Jewelweed provides joy and sweetness to gardener visitors

Near streams, and at the edges of swamps it’s blooming right now, and the timing is no accident. Uncountable thousands of hummingbirds seek out the small orange flowers as they travel south for the high calorie nectar. The little feathered dynamos need to pack on a few extra grams before the big push south to Central and South America, and the jewelweed’s nectar is an amazing 43 to 49% sucrose.

This native annual is Impatiens capensis and yes, it is the same genus as the showy impatiens you may have blooming in your landscape. Tennessee boasts two species in the wild, and the other is quite similar, but sporting yellow flowers instead of the strong UT orange, is aptly called pale jewelweed. I have not run across the pale form in my wild rambles, but the orange form is common in undisturbed wet areas.

There’s lots along the creek in our valley, but I wanted to get some started closer to the house. It grows easily from seed, but I found gathering them isn’t that easy. The first time I reached for one of the many dangling capsules filled with black seed, I was startled when it exploded at the touch of my finger! I remembered then the old timey garden annual known as touch me not, and realized this was yet another impatiens that earned its name because of this explosive character of the seed capsules.

I learned to capture the seeds by cupping my hand carefully around the structure before it blew the seeds past me, though my next trip down to the creek was more successful. I took a plastic bag with me to surround entire stems before snipping a few to take with me.

Something worked, albeit not well, because I have just one plant in my shade garden. It’s a big beauty though, tall as my shoulders and covered with blooms…and little exploding capsules. Next year I expect to be overrun, or so I’m told by folks who say (based on experience) that I might be regretting my choice to get it started.