Beyond Queset Garden, past the reflecting pool and hedgerows, is a “neglected” area that provides safe haven for plants and animals. This densely-vegetated thicket offers shelter to the cottontail rabbits, the woodchuck, and the garter snake. Bird songs emanate from this spot, dragonflies cruise over it, and bees and wasps visit its many blossoms.
In late July, I noticed an exquisite flower beginning to bloom there.
Wild Bergamot Flower Head
Each head contained many ornate, individual flowers in shades of pink and lavender. The clusters, which were about two-inches across, bloomed from the center towards the edges, thereby forming what Illinois Wildflowers calls “a wreath of flowers.” The image below shows the last ring of petals and the calyx tubes that have finished blooming. The plant’s seeds are developing in these tubes.
Wild Bergamot in Final Stages of Bloom
”In full bloom, the flower head looks like a little fireworks display,” according to the naturalist at Minnesota Wildflowers. As the flower fades, it more closely resembles a pin cushion. This gradual unfolding of blooms keeps the flowers attractive from mid-to-late summer – attractive to me and to its many visitors.
The plants themselves are about four feet tall, supported by a sea of porcelain berry, all growing near the ruined foundation in the back garden. Jewelweed and thistle grow nearby in this moist, sunny corner.
Wild Bergamot Among Porcelain Berry
This lovely perennial is wild bergamot, a widely-distributed North American native. As we get closer, you can observe the plant’s square stem and opposite branching.
Wild Bergamot with A Skipper
These features help identify the species as a member of the mint family. Brushing against its leaves adds further evidence as a pungent, minty/oregano fragrance fills the air. To be precise, our plant is Monarda fistulosa. Being in the genus Monarda, our plant is related to the showy bee balms that enliven home and public gardens.
Monarda didyma (Bee Balm) Cultivar in Garden Setting
With the mention of bergamot, your mind may have drifted to Earl Grey, the famous bergamot-flavored black tea, which would be a logical but incorrect connection. The ingredient that flavors Earl Grey comes from a southern Italian citrus fruit called bergamot orange. Because the fruit and the bee balm share fragrant components, “bergamot mint” is sometimes used as a less-expensive substitute.
This brings us to the issue of common names. For the sake of accessibility, I have most often used common names in this blog, but their regional variability and duplication can create considerable confusion. Monarda fistulosa (wild bergamot) and Citrus bergamia (bergamot orange) are vastly different plants. As scientists discovered long ago, it’s difficult to share observations when everyone is speaking a different language.
Rest assured, though, that wild bergamot is more than a wannabe Mediterranean orange. It has a long history of medicinal use among Native North Americans as an antiseptic and a treatment for colds. This “Plant Guide” from the USDA offers a concise summary of its ethnobotany. What’s more, Wikipedia reminds us that “Bee balm is the natural source of the antiseptic thymol, the primary active ingredient in modern commercial mouthwash formulas.” I won’t name names.
What I found most impressive about this wildflower wasn’t its beauty, fragrance, or history. Rather, it was the plant’s attraction to pollinators. Every time I’ve visited the bergamot patch, insects covered its flowers. There have been numerous skippers, honey bees, and bumble bees as well as non-pollinating visitors such as wasps and assassin bugs. Hummingbirds flew back and forth. Dragonflies looked for meaty meals. To pick one flower head from the bergamot patch required patient scouting for a pollinator-free blossom . . . and acting quickly before another would land.
This species spreads by rhizomes, that is, by underground stems. If all goes well, the library’s patch will expand each year.