From “Asters: The Stars of Autumn” in The Secrets of Wildflowers: A Delightful Feast of Little-Known Facts, Folklore, and History by Jack Sanders:
“Asters, someone once said, ‘are stars fetched from the night skies and planted on the fields of day.’ Indeed, it often seems as if there are as many asters as stars when September and October roll around. And to those who have studied the subject a little, it seems almost as if there are as many aster species — and, lately, aster genera — as there are asters…. Aster, of course, means ‘star,’ as in astronomy and astronaut, descriptive of the star-like form of the flowers….
“Until the 1990s, more than 150 North American plants were included under the genus Aster. However, close study, using DNA testing and other techniques, has determined that our ‘asters’ are not quite the same as Old World asters. Almost all North American plants once classified under the genus Aster now bear such tongue-twisting generic names as Symphyotrichum, Oclemena, Chlorolepis, Eurybia, and Doellingeria….
“Since there are so many species, aster spotting is almost an autumnal sub-hobby of wildflower hunting. With so many varieties-some exceedingly rare-amateur flower sleuths could spend many hours not only in finding but then in identifying asters.
“This is sometimes no simple task, for most wildflower guides do not pretend to list every species you might come across. Even armed with an extensive catalogue, identification can be tedious and technical, requiring close inspection of the leaves, seeds, or other parts. In addition, asters in the wild tend to form hybrids and to create tiny races that sometimes become distinct enough to be classified by some botanists as species….
“You don’t need a botany degree, though, to identify most of the common asters. Actually, it’s fun and challenging and, in the process of trying to separate similar species, you can learn a good deal about plant identification and structure.
“The season for aster hunting starts in August when the white wood asters (Eurybia divaricata) and other early species appear. September is the best time, since virtually every variety is in bloom sometime during the month. The flowers are a prelude to autumn’s bright colors…. Blues, purples, and variations thereof are common colors among asters. Many white varieties are also common, though often the white species will produce blossoms with subtle pastel tints of violet, pink, or blue. In many species the center disks start out yellow but turn to purple or brown later on.”
From “Asters and Golden Rod” by Helen Hunt Jackson in The Romantic Tradition in American Literature: Poems by Helen Jackson, series edited by Harold Bloom:
I know the lands are lit
With all the autumn blaze of Golden Rod;
And everywhere the Purple Asters nod
And bend and wave and flit.
But when the names I hear,
I never picture how their pageant lies
Spread out in tender stateliness of guise,
The fairest of the year.
I only see one nook,
A wooded nook — half sun, half shade —
Where one I love his footsteps sudden stayed,
And whispered, “Darling, look!”
Two oak leaves, vivid green,
Hung low among the ferns, and parted wide;
While purple Aster Stars, close side by side,
Like faces peered between.
Like maiden faces set
In vine-wreathed window, waiting shy and glad
For joys whose dim, mysterious promise had
But promise been, as yet.
And, like proud lovers bent,
In regal courtesy, as kings might woo,
Tall Golden Rods, bareheaded in the dew,
Above the Asters leant.
Ah, me! Lands will be lit
With every autumn’s blaze of Golden Rod,
And purple Asters everywhere will nod
And bend and wave and flit;
Until, like ripened seed,
This little earth itself, some noon, shall float
Off into space, a tiny shining mote,
Which none but God will heed….
Hello!
This is the first of two posts with photographs of pink Painted Daisies (Tanacetum coccineum) and purple Aromatic Asters (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium) from Oakland Cemetery that I took in October.
Referring to some asters as daisies is pretty common, as many asters look a lot like the daisies we accurately call daisies; and the family name — Asteraceae — is itself often called the Daisy family. But the historical nomenclature can be even more confusing than that, as the family was once called Compositae or the Composite family, because most of its extended family’s flowers are composite flowers. The quotation at the top of this post elaborates on that even further, explaining how some of the Aster family members were moved into their own genera — Symphyotrichum, Oclemena, Chlorolepis, Eurybia, and Doellingeria, and how that was a fairly recent development arising from genetic testing that occurred as recently as the 1990s. It is perhaps (or perhaps not!) interesting how these complex names of plants get modified in conjunction with scientific advances, but the common names — often derived from cultural associations, observed growth patterns, or their appearances — have a sticktoitiveness that their official names do not.
Composite flowers, as we have learned, can simply be thought of as flowers growing out of flowers — sometimes on top of and other times surrounding each other — such as the yellow and orange toppers we saw on the Zinnias I posted previously. Zinnias show off one of the most obvious visual occurrences of the composite flower feature, whereas these Painted Daisies and Aromatic Asters are a little more subtle about it. I was very pleased, however, to discover the early nineteenth-century poem “Asters and Golden Rod” by Helen Hunt Jackson, which describes a regal display of goldenrod standing guard over a patch of purple asters and takes note of their disk florets. The poem also reflects how the striking autumn color contrast between goldenrod and asters can be found in purple asters themselves…
… and evocatively describes an often overlooked variation in the appearance of asters that becomes apparent when we photograph them close up. At any given moment of image capture, the “little earths” of some disk florets have dispersed their seeds into the wind (turning the floret brown), while others haven’t gotten around to it yet, so those disks are still bright yellow and orange:
With every autumn’s blaze of Golden Rod,
And purple Asters everywhere will nod
And bend and wave and flit;
Until, like ripened seed,
This little earth itself, some noon, shall float
Off into space, a tiny shining mote,
Which none but God will heed….
Thanks for reading and taking a look!
