Asclepias are one of the first seeds I started working with. The more commonly seen species in the DFW (Dallas-Fort Worth for those of you outside of Texas) area were not particularly appealing to me. I like Antelope horns (A. aspirula) and Green milkweed (A. viridis), but those delicate little blooms of whorled milkweed (A. verticiliata), that are so easy to bypass, un-noticed in the pasture, or the delicate pink porcelain blooms of rose milkweed (A. incarnata) drew my attention. The sheer variety of species that call Texas home pushed me to find out more…about those species that got pushed out of the limelight by the save the monarchs movement.
Side-note: I love that people are so eager to try to help such charismatic animals (yes, insects are animals) as the monarch, and I love that native wildflowers are slowly finding their place in our gardens again. However, people seem intimidated by growing wildflowers from seed. Identifying plants when in flower can be tough, and even harder when they aren’t in flower. Also, we don’t know how to “see” plants. We suffer from “plant blindness”. When we are so unfamiliar with plants as individuals, it makes it that much more daunting to attempt to grow them from seed.
Unfortunately, this also means that plants are typically recognized when they flower, and plants perish at attempts to “rescue” them from wild spaces. This results in a multitude of plants being dug when they are at the peak of their energetic exertion, putting out their beautiful blooms and preparing to seed. This, combined with inexperience in digging and transplanting in the most stress-free way possible for the plant results in the deaths of many valuable individual plants on the cusp of reproduction.
This isn’t to say that sometimes, due to development or a multitude of other things, plants DON’T need rescue, all I am saying is seed collection is the most ethical when executed mindfully, and plant rescues are far more successful through organized efforts of organizations like our local Master Naturalist, Master Gardeners, or other knowledgeable and experienced organizations.
Did you know Antelope horns milkweed has tremendous taproots? It comes back year after year in rocky, sandy soil. That taproot allows access to nutrients and moisture deep in the soil. Because of the nature of growing conditions, those roots really dig in there. The biggest mistake I see with trying to transplant established plants is digging when the plant is in flower, and failure to collect enough of the in-tact root mass to allow the plant to recover from the stress. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that monarchs use individual plants as landmarks on their migration journey. It would be a shame to learn we are digging up and killing all the monarch landmarks, or at least the stopovers and nurseries they rely on.
Hopefully, by sharing my experiences, I can help others learn how to be a little more fearless and a lot successful in growing plants from seed! I was not experienced in identifying potential habitat for flowers and plants that I wanted to get to know better, or confidently identifying those species I wanted to work with, so I purchased seed from reputable places, and started there. One of the hardest hurdles for me was thinking if I screwed up, I was ruining the chance for that seed to grow into the plant it was always meant to be. If you feel that, remember. Each season, one milkweed flower (if it’s lucky!) produces one seed pod. Not all of the flowers produce a seed pod.
When I collected whorled milkweed seed off our pocket prairie in Wise County, even though those charming little plants put out clusters of multitudes of flowers, each produced only one or two seed pods per plant. BUT. Each one of those pods had dozens of seeds in it. Without my interference, those seeds would have been carried on the wind, and eventually deposited, and by chance, either end up in a suitable spot, or not. THEN, maybe Texas will give us 30ish days of cold and moist, giving the seed a chance to germinate or not. THEN, maybe there will be enough consistent moisture for that seedling to establish a root system…or not. Basically, my point is, not all seeds will make it to germination regardless. Be fearless in trying what works for you.
I had read that Asclepias seeds are difficult to grow. I read over and over about people having little success with them. I didn’t have much hope when I scattered the first set of purchased seeds in my flower beds. I did not get a single plant from that entire packet to grow. Good thing too, as I had chosen Common Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca). I chose this species from a cursory look around the internet that indicated it was native to Texas. However, that’s not really the whole truth. When looking at the native status of plants, the USDA plant database is an incredibly useful tool to gain insight into native status and many other attributes of plants. This is one of the sources I sought out to learn which milkweed species were native to Texas, and to each individual county. As you zoom in on the map, states get broken down into county boundaries, and the map color changes to indicate native, non-native, and records of the plant in that county. The USDA map indicates that while Common milkweed is native, there are no county records in all of Texas. The Ladybird Johnson Wildflower Center native plant search also indicates Common milkweed is native to Texas. This fabulous organization gives access to an incredibly robust database of plants native to Texas, excluding invasives and introduced species. It is a great resource. It is not as detailed in records as the USDA plant database (which even gives you access to the distribution data file for download), but fabulous none the less.
So, what’s the deal? WELL. I downloaded the distribution data file from the USDA plant database, and I spoke with Texas Pollinator Powwow for some clarification. I met this organization while doing some prairie restoration work in Cleburne, TX in the course of my Masters Degree. This Texas based non-profit organization with an emphasis on outreach and education is a good resource for scientific publications and general information. They really do their legwork! They advised me to look at the Texas A&M document on Texas milkweeds, which indicates the shaky native status of Common milkweed, noting that verification of state existence is needed.
Turns out, there is one record of Common milkweed in Texas. It’s from Randall County in the West Texas/Panhandle area. This could indicate the record was the result of an individual that escaped cultivation, rather than being a naturally occurring native.
Though the Texas Milkweed identification document put out by Texas Parks and Wildlife doesn’t explicitly state that Common milkweed is non-native, this Bonap map indicates that while Common milkweed is native to the United States, it is not native to Texas, and the record in Randall county is an accidental occurrence (this is likely an escaped cultivar). Common milkweed is probably less of an ecological disaster than Tropical milkweed (A. curassavica) (please read more here, courtesy of the Xerces Society) and it is pretty. However, with more than 30 species of native milkweeds in Texas, there’s plenty of interesting ones to choose from!
I encourage you to explore your ecoregions, and select species native to your area. It is important to note that while adult monarchs do nectar on the flowers of milkweeds, adults nectar on a wide range of flowering plant species and the main benefit of milkweed to the monarch butterfly is food for caterpillars. If you choose to purchase plants, ensure they haven’t been treated with systemic pesticides, and try to look for botanical names that include the entire specific epithet. What the heck does that mean? Botanists as a group are very organized. The latin/botanical names given to plants comprise of the genus the plant belongs to, followed by it’s specific epithet, or unique descriptor. Milkweeds belong to the genus Asclepias. Each member of the genus is given a second “name” to describe it. Asclepias viridis is one of the more straight-forward names. It’s specific epithet simply means “green” referring to the hue of the blooms. Though, if you take time to observe them closely, the blooms are SO much more than just green.
Often, in nurseries, plants have been selectively bred for certain visual traits. They are usually given some marketable name, and tend to be vague at best with specific epithets. Often, no part of the botanical name or just the genus is listed, making it very hard for the consumer just trying to purchase native pants to support our local ecosystems. Additionally, some schools of thought consider “nativars” as useless in native and wildscape gardens, but that’s a topic for another day.
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