Tut, Tut: The Secrets of Papyrus

In recent years, ornamental grasses have become de rigueur for most modern garden designs. They are graceful, tall, and elegant – rather much the Audrey Hepburn of horticulture. But how can we translate this vertical effect to our indoor gardening environment? The solution comes replete with a rich and stunning history dating back to the ancient Nile, Pharaohs, Egyptian gods, and Moses in the bulrushes. Welcome to papyrus, one of the most important plants in early human civilization.

Papyrus (Cyperus papyrus), is undoubtedly the most famous member of the genus Cyperus (kupeiros is Greek for sedge), which is comprised of some 4,000 to 5,000 species, several of which are well-suited for indoor and outdoor pond gardens. The species name papyrus derives from the Egyptian word meaning “that which belongs to the house,” where house alludes to the ancient ruling body or bureaucracy.

Papyrus is, of course, the source for our word paper, and was also the plant used to produce sheets of paper for thousands of years, beginning as early as 4,000 BC. In fact, a thriving and vital trade existed for this writing material until about the third century AD, when it was found easier to produce paper from plant pulp, in a process introduced into the Middle East from China via Arab traders. Papyrus-paper also faced competition from Europe and the Near East in the form of parchment or vellum, which was made from animal skins, such as calf or sheep (hence getting your diploma or “sheepskin”). Papyrus continued to be manufactured and used in ever-decreasing amounts until the 11th century.

Interestingly, the plant itself all but disappeared from Egypt during the 20th century, due to dams on the Nile and other unsustainable practices. The plants were reintroduced into the area around Cairo from thriving native plant stock in Ethiopia and the Sudan in the late 1960s by Dr. Hassan Ragab, an Egyptian inventor and scientist, who also rediscovered a method for creating papyrus, which has now reemerged as a high-end novelty product and specialty paper.

Papyrus was, however, much more than an everyday paper product. Ancient Egyptians would also use the soft pith of the stem as a foodstuff, cooked and processed like sugar cane, or eaten raw. Ancient pharmacologists, like Galen and Dioscorides, cataloged a wide variety of medicinal uses for infusions made from the plant. Egyptians also harvested and dried the woody rhizomes and culms to use as a fuel – whose ashes were also medicinal! Garlands were woven from the graceful flower heads to adorn the shrines of the gods, and for funeral observances. The stylized representation of the papyrus inflorescence, or umbel, is a central motif in the art of the period, akin to the lotus motif in Eastern art. Fibrous strands taken from the stem of the plant were used to weave sandals, ropes, plaited fans, mats, wrapping materials, and to produce, oh yes, baskets.

Lest we forget, the basket into which Mariam and Jochebed placed the infant Moses to escape the infanticide decree of Pharaoh was woven from papyrus stems. And, as you think of sister Mariam watching the basket float along the Nile and nestle into the bulrushes, keep in mind that bulrush is but another common name for papyrus. Holy Moses!

Today, papyrus can find a ready welcome far from the subtropical banks of the Nile, especially as there are closely related species of sedge which can readily fit into a water garden, pond, or even into an attractive indoor container. Actually, the true papyrus species is overwhelming, and might be more bulrush than you can handle. Under ideal conditions, Cyperus papyrus can grow between 12 and 15 feet tall, with stems approaching six inches in diameter, although most gardeners report that indoors the plant only reaches eight feet. Still, that might be a bit much for the average family room. And don’t forget that all of the papyrus-like species originated in tropical and subtropical climes, and will need to be relocated indoors before the first frost.

A species suitable for the average backyard water feature is dwarf papyrus or miniature cyperus (Cyperus prolifer), which will stay upright and well-ordered at no more than 12 to 36 inches. Like most Cyperus, the plant thrives in full sun and likes to sit in water. Pretty ideal, having a plant that cannot be overwatered! This species can also take light to partial shade in the yard, or will purr happily in a sunny indoor window.

Pygmy Egyptian papyrus (C. haspan) has a sparkling appearance much like a bright green feather duster. It will top out at about 18 inches, and feels at home in a pot filled with a rich, loose soil mix, which is then placed in a second larger container filled with water – or set into an outdoor pond.

My personal favorite Cyperus species actually hails from Madagascar, and while it bears some overall resemblance to papyrus, its leaves are thicker and lie in a flat plane, which easily led to its common name, umbrella plant (C. alternifolius).

Umbrella plant can grow to five feet or more indoors, and slightly larger outdoors, although three to five feet is more common. Another sedge, it has a triangular stem, whose shape lends structure support to keep the stem upright in strong winds, perhaps faring better than the average umbrella. It also loves to sit in water day after day.

In fact, many of us who fancy the plant actually grow it in nothing more than a cachepot or sealed container filled with water, and lined with rocks on the bottom to help stabilize plant roots. In this hydroponic setting, it’s important to fertilize somewhat regularly, especially during active growing and flowering periods. But don’t mind the flowers: nothing much exciting there, mostly a bland, tan, oat-shaped affair.

Like most sedges, umbrella plants can be propagated by dividing the substantial root masses or clumps of rhizomes, keeping the outer, younger sections for replanting, and composting the older core. Although a much more entertaining method, of which I have not tired in more than 20 years, calls for cutting off the top six inches of a stem of the plant, leaves and all, and inverting the whole into a glass or vase of water. After a few weeks, roots will form around the junction of leaves and stem, and new shoots will emerge growing up, out of the water. When well-established, carefully plant the rooted cutting into a loose soil mix and keep well watered – or immersed. You can also continue to let the plant grow in water alone.

For the record, several plants gracing the bookcases in my office are descendants from several cuttings given to me in 1979. They have, over the years, produced huge clumps of plants for my rooftop garden, and smaller, discrete potted specimens for windowsills. Scores have been propagated and given to friends and curious visitors. And the tradition lives on.

Like the Egyptian papyrus alternatives, umbrella plants are available in compact and dwarf varieties, such as sparkler grass (C. alternifolius gracilis) under 18 inches with delicate, narrow leaves, as well as in a related variegated form (C. diffusus variegatus), where both leaves and stems are striped with a touch of creamy white against a wide, light green leaf.

Whether you’re striking out to honor Osiris, or print your own Book of the Dead on homemade papyrus, or maybe just add a little excitement to your parlor window with a dwarf ‘Nana’ umbrella plant, you can find just the right plant through online sources year-round, while many fine garden centers sell potted specimens in their water garden section.

Copyright 2014, Joseph M. Keyser

Going Native With Native Grasses

The introduction of ornamental grasses to the American landscape is one of the defining moments in modern garden design. These grasses, planted in clumps or large masses, recall elements of the nation's vanishing prairie, while adding sophistication and panache to even the most groomed garden.

Regrettably, many of the grasses frequently used, especially those with ostrich feather-like plumes or stylish zebra-stripes, are both exotic and invasive, especially when planted near open fields, and can pose serious problems for our local ecosystem. For a more habitat-friendly approach, gardeners can and should turn to the abundant inventory of native grasses which will provide the same elements of year-round color, texture, and graceful, swaying motion.

One of the most widely available and popularly used native grasses is big bluestem (Andropogon gerardi), or "turkey foot," affectionately dubbed "monarch of the prairie" by some horticultural boosters. Big bluestem was the dominant species of grass which formed our fabled tall grass prairies, as well as the sod used by homesteaders (sodbusters) and pioneers to build sod huts.

Sod dwellings don't show up very much in most parts of the country, but big bluestem does, both in habitat restoration plantings and in backyards, where they are frequently clumped in mulched planting beds or "grass islands" which decoratively float atop a trimmed lawn. Formal plantings also use these seemingly untamed specimens to dramatically frame a front entrance or serve as sentinels at the end of a driveway.

Big bluestem can reach up to ten feet in height and prefers full sun, although it is tolerant of partial shade and either moist heavy, or sandy, drier soils. Like most native grasses, it prefers being left alone, and fertilizing or unnecessary watering will simply lead to floppy growth. This is a tough plant, let it prove itself! The plant's common name comes honestly from its vertical height and the subtle blue tint of the stem. And while the leaves remain bluish-green during much of the year, autumn frosts help transform that foliage to a mellow bronze or copper shade which will last throughout the winter.

The plant's less common name originates with the three-fingered prongs or "rames" of the purplish-blue seed head, which resembles a turkey's foot, and which begin forming in late summer, and provide seed to a host of migratory and native songbirds through early winter.

A close cousin to big bluestem is little bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium), which shares many of its relation's best characteristics, although it is best planted in masses for best effect, especially considering the beauty of watching a whole miniature sea of grass swaying their silver seed heads in the breeze.

Also a sun lover, the fluffy, tufts of this species mature on a clump-forming plant destined to stay between two and three feet in height. Like most sod-forming grasses, little bluestem does most of its growing underground, sending roots eight feet deep, which makes it equally adaptable to periods of drought or flooding. These qualities make it ideal for erosion control and mower-free hillside stabilization. It is also salt-tolerant, which nominates it for use as en edging plant along sidewalks and curbs.

For gardeners looking for a mid-size grass, there are few more noteworthy than switchgrass (Panicum virgatum), a full sun plant that can adapt to partial shade and either moist or dry conditions. It is wonderfully useful as either a specimen plant, or in small, bush-like clusters, or even planted en masse. Maryland-based garden writer Carole Ottesen favorably compares these massed plantings to a field of wheat. Staying somewhat between three and eight feet tall, depending on soil conditions, the rich green foliage slowly takes on a buttery-cream complexion in fall.

Another attractive and adaptable option for yards with light to moderate shade is bottlebrush grass (Hystrix patula). This species is modest in most respects, averaging only two to five feet in height, and producing only moderately attractive, medium-green foliage, turning straw-colored in autumn. However, the bristly seed heads are quite remarkable, resembling by turns an actual bottlebrush or the long quills of a hedgehog, from which the genus name Hystrix (porcupine) is taken.

And while almost all grass seed heads make for wonderful dried or cut flower arrangements, bottlebrush flowers are incomparable when placed in a window for a striking bit of backlighting.

A close rival for flower arranging - and garden use - is northern sea oats, or river oats (Uniola latifolia), a low-growing, shade-tolerant species whose 30 inch height makes for an excellent ground cover or placed along a perennial boarder, where visitors can fully appreciate its drooping clusters of oat-shaped seeds and rusty-orange fall foliage.

In the same vein, broom sedge (Andropogon virginicus), another cousin of the bluestems, works well as a ground cover or for erosion control, with bluish-green clumps keeping to about 20 to 30 inches in height, with another foot or two more for its inflorescence. Like many of our favorite native grasses, autumn brings on a rich orange color, with seeds for meadow birds and the occasional migrant.

Clearly, the range and application of native grasses is limited only by the size of the garden bed or landscape, and its desired use. Taller and medium sized grasses can serve as hedges or screens, to hide unattractive fences or foundations, or more properly as a backdrop for other garden plantings. Typically, these individuals are best spaced two to three feet apart.

Medium to low-growing specimens often work best in larger groupings, planted one to two feet apart, and are used successfully as ground covers, especially those shade-loving or shade-tolerant grasses which can fill in nicely under mature trees with open scaffolding or along the edge of a wooded area.

A key to making the most of native ornamental grasses is combining them with other flowering natives, or non-invasive annuals and perennials, which will compliment the structure and form of the grasses, while providing color during the spring and summer, as well as a low-flowing, spreading appearance.

Lastly, to truly transform your grass islands or prairie shrubbery into an outdoor bouquet, try to marry the bronze, orange, and copper hues of fall foliage, to say nothing of their crimson-purple flowers and rusty-brown seed heads, with the floral display of late-summer and autumn show-offs like joe-pye weed, sunflowers, asters, ironweed, and goldenrods.

With any luck, the memory of your grassy garden, along with vases filled with bold sprays of seed heads, will keep you smiling all winter long.

Copyright 2014, Joseph M. Keyser

Native Grasses & Natural Landscapes

The introduction of ornamental grasses to the American landscape is one of the defining moments in modern garden design. These grasses, planted in clumps or large masses, recall elements of the nation's vanishing prairie, while adding sophistication and panache to even the most groomed garden.

Regrettably, many of the grasses frequently used, especially those with ostrich feather-like plumes or stylish zebra-stripes, are both exotic and invasive, especially when planted near open fields, and can pose serious problems for our local ecosystem. For a more habitat-friendly approach, gardeners can and should turn to the abundant inventory of native grasses which will provide the same elements of year-round color, texture, and graceful, swaying motion.

One of the most widely available and popularly used native grasses is big bluestem (Andropogon gerardi), or "turkey foot," affectionately dubbed "monarch of the prairie" by some horticultural boosters. Big bluestem was the dominant species of grass which formed our fabled tall grass prairies, as well as the sod used by homesteaders (sodbusters) and pioneers to build sod huts.

Sod dwellings don't show up very much in most parts of the country, but big bluestem does, both in habitat restoration plantings and in backyards, where they are frequently clumped in mulched planting beds or "grass islands" which decoratively float atop a trimmed lawn. Formal plantings also use these seemingly untamed specimens to dramatically frame a front entrance or serve as sentinels at the end of a driveway.

Big bluestem can reach up to ten feet in height and prefers full sun, although it is tolerant of partial shade and either moist heavy, or sandy, drier soils. Like most native grasses, it prefers being left alone, and fertilizing or unnecessary watering will simply lead to floppy growth. This is a tough plant, let it prove itself! The plant's common name comes honestly from its vertical height and the subtle blue tint of the stem. And while the leaves remain bluish-green during much of the year, autumn frosts help transform that foliage to a mellow bronze or copper shade which will last throughout the winter.

The plant's less common name originates with the three-fingered prongs or "rames" of the purplish-blue seed head, which resembles a turkey's foot, and which begin forming in late summer, and provide seed to a host of migratory and native songbirds through early winter.

A close cousin to big bluestem is little bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium), which shares many of its relation's best characteristics, although it is best planted in masses for best effect, especially considering the beauty of watching a whole miniature sea of grass swaying their silver seed heads in the breeze.

Also a sun lover, the fluffy, tufts of this species mature on a clump-forming plant destined to stay between two and three feet in height. Like most sod-forming grasses, little bluestem does most of its growing underground, sending roots eight feet deep, which makes it equally adaptable to periods of drought or flooding. These qualities make it ideal for erosion control and mower-free hillside stabilization. It is also salt-tolerant, which nominates it for use as en edging plant along sidewalks and curbs.

For gardeners looking for a mid-size grass, there are few more noteworthy than switchgrass (Panicum virgatum), a full sun plant that can adapt to partial shade and either moist or dry conditions. It is wonderfully useful as either a specimen plant, or in small, bush-like clusters, or even planted en masse. Maryland-based garden writer Carole Ottesen favorably compares these massed plantings to a field of wheat. Staying somewhat between three and eight feet tall, depending on soil conditions, the rich green foliage slowly takes on a buttery-cream complexion in fall.

Another attractive and adaptable option for yards with light to moderate shade is bottlebrush grass (Hystrix patula). This species is modest in most respects, averaging only two to five feet in height, and producing only moderately attractive, medium-green foliage, turning straw-colored in autumn. However, the bristly seed heads are quite remarkable, resembling by turns an actual bottlebrush or the long quills of a hedgehog, from which the genus name Hystrix (porcupine) is taken.

And while almost all grass seed heads make for wonderful dried or cut flower arrangements, bottlebrush flowers are incomparable when placed in a window for a striking bit of backlighting.

A close rival for flower arranging - and garden use - is northern sea oats, or river oats (Uniola latifolia), a low-growing, shade-tolerant species whose 30 inch height makes for an excellent ground cover or placed along a perennial boarder, where visitors can fully appreciate its drooping clusters of oat-shaped seeds and rusty-orange fall foliage.

In the same vein, broom sedge (Andropogon virginicus), another cousin of the bluestems, works well as a ground cover or for erosion control, with bluish-green clumps keeping to about 20 to 30 inches in height, with another foot or two more for its inflorescence. Like many of our favorite native grasses, autumn brings on a rich orange color, with seeds for meadow birds and the occasional migrant.

Clearly, the range and application of native grasses is limited only by the size of the garden bed or landscape, and its desired use. Taller and medium sized grasses can serve as hedges or screens, to hide unattractive fences or foundations, or more properly as a backdrop for other garden plantings. Typically, these individuals are best spaced two to three feet apart.

Medium to low-growing specimens often work best in larger groupings, planted one to two feet apart, and are used successfully as ground covers, especially those shade-loving or shade-tolerant grasses which can fill in nicely under mature trees with open scaffolding or along the edge of a wooded area.

A key to making the most of native ornamental grasses is combining them with other flowering natives, or non-invasive annuals and perennials, which will compliment the structure and form of the grasses, while providing color during the spring and summer, as well as a low-flowing, spreading appearance.

Lastly, to truly transform your grass islands or prairie shrubbery into an outdoor bouquet, try to marry the bronze, orange, and copper hues of fall foliage, to say nothing of their crimson-purple flowers and rusty-brown seed heads, with the floral display of late-summer and autumn show-offs like joe-pye weed, sunflowers, asters, ironweed, and goldenrods.

With any luck, the memory of your grassy garden, along with vases filled with bold sprays of seed heads, will keep you smiling all winter long.

Copyright 2011, Joseph M. Keyser

Discovering the Secrets of Papyrus

In recent years, ornamental grasses have become de rigueur for most modern garden designs. They are graceful, tall, and elegant – rather much the Audrey Hepburn of horticulture. But how can we translate this vertical effect to our indoor gardening environment? The solution comes replete with a rich and stunning history dating back to the ancient Nile, Pharaohs, Egyptian gods, and Moses in the bulrushes. Welcome to papyrus, one of the most important plants in early human civilization.

Papyrus (Cyperus papyrus), is undoubtedly the most famous member of the genus Cyperus (kupeiros is Greek for sedge), which is comprised of some 4,000 to 5,000 species, several of which are well-suited for indoor and outdoor pond gardens. The species name papyrus derives from the Egyptian word meaning “that which belongs to the house,” where house alludes to the ancient ruling body or bureaucracy.

Papyrus is, of course, the source for our word paper, and was also the plant used to produce sheets of paper for thousands of years, beginning as early as 4,000 BC. In fact, a thriving and vital trade existed for this writing material until about the third century AD, when it was found easier to produce paper from plant pulp, in a process introduced into the Middle East from China via Arab traders. Papyrus-paper also faced competition from Europe and the Near East in the form of parchment or vellum, which was made from animal skins, such as calf or sheep (hence getting your diploma or “sheepskin”). Papyrus continued to be manufactured and used in ever-decreasing amounts until the 11th century.

Interestingly, the plant itself all but disappeared from Egypt during the 20th century, due to dams on the Nile and other unsustainable practices. The plants were reintroduced into the area around Cairo from thriving native plant stock in Ethiopia and the Sudan in the late 1960s by Dr. Hassan Ragab, an Egyptian inventor and scientist, who also rediscovered a method for creating papyrus, which has now reemerged as a high-end novelty product and specialty paper.

Papyrus was, however, much more than an everyday paper product. Ancient Egyptians would also use the soft pith of the stem as a foodstuff, cooked and processed like sugar cane, or eaten raw. Ancient pharmacologists, like Galen and Dioscorides, cataloged a wide variety of medicinal uses for infusions made from the plant. Egyptians also harvested and dried the woody rhizomes and culms to use as a fuel – whose ashes were also medicinal! Garlands were woven from the graceful flower heads to adorn the shrines of the gods, and for funeral observances. The stylized representation of the papyrus inflorescence, or umbel, is a central motif in the art of the period, akin to the lotus motif in Eastern art. Fibrous strands taken from the stem of the plant were used to weave sandals, ropes, plaited fans, mats, wrapping materials, and to produce, oh yes, baskets.

Lest we forget, the basket into which Mariam and Jochebed placed the infant Moses to escape the infanticide decree of Pharaoh was woven from papyrus stems. And, as you think of sister Mariam watching the basket float along the Nile and nestle into the bulrushes, keep in mind that bulrush is but another common name for papyrus. Holy Moses!

Today, papyrus can find a ready welcome far from the subtropical banks of the Nile, especially as there are closely related species of sedge which can readily fit into a water garden, pond, or even into an attractive indoor container. Actually, the true papyrus species is overwhelming, and might be more bulrush than you can handle. Under ideal conditions, Cyperus papyrus can grow between 12 and 15 feet tall, with stems approaching six inches in diameter, although most gardeners report that indoors the plant only reaches eight feet. Still, that might be a bit much for the average family room. And don’t forget that all of the papyrus-like species originated in tropical and subtropical climes, and will need to be relocated indoors before the first frost.

A species suitable for the average backyard water feature is dwarf papyrus or miniature cyperus (Cyperus prolifer), which will stay upright and well-ordered at no more than 12 to 36 inches. Like most Cyperus, the plant thrives in full sun and likes to sit in water. Pretty ideal, having a plant that cannot be overwatered! This species can also take light to partial shade in the yard, or will purr happily in a sunny indoor window.

Pygmy Egyptian papyrus (C. haspan) has a sparkling appearance much like a bright green feather duster. It will top out at about 18 inches, and feels at home in a pot filled with a rich, loose soil mix, which is then placed in a second larger container filled with water – or set into an outdoor pond.

My personal favorite Cyperus species actually hails from Madagascar, and while it bears some overall resemblance to papyrus, its leaves are thicker and lie in a flat plane, which easily led to its common name, umbrella plant (C. alternifolius).

Umbrella plant can grow to five feet or more indoors, and slightly larger outdoors, although three to five feet is more common. Another sedge, it has a triangular stem, whose shape lends structure support to keep the stem upright in strong winds, perhaps faring better than the average umbrella. It also loves to sit in water day after day.

In fact, many of us who fancy the plant actually grow it in nothing more than a cachepot or sealed container filled with water, and lined with rocks on the bottom to help stabilize plant roots. In this hydroponic setting, it’s important to fertilize somewhat regularly, especially during active growing and flowering periods. But don’t mind the flowers: nothing much exciting there, mostly a bland, tan, oat-shaped affair.

Like most sedges, umbrella plants can be propagated by dividing the substantial root masses or clumps of rhizomes, keeping the outer, younger sections for replanting, and composting the older core. Although a much more entertaining method, of which I have not tired in more than 20 years, calls for cutting off the top six inches of a stem of the plant, leaves and all, and inverting the whole into a glass or vase of water. After a few weeks, roots will form around the junction of leaves and stem, and new shoots will emerge growing up, out of the water. When well-established, carefully plant the rooted cutting into a loose soil mix and keep well watered – or immersed. You can also continue to let the plant grow in water alone.

For the record, several plants gracing the bookcases in my office are descendants from several cuttings given to me in 1979. They have, over the years, produced huge clumps of plants for my rooftop garden, and smaller, discrete potted specimens for windowsills. Scores have been propagated and given to friends and curious visitors. And the tradition lives on.

Like the Egyptian papyrus alternatives, umbrella plants are available in compact and dwarf varieties, such as sparkler grass (C. alternifolius gracilis) under 18 inches with delicate, narrow leaves, as well as in a related variegated form (C. diffusus variegatus), where both leaves and stems are striped with a touch of creamy white against a wide, light green leaf.

Whether you’re striking out to honor Osiris, or print your own Book of the Dead on homemade papyrus, or maybe just add a little excitement to your parlor window with a dwarf ‘Nana’ umbrella plant, you can find just the right plant through online sources year-round, while many fine garden centers sell potted specimens in their water garden section.

Copyright 2010, Joseph M. Keyser

Native Grasses for a Naturally Elegant Landscape

The introduction of ornamental grasses to the American landscape is one of the defining moments in modern garden design. These grasses, planted in clumps or large masses, recall elements of the nation's vanishing prairie, while adding sophistication and panache to even the most groomed garden.

Regrettably, many of the grasses frequently used, especially those with ostrich feather-like plumes or stylish zebra-stripes, are both exotic and invasive, especially when planted near open fields, and can pose serious problems for our local ecosystem. For a more habitat-friendly approach, gardeners can and should turn to the abundant inventory of native grasses which will provide the same elements of year-round color, texture, and graceful, swaying motion.

One of the most widely available and popularly used native grasses is big bluestem (Andropogon gerardi), or "turkey foot," affectionately dubbed "monarch of the prairie" by some horticultural boosters. Big bluestem was the dominant species of grass which formed our fabled tall grass prairies, as well as the sod used by homesteaders (sodbusters) and pioneers to build sod huts.

Sod dwellings don't show up very much in most parts of the country, but big bluestem does, both in habitat restoration plantings and in backyards, where they are frequently clumped in mulched planting beds or "grass islands" which decoratively float atop a trimmed lawn. Formal plantings also use these seemingly untamed specimens to dramatically frame a front entrance or serve as sentinels at the end of a driveway.

Big bluestem can reach up to ten feet in height and prefers full sun, although it is tolerant of partial shade and either moist heavy, or sandy, drier soils. Like most native grasses, it prefers being left alone, and fertilizing or unnecessary watering will simply lead to floppy growth. This is a tough plant, let it prove itself! The plant's common name comes honestly from its vertical height and the subtle blue tint of the stem. And while the leaves remain bluish-green during much of the year, autumn frosts help transform that foliage to a mellow bronze or copper shade which will last throughout the winter.

The plant's less common name originates with the three-fingered prongs or "rames" of the purplish-blue seed head, which resembles a turkey's foot, and which begin forming in late summer, and provide seed to a host of migratory and native songbirds through early winter.

A close cousin to big bluestem is little bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium), which shares many of its relation's best characteristics, although it is best planted in masses for best effect, especially considering the beauty of watching a whole miniature sea of grass swaying their silver seed heads in the breeze.

Also a sun lover, the fluffy, tufts of this species mature on a clump-forming plant destined to stay between two and three feet in height. Like most sod-forming grasses, little bluestem does most of its growing underground, sending roots eight feet deep, which makes it equally adaptable to periods of drought or flooding. These qualities make it ideal for erosion control and mower-free hillside stabilization. It is also salt-tolerant, which nominates it for use as en edging plant along sidewalks and curbs.

For gardeners looking for a mid-size grass, there are few more noteworthy than switchgrass (Panicum virgatum), a full sun plant that can adapt to partial shade and either moist or dry conditions. It is wonderfully useful as either a specimen plant, or in small, bush-like clusters, or even planted en masse. Maryland-based garden writer Carole Ottesen favorably compares these massed plantings to a field of wheat. Staying somewhat between three and eight feet tall, depending on soil conditions, the rich green foliage slowly takes on a buttery-cream complexion in fall.

Another attractive and adaptable option for yards with light to moderate shade is bottlebrush grass (Hystrix patula). This species is modest in most respects, averaging only two to five feet in height, and producing only moderately attractive, medium-green foliage, turning straw-colored in autumn. However, the bristly seed heads are quite remarkable, resembling by turns an actual bottlebrush or the long quills of a hedgehog, from which the genus name Hystrix (porcupine) is taken.

And while almost all grass seed heads make for wonderful dried or cut flower arrangements, bottlebrush flowers are incomparable when placed in a window for a striking bit of backlighting.

A close rival for flower arranging - and garden use - is northern sea oats, or river oats (Uniola latifolia), a low-growing, shade-tolerant species whose 30 inch height makes for an excellent ground cover or placed along a perennial boarder, where visitors can fully appreciate its drooping clusters of oat-shaped seeds and rusty-orange fall foliage.

In the same vein, broom sedge (Andropogon virginicus), another cousin of the bluestems, works well as a ground cover or for erosion control, with bluish-green clumps keeping to about 20 to 30 inches in height, with another foot or two more for its inflorescence. Like many of our favorite native grasses, autumn brings on a rich orange color, with seeds for meadow birds and the occasional migrant.

Clearly, the range and application of native grasses is limited only by the size of the garden bed or landscape, and its desired use. Taller and medium sized grasses can serve as hedges or screens, to hide unattractive fences or foundations, or more properly as a backdrop for other garden plantings. Typically, these individuals are best spaced two to three feet apart.

Medium to low-growing specimens often work best in larger groupings, planted one to two feet apart, and are used successfully as ground covers, especially those shade-loving or shade-tolerant grasses which can fill in nicely under mature trees with open scaffolding or along the edge of a wooded area.

A key to making the most of native ornamental grasses is combining them with other flowering natives, or non-invasive annuals and perennials, which will compliment the structure and form of the grasses, while providing color during the spring and summer, as well as a low-flowing, spreading appearance.

Lastly, to truly transform your grass islands or prairie shrubbery into an outdoor bouquet, try to marry the bronze, orange, and copper hues of fall foliage, to say nothing of their crimson-purple flowers and rusty-brown seed heads, with the floral display of late-summer and autumn show-offs like joe-pye weed, sunflowers, asters, ironweed, and goldenrods.

With any luck, the memory of your grassy garden, along with vases filled with bold sprays of seed heads, will keep you smiling all winter long.

Copyright 2009, Joseph M. Keyser

Discovering the Secrets of Papyrus

In recent years, ornamental grasses have become de rigueur for most modern garden designs. They are graceful, tall, and elegant – rather much the Audrey Hepburn of horticulture. But how can we translate this vertical effect to our indoor gardening environment? The solution comes replete with a rich and stunning history dating back to the ancient Nile, Pharaohs, Egyptian gods, and Moses in the bulrushes. Welcome to papyrus, one of the most important plants in early human civilization.

Papyrus (Cyperus papyrus), is undoubtedly the most famous member of the genus Cyperus (kupeiros is Greek for sedge), which is comprised of some 4,000 to 5,000 species, several of which are well-suited for indoor and outdoor pond gardens. The species name papyrus derives from the Egyptian word meaning “that which belongs to the house,” where house alludes to the ancient ruling body or bureaucracy.

Papyrus is, of course, the source for our word paper, and was also the plant used to produce sheets of paper for thousands of years, beginning as early as 4,000 BC. In fact, a thriving and vital trade existed for this writing material until about the third century AD, when it was found easier to produce paper from plant pulp, in a process introduced into the Middle East from China via Arab traders. Papyrus-paper also faced competition from Europe and the Near East in the form of parchment or vellum, which was made from animal skins, such as calf or sheep (hence getting your diploma or “sheepskin”). Papyrus continued to be manufactured and used in ever-decreasing amounts until the 11th century.

Interestingly, the plant itself all but disappeared from Egypt during the 20th century, due to dams on the Nile and other unsustainable practices. The plants were reintroduced into the area around Cairo from thriving native plant stock in Ethiopia and the Sudan in the late 1960s by Dr. Hassan Ragab, an Egyptian inventor and scientist, who also rediscovered a method for creating papyrus, which has now reemerged as a high-end novelty product and specialty paper.

Papyrus was, however, much more than an everyday paper product. Ancient Egyptians would also use the soft pith of the stem as a foodstuff, cooked and processed like sugar cane, or eaten raw. Ancient pharmacologists, like Galen and Dioscorides, cataloged a wide variety of medicinal uses for infusions made from the plant. Egyptians also harvested and dried the woody rhizomes and culms to use as a fuel – whose ashes were also medicinal! Garlands were woven from the graceful flower heads to adorn the shrines of the gods, and for funeral observances. The stylized representation of the papyrus inflorescence, or umbel, is a central motif in the art of the period, akin to the lotus motif in Eastern art. Fibrous strands taken from the stem of the plant were used to weave sandals, ropes, plaited fans, mats, wrapping materials, and to produce, oh yes, baskets.

Lest we forget, the basket into which Mariam and Jochebed placed the infant Moses to escape the infanticide decree of Pharaoh was woven from papyrus stems. And, as you think of sister Mariam watching the basket float along the Nile and nestle into the bulrushes, keep in mind that bulrush is but another common name for papyrus. Holy Moses!

Today, papyrus can find a ready welcome far from the subtropical banks of the Nile, especially as there are closely related species of sedge which can readily fit into a water garden, pond, or even into an attractive indoor container. Actually, the true papyrus species is overwhelming, and might be more bulrush than you can handle. Under ideal conditions, Cyperus papyrus can grow between 12 and 15 feet tall, with stems approaching six inches in diameter, although most gardeners report that indoors the plant only reaches eight feet. Still, that might be a bit much for the average family room. And don’t forget that all of the papyrus-like species originated in tropical and subtropical climes, and will need to be relocated indoors before the first frost.

A species suitable for the average backyard water feature is dwarf papyrus or miniature cyperus (Cyperus prolifer), which will stay upright and well-ordered at no more than 12 to 36 inches. Like most Cyperus, the plant thrives in full sun and likes to sit in water. Pretty ideal, having a plant that cannot be overwatered! This species can also take light to partial shade in the yard, or will purr happily in a sunny indoor window.

Pygmy Egyptian papyrus (C. haspan) has a sparkling appearance much like a bright green feather duster. It will top out at about 18 inches, and feels at home in a pot filled with a rich, loose soil mix, which is then placed in a second larger container filled with water – or set into an outdoor pond.

My personal favorite Cyperus species actually hails from Madagascar, and while it bears some overall resemblance to papyrus, its leaves are thicker and lie in a flat plane, which easily led to its common name, umbrella plant (C. alternifolius).

Umbrella plant can grow to five feet or more indoors, and slightly larger outdoors, although three to five feet is more common. Another sedge, it has a triangular stem, whose shape lends structure support to keep the stem upright in strong winds, perhaps faring better than the average umbrella. It also loves to sit in water day after day.

In fact, many of us who fancy the plant actually grow it in nothing more than a cachepot or sealed container filled with water, and lined with rocks on the bottom to help stabilize plant roots. In this hydroponic setting, it’s important to fertilize somewhat regularly, especially during active growing and flowering periods. But don’t mind the flowers: nothing much exciting there, mostly a bland, tan, oat-shaped affair.

Like most sedges, umbrella plants can be propagated by dividing the substantial root masses or clumps of rhizomes, keeping the outer, younger sections for replanting, and composting the older core. Although a much more entertaining method, of which I have not tired in more than 20 years, calls for cutting off the top six inches of a stem of the plant, leaves and all, and inverting the whole into a glass or vase of water. After a few weeks, roots will form around the junction of leaves and stem, and new shoots will emerge growing up, out of the water. When well-established, carefully plant the rooted cutting into a loose soil mix and keep well watered – or immersed. You can also continue to let the plant grow in water alone.

For the record, several plants gracing the bookcases in my office are descendants from several cuttings given to me in 1979. They have, over the years, produced huge clumps of plants for my rooftop garden, and smaller, discrete potted specimens for windowsills. Scores have been propagated and given to friends and curious visitors. And the tradition lives on.

Like the Egyptian papyrus alternatives, umbrella plants are available in compact and dwarf varieties, such as sparkler grass (C. alternifolius gracilis) under 18 inches with delicate, narrow leaves, as well as in a related variegated form (C. diffusus variegatus), where both leaves and stems are striped with a touch of creamy white against a wide, light green leaf.

Whether you’re striking out to honor Osiris, or print your own Book of the Dead on homemade papyrus, or maybe just add a little excitement to your parlor window with a dwarf ‘Nana’ umbrella plant, you can find just the right plant through online sources year-round, while many fine garden centers sell potted specimens in their water garden section.

Copyright 2008, Joseph M. Keyser