A kind-hearted gardener

Around midsummer, a plant sprouted up in the little garden area by our front door. It wasn’t something we had planted, and I had no idea what it was. The stems grew longer and leggier. Maybe it was a goldenrod? I decided that rather than pull it out I’d wait until it bloomed and see if I could I.D. it then.

I have no idea how often I’ve let this scenario play out: a mystery plant crops up and I let it continue to grow. I know that if I’m watchful, and pull plants before they drop their seeds, none of these uninvited guests will overrun the garden. Theoretically, that is. Because my curiosity can often get the better of practicality: I don’t get to deadheading in time, and I end up with too many of something I didn’t plan for and don’t want. Sometimes a moment of kind-heartedness and curiosity can lead to hours of weeding later in the season. Or even over a couple of seasons.

This year’s mystery plant finally started to bloom the last week of September, the buds opening into beautiful, tiny white starbursts with bright yellow centers. If I’ve keyed it out correctly, what we’ve got is Frost Aster (Symphyotrichum pilosum), a perennial that is native to central and eastern U.S. and Canada. The Illinois Wildflowers website notes that while this plant is easy to cultivate, “it can spread aggressively by reseeding itself, especially in open disturbed areas.” So, I’ll need to cut down the stems to prevent reseeding if I want to avoid an overgrowth next year.  

For now, we’re in a happy truce. This single Frost Aster has crisscrossed its long stems with their small, narrow leaves over a patch of native pachysandra, making a sort of bower. It’s easy to imagine fairies living there, a notion that doesn’t occur to me among orderly rows of vegetables or tended flower beds. Of course I’m not expecting to see any “little people,” but I’ve watched small bees coming to visit. Overall, it’s a lovely, unexpected addition to the early fall garden and I’m glad that I waited to see how it would turn out.