For a Few Bags of Gumballs

Into each life, some Sweet Gum balls must fall. AMcC

Spray them gold if you must, but how many can you really use for decorations? Over at Nature in the Ozarks, Marvin has quite a list of nicknames for them, like "monkey ball" and "bommyknocker." Here is suburbia, we often use names that are, well, less polite. I'm talking, of course, about the dreaded, despised, despicable Sweet Gum ball. I spent hours this week scooping up the winter's load of gum balls, filling more than 4 huge paper "yard waste" sacks. After yesterday's high winds, the yard and driveway are just as covered as they ever were. This morning, my poor old long-haired dachshund came in with a half-dozen stuck in her tail. Steve Niks, at About.com, found that Sweet Gum tied with the misnamed Tree of Heaven for "Most Hated Tree in America." So reviled is this barbed ball, that home owners sometimes lay out thousands of dollars to have the tree removed.

That's too bad because Sweet Gum, Liquidamber styraciflua, is really the archetype of trees. It's a big, healthy tree, and if utility company tree-trimmers don't come after it, the Sweet Gum will grow into a perfect pyramid. It doesn't have disease problems like crabapples. It won't split up in a storm, like Bradford pears. It doesn't stain your car, sidewalk, and white siding like mulberry; doesn't stink to high heaven like a Gingko. It's not invasive; in fact, it's native to Missouri and the East all the way south to Central America. What's more, according to USDA Forest Service, it won't produce the dreaded "cukoo bir" till it's 20 years old. So, if you're planning on moving within 19 years, go ahead and plant one! If not, be advised that Trees of Missouri, by Settergren and McDermott, records a tree in Tywappity Bottom (now Scott County in southeast Missouri) that was 140 feet tall and 5 feet wide at the trunk.

Tom Davis managed to capture an image of a winter-plumaged Am. Goldfinch with a Sweet Gum seed in its beak!

The leaves are five-pointed stars, a beautiful deep green in summer. Fall color is red and purple—out of this world! Sweet Gums are excellent shade trees. My neighbor's trees shade my roof, according to the USDA Forest Service, reducing my cooling costs by 30%, and 10-50% reduction in heating, according to the Missouri Dept. of Conservation. 

Saint James is the Sweet Gum Capital of Missouri, although even in that fair city, there seems to be some controversy about the "conkleberry."

Freshly emerged Luna Moth, photo by Sophro

There are creatures that love Sweet Gums: finches, squirrels, luna moths and, reportedly, a few suburban humans. In his book, Caterpillars of Eastern North America, David Wagner lists Sweet Gum as one of the hosts of Luna, Regal (Royal Walnut), and Promethea moths. Worth a few bags of gum balls, don't you think?

Pokey Hat

Pokey hats, early on a snowy Sunday. AMcC

Some years ago I had the opportunity to visit a state park with a friend from Scotland. Montauk State Park is a beautiful spot on the banks of the upper Current River. After a long day of watching people fish for trout, we visited the lodge. My friend stepped up to the snack bar and in a heavy Glaswegian accent ordered a “pokey hat.” It took some effort to discover that she meant an ice cream cone. Hilarious!

Cup Plant hangs on to the snow too,
almost as well as it does rain water. AMcC

Hold on now, Scottish readers! I got my comeuppance when that same friend and I dropped into a Glasgow curry shop and I ordered “nan bread.” In my Saint Louis accent, “naan” rhymes with Anne. The clerk could hardly take my order he was laughing so hard. He called the cooks to come out and begged me say it again!


I saw a pokey hat in my front yard early this morning. The prickly seedhead of Purple coneflower (Echinacea purpurea) is especially good at showing off the beautiful snow. It’s afternoon now and gusts of 40 mile-per-hour winds haven’t yet knocked the hat off.

Male American Robin rides the storm out in the witch hazel tree. AMcC

About 3 months from now, a meteorologist on local TV will proudly display a photo documenting the arrival of the first robin of the year. Actually, American Robins are present in our area all year long, but they aren’t quite as conspicuous to non-birders as they are in spring.

Am. Goldfinches hard at work on
the seeds of Prairie Dock. AMcC

In spite of a temperature of 19° F (wind chill of 2°), Slate-colored Junco, Carolina Chickadee, Downy Woodpecker, and White-throated Sparrow are busy in the back yard. In the front, American Goldfinches tease the last seeds out of Prairie Dock seedheads (Silphium terebinthinaceum). 

All this activity is missing from gardens where the owner tidies up in fall. That’s one less chore for those who garden with binoculars.

Reincarnated Cowboys

Photo by Richard Skoonberg

If binoculars are basic equipment in your garden, you’ve gotta have purple coneflowers! Being native to this area (Midwestern USA), they don’t demand much—just sunlight and an occasional rain. No need for fertilizer or insecticides. Echinacea purpurea is native to Missouri, but so are pale purple coneflower (E. pallida), whose petals droop even more than the “regular” purple, and yellow coneflower (E. paradoxa).

Hybridized garden varieties are shorter than the species—that is, less than 4 feet tall. Nurseries have developed purple coneflowers that are orange, red, or deep purple. If you like to play with scale, try ‘Little Annie,’ a new variety. It’s miniaturized—less than 10 inches, with many small flowers. I have one in a container one the front porch. Modern garden varieties hold their petals closer to horizontal, but I prefer the charming droop of the unimproved native plant.

Of course the main reason to have loads of purple coneflowers is goldfinches. Cornell doesn’t mention it in their fantastic bird website, but rodeo-riders—and perhaps the clowns too—are reincarnated as goldfinches. When the blooms are finished and most gardeners would get out the shears, that’s the time little yellow birds hop onto that bloomed-out conehead and ride, Sally, ride! My Flickr friend Richard Skoonberg captured this photo as a male goldfinch tweezes the seeds out, then flies off to feed his nestlings. American Goldfinches are one of the few species of birds that feed seeds to their young, not insects. In the process, they drop a few seeds in new areas, allowing the plant to spread. Purple coneflowers are indispensable in a wildlife garden!