A Love Letter to Smooth Solomon’s Seal

Each spring, I look with admiration on my drifts of an Ontario native plant that asks so little of me, but gives so much in return: Polygonatum biflorum, smooth Solomon’s seal.  Its tapered shoots emerge in April in my north-facing back garden, where the clumps under the black walnut tree that looms over my sideyard pathway are surrounded by the tiny flowers of the bulbous spring ephemeral Corydalis solida.

By mid-late May, looking back towards my garden gate, the corydalis has disappeared but the Solomon’s seals stand three feet tall.

It’s still early in the garden when they flower, the grasses in my deck pots still just inches high.

The colony in the back corner of the garden grows near a Tiger Eyes sumac and has as its neighbour fall monkshood (Aconitum carmichaelii ‘Arendsii’), not yet visible. Both enjoy the same shade-dappled, slightly moist, humus-rich soil.

It’s a testament to the travelling power of Solomon’s seals that they do sometimes subsume other plants. This ‘Ballade’ lily tulip – one of my favourites – is resisting.

But nothing keeps Allium hollandicum ‘Purple Sensation’ from rearing its pretty head.

My garden features a number of invasive plants – some native, like ostrich fern (Matteucia struthiopteris), others enthusiastic exotics, like my lily-of-the-valley, aka ‘guerilla of the valley’ (Convallaria majalis).  (I’ve written about that pest before in my blog about making a perfumed garden party hat!)  But Solomon’s seal is up to the challenge and can stand its ground.

One that didn’t fare so well in competition with the Solomon’s seals was wild geranium (G. maculatum), shown below in a photo from a previous spring.  

At the Toronto Botanical Garden, blue Amsonia tabernaemontana, shown in the background below, makes a pretty companion for Solomon’s seal.

I love the way the pearl-drop flower buds of smooth Solomon’s seal open, curling up their green tips like dainty skirts.

In November, the leaves turn yellow-gold.

Solomon’s seal and other woodland lovers were featured in ‘Shady Lady’, one of #Janetsfairycrowns from 2021, which I blogged about last year.

My next-door neighbour grows smooth Solomon’s seal as well; it met with the approval of the resident male cardinal.

Finally, speaking of cardinals, here’s a tiny video made in my garden featuring smooth Solomon’s seal with my regular choristers, cardinals and robins.

Fairy Crown #6 – Shady Lady

If my fairy crown for May 24th makes me look like a shady lady, blame it on the woodland plants now emerging under deciduous trees freshly leafed-out in my garden.  Most prominent in my crown is lily-of-the-valley (Convallaria majalis), which I have nicknamed “guerilla of the valley” for its invasive nature. Native Solomon’s seal (Polygonatum biflorum) with its pendant, green-tipped, white flowers is visible over my right eye. The fuzzy white flowers are fothergilla, from the shrubs in my front pollinator garden. The lavender-blue flowers are Camassia leichtlinii ‘Caerulea’, and since the fragrant snowball viburnum (V. x carlcephalum) was still perfuming the air, I added one of those, too.

Most prominent of my woodlanders is native Solomon’s seal (Polygonatum biflorum). I love this plant – for its tall, elegant stems that always arch in the same direction, its pendant, pearl-drop flowers, its brilliant, gold autumn color and its absolute ease of care.

Each year, my drifts get a little bigger but it is easy to pull out by the roots if it meanders too far down a border. It thrives in a partly shaded location in my side yard garden where, along with other woodlanders, it flanks the winding entrance path under my massive black walnut tree and is a joy from spring to fall.

Alas, the same cannot be said of my lily-of-the-valley (Convallaria majalis).  I suspect many gardeners have come to regret the day they bought a certain plant or ignored one already growing in their gardens. Since we’ve lived in our house for almost 40 years and there was not much here in the way of gardens when we bought it, I suspect it was hiding under overgrown shrubs along the property line. So when I began to dig out new beds and borders, enriching the soil with amendments and adding a big roster of desirable perennials, the lily-of-the-valley began its territorial march. So stealthy was this invasion and so quickly did it change the dynamic of my garden that I renamed it ‘guerilla-of-the-valley’.  You can see it as a green carpet under the bulbs in this photo of my grandson tiptoeing through the tulips.

Not everyone has this problem; indeed many friends find it difficult to grow and would love a few pips; some garden writers even call it a “useful groundcover”. To that, I point to their dense, mat-like roots so tough to dig out and mutter Caveat emptor

Nevertheless, the fragrance from my front garden in mid-May is enchanting and I always enjoy cutting the stems for little bouquets, either on their own or combined with other flowers in bloom now, including the fragrant viburnums, blue camassia, common grape hyacinth and small daffodils, including amazing, long-lasting ‘Golden Echo’, below.

I once even created a perfumed lily-of-the-valley hat for a garden party, and gave the how-to instructions in this blog!

In my front yard pollinator garden, the fothergilla shrubs (F. ‘Mount Airy’) come into flower now with their scented, cream-white, bottlebrush inflorescences.  Depending on the amount of summer sunshine and rain or irrigation my garden receives (and fothergilla does prefer adequately moist soil), the leathery leaves take on vivid fall colours of yellow, gold, apricot, scarlet and purple.

I love white and blue combinations in the garden and this fothergilla-camassia duo is delightful.

Camassia leichtlinii ‘Caerulea’ is such a lovely spring bulb, a cultivar of Pacific Northwest native Leichtlin’s camas or ‘quamash’ that is surprisingly hardy in the east.  My camassia clumps expand each year, as they do in the camas prairies of British Columbia, Washington and Idaho where their edible roots which were a food staple for native peoples. The gorgeous blue flowers offer nectar to queen bumble bees, below, and honey bees provisioning their nests; they also make beautiful cut flowers. 

Camassia has a place in my lily pond garden in the back yard as well.

Like tulips and daffodils, camassia foliage should be allowed to turn yellow to feed the underground bulb. If camassia has a fault, it’s that the blooms last such a short time, but for me, a brief, utterly memorable scene is better than one that lasts so long that you stop noticing it. Here’s a little musical video tribute.

Along with the camassia, the weeks-long parade of tulips culminates now with the Single Late tulips featuring elegant flowers on tall stems.

Among my many favorites are purple-black ‘Queen of Night’….

….rose-pink ‘Menton’…..

….and orange-scarlet ‘El Nino’…..

… with its cyclone swirls of salmon, orange, yellow and pink.

******

Want to see more of my Fairy Crowns? 
#1 – Spring Awakening
#2 – Little Blossoms for Easter
#3 – The Perfume of Hyacinths 
#4 – Spring Bulb Extravaganza
#5 – A Crabapple Requiem

June Perfume

Ah, June.  It’s been a fragrant week or so in my garden, especially in the early evenings as I worked to fill my containers.  Three white flowers accounted for the perfume; blooming together, they were intoxicating, yet reminded me curiously of soap.   All around me was lily-of-the-valley, (Convallaria majalis) emitting an evocative perfume I’d know blindfolded.  Leaving aside the fact that’s it been a stealth invader on an unstoppable march to dominate my entire garden, its iconic fragrance has inspired some of the greatest perfumes, particularly Coty’s Muguets de Bois and Christian Dior’s Diorissimo.

Convallaria majalis - lily-of-the-valley If perfume is music, the fragrant viburnums are crashing cymbals, especially the big-flowered snowball viburnum (Viburnum x carlcephalum), a robust cross between the early, sweet-scented Viburnum carlesii and V. macrocephalum var. keteleeri.  Provided the squirrels don’t eat the buds – which they seem to love – I always have a few blooms poking up beside the sitting area on my deck. Fragrant Snowvall Viburnum - V. <span id=How does this common postural pattern produce compensatory hip, back and pelvic pain? Let’s embark by reviewing notable cialis online pharmacy research regarding functional and structural short right legs and then discuss theories, assessments and corrections that help deal with this troublesome disorder. The medication allows more blood to flow towards the genital area upon sexual arousal, resulting in an erection. viagra prescription australia Lump in your testicles: If there is any spinal raindogscine.com cheap viagra trauma. Increasing cases of erectile dysfunction has made condition inconsequential to suffering persons. generic levitra australia x carlcephalum” width=”800″ height=”533″ />                                                                   And this year, for the first time, I put my nose into the Solomon’s seals that grow along my side yard path and sniffed their light perfume.  Though these are the native North American Polygonatum biflorum, not the European P. odoratum – which, by its Latin name, is obviously scented – there was a decided fragrance from these lovely, swan-like stems. Solomon's seal - Polygonatum biflorum Mmmmm….. June perfume.  I wish I could dab just a little behind my ears and breathe it in when the snow flies in January.