a fresh surprise, a little color and a little fragrance.
Speaking of fragrance, the Bugbane has an interesting one. I would say it is that of sour vanilla, but it’s not exactly off-putting. It rather draws the nose to its tiny white stamens again and again in order to pinpoint the scent exactly.
They like partial sun to shade and moist soil. They are not picky about the nutrients or the acidity levels, they can flourish in all. However, the more sun they get the more they will bloom, and the blooms will reach about 2-3 feet if not more. I’m getting many blooms on mine and it is practically in full shade so that should tell you something. Water them like you would any other new plant for the first year, then ignore them. They are wild in their genealogy so given this fact they are more hardy and pest resistant like other wild plants.
Bugbane has many names. For instance, it is sometimes called black snakeroot. Do not confuse the bugbane or black snakeroot with the white snakeroot. The white snakeroot contains the toxin tremetol which causes tremors in cattle if ingested and if humans ingest the milk by an exposed animal or eat the meat they will get milk sickness. It is known that Abraham Lincoln’s mother died of milk sickness when he was young.
The black snakeroot actually has many medicinal properties that frontiersman and Native American’s used. It is said to repel bug bites, and help calm menopause and acne just to name a few. However, I’d suggest going to your local drug store for the remedies of said afflictions.
The bugbane is indeed the saving grace, an angel if you will of the autumn and I too was victim to the “fall” as Vita explains, but I have yet to be disappointed. I will wait, and in the spring I will spread the plants out to create more of a happy crowded appearance mixed with the astilbe I mentioned in my post Astilbe & The Romanovs. Since its leaves are still green and the astilbe look dead (which I hope isn’t the case) adding these to the mix would add interest and color for all seasons. When they really get going they will be gorgeous.
Larry Hodgson describes in his book, Making the Most of Shade that planted in numerous groups, the bugbane will present a striking show – like roman candles set against their dark green foliage shooting up toward the sky. I will do my best to reproduce this effect for you and all passersby in the coming years.