The butterfly weed, or Asclepias tuberose, in my garden is obviously the result of wish fulfillment, because I never planted it. For years I thought about it, but was always distracted by the horticultural equivalent of brighter, shinier objects. My plant dollars went for all kinds of specimens, but never for butterfly weed.
Still, as articulated by the Rolling Stones, “You can’t always get what you want…But if you try sometime you’ll find you get what you need.” Clearly I needed butterfly weed.
The plants are now growing in three places in the garden—two different spots in the upper back garden and one in the narrow bed along the driveway. The driveway plant—which has now multiplied into several plants—was first on the scene, arriving a few years ago. I noticed its orange flowerheads one day when I was pulling out the poison ivy that was insinuating itself into the privet hedge that borders my property. The stems that supported those eye-catching flowers were leaning precipitously into the driveway. Once I finished with the poison ivy, I tied them to a sturdy privet trunk, pulling the plant into an upright position. Butterfly weed is sometimes rather lax in its habits.
Pollinator-friendly plants and native species are all the rage right now, which means that butterfly weed and all its milkweed relations are having a moment. I love common milkweed or Asclepias syriacus, with its giant globular flowerheads that smell like honey. Likewise with swamp milkweed, or Asclepias incarnata, which features pinkish flowerheads. All the common milkweeds have clusters, umbels or balls of small, tubular flowers that give way to fat green seedpods. When those seedpods dry and split, they emit scads of silky-tailed seeds that are borne aloft on the breezes to settle wherever they land. I am quite sure that this is how I acquired my butterfly weed.
Everyone loves monarch butterflies, and monarch butterflies love milkweed. It is a host plant for their caterpillars, and the adults are drawn to the ample nectar supplies. Other butterflies and skippers like the flowers as well. Humans are attracted to the cheerful orange flowerheads of butterfly weed and appreciate the fact that the plants largely take care of themselves. The Perennial Plant Association took note of this in 2017, when they named Asclepias tuberosa the Perennial Plant of the Year.
Most milkweed stems contain a milky sap that may irritate human skin. Butterfly weed is unique among its close relatives because it does not contain the sap, making it easier to work with and better for cut arrangements.
Lovely as my butterfly weed plants are, I don’t cut the flowers for indoor display. The butterflies need the plants outside more than I need them inside, so I leave them alone.
Butterfly weed has traditionally been a cottage garden or informal landscape plant, but these days even formal parterres often have “informal” components like ornamental grasses and traditional “wildflowers.” Butterfly weed fits right into that ethos.
Like butterflies, Asclepias tuberosa craves the sunshine. It is unfussy about soil, and, because the plants have long taproots, they can tolerate drought once they are established. Usually butterfly weed tops out at about 18 inches tall, so in most situations that means the middle of beds and borders. If you are installing it yourself, rather than leaving that chore to breeze-borne seeds, position the plants carefully. The same long taproots that guarantee survival in droughty weather dislike being uprooted and moved.
Native to North American, butterfly weed was quick to grab the attention of early settlers. Peter Brown, a late eighteenth century English botanical artist painted it, probably for one of his aristocratic patrons, like the Prince of Wales or the Duchess of Manchester. The internet has made the fetching illustration available for non-aristocrats around the world.
If butterfly weed is lurking somewhere in your neighborhood, you will probably find some on your property sooner or later. If you can’t wait for serendipitous seeding, you can buy traditional orange-flowered Asclepias tuberosa, or its yellow-flowered sibling, ‘Hello Yellow,’ from Bluestone Perennials, 7211 Middle Ridge Rd., Madison, OH 44057; (800-852-5243); www.bluestoneperennials.com. Print catalog available.