Photo by John Nelson Each week The Columbia Star features an explanation and picture of a mystery plant given by Dr. John Nelson, the curator of the USC Herbarium. To learn more about the Herbarium, call him at 777-8196. His department also offers free plant identification. www.herbarium.org

Now ’tis the spring, and weeds are shallow–rooted;

Suffer them now, and they’ll o’ergrow the

garden

And choke the herbs for want of husbandry.

Answer to last week’s mystery plantCleavers, Galium aparine Shakespeare, Henry VI (part 2)

Watch out for the weeds. Even in Shakespeare’s time, as now, gardeners had to be vigilant, getting rid of the interlopers as soon as they appeared.

This week’s mystery plant is a spring weed that is popping up, but it’s a wonderful little thing. It’s an old–timey bulb plant for the garden but is not often planted these days. When they suddenly appear in lawns, most people want to get rid of them. They tend to spread themselves around, but they are actually quite charming, and of course, you can buy them. The plants don’t grow higher than a foot tall with a shock of narrow, deep green, odorless leaves.

The stem will bear up to a dozen or more milk–white flowers, each one on a long stalk and very star–like. These flowers tend to get sleepy at dusk and stay closed all night long. They open up again before noon the next day. There will be three sepals and three petals, each of them with a prominent green stripe on the back. Six stamens are inside, their filaments broad and flattened at the base. The ovary is bright green, eventually forming an angled seed pod.

This lily relative is actually native to the Middle East and has been grown for a long time in European and American gardens. It is commonly naturalized east of the Mississippi River and scattered elsewhere in North America often showing up in vacant lots and meadows.

The scientific name alludes to the flowers, the genus actually translates as “bird’s milk,” a name you won’t see in the garden centers. This curious name comes from an ancient notion that white doves were able to produce milk to feed their young. The flowers are as white as doves, hence the connection.

This plant may also be called Star of Bethlehem, a name that has also been used for a completely different spring–bloomer, Ipheion uniflorum, which has bluish–purple flowers and very oniony–smelling leaves.

As charming as this plant is in the garden, it does have a rather poisonous side. All the parts are a bit toxic, especially the bulbs, and it should never be eaten.