Not Yet Native of the Week: Queen-of-the-Prairie

Newly emerged Meadowhawk (Sympetrum sp.) on Queen-of-the-Prairie

The last two weeks have been bleak in central Alberta. The sun has been seldom seen and the cold abnormal. The pancake ice on the River is already accumulating in the bends. Except for the leaves flash-frozen on the trees and the still brown jackrabbits, the Home Bug Garden looks very much like it is mid-winter.

Early winter catches plants and pond napping

The pond and bubbler worked their usual  magic with the migratory warblers and sparrows this Fall. Now except for a junco or two the migrants are gone, but the Black-capped Chickadees, House Finches, and a Blue Jay still visit the bubbler in late afternoon. It seems a bath is a pleasure even in the subzero snow. So, I've left the bubbler valiantly bubbling on. I'll have to shut it down before it seizes up, but at the moment it is not going gently into the long winter night.

And it will be a long winter night: 6-7 months until things green-up again. So why wait to start remembering the pleasures of the summer gone? Queen-of-the-Prairie (Filipendula rubra (Hill) B.L. Rob.), also known as Meadowsweet, was one of those pleasures, as it has been every summer since 2005. Planted in heavy clay soil between the pond and the north side of the house, where little else will grow, the single pot has expanded to cover 4-5 square meters and offsets have been moved to three other equally difficult spots.

Meadowsweet grows tall - 2-3 metres - and tends to sprawl

In spite of the feet-of-clay, rather coarse foliage, and a tendency to sprawl, Queen-of-the-Prairie can be quite regal. Our plants get maybe 2-3 hours of direct light in mid-summer, but manage to climb to almost 3 metres some years. A bit of sprawling (towards the sun) and under 2.5 metres is more common.

A royal plume to brighten the July-August garden

The plants are usually in full bloom by the second or third week of July and highly attractive to pollinators. That said, I haven't found any seedlings. Queen-of-the-Prairie is a bog or wet meadow plant, so the conditions may not be right for seedlings, but ours is spreading vegetatively at a moderate pace. I've been considering it for planting alongside the dugout at our pasture in the country, but the Global Compendium of Weeds lists Queen-of-the-Prairie as "casual alien, garden thug, naturalized". I understand the first and third terms - indeed they are defined in the Introduction to the Global Compendium of Weeds. So although Queen-of-the Prairie has become naturalized in eastern Canada, no one is terribly upset, yet. The middle term, "garden thug", is not defined in the Introduction and seems to be a bit of xenophobic editorializing.  

Garden Thug or Endangered Native, it is all in the context

As the Northern Shade Gardener noted in the comments to the last 'Not yet native' post, although the Home Bug Garden isn't blessed/plagued with English Daisy seedlings, her garden recruits a few each year. Weediness is in the eyes of the beholder, and ecosystems would experience constant change even if human beings had never evolved, but who would want to be responsible for introducing an environmental weed? 

Weedy and not yet attractive - the new dugout in our Gopher Hill pasture

Queen-of-the-Prairie is an endangered or threatened plant in several states in the US, its somewhat magical 'native' range. In its naturalized range in eastern Canada, this meadowsweet doesn't seem to have anyone up in arms. So in no sense is Queen-of-the-Prairie a noxious or even an inconvenient weed. Yet, it does not grow in Alberta without human intervention. At the moment, a noxious weed, Canada Thistle, is the dominant plant on the shores of our dugout. We are required, by law, to control this weed. By far the best way to control a weed is to plant something that can shade it out, steal its water, and prevent it from setting seed.

Spider wasp hunting on the disturbed dugout soil among thistle leaves

Tigre beetles and spider wasps find this rather ugly gash in the landscape an attractive hunting ground. No matter, by the end of next year the shore will be filled in with plants and the hunters will need to find another disturbed spot. So, should we try the non-native Queen-of-the-Prairie as a replacement for the thistle? If you follow the links in this post, you will know as much as I do. Consider this the first Home Bug Garden Not-yet-Native-of-the-Week challenge: let me know what you think.

Deluges & Devil's Darning Needles

Bee-dazzled, not; be-puddled instead

"Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud, Turn forth her silver lining on the night?" Perhaps John Milton (1634) had a better relationship with clouds than I, but for the last few days the clouds over the Home Bug Garden have been turning forth only rain and mud. Not the best of bugging weather, but it does make it easier to approach some of the larger insects, such as this black & blue beauty.

Back end of a Devil's Darning Needle

The largest insects to grace the Home Bug Garden are usually not natives, but transients. In particular, large dragonflies in the genus Aeshna: the Mosaic Darners. As large as small birds (about 7 cm long with a 9 cm wingspread), and every bit as agile when warm, the darners clackety swoops and hairpin turns never fail to impress, especially in the confines of a small garden.

Rather demonic looking, especially if you are a mosquito

Well, maybe having a large insect zipping circles around you isn't everyone's cup of tea, especially given the stories one hears about scolds, screeching children, and the profane having their lips sown shut by the Devil's Darning Needles. If only. Alas, the rude and over-excited have nothing to fear from darners.

Variable Darner, most likely, Aeschna interrupta

But one just-so story does have some basis in fact. Well-intentioned biologists often make preposterous claims about their favourite organism's abilities to protect us from pests. But unlike bats and spiders, darners really are bad-news for mosquitoes. 

Spiny legs scoop insects out of the air and into the maw of doom

During last year's horror mosquito summer, HBG and his wife had one magical half hour by the lake when about 3 dozen darners swooped in to attack. Back and forth almost faster than the eye could follow, the hovering cloud of mosquitoes disappeared as the darners scooped them out of the air and gobbled them up. Alas, they then moved on. Darners are superb fliers and able to stray far from their natal lakes and ponds.

Even an Oil Sands Beetle may prefer a cloud's illusion

Well, enough of clouds for the moment, and please let the Weather Office be right in its predictions for the next few days (even if it is by chance). I'm at the point where cloud illusions is what I would prefer to recall.