Talk to botanists and they’ll tell you that the world is
full of DYCs. Botanists don’t care about
DC (a thorny place full of prickly issues), the DMZ (a borderline patch between
North and South Korea that is no place to garden) or AC/DC (loud rock music is
not good for plants). But DYCs are both
a source of amusement and puzzlement, because in botany, they are the damn
yellow composites.
Composites are plants with two part, daisy-like flowers. Each bloom consists of a center disk flower,
which may be green, brown, yellow, black, or any other shade, and the “petals,”
or ray flowers around the disk. So far,
so good, so why the swearing? Because
there are so many species of yellow composites and they all look so much
alike. A botanist’s street cred (even if
she works in the woods) hangs on being able to properly ID a plant, and DYCs create
mayhem and foolishness.
Of the dozens of wild DYCs, a relative handful have found
their way into cultivated landscapes. Three
of them are in bloom at our Demonstration Garden right now. Oxeye sunflower (Heliopsis heilanthoides) reaches a height of three to four feet,
has dark green, opposite, toothed leaves, and covers itself in yellow daisies
with a yellow center. Its minor faults –
that red aphids find hanging out on the stems beneath the flowers an
irresistible place to be, and that it self-seeds a little bit – should be
overlooked in favor of its jaunty demeanor.
Ashy sunflower (Helianthus mollis)
is less well known but deserves consideration.
It has blue-green, opposite leaves without teeth and similar yellow
flowers. Cup plant (Silphium perfoliatum) has higher aspirations, producing its DYC
flowers six feet or more above the earth.
Its paired leaves encircle the stem, hence the common name. Michigan lists it as an endangered native
plant, while Connecticut calls it invasive, so go figure. All three of these species, like most DYCs, will
live happily for years in full sun to slight shade in a wide range of
adequately drained soils.
If cup plant excites you for its stature, you’ll also love
the towering cutleaf coneflower (Rudbeckia
nitida ‘Herbstonne’), which reaches over seven feet. Its ray flowers of an even more luminescent
shade than most DYCs droop a bit and the disk is mounded and slightly green. Double-flowered variants of this also exist,
but the blossoms look like used Kleenex to me.
Most bizarre is Cabbage leaf coneflower (Rudbeckia maxima), which shoots up seven foot leggy stalks, each
topped with a single bloom of very limp rays encircling a big brown disk. The base is a set of strappy, blue-green
leaves which reminded someone of the main ingredient in cole slaw.
Lest we forget the plant that swept the ‘1980’s, consider Rudbeckia fulgida ‘Goldsturm.’ With black-eyed Susan cheerfulness and
Terminator toughness, it became the poster child for the “new American garden” school
of landscape design, made millions for the nursery industry and thrives coast
to coast. Damn good for a yellow
composite.
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