Swamp milkweed for monarchs

As I arrived home yesterday after a photography expedition (mission: liatris), I saw a butterfly's erratic flight above the tiny patch of garden I cultivate at sidewalk level. Its distinctive flight pattern, like a kite whose freedom is restrained by a string tugged at intervals, quickly identified it as a monarch. It had found the milkweed. I waited in the sun. Humidity 72%. She returned.

Swamp milkweed - Asclepias incarnata - forgives you if you do not plant it in a swamp, and it is ideal for narrow spaces. The monarchs love it. She came back again and again to deposit an egg at a time on the milkweed's leaves. 

This is the first year since 2020 that I did not also plant balloon flower (aka hairy balls, cough), the tall southern African milkweed Gomphocarpus physocarpus, thinking that it, like the annual tropical milkweeds, might do monarchs more harm than good. It's a tough decision because that plant is spectacular visually in tight quarters, and makes passersby very happy.

My monarch sign is now quite obscured by liatris, agastache, snakeroot and the swamp milkweed.

Apart from drought (we water by hand carrying the watering can down two flights), the biggest threat here is dog urine. Bafflingly, many dog walkers let their dogs lift a leg on this tiny garden, despite the sign asking them not to. The repeat applications of dog pee burn the plants' leaves and makes life challenging. It makes me very depressed.

 It's a scrappy garden, but apparently it works.

_____________________

Gardenista column: All about slender mountain mint