Kiss the Earth

I had to laugh this morning at the site of zillions of little cleome seedlings covering the ground in the middle of my garden. Cleome hasslerana is also known as spider flower or grandfather's whiskers for its long wavy stamen. They're officially an annual, but as anyone who's grown them or had them mysteriously pop up in their garden knows, they self-sow and come back in droves.

They're pretty indestructible, too. No need to stake. If something were to happen to a few, chances are you have plenty more.

I planted some three springs ago and they were terrific. Tall, interesting, colorful, in the height - and heat - of summer, just when the garden needed all those things. The next year, only a few came back. Only after I'd pulled out all the "weeds" in the middle, where the cleome had been, did I realize I'd actually removed the little cleome seedlings.

So this year, I let them go, and I have to say, they're running wild. The seedlings are a carpet in the middle of my garden. Good Lord, what have I created? Seedlings have also appeared in the far corner, in the vegetables, everywhere seeds can be blown, dropped or spit out.

Just for the heck of it, and I may regret this later, I'm letting most of them grow. I've already given away a fair number and am happy to continue to do this because my gardening pals seem to love these plants.

They like sun but seem to grow almost anywhere. They look great behind shorter things, in the middle as a focal point and mixed in and about in whatever way you like.

They're tall and spidery, in pink, white and lavender. They're fun when they blow in the wind and they look really great with almost anything else. And I rarely water mine, so they're fine in dry spells.

The only thing they aren't good for is cutting. First of all, they're sticky and prickly. Second of all, they have a disgusting smell. Supposedly if you soak them in warm water, they do better in a vase. I'd like to try this, because I think they'd be incredible on the dining room table in an antique vase I have. And, needless to say, I'm going to be awash in cleomes this summer.

Not that you need to be reminded, but just in case, here: Don't get too friendly. Up close, they really are just like you remember your grandfather's whiskers.