Like most things that used to pop up in my garden unexpectedly, the green giant I would eventually come to know as boneset was once cause for deep suspicion.
Its leaves were nondescript and thin, signaling a tenuous grasp on its circumstances. Among the zinnias and sunflowers and voluptuous native phloxes, this plant looked out of place at best and, on its worst days, like the lost soul at the seventh grade dance.
Whether inspired by some deep empathy for that feeling of not belonging or just a growing recognition that nothing is ever what it seems—or maybe a little of both—I decided to let it grow. And grow. And grow some more.
Until one day, my mystery plant finally bloomed. It was toward the end of a hot summer, when all the bright stars of the garden were waning and the tiny pollinators were running out of dining options. A composite flower, the species offered what so many others can’t: a last delicious stop on the breeding and migration highway.
Mostly the plant seemed to attract tiny bees and wasps, seemingly hundreds at a time. Within a few years, it made its presence known in almost every cultivated plot on our property—not so much in an intrusive way but rather in a manner that said, “I’m here, somebody loves me, and I don’t care what you think anymore.”
Once I’d identified the species as Eupatorium serotinum and Eupatorium perfolatium (I’m pretty sure we have both), I began to realize this was a rebel with a cause. As is too often the case with our natives, even its nicknames—boneset, thoroughwort, feverwort—were ill-fitting of its beauty and life-sustaining properties.
Perhaps these monikers made sense when the leaves were used to treat dengue fever. But now? They cast the species as so much litter on the side of the highway instead of a critical late summer and fall food for bees, wasps and butterflies. The plant is even a favorite of blue-winged wasps (scolia dubia), who keep Japanese beetles in check by laying eggs in the beetles’ larvae.
You’ve probably never heard that about this plant. In fact, you’ve probably never heard of this plant at all. And that’s because boneset has a branding problem. Attractive to some of the most stunning insects on the continent, it has an undiscovered inner beauty and a breathtaking appearance. But it is largely ignored.
Things may be looking up for this wild wallflower, though. Last spring at a favorite native plant center, Herring Run Nursery in Baltimore, I was heartened to hear someone approach a volunteer to say, “Excuse me, do you have any boneset?” Just before she was whisked away to the aisle of all things cultivated and appropriate, I invited the woman to my house, only half-jokingly, to dig up some of the many volunteer bonesets that had spread throughout the property.
And I would have followed through on the offer, had my fellow native plant enthusiast not done what most people do when confronted by something outside convention: laughed nervously without really looking at me and moved on, following the guide to the place where she could comfortably purchase a native plant in a plastic pot and go home. I can’t say I blame her. But I wish it were different. And I’ll keep trying to make it so by letting things bloom where they’ve planted themselves and inviting others to join, even at the risk of being a nerdy boneset in a field of zinnia-laden glam.
Heck, I’ll take some. I see lots by the road side, even coming up in parking lots. They are beautiful.
Drew, yes, they are like billowy clouds on the roadside. I’d love to share — little seedlings keep sprouting in my paths, and I’m incapable of pulling out perfectly good plants unless I can find them nice homes!
I think boneset is beautiful. I don’t have any on my property. I have a little snakeroot that looks similar. I read that snakeroot is invasive but some of it is actually dieing. I don’t know why.
Ellen, I wonder what’s happening there. I don’t think I’ve planted snakeroot, but it appears to be pretty hardy. Maybe you can put in some boneset instead. 🙂
I think this is what I have coming up in a ditch. It seems to be doing nicely there – but I do wonder about moving it to somewhere I can protect it more. Suggestions?
Steph, it’ll probably continue to do well in the ditch. One thing I love about this plant is that it decides where it wants to be and then flourishes there. But if you want to move it, you can pretty much put it anywhere. It likes sun but can get along nicely in part shade, too.
Just wondering if this info is anecdotal? or are there any citations to back this up? This is great info, in any case. Thanks for sharing it.
Hi Joey! Thank you – I’m so glad you find it helpful! And yes, even though they’re mixed in with musings on my own garden, the facts were verified with reputable sources. I assume you’re probably referring specifically to the wasps’ predation on Japanese beetle grubs–something I definitely have not seen myself but learned about through these sources:
The blog of Mike Raupp, one of my favorite entomologists: http://bugoftheweek.com/blog/2014/9/1/white-grubs-beware-the-blue-winged-digger-wasp-iscolia-dubiai-has-arrived
This site from the University of Michigan:
http://animaldiversity.ummz.umich.edu/accounts/Scolia_dubia/
And this biologist’s blog:
http://nativeplantwildlifegarden.com/the-saga-of-the-japanese-beetle-in-north-america/
Also, boneset as a treatment for dengue fever is mentioned in USDA and cooperative extension fact sheets, among other places. Here’s one:
http://plants.usda.gov/factsheet/pdf/fs_eupe3.pdf
Hope this helps! 🙂
I’m so glad I stumbled onto your blog . (I think it was when a friend or page I follow posted your pokeweed post on Facebook). I’m learning a lot from you. Now that you’ve pointed out Boneset, I’m seeing it everywhere and am delighted to see it growing on the property where we are building a house and will be moving in the next couple of months. Saw tons of butterflies on it there yesterday.
Look forward to learning more from you!
Thank you, Melanie! I’m so glad it’s been helpful to you. And I follow your blog, too! It’s taken me a few weeks to get used to WordPress, so I didn’t realize I had missed the one about pigeons. So sweet, and I agree with your sentiments about maligned animals. I think we must be soul sisters; that photo of a red-spotted purple as your featured image looks so much like the ones I took of red-spotted purples drinking from the cracks in my driveway last year. Long live the boneset and butterflies and pokeweed and pigeons!
This article was beautiful and fun. Love your writing style! <3
Hi Julie, thank you! <3
I came across it like you did. Wonderful plant. It seems to attract the widest variety of insects of any plant in my newly native garden. It just vibrates with all the activity.
It sure does! In the years since I wrote this post, I also discovered that monarchs use dried leaves of boneset (and some other plants) to collect compounds that they need in their defenses! It’s so interesting – here is a post I wrote about that, with links to a community science project we started. We’d love to get some reports from Texas and other places on the main migratory route! https://www.humanegardener.com/monarch-rx-calling-all-butterfly-watchers/
I have a “bush” that grows every year between my hostas and honeysuckle…for years I had no idea what it was and today I finally found out! I also have 13 carpenter bees homes in my deck rafters and try to keep a “somewhat”(used very loosely) natural/planned out’ish’ yard as I have planted some plants,but after that the most I do is water and remove old victims to make space for the new. I always noticed that the huge flowers he sports had a ton of action,so I left it..he is currently about 2½ft in diameter and an easy 5-6ft tall,an it’s only June! After reading this I will keep doing what I’m doing and leave him alone,after all he worked so hard to get noticed,it’s the least I can do! Thanks for the knowledge,I do appreciate it (I’m sure he does as well)..I think I’ll call him Bo.
Hi Amy – that’s great! I’m so glad to know this helped you figure out your mystery plant. 🙂 Hope your Bo is getting ready to bloom now!