Garden Capers

Flower Tales

I was eleven when I read Jack in the Pulpit by John Greenleaf Whittier. The poem's metaphors and message were appealing because I felt more connected to God in a natural setting than I did sitting on a hard pew in church. The antique book's beautiful illustrations and captivating flower names piqued my botanical curiosity.  Were Jack-in-the-pulpits, Anemones and Wild-Wood Geraniums real flowers? I thought Anemones lived in the sea; it turned out the sea creatures were named after the flower species. 

     Decades later I nearly fell in the boggy end of Blueberry Pond while touring The Bibby and Harold Alfond Children's Garden at the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens. I was crossing the stepping-stones when I was distracted by a miracle—Jack-in-the-pulpits flourishing in nature instead of on paper. 

     My botanical education and interests have broadened as a Horticultural Therapist and University of Missouri Master Gardener Emeritus. I want to know if a plant is edible, ornamental, medicinal, poisonous or a combination of the four. I'm especially interested in ornamental, poisonous, native and invasive plants. I'm intrigued by a plant's evolution and back-story, how the plant was named and whether or not it was attached to a myth.

     Carolyn Keene sparked my love for Larkspur (Delphinium ajacis) when I saw the stunning, spiky flowers on the cover of The Password to Larkspur Lane. I didn't see the nearly-blue flowers growing outside a botanical garden until I moved to Southwest Missouri in 1995. I planted seeds and jumped up and down when the first buds opened.

     Larkspur has existed for thousands of years and remains one of my favorite flowers. In ancient times they were used for treating wounds and killing parasites. Tradition holds that Larkspur wards off scorpions and poisonous snakes. (Tall tale alert: four summers ago I was stung by a scorpion two feet away from my Larkspur patch.)

     One of my favorite Greek myth's concerns Larkspur (Delphinium ajacis) and Achilles. When Achilles was killed his armor was supposed to be given to the most heroic Greek living. The most eligible candidates were Odysseus and Ajax. Minerva swayed the vote to Odysseus because she believed heroes should mix intelligence with bravery. (Ajax wasn't the brightest mythological warrior.)

     Ajax went mad when he lost and killed a herd of sheep—he thought they were rivals—before he did the honorable thing and impaled himself on his sword. Larkspur flowers grew where Ajax's blood touched the soil, which explains why the Greek letters AI, the Greek cry of mourning, can be found on larkspur petals and Larkspur's other common name is 'the knight's spur.'

     Whoa, back up this myth. I've never seen a Larkspur petal initialed with "AI." Maybe I picked a misleading myth. Or perhaps my vision has changed.

Photo: Jack-in-the-pulpit (Arisaema triphyllum)