I learned a lot from Lora Conrad‘s pictures and commentary about a native plant that some consider a nuisance. -promoted by Laura Belin

Do you call it Pokeweed or Pokesalad? That tells your attitude about Poke—do you yank it out / cut it down, or do you look forward to clipping young leaves and cooking them (carefully) as a side dish?

American Pokeweed (Phytolacca americana) also has numerous other, though less common names, including pokeberry, polk salad, and poke sallet, both of which seem to be corruptions of poke salad. The name “Poke” most likely comes from the Algonquian word pokan, meaning bloody.

Of the seventeen milkweed plants (Asclepias genus) that are native to Iowa, only five are widespread in our state: common milkweed, swamp milkweed, butterfly milkweed, whorled milkweed, and sand milkweed.

Today’s featured plant, Tall green milkweed (Asclepias hirtella), is considered “scarce” rather than endangered or threatened in Iowa. Its native range includes parts of eighteen states from the Gulf of Mexico to the Great Lakes, plus the Canadian province of Ontario. According to the Illinois Wildflowers website, preferred habitats have exposure to full sun, with “moist to dry conditions, and sandy or gravelly soil,” including “dry-mesic railroad prairies, sand prairies, rocky glades, edges of sandy wetlands, roadsides, pastures, and abandoned fields.” This species is sometimes known as prairie milkweed.

Tall green milkweed plants typically reach a height between one and three feet, so aren’t particularly tall compared to some summer wildflowers on the prairie, such as compass plant or cup plant. But it’s taller than a related species called green milkweed ( Asclepias viridiflora). The Minnesota Wildflowers site advises that flowers of Asclepias hirtella “are different enough to avoid confusion, plus A. viridiflora is typically a shorter plant with less densely packed leaves.”

I’ve never seen tall green milkweed in the wild, so relied on other photographers for all of the images enclosed below.

I used to visit the Neal Smith National Wildlife Refuge near Prairie City several times a year when my children were younger, and when I regularly drove between Des Moines and Pella. But I hadn’t been there for more than a year until this week. Old friends vacationing from the east coast had heard of the place and share my love of native plants, so we spent half a day in the Prairie Learning and Visitor Center and on one of the nearby walking trails.

You can easily spend an hour or two in the center, watching a short film about the tallgrass prairie and checking out the permanent exhibits on plants and animal life. If you’re lucky, you may be able to see some of the bison herd from a large window overlooking part of the refuge. Volunteers staff the Prairie Point Nature Store, which has a fantastic collection of books (for children as well as adults), toys, t-shirts, postcards, and other small gifts. There’s no cafe or restaurant, but you can bring your own food and eat in the lunchroom.

On to the main attraction…

Among roughly 200 wildflower species featured on this website since 2012, all but a dozen have been native to North America. Today’s plant is one of the exceptions.

Sulfur cinquefoil (Potentilla recta), also known as Rough-fruited cinquefoil, is indigenous to Eurasia but can now be found in almost every U.S. state and Canadian province. Like many non-native plants, it thrives on disturbed ground. According to the Illinois Wildflowers site, “Habitats include limestone glades, pastures and abandoned fields, vacant lots, roadsides, gravelly areas along railroads, compacted soil along grassy paths or dirt roads, infrequently mowed lawns, weedy meadows, and waste areas.”

Although the U.S. Wildflowers site describes this plant as invasive, the ecological consultant Leland Searles told me, “It’s introduced but not aggressive.”

I took all of the enclosed pictures on Mike Delaney’s restored Dallas County prairie, mostly in late June. Searles speculated that this plant may have found its way there through some prairie seed mix.

By my count, Pale purple coneflower (Echinacea pallida) is the 200th wildflower species featured at Bleeding Heartland since I launched this series in 2012. (I’m not counting the sedges Leland Searles profiled or Eileen Miller’s posts about insects or unusual fungi.)

I’ve published more than 200 Iowa wildflower Wednesday posts, but some native plants have been the star of the show more than once. You can scroll through all posts tagged wildflowers in reverse chronological order, or click here for a full archive on one page, alphabetized by common name.

Pale purple coneflower seemed fitting for a milestone because it a striking plant in tallgrass prairie habitats, which used to cover most of Iowa. The species is native to about two dozen states in the East, South, and Midwest. I took most of the pictures enclosed below on Mike Delaney’s restored Dallas County prairie either a couple of summers ago or in late June 2019. When I visited again this week, the pale purple coneflowers were well past their peak, and some had finished blooming.

Distinctive features of blossoms inspired the common names of many native plants, but Thimbleweed (Anemone cylindrica) is so named because of its seed pod.

Today’s featured plant eluded me for years. I rarely came across it at the right time, and when Mike Delaney led me to some plants in bloom on one visit to his restored prairie in Dallas County, the flowers came out looking blue in most of my images. (I later learned this is a common problem when photographing purple flowers.)

With an assist from members of the Iowa Wildflower Report Facebook group, I am pleased to present Venus’ looking glass (Triodanis perfoliata). The common name tells you right away this one’s a beauty. Sometimes known as clasping bellwort or clasping Venus’ looking glass, this plant is native to most of the U.S. In Iowa, it typically blooms sometime in June.

Mike Delaney is the founder of the Raccoon River Watershed Association. -promoted by Laura Belin

I just returned from the Boundary Waters Canoe Area. My son Connor, his friend Brad Cross, Ty Smedes, Forrest Corson, and I ventured forth on what has become an almost annual event in early July.

Why write? A week in the wilderness gives one a little focus sometimes.

Over the past seven and a half years, I’ve mostly showcased native plants in Bleeding Heartland’s wildflowers series, with an occasional nod to naturalized species and even some invasive plants.

Yarrow (Achillea millefolium) doesn’t fall neatly into any category.

Patrick Swanson describes a project to highlight “the unusual geology and scenic value of the Loess Hills, their importance as a wildlife corridor and a home to the largest tracts of native remnant prairie left in the state, and the presence of many protected areas along the backbone of the hills.” -promoted by Laura Belin

Earlier this month, I attended the dedication of Brent’s Trail, a new eight-mile hiking trail in Harrison County, near the town of Little Sioux, that links Murray Hill Scenic Overlook, Loess Hills State Forest, and Gleason-Hubel Wildlife Area.

The idea of a long-distance trail through the Loess Hills was envisioned by Brent Olson, whose career as area forester for the Loess Hills State Forest spanned 25 years before his untimely death in 2016 from cancer at age 53. His vision was championed by those who followed to create such a trail and name it in his honor.

Katie Byerly shares her images of an amazing plant that she calls, “The Giant in the Wildflower World.” promoted by Laura Belin

Purplestem Angelica (Angelica atropurpurea) towers over the other wildflowers at Wilkinson Park in Rock Falls, Iowa. It creates a beautiful background border to the wild roses blooming at the same time. These giant plants also stand in line along the edge of the Shell Rock River creating a unique view to the river from the park and visa versa river into the park.

Purplestem Angelica can be found in the northern counties of Iowa, and as you drive into Minnesota, you may see it in many moist ditches and river edges.

Today’s native plant is much more common than the Mayapples Bleeding Heartland showcased last week. Daisy fleabane (Erigeron strigosus) is a member of the aster family that is native to almost the entire U.S. and Canada.

Sometimes known as prairie fleabane, the species can thrive in many different habitats: “black soil prairies, gravel prairies, hill prairies, limestone glades, dry savannas, eroding clay banks, pastures and abandoned fields, areas along railroads, and roadsides.”

After focusing on one of the most detestable flowering plants found in Iowa woodlands last week, I’m pleased to showcase one of my favorites today. Mayapple (Podophyllum peltatum) is native to most of the U.S. and Canada east of the Rocky Mountains. Its other common name is umbrella plant, for obvious reasons when you see the large leaves spreading over the flowers.

The Illinois Wildflowers website notes that Mayapple thrives in “dappled sunlight to light shade, moist to slightly dry conditions, and a rich loamy soil with abundant organic matter. This plant is easy to start from rhizomes and it will readily adapt to garden areas near deciduous trees. It is a strong colonizer and may spread aggressively in some situations.”

I’ve never seen a lone Mayapple plant in the woods, or even a small colony. They tend to appear in large groups. I took all of the photos enclosed below in Windsor Heights.

Although Bleeding Heartland’s wildflowers series has mostly featured native plants, I rarely feel hostile toward flowering plants that don’t belong in Iowa. Some of these naturalized species, like chicory and moth mullein, tend to stick to disturbed ground. Dame’s rocket can be invasive, but at least it is pretty and serves a lot of pollinators.

I can’t muster the slightest bit of sympathy for garlic mustard (Alliaria petiolata), though.

Bleeding Heartland’s wildflower series might never have existed if not for this week’s featured plant. In May 2009, Elizabeth Hill took my family on a nature hike at Whiterock Conservancy and pointed out lots of spring flowers in bloom. On the way home, I asked my kids what their favorite part of the visit was. My three-and-a-half year old said “those Jack flowers.”

Jack-in-the-pulpits were among the few native plants I could identify at that time. My son was excited to learn we had some growing near our Windsor Heights home. That spring and summer, we started looking more closely at the wildflowers in our neighborhood and along local bike trails. Over the next several years, he and I learned the names of more flowers we saw on our walks.

When I launched Iowa wildflower Wednesday in 2012, I didn’t realize this hobby would eventually occupy so much of my time. While I enjoy learning to identify new plants every year, there is a special place in my heart for the ones I could pick out as a child.

Lora Conrad shares spectacular photographs of a hard-to-find spring wildflower. -promoted by Laura Belin

The first spring you spot one in bloom, you will be spellbound. A strange but enthralling flower with sepals down and petals up in an unlikely maroon or wine-red color atop three mottled leaves on a single skinny scape perhaps a foot high. You’ve just found a Trillium recurvatum!

Patrick Swanson kicks off the eighth year of Bleeding Heartland’s wildflowers series with pictures from the prairie remnant he has been restoring in Harrison County. -promoted by Laura Belin

If you have a favorite sports team, once the season concludes, there is often a period of reflection to consider how the season went. Maybe how each of the games unfolded. Perhaps how some of the games were affected by the weather. Maybe even those games you had to miss, but wished you could have attended.

Spring is now upon us, and just as we have begun enjoying the warmer weather, we must already note the passing of one of the prairie’s earliest native wildflowers – the pasque flower (Anemone patens).

Leland Searles is a photographer and ecological consultant with expertise in botany, hydrology, soils, streams, and wildlife. -promoted by Laura Belin

“The only thing we learn from history is that we learn nothing from history.” (Georg Hegel, German philosopher)

There are too many potential topics for this blog, the third in a series, and that leads to a certain amount of indecisiveness. Until something happens. That something is the flooding that has already occurred in the Midwest this year, and the expectation of more to come. So far, western Iowa, eastern Nebraska, and northwestern Missouri have experienced the worst of it, with a much larger area affected to some extent.

The degree of flooding in the Missouri basin this year is nearly unrivaled in the record books. Still, I want to push this point: we should have known, and we should have acted to prevent it or mitigate it. Dams do not work in the long run, and when the system of dams was built along the Missouri in the 1940s and 1950s, the year 2019 was a long time off. We are now in “the long run” that no one then foresaw.

We interrupt the winter hiatus of Bleeding Heartland’s wildflowers series to bring you Patrick Swanson’s lovely recent pictures of his Harrison County prairie remnant. -promoted by Laura Belin

Saturday night, February 16, brought a nice snowfall to the Omaha/Council Bluffs region. We don’t often get the kind of snow events that make me want to pull out my snowshoes, but as morning broke on Sunday, I decided to throw them in the back of the car and head to the Loess Hills to see what nature provided.

As I introduced in a previous post, I have been working to restore a native prairie remnant. I had considered trying to burn a slash pile from my summer efforts clearing cedars, as I occasionally do in the winter when the weather cooperates. This day, however, the snowplow hadn’t yet cleared one of the roads I use to access the property where I intended to burn. As a result, I had to park and hike in from a different spot.

Because the snow was deeper than I expected, I bailed out on the bonfire idea, and decided instead to take my own “snow day” to trek around on my snowshoes and capture some winter photos of the prairie and woods on the property. I posted some of my pictures to the Iowa Wildflower Report Facebook group, prompting an invitation from Laura Belin to submit a blog post.

Patrick Swanson has been restoring a prairie remnant in the Loess Hills of western Iowa. This post is a synopsis of the book he recently published about that experience, with pictures of one hillside on his Harrison County land throughout the seasons. – promoted by Laura Belin

Readers of Bleeding Heartland have seen many fine articles and commentary on environmental issues and, most particularly wildflowers, published on this site over the years. One might wonder where passion for nature, natural areas, and their denizens comes from.

The Bleeding Heartland community lost a valued voice this year when Johnson County Supervisor Kurt Friese passed away in October. As Mike Carberry noted in his obituary for his good friend, Kurt had a tremendous amount on his plate, and I was grateful whenever he found time to share his commentaries in this space. His final post here was a thought-provoking look at his own upbringing and past intimate relationships in light of Dr. Christine Blasey Ford’s allegations against Judge Brett Kavanaugh.

Friese was among more than 100 guest authors who produced 202 Bleeding Heartland posts during 2018, shattering the previous record of 164 posts by 83 writers in 2017. I’m thankful for every piece and have linked to them all below.

You will find scoops grounded in original research, commentary about major news events, personal reflections on events from many years ago, and stories in photographs or cartoons. Some posts were short, while others developed an argument over thousands of words. Pieces by Allison Engel, Randy Richardson, Tyler Higgs, and Matt Chapman were among the most-viewed at the site this year. In the full list, I’ve noted other posts that were especially popular.

Please get in touch if you would like to write about any political topic of local, statewide, or national importance during 2019. If you do not already have a Bleeding Heartland account, I can set one up for you and explain the process. There is no standard format or word limit. I copy-edit for clarity but don’t micromanage how authors express themselves. Although most authors write under their real names, pseudonyms are allowed here and may be advisable for those writing about sensitive topics or whose day job does not permit expressing political views. I ask authors to disclose potential conflicts of interest, such as being are a paid staffer, consultant, or lobbyist promoting any candidate or policy they discuss here.

Though the bitter cold and snow have mostly failed to materialize this winter in Iowa, I thought a dose of spring, summer, and fall would be welcome on a short December day. I enclose below links to all 29 editions of Iowa wildflower Wednesday from 2018, with one picture from each post.

During my seventh year chronicling native plants, I made a few new discoveries within a mile or two of my home, and guest authors and photographers provided more material than ever.

Please let me know if you would like to contribute wildflower pictures next year, especially if you have photographs of species not covered before at this site. Plants I hope to feature in 2019 include green dragon, four o’clock, lead plant, sweet coneflower, pale purple coneflower, showy tick trefoil, clasping bellwort/Venus’ looking glass, cardinal flower/red lobelia, Joe Pye weed, false Solomon’s seal, bracted spiderwort, bastard toadflax, Missouri evening primrose, and sawtooth sunflower.

Many thanks to Lora Conrad for wrapping up this year’s wildflower series with an informative piece about a beautiful tree. Iowa wildflower Wednesday will return sometime during the spring of 2019. Happy Thanksgiving to the Bleeding Heartland community! -promoted by desmoinesdem

Driving along a rocky dusty Iowa back road along the banks of the Des Moines River in Van Buren County about eighteen years ago, I spotted the brightest possible pink glowing from a small tree amid the drab, frost-killed brush….. and came to an immediate stop (it’s a very quiet road.) There this rather frail, otherwise naked little tree sat with probably a hundred bright seed pods beginning to burst open. What could it be?

Upon talking with an elderly neighbor native to the area, I learned it was commonly called a Wahoo – a name that is an appropriate expression when one sees its unusual beauty for the first time. However, the word Wahoo probably derives from a Dakota word meaning “arrow-wood.”

Luther College Associate Professor Beth Lynch shares her knowledge and photographs of a native vine related to cultivated squashes, gourds, and cucumbers. -promoted by desmoinesdem

In August I received a phone call from a woman I did not know asking about a plant. It turned out that she was sitting in my friend Phil’s kitchen, having just made the drive from the Twin Cities to Decorah. On the drive, she had seen massive mounds of a flowering vine clinging to trees and shrubs along the roadside and was sure it must be the first wave of an invasion.

In fact, what she and many others noticed this summer was the exuberant growth of the native wild cucumber (Echinocystis lobata). This plant is native to eastern North America, but for some reason people seemed to really take note of it this year. It has likely become more common because it is well suited to nutrient-rich, disturbed landscapes created by humans.

Katie Byerly shares her knowledge and photographs of yet another wildflower I’ve never seen in the wild. -promoted by desmoinesdem

In his book The Secrets of Wildflowers, Jack Sanders calls Gentians the Royal Family of Wildflowers. Gentians are named after King Gentius, who ruled as the last Illyrian King from 181 to 168 BCE. It is believed that Gentius discoverd medicinal value from the plant and used it as an antidote to poison and in the dressing of wounds.

If we follow the belief that Gentians are the royal family of the wildflowers, I’d like to imagine the handsome King Fringed Gentian ruling his flower kingdom with his beautiful pale Queen Cream Gentian at his side. His brother Prince Bottled Gentian leads the flower army and is known for his strength. And then there is their rigid cousin Duke Stiff Gentian … he is often overlooked as part of the Gentian family as he quietly rules his northern counties.

Just before Halloween last year, Beth Lynch contributed a fascinating post about witch hazel, a native plant that blooms in the fall.

Since most Iowa wildflowers have gone to seed by late October, I’m reaching back to the late summer for this week’s edition. Marla Mertz took all of these photos in August while exploring prairie habitats in Wilcox Wildlife Area (Marion County).

Rose mallow (Hibiscus laevis) is native to most of the U.S. east of the Rocky Mountains. Sometimes known as halberdleaf or halberd-leaved rose mallow, it thrives in “marshes, swamps, low areas along rivers and ponds, and soggy islands in the middle of rivers or ponds.” According to the Minnesota Wildflowers site, this plant is a “Robust grower but needs some water in dry weather.” The Illinois Wildflowers site concurs: “The preference is full or partial sun, fertile soil, and wet conditions. Flowers require exposure to sunlight to open up properly. This wetland species doesn’t like to dry out.”

Katie Byerly shares her images of a rare wetland plant she researched and photographed this summer. -promoted by desmoinesdem

“It’s pinstriped!” was a comment regarding my picture of Grass of Parnassus, posted in the Iowa Wildflower Report Facebook group. Its green-veined petals makes this plant easy to identify. . . if you can find it.

Marsh Grass of Parnassus (Parnassia glauca), also called Fen Grass of Parnassus or Bog-Stars, grows in wet calcareous habitats like fens, open ground water seepage areas, and wet prairies. The Minnesota Wildflowers and Illinois Wildflowers webpages both comment on the rarity of these habitats and subsequently this flower. Calcareous means to contain calcium carbonate occurring on chalk or limestone, and that’s exactly where I found my grass of Parnassus.

Today’s featured flower doesn’t exactly belong in Iowa. But unlike most of the non-natives Bleeding Heartland has profiled for this series, it isn’t a European transplant. Although royal catchfly (Silene regia) is native to states south and east of us, it became popular in prairie plantings or restorations here because of its brilliant color. You are are unlikely to overlook these bright red, star-shaped flowers or confuse them with anything else blooming on an Iowa landscape during the summer.

Over the years, I’ve tried and mostly failed to take good pictures of red or deep pink flowers. The petals often come out looking flat, like a Matisse painting. I’ve learned that this is a common problem for amateur photographers. Fortunately, several wildflower enthusiasts stepped up to share their images of royal catchfly from different parts of the state.

The trails through Windsor Heights and western Des Moines have provided source material for dozens of Iowa wildflower Wednesday posts since 2012. Instead of featuring one species this week, I want to highlight how quickly some of my favorite wildflower-spotting grounds rebounded after North Walnut Creek and Walnut Creek flooded early this summer.

I took most of the enclosed pictures on either August 4 or August 18, about five to seven weeks after these areas had been underwater for several days.

Late summer in Iowa is peak time for tall plants with large, yellow flowerheads, including Jerusalem artichoke, Maximilian sunflower, prairie sunflower, common sunflower, cup plant, compass plant, wingstem, and today’s featured plant. Cutleaf coneflower (Rudbeckia laciniata) is native to most of the U.S. and Canada. Sometimes called green-headed coneflower, tall coneflower, or golden glow, this member of the aster family thrives in wet habitats such as “bottomland forests, moist meadows in wooded areas, woodland borders, moist thickets, sloughs in partially shaded areas, low areas along rivers, partially shaded river banks, calcareous seeps, margins of poorly drained fields, and pastures.”

I took most of the enclosed photos near bike trails that run along Walnut Creek in Des Moines or North Walnut Creek in Windsor Heights.

Monkey flower was a new discovery for me last summer, even though it’s not a rare plant. According to an article in UConn Today, “The so-called Monkey Flowers in the genus Mimulus got their name because their flowers have a mouth-like shape, and to some they resemble the face of a monkey. They are actually a diverse group of some 150 species worldwide, with about 80 of those species native to California.”

The only plant in this group that is prevalent in Iowa is Mimulus ringens. Sometimes known as Allegheny monkey flower or blue monkey flower, this species is native to most of the U.S. and Canada.

The Illinois Wildflowers website notes that Mimulus ringens thrives in “floodplain and bottomland forests (particularly in partially sunny areas), swamps, seeps, muddy borders of small streams or ponds, drainage ditches, prairie swales, and wet meadows. It typically occurs in areas that are prone to occasional flooding or standing water.” That observation is consistent with my experience. Both prairie plantings where I have found monkey flower in Windsor Heights (in Colby Park and behind the Iowa Department of Natural Resources building on Hickman Road) flooded this summer.

UPDATE/CORRECTION: Bleeding Heartland user PrairieFan speculated that I photographed the native vine Hedge bindweed, (Convolvulus sepium or Calystegia sepium). John Pearson of the Iowa Department of Natural Resources confirms: “The key character between the two species is the size of the bracts at the base of the flower: small in C. arvensis versus large (leaf-like) in C. sepium. The photos in your article that provide a profile view of the flowers show large, leaf-like bracts that would point to C. sepium.” Hedge bindweed is also found across North America. Original post follows:

I haven’t featured many vines in this series, other than bittersweet nightshade, bur cucumber, and wild grape. I’ve also rarely focused on non-native plants, with exceptions noted in the archive. So this week is doubly unusual.

Field bindweed (Convolvulus arvensis) originated in Eurasia but has spread to nearly every part of the U.S. and Canada. Don’t go looking for this plant in high-quality habitats; according to the Illinois Wildflowers site, field bindweed “occurs primarily in disturbed areas” such as “lawns, gardens, fields, clay banks, areas along roadsides and railroads (including ballast), vacant lots, and miscellaneous waste areas.” You probably won’t want to cultivate it, but it may find its way onto your property.

It has considerable drought tolerance, and flourishes in poor soil that contains sand, gravel, or hardpan clay. […] Eradication of this plant is difficult, as mechanical cultivation often spreads the rhizomes around, producing new plants. Because of the deep root system, it has been known to survive bulldozer operations. It can also persist in lawns, notwithstanding regular lawn-mowing. The application of broadleaf herbicides can be an effective control measure, if it is repeated as needed.

I took all of the pictures enclosed below last month along the Windsor Heights or Walnut Creek bike trails.

Every year I learn to identify new wildflowers, and this week’s featured plant is a recent “discovery.” Obedient plant (Physostegia virginiana) is a member of the mint family that is native to most of North America east of the Rocky Mountains. Its pink, lavender, purple, or white flowers open in the late summer or early fall. Most of the images enclosed below were taken during the month of August.

The Minnesota Wildflowers website explains, “Obedient Plant gets its common name from the fact the individual flowers can be repositioned and will continue to grow that way.” Another common name for this species is false dragonhead, “on account of the fancied resemblance to a European plant by that name,” according to the Illinois Wildflowers site.

White vervain (Verbena urticifolia) may be the most difficult plant to photograph of some 180 species Bleeding Heartland has featured for this series since 2012. Tiny white flowers are always a challenge to capture in focus, and these blossoms are even smaller than those of Aunt Lucy or wild chervil.

Though fairly common in its native range, covering much of the U.S. and Canada east of the Rocky Mountains, white vervain is easily overlooked because of its small flowers. Like its relative hoary vervain, it can thrive in low-quality habitats. The Illinois Wildflowers website comments,

Habitats include open disturbed woodlands, woodland borders, thickets, powerline clearances in wooded areas, semi-shaded areas along paths, damp meadows along streams, gravelly seeps, and abandoned fields. White Vervain is usually found in habitats with a history of disturbance. It is somewhat weedy, but rarely forms colonies, existing primarily as scattered individual plants.

While some consider today’s featured plant an undesirable weed, ground cherry attracts many pollinators, including some specialist bees. The berries make tasty jam or pies and are a good food source for various birds, mammals, and even some turtles.

Several closely related Physalis species are native to most of the U.S. east of the Rocky Mountains. Clammy ground cherry (Physalis heterophylla) and smooth ground cherry (Physalis subglabrata) are prevalent in Iowa. Photographer and ecological consultant Leland Searles says he sees more of the smooth ground cherry along roadsides.

I took most of the enclosed pictures this month near the bank of Walnut Creek, where the Windsor Heights trail curves west toward Colby Park after passing Wal-Mart. The Illinois Wildflowers and Minnesota Wildflowers websites provide some tips on distinguishing the ground cherry species, and I think I was photographing smooth ground cherry–but I wouldn’t swear by that ID.

Whereas some summer wildflowers are difficult to distinguish from one another, you can’t mistake purple prairie clover (Dalea purpurea) for anything else when it’s blooming. Beginning in June or early July, tiny purple flowers “bloom together as a flowery wreath” at the bottom of a cone-shaped spike, moving upward as the weeks pass. Sometimes known as violet prairie clover, this plant is native to much of the U.S. and Canada, except for states along the west and east coasts.

Many kinds of pollinators are attracted to purple prairie clover. The Minnesota Wildflowers website says the species “does well in a sunny home garden in average to dry soil.” The Illinois Wildflowers website notes, “The soil can contain significant amounts of loam, clay, sand, or gravel – this plant is rather indifferent to the characteristics of the soil, to which it adds nitrogen. Foliar disease is not troublesome. Purple Prairie Clover is slow to develop, but is fairly easy to manage if the site is well-drained and there is plenty of sun.”

Fun fact I hope no Bleeding Heartland readers will ever need to know: according to the USDA’s Natural Resources Conservation Service, “Tea can be made from vigorous taproot to reduce fever in measles victims. This plant is highly palatable and nutritious.”

Some flowers are much more difficult to photograph than others. For years, I’ve wanted to feature yellow giant hyssop (Agastache nepetoides) in this series, but I have struggled to capture clear images of the tiny yellow flowers.

Ecological consultant Leland Searles came to the rescue. Not only is he one of Iowa’s best resources on native plants, he is also a gifted photographer. Leland has previously shared his pictures of Golden Alexanders, various sedges, northern prickly-ash, and the rare leatherleaf with Bleeding Heartland readers. This week he provided some gorgeous shots of yellow giant hyssop, including an incredible picture of a ruby-throated hummingbird sampling these flowers.

Yellow giant hyssop is native to most states in the eastern half of the United States. Leland noted that it is an “open woodland, savannah, or woods edge species.” I’ve seen some growing near trails and also deeper in the woods, in partial shade. I don’t recall finding it in plantings, but the related purple giant hyssop is now blooming in flowerbeds outside the Des Moines Public Library branch on Franklin and near the Meredith trail between Gray’s Lake and downtown Des Moines. Anise hyssop is shorter than either of its relatives and is most easily identified by the scent of a crushed leaf.

Wild quinine (Parthenium integrifolium) has eluded me for years. The species is native to most states east of the Rocky Mountains, but in the wild it is mainly found in high-quality habitats or prairie restorations. There’s a colony along one of the tallgrass prairie trails at the Neal Smith National Wildlife Refuge, but I’ve never visited while these flowers are blooming.

Fortunately, Wendie Schneider and Katie Byerly found stands of wild quinine this summer and gave me permission to share their images.

Speaking of rare plants I’ve never managed to photograph, I highly recommend the last two editions of Iowa wildflower Wednesday, featuring other people’s beautiful pictures of purple milkweed and small white lady’s slipper.

For the second week in a row, I have the pleasure of sharing images of wildflowers I’ve never found in nature. Purple milkweed (Asclepias purpurascens) is not nearly as rare as the small white lady’s slipper that Katie Byerly featured last week, but it’s much less prevalent than swamp milkweed or butterfly milkweed, let alone common milkweed.

The species is native to much of the U.S. east of the Rocky Mountains. According to the Illinois Wildflowers site, you may find purple milkweed on “lower slopes of hill prairies, meadows in wooded areas, thickets and woodland borders, bluffs and open woodlands, oak savannas, glades, and roadsides. This plant usually occurs along prairie edges near wooded areas, rather than in open prairie. It is usually found in higher quality habitats.” Alternatively, you can grow your own; Minnesota Wildflowers advises that this species “will bring the gift of insects and birds to your garden.”

Purple milkweed resembles common milkweed, but its flowers are a deeper color, “it is less hairy overall,” and its seed pods are smooth rather than prickled.

Four naturalists took the enclosed photographs in four different counties.

Nature enthusiast and talented photographer Katie Byerly shares images of a gorgeous and rare native plant. -promoted by desmoinesdem

Finding a new wildflower is always a treat. I was treated this spring when a wildflower friend, Ken Plagge, called to tell me that he had found a Small white lady’s slipper at Wilkinson Pioneer Park in Rock Falls (Cerro Gordo County). Also called White moccasin flower, Small white lady’s slipper (Cypripedium candidum) is a native orchid often associated with the words “rare” and “threatened.” It is found in prairie fens and wet/mesic prairies.

However, the treat did not end there. Ken and I soon found out from the Cerro Gordo County Conservation team that this flower’s presence had never been recorded at Wilkinson Pioneer Park. A short 24 hours after first seeing the plant, we were meeting with Mark Leoschke, a state botanist with the Iowa Department of Natural Resources, to help document the white lady’s slipper’s existence in Rock Falls.