Go Wild for Wild Bergamot

Image of hummingbird flying toward bee balm
As a replacement for butterfly bush, wild bergamot fits the bill—and the beak.

There isn’t anything shy about wild bergamot. It likes to take up space. It doesn’t just bloom where it’s planted but flourishes wherever it feels like spreading or seeding itself. No matter if you’re a carefully coiffed rosebush or a scruffy patch of coneflowers, Monarda fistulosa is content to plunk down next to you as if it’s known you all its life.

And that’s why the animals and I love this pollinator powerhouse. Though its adaptability has earned it the dubious title of “aggressive” in some circles, I view such labels with suspicion. Appropriate when describing, say, a driver going twice the speed limit, the word is loaded with bias when enlisted simply to denigrate the things we didn’t prescribe: the woman who dares to express an opinion when she wasn’t asked to, the dog who growls to protect his food from a wayward cat, the plant that grows in new directions we couldn’t have foreseen.

DSC_0238
A carpenter bee holds on tightly to his breakfast.

It’s true that many plants are aggressive outside their home ranges; it’s why we now have long lists of invasive species we should never put in our gardens. But plants native to a given area are subject to natural checks and balances, including other jubilant natives competing for space and tiny nibbling creatures.

“Abundant” is how I would prefer to describe my beloved bergamot, also known as bee balm. Originally purchased 14 years ago to satisfy my own taste for wild beauty, one seed pack from Seeds of Change has created a perennial feast for the many animals in our yard. If ever there were an alternative nectar source to the invasive, nonnative, inappropriately named butterfly bush, wild bergamot (Monarda fistulosa) fits the bill—and the beak and the bee tongue.

But don’t just take my word for it. Let the animals in these photos persuade you. And don’t miss the video encore below!

Image of eastern tiger swallowtail on wild bergamot
Eastern tiger swallowtails flock to this plant …
wild bergamot and silver spotted skipper
… as do silver-spotted skippers …
Image of great spangled fritillary on wild bergamot
… and great spangled fritillaries. (Depending on the season, sometimes bergamot in large patches like this gets a little mildew. It always comes back good as new for me the next year, but if recurring mildew bothers you, you can create more air circulation by digging some of the plants up and relocating them.)
Image of butterflies on wild bergamot
It’s a veritable gathering place for butterflies. At first you may think there are only two in this photo. Can you spot the third?
Eastern tiger swallowtails on wild bergamot
It’s the plant that keeps on giving from mid-summer to fall.
Monarch on wild bergamot
When many other plants have passed their peak, some of my wild bergamot are just getting started, providing much-needed food for migrating monarchs.
Image of bee flying toward wild bergamot
There’s a reason the plant is also called bee balm.
Image of sleeping bees on wild bergamot
It even provides a protective umbrella under which bees lay their weary heads each evening—upside down—before waking up to breakfast in bed early the next morning. (Photo by Will Heinz, my fellow bee lover who happily woke up early with the bees to take this beautiful shot! Thank you, Will!)
Goldfinch on wild bergamot
Long after the flowers have died, the plant provides food to goldfinches and sparrows when little else is available to our birds. Its stems are sometimes used by indigo buntings to build their nests.

Can you count the number of butterflies in this video? (Please excuse the human intrusion at the 18-second mark; I decided not to edit the sound out so you could enjoy the magic of long-missed insect and bird song.)

 

9 thoughts on “Go Wild for Wild Bergamot”

  1. I grew a few bergamot plants some years ago, and to my disappointment they did not come back the next year. This makes me want to try again.

    Butterflies are a welcome sight after all the wintry weather we have been having. Thanks for this post!

    1. Chessie, I wonder why they got zapped. I’d love to give you some — there is plenty, and I still have the golden ragwort sitting under my deck for you!

  2. Thanks again Nancy! The pictures and captions are incredible and I greatly appreciate each one of them!

  3. Now that is a wonderful and humane backyard!!! Thanks for the video Nancy! I very much enjoyed watching those awesome and beautiful butterflies! They all seemed so peaceful and happy!

  4. Nice article. Unless I missed it, though, i didn’t see any mention of this species medicinal and comestible properties. I have heard very good things about Monarda fistulosa from tribal herbalists who tout its considerable medicinal values (e.g., for asthma). And I can vouch for the fact that the leaves smell and taste like oregano.

    1. Hi Russ! I replied to your email, not realizing that you had written it as a comment here. Yes, this is an older piece that probably needs updating – thanks for pointing that out. I do mention some of these things in my new book, Wildscape, in a discussion about research on the different chemotypes of monarda. That was very interesting to learn from Linda Black Elk’s presentation that it helps with asthma!

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