Yellow flower power

Annual Sunflower

Summer is over and fall has arrived. I know this, not because of the temperature,* but because of a pair of yellow flowers. When I see these particular yellow blooms, I know the weather will soon be changing and the World Series is just around the corner.

(*Speaking of the temperature, who said it could get so cool in Kansas so fast? Is anyone else shocked at how the temperature has fallen?)

The first of these flowers grows just about everywhere, represents Kansas as an iconic image, and is easily recognized. The other flower grows in the tallgrass prairie, rarely attracts attention, and is hardly ever seen, let alone recognized.

The first flower, of course, is the sunflower, that symbol of Kansas, our state flower, making us a part of the Sunflower State. Some folks think of Kansas’ state flower as the large, commercial sunflower, the kind with one giant flower on each stalk, grown for seeds or oil. Those are hybrid plants, derived from the common annual sunflower, but that’s not what the legislators thought of in 1903, when they made the sunflower the state flower.

A patch of sunflowers growing among a stand of Indian grass.

The state flower — Helianthus annuus L. — is the sunflower that grows wild all across the state, particularly along the sides of the road and on the edges of fields. Large spectacular patches of sunflowers set the state ablaze in September with a startling display of yellow.

Actually, there are 11 wild species of sunflowers growing in Kansas; likely more than 11. Most are perennials, but some, like the common sunflower and the prairie sunflower, are annuals. A lot of cross-pollination happens, making it difficult to identify what is what when it comes to sunflowers.

Identifying the second yellow flower that fills my mind with thoughts of autumn is decidedly easier. Getting a good look at it, however does not come so easy, especially as my eyes get older. These yellow fowers won’t show up as a firey patch of sunshine along the side of the road. No, these yellow flowers are barely seen at all.

These flowers grow on Indian grass, which along with big bluestem is one of the tallest of the tallgrass prairie grasses. Yes, grasses do flower, and those flowers growing in the head — the inflorescence — of Indian grass are every bit as yellow as a sunflower. You just have to look harder.

Close-up of the inforescence of Indian grass, showing the yellow anthers hanging down.

Indian grass (Sorghastrum nutans) fills the tallgrass prairie of the Kansas Flint Hills, reaching heights of 5-7 feet, like the turkeyfoot that often grows in the same fields and pastures. Instead of a three-pronged “claw” at the top of the stem to identify it, however, Indian grass sprouts a plume-like inflorescence that is every bit as soft as a feather.

In the fall, this inflorescence spreads out and sprouts hundreds of tiny yellow anthers. You have to look closely; these flowers won’t dominate the landscape like patches of sunflowers.

Good things, however, show up for those who look intently and are willing to study the details.

Once you have found the yellow color of Indian grass, stand back and take in a large patch of this sturdy warm-season grass. You will begin to see the color, even from a distance.

Back up a little farther and try to take in the whole field of Indian grass. You won’t be blown away like with the yellow bombs of sunflowers that clamor for attention. You will begin to notice a gentle yellow hue, mixed in with the light-green shades of the grass itself. Then you will realize the complexity of the tallgrass prairie. Sometimes it screams for attention, while at other times, it’s content to show off its subtleness.

Broad, open plumes of Indian grass, especially when grown in bunches, are easy to spot in the prairie.

Indian grass is one of the four main grasses of the tallgrass prairie, including also big bluestem, little bluestem, and switch grass. Thick patches, with the dense plumes sprouting from the top of the stem, are easy to spot, even from a distance. When you see hundreds of these plumes waving in the breeze, take it as an invitation to come closer and study the details.

So yellow, whether in big sunny disks or miniature drops hanging from a stem, is a powerful color in the fall prairie landscape. Take the time to enjoy the view. And I didn’t even mention goldenrod, another yellow fall standout, clamoring for attention in the fields. We can save that for later.