Coming Across Heron's Bill, by Luck
If you are a member of a garden club, spring means plant swaps. Gardeners share their favorite specimens with fellow club members. Fun, fruitful… the swaps are something special.
In my experience, when swap tables get set up, gardeners are magnetized to plump iris rhizomes with healthy fans and stems that look as though they may guarantee at least one flower, even in the year they are transplanted. They go for tall sedum which, in spring, has foliage that emerges as tiny artichoke-shaped nubs. And ferns are popular, with fronds that unfurl early in the season.
Each of these plants garners interest. But one lucky day that felt not-so-lucky, I was left with much smaller plants to choose from. There was nothing with a large bud or “big” foliage. That is when I was introduced to what has become one of my all-time favorites—Erodium, or Heron’s Bill.
Erodium is cousin to the hardy geraniums called cranesbills. In my region (Zone 6b), Erodium’s foliage dies back over winter. So at swap-time, the Heron’s Bill did not look like much. But this small division of a plant quickly transformed itself into a mound of absolute beauty.
Erodium, or Heron’s Bill, fluffs out in spring, adding finely cut greenery in mounded form to a landscape. A tiny division can set root just about anywhere, as long as there is good drainage. However, given a choice of soils, Heron’s Bill prefers alkalinity. Still, even under a tree and in tightly packed soil, Erodium somehow thrives.
By mid-summer, my Erodium from the swap had pink flowers that stood atop the mound on spindly stems. Each flower started out as a balloon-shaped bud that tapered into what could be compared to a Heron’s Bill on a thin avian neck. The mound of lacy greenery, balloon buds, and dainty flowers caused me to know I had found a gem, by nothing more than luck.
Erodium is perfect for the rock garden, tight spaces lacking rich soil, or the border of a planting bed. Heron’s Bill can withstand minor foot traffic, so even near a pathway, this plant will do well.
Gardeners are typically generous types, so back at the time of that plant swap, I wondered why my acquisition had been divided into a such tiny form. It was basically just a bare taproot and a slice of the crown which held a few filigree-type leaves. But a small division is all that is needed to take hold, green up into a plump mound, and flower with simple yet attractive blooms. What is best, all of this typically happens in the same year Erodium is transplanted.
The beauty of Erodium lies in the way its flowers dance atop the mound of foliage. Wind will catch them, and if planted under tree branches or other larger plants, craning stems will bend toward the sun. I have Erodium plants near a driveway where their stems crane to see visitors. Visitors are charmed by these pretty greeters that crave light and appreciate admiration.
With a lacy and delicate look to hide its inherent toughness, Erodium adds a different look to the garden. Place a Heron’s Bill or three near broad-leafed plants, such as certain hostas which can handle more sun than others, and you will get a nice contrast between filigree and solid foliage, both in mounded form.
I now know that plant swaps need not make me pull out my running shoes. I do not have to be first to the table to return home with something magnificent. A tiny taproot got me acquainted with a perennial I would now never want to be without. Erodium… Heron’s Bill. I clean up spent blooms and trim stems mid-season to encourage new flowers. I am careful not to disturb the crown and newly formed leaves as I do my spring cleanup, unless I want to slice out a division. I ensure good moisture, drainage, and sun. Then all that is left to do is enjoy this gem of a plant.
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