Category Archives: Wildlife Gardening

Fairy Crown #21 – Helianthus & Hummingbirds

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My 21st fairy crown for the end of August features a few dependable meadow plants for late summer here on Lake Muskoka.  The light-yellow daisy is Helianthus ‘Lemon Queen’, a popular hybrid of two species, H. pauciflorus var. subrhomboideus, stiff sunflower, and H. tuberosus, native Jerusalem artichoke.  The dark-centered daisy is sweet blackeyed susan (Rudbeckia subtomentosa). The little white daisies belong to lanceleaf aster (Symphyotrichum lanceolatum), which occurs naturally in my meadows.  I’ve also tucked in another naturally-occurring native, stiff goldenrod (Solidago rigida).  The cobalt-blue flowers belong to a tender perennial from my deck containers: anise-scented sage (Salvia guaranitica ‘Black & Bloom’), a cultivar from Ball Floral that is itself a cross between two older (unpatented) cultivars ‘Costa Rican Blue’ and ‘Black & Blue’.

Sweet blackeyed susan, aka sweet coneflower, below, is my favourite of the Rudbeckia genus for a few reasons. First, it has the most perfect flowers, below, which are much larger than other Rudbeckia species, and carried at the top of stems on plants that can reach a height of 1.5-2 metres (5-6 ft).  Second, though it is native to the American midwest north to Illinois and Michigan, it is perfectly hardy in Muskoka. Third, it flowers at the end of summer when the meadows need more colour.  Fourth, it has an interesting scent that is reflected in its third common name, fragrant coneflower.

It isn’t a huge pollinator draw, but I’ve seen the odd wasp or bee foraging on the flowers.

It is classed as a wetland species, preferring moist to mesic soil. While we certainly don’t have a wetland on our property, it is very happy in our partly shaded hillside meadow and at the bottom of our property at the rocky lakeshore where its roots are frequently bathed by the wake from passing boats.

In my west meadow, sweet blackeyed susan blooms simultaneously with Helianthus ‘Lemon Queen’, below.  They seem perfectly suited to be sharing this area, along with cup plant (Silphium perfoliatum).

On the other hand, I have a large drift of ‘Lemon Queen’ under my stairs, below, and this planting is visible every time I go into the cottage. That means I get to see it flop its head (all its heads) when the weather is very dry, forcing me to drag the hose over to perk them up again – something I’d never do in the meadow.

Bumble bees are frequent visitors to Helianthus ‘Lemon Queen’.

This is also the time of summer for native lance-leaf aster (Symphyotrichum lanceolatum) with its panicles of tiny white flowers. It is reportedly allelopathic (i.e. secretes a substance that hurts plants growing near it), but unless I’ve misidentified it, it doesn’t seem to have impeded the growth of its meadow-mates, below.

Bees enjoy foraging on it, including my rare meadow guest below, the yellow-banded bumble bee (Bombus terricola).

Stiff goldenrod, another member of the big goldenrod clan is in bloom now, though DNA analysis has assigned it to a different genus. These changes take a while to percolate through the literature and commerce, so many sources still list it as Solidago rigida, rather than Oligoneuron rigida.  But it is an exceptional goldenrod, gradually forming clumps….

…. with strong stems topped by rounded clusters of tiny flowers.  Like all “goldenrods”, it is a bee favourite, like this orange-belted bumble bee (Bombus ternarius).

Though my fairy crowns thus far have featured plants growing in my Toronto garden or in my meadows on Lake Muskoka, the 21st edition contains a few spikes of a tender South American perennial that I take great care to overwinter indoors under a window in my basement laundry tubs in the city so I can have it in my cottage deck containers each summer.  These are my “motley pots”, below, and the plant I’m referring to is the anise-scented sage with the blue spikes, Salvia guaranitica ‘Black and Bloom’, which is difficult to find in spring in Toronto garden centres.  I made this photo in the summer of 2019, but each year has a different cast of characters in my “Hummingbird Photo Studio”.  (If you click on the preceding link, you’ll see the popularity of this year’s experimental hummingbird favourite: standing cypress, Ipomopsis rubra.)


Their all-time favourite, however, is Salvia guaranitica ‘Black and Bloom’, below….

Ruby-throated hummingbird nectaring in Salvia guaranitica 'Black and Blooms'

I have grown lots of hybrid salvias including ‘Amistad’, ‘Wendy’s Wish’ and ‘Amber Wish’, and they all attract hummingbirds.

Here’s a little video I made of the ruby-throated hummingbird on various plants in my containers through the years:

When I made this fairy crown, I had 2 out of 3 of my sons in attendance, as well as my husband, below, and they were all good sports in this serendipitous project.

They didn’t get the full-on fairy crown treatment like the grandkids, but I made them all wear meadow flowers, including my eldest son, right, and his partner….

…..and my middle son, below. Youngest son is off in Italy being married in less than 2 weeks! I plan to walk him down the aisle, but my fairy crowns have been instructed to keep up the show until winter!

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Meet my 20 previous fairy crowns!

#1 – Spring Awakening
#2 – Little Blossoms for Easter
#3 – The Perfume of Hyacinths 
#4 – Spring Bulb Extravaganza
#5 – A Crabapple Requiem
#6 – Shady Lady
#7 – Columbines & Wild Strawberries on Lake Muskoka
#8 – Lilac, Dogwood & Alliums
#9 – Borrowed Scenery & an Azalea for Mom
#10 – June Blues on Lake Muskoka
#11 – Sage & Catmint for the Bees
#12 – Penstemons & Coreopsis in Muskoka
#13 – Ditch Lilies & Serviceberries
#14 – Golden Yarrow & Orange Milkweed
#15 – Echinacea & Clematis
#16 – A Czech-German-All American Blackeyed Susan
#17- Beebalm & Yellow Daisies at the Lake
#18- Russian Sage & Blazing Stars
#19-My Fruitful Life
#20-Cup Plant, Joe Pye & Ironweed

Fairy Crown #20 – Cup Plant, Joe Pye & Ironweed

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My 20th crown for August 19th had a sweet scent that was meant for the bees, not me, but I did appreciate the soft, vanilla perfume of the dusty-pink, hollow Joe Pye weed (Eutrochium fistulosum) that grows in the parts of my meadow that retain a little moisture. Along with it are the violet-purple flowers of New York ironweed (Vernonia noveboracensis); the big, yellow daisies of cup plant (Silphium perfoliatum); the small yellow blossoms of grass-leaved goldenrod (Euthamia graminifolia); and a few sprigs of rough goldenrod (Solidago rugosa).

The plants I gathered came mostly from my west meadow…..

….. where the New York ironweed and Joe Pye weed make excellent companions, appreciating the tiny extra bit of moisture at the midpoint of our sloping property and maturing at about the same height, 2-3 m (6-9 ft), depending on the season.

I think I bought my first plant at a nursery, but New York ironweed has popped up on our property in soil that was brought in from neighbouring woodlands. Provided it can maintain fairly damp feet, it is happy in our sandy conditions.

Bees adore it, as do butterflies like the great spangled fritillary, below….

….. and the ruby-throated hummingbird is a fan, too.

One of my favourite photos was of a female goldenrod crab spider disguised as an ironweed stamen, just awaiting her unwary prey.

The hollow Joe Pye weed attracts lots of bumble bees. It’s much paler than its spotted (E. maculatum) cousin.

Grass-leaved or flat-topped goldenrod is not a true goldenrod in the Solidago genus, though it was considered part of the gang until recently. It is one of the late summer “weeds” on our property, including near our Waterloo Biofilter septic structure, below, where it definitely emitted a light floral perfume (that was not that of the septic system).

Bumble bees, such as the red-belted bumble bee (Bombus ternarius) below, and other bees seem to love it during its rather short blooming period.

Another abundant goldenrod that occurs naturally on our property is rough goldenrod (Solidago rugosa). Better behaved than its cousin, Canada goldenrod, it is nonetheless proficient at spreading itself around, much to the delight of all kinds of bees.  This species gave rise to the popular garden cultivar ‘Fireworks’.

Finally, a few words about one of the tallest plants in my meadows, cup plant (Silphium perfoliatum).  I was given my first tuberous roots of this northeast native by the gardeners at Toronto’s Spadina House Museum, with a warning that it would be invasive and I might be sorry I planted it.  Fortunately, my meadows are filled with invasives and they all like to duke it out, so for the most part cup plant has been kept in check.  Here it is at the base of our stairs.

My meadows are dry and sandy which also works against its invasive tendencies. But I saw it on a riverbank at the Chicago Botanic Garden, below, and I can say that it would be much more aggressive in the moist soil that it craves.

It’s a great favourite of bumble bees…..

….. and, occasionally, of passing butterflies.

I’ve made up a little video on my cottage cup plants, with a humorously surprising last scene;

Finally, here’s a little August bouquet from my meadows to you… until the next fairy crown.

Fairy Crown #17 – Beebalm & Yellow Daisies at the Lake

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This is truly my favourite time of year in the meadows at our cottage on Lake Muskoka. Why?  Because the flower variety is at peak and the bees are at their most plentiful and buzzy. So my 17th fairy crown for August 5th celebrates the pollinator favourites here, including the champion, pink-flowered wild beebalm or bergamot (Monarda fistulosa), as well as yellow false oxeye (Heliopsis helianthoides), biennial blackeyed susan (Rudbeckia hirta), grey-headed coneflower (Ratibida pinnata) with its dark cones, mauve hoary vervain (Verbena stricta), oregano (Origanum vulgare) and a few of my weedy Queen Anne’s lace flowers (Dauca carota).  

I call my wild places on either side of the cottage ‘Monarda Meadows’ because wild beebalm (M. fistulosa) is the principal perennial there and in all the beds and wild places around our house, where it grows as a companion to Heliopsis helianthoides, below.

There’s a reason wild beebalm is called that; it’s a literal balm for the bees, specifically bumble bees whose tongues can easily probe the florets! 

Another frequent visitor to wild beebalm flowers is the clearwing hummingbird moth (Hemaris thysbe).

False oxeye (Heliopsis helianthoides) is one of the most aggressive natives I grow. I’m happy to leave it where it lands, but it often sulks in very sandy, sunny spots when summers are hot and dry.  It’s much better in the rich soil at the bottom of my west meadow, and I try to ignore all the red aphids that line the stems in certain summers.

But heliopsis also attracts its share of native bees, including tiny Augochlora pura, below.

Unlike the blackeyed susan I wrote about in my last blog, R. fulgida var. sullivantii ‘Goldsturm’, the ones I have at the lake are all the drought-tolerant native Rudbeckia hirta, below, with a long-horned Melissodes bee.  Biennials, they have seeded themselves around generously since 2003, when I first sowed masses of seed (along with red fescue grass) on the bare soil of the meadows surrounding our new house.

Sometimes they manage to arrange themselves very fetchingly, as with the perfumed Orienpet lily ‘Conca d’Or’, below.

Other times, they hang with the other tough native in my crown, hoary vervain (Verbena stricta).  Both are happy in the driest places on our property where they flower for an exceedingly long time….

…… as you can see from this impromptu bouquet handful featuring the vervain with earlier bloomers, coreopsis, butterfly milkweed and oxeye daisy.

Bumble bees love Verbena stricta.

The other yellow daisy in flower now — hiding at the top of my fairy crown — is grey-headed coneflower (Ratibida pinnata), also a favourite of bumble bees and small native bees in the meadows.  A vigorous self-seeder, it nevertheless does not always land in soil that is moisture-retentive enough for its needs; in that case, like heliopsis above, it wilts badly. But I love its tall stems bending like willows in the breeze.

Also in my fairy crown is a familiar hardy herb that fell from a pot on my deck long ago and found a happy spot in the garden bed below:  Greek oregano (Origanum vulgare var. hirtum).  

Its tiny flowers are also favoured by small pollinators.

The last component of my midsummer fairy crown is the common umbellifer Queen Anne’s lace (Daucus carota).  As much as we think of this as an unwanted invasive weed in North America, it was reassuring to see a native potter wasp, Ancistrocerus, making use of its small flowers.

As always, my fairy crown has a lovely second act as a bouquet.

Finally, I made a 2-minute musical video that celebrates these plants that form such an important ecological chapter in my summer on Lake Muskoka.

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Are you new to my fairy crowns?  Here are the links to my previous 15 blogs:
#1 – Spring Awakening
#2 – Little Blossoms for Easter
#3 – The Perfume of Hyacinths 
#4 – Spring Bulb Extravaganza
#5 – A Crabapple Requiem
#6 – Shady Lady
#7 – Columbines & Wild Strawberries on Lake Muskoka
#8 – Lilac, Dogwood & Alliums
#9 – Borrowed Scenery & an Azalea for Mom
#10 – June Blues on Lake Muskoka
#11 – Sage & Catmint for the Bees
#12 – Penstemons & Coreopsis in Muskoka
#13 – Ditch Lilies & Serviceberries
#14 – Golden Yarrow & Orange Milkweed
#15 – Echinacea & Clematis
#16 – A Czech-German-All American Blackeyed Susan

The Hummingbird Photo Studio

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Here’s a little story about hummingbird photography. You see, my deck pots at the cottage here on Lake Muskoka north of Toronto are not intended to be beautiful. If they were, I’d buy some of the spectacular hanging baskets that the garden centres sell, plop them in and just enjoy the colour and texture. That way, I’d have more time to swim, read, write and drink wine. No, instead I use my containers to lure hummingbirds in order to photograph them on favourite flowers for the stock photo library that is my business. That’s why I call the containers my “motley pots”. They don’t match – in fact they’re a bit ugly – but they do the job.

For many years, I’ve been buying “hummingbird groceries” in spring, i.e. food for the ruby-throated hummingbird. I don’t have a sugar feeder, but my lake neighbours do, so my groceries are plants. I’ve learned which species they like (purple lantana, cuphea), which they love (agastaches), and which they prefer above all others (most tender sages).

Their favourite would be Salvia guaranitica ‘Black & Blooms’ (or the similar ‘Black & Blue’). This tender sage is not easy to find in Toronto so I’ve been digging it up in autumn and taking it to the city, where it spends winter in pots in my basement laundry tubs under a window, dreaming of Argentina. I water it occasionally and it sends up growth all winter. In mid-spring, I cut it back to the new sprouts and bring it back to the cottage. Provided it gets watered and no frost occurs, it’s raring to go again by July.

Other hummingbird favourites in my pots this year are Cuphea Funny Face, below, and some Agastache aurantiaca cultivars in pink, apricot and yellow that I seeded myself in the city rather late in spring, so they’re still small but will be good by mid-August. I will leave these to drop seed, because they’re excellent self-seeders, even in pots. And when I was at the garden centre in May, I bought some red petunias (Supertunia Really Red). I didn’t think they’d be good for hummingbirds but as a plant photographer, a new plant purchase is never a waste for me. Surprisingly, the hummingbirds seem to appreciate them too!

And I tucked in a few plants of Verbena bonariensis Meteor Shower for their airy blossoms which the bumble bees adore, but it’s not a great hummingbird plant. Here it is with a compact form of S. guaranitica, Bodacious Rhythm & Blues that I bought this spring at the Toronto Botanical Garden’s plant sale.

But the big score this summer are my plants of the biennial standing cypress, Ipomopsis rubra (so-called because its ferny leaves resemble those of cypress trees). I had photographed this plant, a native of the U.S. in the alpine garden at the Montreal Botanical Garden, below, so I knew I could grow it.

But seed I’d purchased from a seedhouse did not germinate; it took fresh seed donated by my friend, seed maven Kristl Walek in Brockville, Ontario to do the trick. I sowed the seed in 2020, and last summer (2021) there were lots of little ferny rosettes here and there in my sandy, granitic soil. Kristl warned me they’re very hard to transplant when bigger, so I dug up a few of the small rosettes and carefully put them in 6-inch pots filled with gravelly soil, below. In late autumn before the ground froze, I dug a hole behind the cottage and placed the pots inside, surrounding them with pine needles and mulching the tops with pine needles, too. We had a cold, cold winter (it even killed the spongy/gypsy moth eggs) but lots of snow cover – perfect for insulating the plants.

This spring after the soil thawed, I dug up the pots and very carefully transplanted the little plants into my deck pots in soil amended with sand and gravel. I watered them in and away they went. This morning, the tallest is 54 inches high and 4 inches wide, much bigger than those in the dry meadows. I call them my Dr. Seuss plants. I even staked them so they wouldn’t break in our summer storms!

And the hummingbird loves them! Yesterday, I managed to do some still photos with my camera…..

….. but I wanted a little video too. After sitting for more than an hour and having the hummingbird fly in, spot me, then fly away, I decided to set up my camera on a tripod. Then I went in and made coffee. I went outside periodically and turned off the video and started a new one. Finally, five videos in, I spotted her from the kitchen. I went to the door with my cell phone to watch and after drinking her fill of Ipomopsis, she moved on to the red petunias and cuphea. I videotaped that part with my phone! (I’ll get closer with my zoom lens later this summer.)

The camera video of the standing cypress isn’t spectacular, but it will do. (I will increase the frames-per-second in the settings for future videos). I actually saved it first as a high-res movie, then as a smaller computer-resolution video. The original had the happy screams of the kids across the bay swimming and also a few wind gusts. In the second, I ditched the kids and the wind and added some music by TRG Banks. It’s not perfect — I’m a photographer, not a videographer — but it’s a good start!

All in all, a good morning in the hummingbird studio. Oh, and here’s an older video of my hummingbirds from previous years!

Fairy Crown 14-Golden Yarrow & Orange Milkweed

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With summer finally underway on Lake Muskoka, it’s time for a few of the stalwarts of my meadows and garden beds to feature in my 14th fairy crown. ‘Gold Plate’ yarrow (Achillea filipendulina) is hardy, low-maintenance and a dependable presence each July, well into August. I’ve written extensively about orange-flowered butterfly milkweed (Asclepias tuberosa) over the years, and it remains one of my top 3 perennials for pollinator attraction.  At the top of my crown and over my left ear, you can see one of the bumble bees’ favourite weeds:  yellow-flowered St. Johnswort (Hypericum perforatum).  And that pale-pink daisy flower in the centre of my forehead?  That’s lovely pale coneflower (Echinacea pallida), a native perennial I’m trying so hard to naturalize in my meadows – but it takes its own sweet time, and will not be rushed!

As the July nights grow warmer, our cottage screened porch plays host to dinners gathering family members from far away. And the meadows are now full of colorful blossoms that generously yield bouquets for the table. 

Creating informal floral arrangements is one of my favourite pastimes at the lake, using a variety of containers from old ceramic vases purchased for a few dollars at the second-hand store in the nearby town to antique medicine bottles, below, bought at a garage sale.

Early each July, monarch butterflies arrive in my meadows at Lake Muskoka, seemingly drawn by some generational homing instinct to find the orange-flowered perennials that provide not just abundant nectar, but foliage on which to lay their eggs and ultimately feed the caterpillars of the next generation.  

Here’s a little video I made:

That perennial, of course, is butterfly milkweed (Asclepias tuberosa) and it is one of my top 3 plants for pollinator gardening. (The two others will come later in my fairy crowns.)  It provides abundant nectar over a long period to a wide range of bees and butterflies, below.

But there is nothing more gratifying to me than counting all the monarch caterpillars on my milkweed plants, then watching them consume the leaves before disappearing to transform into the beautiful green chrysalis that becomes the butterfly.

With a wide native range from Newfoundland to Minnesota and Colorado and south to Texas and Florida, this is one of the most common milkweed species. In nature, it occurs in prairies, open woods and roadsides; it tolerates a range of soils from clay to limestone. For me, it grows in   the rich loam that was placed selectively in a few garden beds and in the acidic, sandy, well-drained soil of my meadows, below, with purple flowered Verbena stricta.

I’ve even had great germination results from kicking seeds into gravel on the path near our cottage.

It flowers for many weeks in July-August, reaching 2-3 feet (30-60 cm), and is a beautiful cut flower. Though it has a deep tap root and is described as being drought-tolerant, in the sandiest places on our property the leaves and blossoms wilt in a prolonged dry stretch while plants in more moisture-retentive sites thrive. It self-seeds readily, its oval follicles splitting open in fall to release its closely-packed seeds to the wind on delicate parachutes. 

One of the first perennials I planted at the cottage was the old-fashioned fernleaf yarrow Achillea filipendulina ‘Gold Plate’. Tall at 3-4 feet (90-120 cm) with sturdy stems and aromatic foliage, it is low-maintenance, ultra-hardy and bothered by nothing, including deer – unless you count…

….grasshoppers, which use the flat flowerheads as perches throughout summer. I see the odd sweat bee (Halictus ligatus) working the tiny flowers, but this yarrow is not known for its pollinator appeal. I planted it originally in richer soil than most of my meadows, and it generally prefers more moisture than many of my prairie perennials. Picked at the right time, it makes a long-lasting dried flower, keeping its gold color for years.

Pale coneflower (Echinacea pallida) is an enigma in my meadows, and one I’m patiently trying to encourage for its early bloom time, elegant flowers with their narrow, pale-pink petals and attraction to pollinators. This echinacea, originally considered an Ontario native, is now believed to have ‘ridden the rails’ into Canada from tallgrass regions in Iowa and Illinois, as part of freight shipments of “prairie hay” for cattle feed. It is more drought-tolerant than its cousin, purple coneflower (E. purpurea); indeed it flops in soil with too much moisture.  So year by year, I distribute seeds of the plants I have and keep my fingers crossed that one day they’ll be a major presence in my meadows.

St. Johns wort (Hypericum perforatum) is another weed brought to North America by settlers in the 18th century and is abundant in waste places on Lake Muskoka. An aggressive self-seeder and avoided by grazing animals, it is considered an invasive and detrimental weed when it invades rangeland. But try telling that to bumble bees and other native bees that forage busily on it in early summer to gather its abundant brown pollen.  Like dandelions, St. Johns wort is considered a ‘facultative apomict’, meaning it can make seed without fertilization – always a desirable attribute for a weed!

Some days in July as I’m working in the meadow, I hear the familiar “ke-eee” call above; looking up, I see our native broad-winged hawk (Buteo platypterus) wheeling in big circles on the hunt for small rodents and birds. Occasionally, it lands on an oak bough and peers down into the grasses, looking for lunch.

The hawk is just one of many birds on Lake Muskoka, a soundtrack that includes the slightly wonky multi-note song of the song sparrow, below; the pine warbler; red-eyed vireo; eastern phoebe; blue jay; black-capped chickadee; American goldfinch; hermit thrush and many others. Oh! And by the way, if you don’t have the Merlin Bird ID app installed on your phone, what are you waiting for? Such fun to hear that that piercing call is a Great Crested Flycatcher!

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Here are my previous fairy crowns for 2022:
#1 – Spring Awakening
#2 – Little Blossoms for Easter
#3 – The Perfume of Hyacinths
#4 – Spring Bulb Extravaganza
#5 – A Crabapple Requiem
#6 – Shady Lady
#7 – Columbines & Wild Strawberries on Lake Muskoka
#8 – Lilac, Dogwood & Alliums
#9 – Borrowed Scenery & an Azalea for Mom
#10 – June Blues on Lake Muskoka       
#11 – Sage & Catmint for the Bees
#12 – Penstemons & Coreopsis on Lake Muskoka
#13 – Ditch Lilies & Serviceberries