If points were given for enduring extreme climate fluctuations, continents splitting, and glacial cleansing, the aster family would earn more than any other plant family. This is really evident when a diagram of the tree of plant evolution shows the most advanced plant families in the uppermost branches. Once known as the compositae family, a nod to the many small parts that make up each flower, the name change of the mid-nineties recognized (in part) that our North American aster evolved independently, not similarly to European asters.
Close behind we find the orchid family, another highly evolved flowering plant group, sophisticated enough to trap insects for pollination, force them through tubes to soak in a fluid that leaves them drunk, or mimic female bees to such a degree that the male bees never catch on. The most intelligent plants end up as the simple sunflower and complex orchids. The numbers are staggering with the aster family alone, roughly 32,000 members which is equal to the entire grass, oak, and bean families put together.
If any season is more prevalent than another with members of the aster family in the mid-Atlantic, it's fall. Meadows are filled with native asters, goldenrod, and ironweed, a progression of bloom that goes from late summer to late fall. If I had to choose my favorites, picking just a few, I would go for the small flowering, arching stemmed asters. In the garden they flail over neighbors and the gardener must plan for these with timely combinations, ensuring our vertically challenged have something to lean on but not detract from the show. Aster such as A. cordifolius (now Sympyotrichum cordifolium) carry the sweetest little blue flowers and might arch to four feet, potentially five feet if straightened. Beautiful as they bend through oak leaf hydrangea with orange and red fall foliage, alternatively incredible with the powder blue leaves of Rudbeckia maxima or the dark, chocolate and filigree foliage of bronze fennel. Moreover, they are easily modified with a summer trim, which might result in a plant that is only two or three feet tall.
As lovely as all of this sounds, I must warn you of two things. Rabbits are fond of asters in general, although I see scores of flowering plants in the local landscape. Secondly, they are not pretty in pots or containers when purchased from a nursery. Buy them young, before they become too top heavy to stand up and look their best.
Lastly, I might add that observation of good forms in fields nearby might be worth seed collection, dropping a few here and there in your own garden. I have Aster lanceolatus (now Symphyotrichum lanceolatum) blooming where it arrived as a volunteer with its small white flowers and stems to five feet (with support), something the bees and the landowner are happy to find.
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