Mistflower

 

“The smallest flower is a thought,
a life answering to
some feature of the Great Whole...”
~ Honore de Balzac

There is a wildflower I’m especially fond of that comes up along the edges and unlikely places in my yard, and starts blooming in late summer.  It always makes me happy to see the tiny toothed leaves emerge from the ground, because I know that they’ve reseeded and will do just fine with absolutely no help from me.  It’s still blooming in late November but going to seed.  The common name is Mistflower; these have blooms of lavender and soft violet, and from a distance the many stamens and coloring sometimes gives the appearance of distant mist drifting over the ground.  

I’m often fascinated by the self-similarity of its leaves.  Each tiny leaf a miniature of the largest.  You could argue that many plants are like this (and some are), but it’s the way these branch and divide and arrange its heart-shaped leaves that captivates me.  I’m not good at fractal geometry, but I enjoy how Mistflower shows up in the world.  If you don’t know fractals, here is a partial definition from the FractalFoundation,org:  “Fractals are infinitely complex patterns that are self-similar across different scales.” 

The tiny leaves are miniatures of the largest leaves.

Patterns appear everywhere in nature – some seem random, and some quite precise.  Some patterns depend on the macro or the micro view.  When I think of self-similar things, I’m reminded of mineral structures.  I know, an unlikely sideways jaunt from botany to geology – but this is one of the things I love about nature journaling.  I never know where it might take me.

Those who know me well, know that I also love rocks.  Geology is a huge part of the why of things, but that’s a subject for another time.  One of the more interesting things I’ve learned is that the atomic structure of a mineral is reflected in the external crystal structure.  In other words, we can look at pure salt crystals in our hand and predict that we’ll see similar crystal shapes under the microscope.  This is because they fracture along specific structural lines.  Other minerals and impurities can change this, but generally the microscopic pattern determines the real-world pattern. 

I don’t know enough to say that this is what happens in the plant world, just saying that the natural world is an amazing place and full of unexpected patterns and connections.  We just have to change our viewpoint.   Do you find yourself fascinated by patterns as well?  What connections do you make? 

My nature journal page.

Media: 

• Micron Pigma 01 pen
• Kimberly watercolor pencils
• Aquabee Super Deluxe drawing paper 93 lb.

For more about Mistflower
From Florida Wildflower: https://flawildflowers.org/flower-friday-conoclinium-coelestinum/

Dip into fractals
Fractals in nature from Dave’s Garden:  https://davesgarden.com/guides/articles/view/1966

Fractals in everything: https://news.globallandscapesforum.org/43195/fractals-nature-almost-all-things/

A long but fascinating article on why fractals resonate with us:
https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2017/01/why-fractals-are-so-soothing/514520/

Dig into mineral structures

Cleavage and fracture properties explained in easy-to-understand language on page 4:

https://www.baschools.org/vimages/shared/vnews/stories/5034e6f71f062/Chapter%2014%20Section%20Two.pdf

An open textbook, in-depth on crystal morphology: https://opengeology.org/Mineralogy/10-crystal-morphology-and-symmetry/

 

 

Mistflower

Conoclinium coelestinum

A.K.A. Wild ageratum, Blue mistflower

I often notice this fluffy-headed wildflower growing along the edges of moist woods or grassy areas.  A member of the composite family (Asteraceae), the blooms lack the disk flowers commonly associated with composites.  The long stamens of the ray flowers give it that fluffy look.  The color of these little flowers is hard to describe.  In my sketch you’ll see shades of lavender, pink, and blue – all colors I picked out on close observation.  From a distance they look bluish, but on film they tend to look more pink.  A bit of a challenge for an artist…

Blue, lavender, or pink?

Besides being attractive in form and color, the flowers attract bees and butterflies, and the plants are easy to propagate from seed.  You’ll notice that the dates on my sketch above are from January, one of the Sketchbook Project spread of pages I hadn’t posted yet.  I gathered seeds from this subject then and am happy to report that my plants are now blooming vigorously!  The tiny seeds are designed for dispersal by wind; each seed has a small wisp of silky fluff attached to catch the faintest breeze.  You can see the seeds (barely!) illustrated in my earlier drawing below.   

Mistflower is a perennial that grows up to 2 feet high, with hairy stems, and crinkly, velvety, triangular leaves.  The coarsely toothed leaves are oppositely arranged on the stems in variable sizes.  This pretty wild- and cultivated flower has quite a range in the eastern U.S. – from Florida and up into New Jersey.  It prefers moist soil, which is a bit of a challenge in my yard.  Right now, my plants are growing in a large pot so wetness is easy to control.

An earlier sketch of mistflower.

In my reading about mistflower, I learned that our native Conoclinium coelestinum is often confused with the almost identical non-native Ageratum houstonianum.  If given a choice, I feel that native is the better choice.  The other living things in our area that interact with plants have evolved similarly, and are adapted to native species.  Non-natives often carry the baggage of unintended consequences. 

According to this article I read in on the Mangrove Chapter of the Florida Native Plant Society website, the best way to tell the difference between the two is to look at the roots.  The native version develops and spreads by rhizomes.  I just can’t bring myself to dig these up to check!  Another source describes the non-native plants developing a clumping habit.  Mine are definitely not clumping, but have a somewhat “untamed” tendency, which I actually like.

 

As you can see from my notes on both sketches, mistflower blooms in September and January, as well as May.  Beyond that, I’ve heard that it blooms in fall and winter.  I’ve read that it can be invasive and get a bit weedy-looking.  Right now though, I love the colors, the shapes, and the form of this delightful plant, and am sure it will be sketched a few times to come.

Click on images to view larger.

Media:

The Sketchbook Project sketchbook,

Pitt Artist pen in black, size XS for the sketch, and S for the text

Kimberly watercolor pencils,

Niji Aquabrush, small size.

The 2013 Sketchbook Project is now online, and you can see the little booklet I created here.

For further reading:

Natives for your Neighborhood

Floridata

USDA Plant database (scroll down for range map)

University of South Florida Herbarium specimen, showing root structure of the native mistflower.

Mistflower

Mistflower, originally uploaded by Elizabeth Smith.

Mistflower
Conoclinium coelestinum
Aster family

It seems to me that autumn has a penchant for lavender and purple flowers. These Mistflowers have a peculiar lavender color that sometimes looks pinkish, but other times more blue. These were volunteers in a recent landscaping job, popping up from under the low shrubs lining the sidewalk/bike path. The blooms seem to be ending as most of the flowers have gone to seed; a mere breath of wind sends the fluff-tailed seeds aloft.


Pale violet colors are tricky to paint, so I did some test color charts beforehand to get a feeling for the best combinations. Glad I did! It may be hard to tell on your screen, but the Opera Rose and Manganese Blue yielded clear and bright mixes that were most like the bloom color. I’ll save these for reference later!

Clicking on the top image will allow you to see it larger on my Flickr photostream.

Wikipedia fans can read a bit more by clicking  here.