The wonder of coneflowers

Originally from the prairies of North America, these glamorous nectar-rich plants have won the hearts of many in the UK

- Anne Swithinbank

UNTIL a couple of decades ago the purple coneflower (Echinacea purpurea) was an uncommon herbaceous perennial usually represented by E.p. ‘Magnus’. Now they are a familiar sight, making tall plants usually around 3ft (1m) high bearing their self-supporting stems of large, purple-pink, daisy-like blooms from July to September. Their natural glamour and nectar-rich flowers are a welcome addition to herbaceous, mixed or prairie-style plantings. There are nine species of echinacea originally from the prairies, meadows, barrens and open woodland of eastern North America where they are now scarce in the wild.

Inspired by the proud bristly cones of disc florets, their name originates from the Greek echinos meaning spiny as in sea urchins or hedgehogs. My favourite is ethereal E. pallida, whose wan shuttlecocks of narrow reflexed petals rise like ghosts, and I’m longing to try the yellow coneflower E. paradoxa. Plant breeders have been hard at work, delivering coneflowers with a wider range of colours, from whites to green, shades of apricot and mango, pinks and reds. There are tufty-looking double blooms and compact cultivars, such as pink ‘Kim’s Knee High’ at 15-24in (38-60cm) that is suitable for smaller spaces and containers.

Drifts of coneflowers

To begin with, my relationship with echinaceas was love-hate, as plants set in our rich clay soil would rot and disappear during winter. While very hardy, echinaceas are firmly adapted to the sudden onset of crisp, cold winter weather followed by a distinct spring. The wavering temperatures of a mild, damp Devonshire winter had them confused and off to meet their maker until we tried a slightly raised border where pots of gritty compost had been emptied out. Suddenly our echinaceas settled, sent down deep roots, bulked up and now return every summer.