Buddleia Redux

BUDDLEIA REDUX
Four butterfly bushes grow on my property. I bought three of them; the fourth was a gift from a friend who has since moved away. The gift shrub is a rampant self-seeder, which is probably why its original owner was so anxious to get rid of it. I share that joy by giving away its offspring to selected gardening friends. Some of them even thank me later.
Common butterfly bushes or Buddleia davidii, are sometimes known as “summer lilac.” Lilacs and buddleia are not related, but both sport fragrant white, cream, yellow, blue-purple or purple flowers clustered into densely packed spikes. Lilac blooms in spring, while buddleia waits until summer, thereby attracting more butterflies.
At the moment, my four butterfly bushes are a perfect example of the randomness of plant care at my establishment. One was properly cut back last fall and waits in the wings for its moment of glory in a month or so. Two were pruned in early spring and are sprouting new growth with vigor. One is leggy and unattractive because it still needs its fall pruning. If I don’t do something soon–other than write “prune butterfly bush now!!!!”–on my daily “to do” list, it will punish me with sparse flower production and a gangly appearance.
I have learned a lot about buddleia care and culture since acquiring my first butterfly bush ten years ago. That first one, with darkest purple blooms, was ordered after I was seduced by catalog copy that promised swarms of butterflies from June through frost. This being real life, not catalog life, the butterflies have generally arrived in duos or trios rather than the promised swarms. The best butterfly turnout happened early in the morning on 9/11, when I saw twelve monarchs on the one in my backyard.
Butterfly bushes are native to western China and are fond of sunny spaces and good drainage. My clay soil is not particularly conducive to good drainage, but I have amended it as much as possible. It is no surprise that the most successful of my buddleia is the one that grows in a raised bed. Pruning is also indispensible for maximum flower production. Like lilacs, unpruned buddleia tend to get very “leggy”, with long branches straining towards the sun and flower clusters appearing only at the ends of those branches. Pruning the plants back to about 18 inches tall in late fall is a good strategy that gives them a head start on the next growing season. When I am being diligent, I also prune mine back by one third at the end of each flush of bloom. The plants stay more compact and floriferous that way. If you are like me and tend to put off necessary pruning, just remember that more pruning equals more butterflies. That should be enough to make sharpening your loppers and lopping your branches more appealing.
My two oldest bushes have names that have long since been lost, but one is darkest purple and the other, a lighter shade. I love all things yellow, so it is no surprise that I fell for a hybrid variety, Buddleia x weyeriana ”Sungold’. The plant sits in a corner of my front garden and the golden yellow flowers shine in the late summer. Yellow figures in the make-up of my newest buddleia, another hybrid variety that combines two colors in each flowerhead and goes by the eponymous name, ‘Bicolor’. The buds and young flowers are pinkish-lavender, aging to gold. This bi-color variety was a seedling of the aforementioned ‘Honeycomb’, discovered by woody plant guru, Dr. Michael Dirr, of the University of Georgia. Unlike many bi-colored plants, it is as strong, or stronger, than its parent. Right now my biggest problem with ‘Bicolor’ is that it threatens to engulf the rosebush that I thought I had planted at a safe distance from it.
I have learned from experience that some buddleia are a little too prolific for garden situations. Roger Phillips and Martyn Rix, writing in their wonderful book, The Botanical Garden, note that this tendency to extreme hardiness and adaptability made Buddleia davidii among the first plants to colonize bombed-out areas after World War II. On this side of the Atlantic, they are classified as “invasive” in some states. Many of the newer hybrids and varieties are less troublesome. ‘Honeycomb’, for example, produces relatively few seedlings.
If you have a rampant self-seeder, keep the ground around it mowed or mulched to nip such tendencies in the bud. Be on the alert for seedlings elsewhere and pull them out promptly. In my own garden, I find that while my gift shrub has profligate tendencies, the roses of Sharon are much, much worse. Since both species produce singular flowers that elicit many compliments from visitors, I grub out the unwanted offspring with relatively little resentment.
Many nurseries and garden centers carry Buddleia davidii and some of the hybrids like ‘Sungold’. For a wider selection, try Forestfarm, 990 Tetherow Road, Williams, OR 97544; (541) 846-7269; www.forestfarm.com. Catalog $5.00.