MONTAUK DAISY
Nothing says “small world” like a plant that originated in Japan, bears the name of a Native American tribe and flourishes happily in many parts of the United States. The plant in question is the Montauk daisy, sometimes known as the “Nippon daisy.” Back when about a million species were included in the genus Chrysanthemum, the Montauk daisy was known as Chrysanthemum nipponicum–in other words, the flowering plant that came from Japan. Now, taxonomists, who have a fondness for extreme precision, have given the autumn blooming daisy its own genus–Nipponanthemum. People who follow the taxonomists’ lead refer to the plant as Nipponanthemum nipponicum–literally, the Japanese plant that came from Japan. Perhaps this would make more sense if you could hear the taxonomists’ explanation.
Fortunately, most people will not worry about the Latin name. They will, however, continue to plant this big, shrubby, broad-leafed daisy in garden beds and pots. In addition to its impressive, golden-centered blooms, the Montauk daisy features relatively broad, leathery or waxy leaves. The foliage is pleasantly scented–at least to the majority of noses–and the season of bloom is fairly lengthy.
Unlike the ox-eye daisies of spring and the ever-increasing gang of Shasta daisies that bloom in early summer, the Montauk daisy doesn’t even think about opening its petals until fall. This year, the plants are blooming just as the asters are beginning to fade, creating a nice segue into the very end of the growing season when the garden mums produce their flowers. If you don’t have any garden mums to partner with your Montauks, think about investing in some for the spring. They are different from the “hardy” mums sold in every retail outlet, because they come back reliably and increase handily over the years.
Nipponanthemum nipponicum probably arrived in the West in the second half of the nineteenth century. The plants are tough and adaptable and have even naturalized in places like Montauk, on the far eastern end of Long Island. The area–and therefore the flowers–acquired the name from the Montaukett tribe of Native Americans, who lived there before either European settlers or Asian daisies staked their claims. Long after the departure of the Montauketts, the daisies put down roots in the sandy soil and flourished, leading people to think they were native plants. I am sure that like many garden favorites, they were originally propagated by division and passed from gardener to gardener.
Plant breeders, who have created endless new varieties of species like heuchera and echinacea, have not fiddled with the Montauk daisy, so you won’t have to worry about choosing among cultivars that grow large or small or sport blooms in a bewildering array of colors and configurations. There are very few mail order nurseries that ship Montauks, so you have to find them in local garden centers and big-box merchandisers. Fortunately this is not a problem, as they are everywhere in the fall.
In the last few years, I have seen more and more Montauks in containers, displacing the more traditional mums on front porches, decks and terraces. If you do this and also have garden space, you can try planting them in the garden after they have finished blooming. Some experts, including the late Ralph Snodsmith, advise against this, on the grounds that the plants will not have time to settle in before hard frosts. I take a slightly different view, since survival depends entirely on where you live and how quickly winter comes on in any given year. To my way of thinking, there is no harm in trying permanent installation on a plant that would otherwise have gone to the composter or ended up at the curb on trash day. If it lives, you will have a stalwart garden performer. If it dies, you won’t have lost much. Sometimes you just have to throw caution to the winds and expose your Montauk daisies to the elements.
Montauks are undemanding plants, which accounts for their popularity and longevity. They like a sunny site and, like many plants that flourish in coastal areas, they do best in well-drained soil. My Montauk is growing in the strip between the sidewalk and the street. It is quite happy and I attribute that to the fact that the soil has been thoroughly amended with rocks as the result of curb construction, road resurfacing, water line drilling and other utility and infrastructure-related activities. I take out all rocks bigger than my fist, but that still leaves a lot of smaller stones and pebbles to help provide the necessary drainage. My Montauk got through last winter’s hellacious snow barrage, the early summer drought, the late summer monsoon and the hurricane. It is still looking good and I expect great things from it in years to come.
In the current perpetually wilting economy, it is nice to know that Montauk daisies are as close as any gardener can get to a blue chip investment.