A gardener’s eye is a roving eye.  Wherever one travels, be it far away destinations or closer to home ‘staycations,’ the gardener is always on the lookout for the beautiful or unusual.

A few days ago, our region was blessed with a joyful string of perfect summer days — when the breeze was soft, the air light to our breath, and just the right amount of warmth to envelop us. Out for a pleasurable walk with Mickey, my Morkie, a mass of pale pink flowers caught my attention across the road. Over we crossed to the other side for a closer look.

The pink flowers bloomed on narrow spires of green and reminded me somewhat of snapdragons. The plants stand about a metre or three feet in height, with toothed, blade-like leaves.  I didn’t recognize the plant, but it seemed familiar. It had almost taken over the curb-side garden in which it stood, crowding out brown-eyed Susans (Rudbeckia triloba) and other plantings.

But what was truly amazing, and not noticed at first glance, were the many black blobs here and there throughout the mass of pink. How could I have missed them?  At least 50 or more buzzing bumblebees were feasting on these flowers, their bodies at times fully buried within the tubular pink blooms.

Later, I found the plant in one of my garden books.  It was then I remembered a friend showing me around her garden about four years ago, pointing out a white flowering plant. She described how it attracted pollinators and also showed me one of its quirky habits.  If you bend the stem in a certain direction, it will remain so — hence one of the reasons it’s called the obedient plant!

As I read further about it in my reference book, it is also known as false dragonhead (Physostegia virginiana) and can sport pink, purple or white flowers. As a prolific self-seeder, it can spring up anywhere in one’s garden. It can be invasive but does well in cottage- style and informal gardens.

What a delightful plant encounter on a lovely summer day’s walk!

Reference:
Perennials for Ontario,
by Allison Beck and Kathy Renwald. Publisher Lone Pine

Photos by Joan E. Cope