Highlands Biological Station · Highlands, North Carolina

A walk through the gardens in July

Twelve acres on the Highlands plateau, walked in order. The map keeps pace as you read — sixteen stops, in at the north gate and out at the south. The photographs are what the staff found along the way. Pick a month and take the walk as it stood that month.

Choose a month

Map of the Highlands Botanical Gardens The view opens on the whole Earth, marks Highlands on the Blue Ridge escarpment, descends through a contour map of the southern Appalachians drawn from elevation data, and arrives at a plan of the station grounds: Lindenwood Lake at the centre, the station buildings and demonstration gardens along its south-west shore, and woodland reaching north-east along the Coker Old Growth Trail. A walking line threads sixteen numbered stops; the map follows along as you read, and each stop can also be selected from the strip beneath it. 1 2 3 4 55 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
Stop 01 of 16

North Gateway

The Teaching Pavilion in Winter

The John W. "Sto" Stowers Jr. Teaching Pavilion sits at the edge of a frozen lake under a rime of new snow, its green roof reduced to a stubble of dormant sedum. Classes meet here from spring through fall. In January it is simply a roof over ice, which is its own kind of instruction.

Stop 02 of 16

Pollinator Garden

Golden Ragwort

Packera aurea

Golden ragwort blazes across late spring with an electric warmth—dozens of small, daisy-like flowers clustered tight, each centered with a burnished disc. The plant thrives in the gardens' sunnier reaches, its cheerful yellow a signal to pollinators that the season is fully underway. By midsummer, these same flowers will have scattered seed across the soil, sowing next year's bright abundance.

Morning Mist over the Pollinator Meadow

Late-summer mist lifts off the lake behind the Stowers Teaching Pavilion while black-eyed Susans and spent seedheads catch the first sun. The pavilion carries its own small meadow overhead on its green roof. By September the planting has gone well past tidy and into abundance, which is the point — nearly everything standing here is food or shelter for something.

Webworm Moth on White Snakeroot

An ailanthus webworm moth works a head of white snakeroot, its orange-and-cream mosaic folded so tightly around its body that it reads more like a beetle than a moth. Snakeroot blooms late and generously, feeding whatever is still flying in September. The plant is toxic to livestock and was once the cause of milk sickness; the insects are unbothered.

Great Blue Lobelia

Lobelia siphilitica

Great blue lobelia opens from the bottom of the spike upward, so one stem carries fresh flowers, spent ones, and tight buds all at once. The color is the unusual part — a true saturated blue, rare in this flora — and bumblebees force their way into the tube to get at it. It wants wet feet and returns a month of late-summer color.

Seedheads over Ice

Round seedheads hold their snow above the frozen lake, each one a spent flower that has already done its work. Leaving them standing through winter is deliberate: the stems shelter overwintering insects and the seeds feed birds long past the point when the planting looks finished. Tidiness would cost more than it is worth.

Cattails on the Frozen Lake

Cattails stand over the frozen lake with their seedheads coming apart, releasing what the wind has not already taken. Snow dusts the shrub layer below. Everything visible here is last year's growth, still upright and still doing work — holding the bank, sheltering whatever overwinters inside it, waiting to fall.

Beebalm by the Lake

Monarda didyma

A single scarlet beebalm flower blooms among tall meadow plants and rattlesnake master at a pond's edge, with a low bridge and forested hill under a cloudy sky beyond.

Pickerelweed

Pontederia cordata

Violet-blue pickerelweed blooms among broad green leaves at a pond's edge, with a low bridge, forested hillside, and blue sky reflected in the water beyond.

Pollinator Meadow in Full Bloom

Pink-purple coneflowers, golden black-eyed Susans, and lavender asters bloom together in a dense, lush summer wildflower meadow.

Stop 03 of 16

Turtle Bay

Snapping Turtle in the Shallows

Seen from above through clear shallow water, a snapping turtle holds still on the bottom, its ridged carapace furred with algae and its long serrated tail trailing behind. This is the posture snappers keep most of the time — motionless, half-buried, waiting. On land they are famously bad-tempered; in water they would rather you not notice them at all.

Snapping Turtle Surfacing

A common snapping turtle breaks the surface of the lake, nostrils and eyes just clear of the water and the rest of it — considerable — hidden below. Snappers spend most of their lives on the bottom, walking rather than swimming, coming up only to breathe. They are ordinary here and easy to miss, which describes most of what lives in the lake.

Eastern Screech-Owl

A red-morph eastern screech-owl sits in the mouth of a nest box with its eyes closed against the daylight, doing what screech-owls do for most of the daylight hours. The species comes in rufous and gray forms, both of which vanish against bark. The box is one of several on the grounds; this one has clearly been accepted.

Rhododendron Over the Lily Pond

Pale pink rosebay rhododendron blooms frame a quiet lily pond dotted with pads and reflections, a green hillside rising beyond.

Stop 04 of 16

Lakeside Bog

Skunk Cabbage

Symplocarpus foetidus

Skunk cabbage emerges through a late-season snow, its thermogenic spathe generating enough heat to melt a path through winter. The plant's distinctive maroon-mottled envelope—striped with pale yellow—encloses the golden spadix, where hundreds of tiny flowers wait to bloom. Few plants in the southern Appalachian spring can muscle their way through snow this way; fewer still announce their arrival with such botanical defiance.

Station archive

Grass-of-Parnassus

Parnassia asarifolia

Grass-of-Parnassus is not a grass at all — the name is a two-thousand-year-old mistake that has simply stuck. What matters is the flower: five white petals scored with fine green veins that lead pollinators inward like runway lights, ringed by yellow-tipped false stamens that make no pollen and exist mainly to look convincing. It blooms in seeps and wet ground in late summer.

Swamp Pink

Helonias bullata

Swamp pink lifts its rose-colored spires above a mat of strap-shaped leaves — one of the rarest plants in the southern Appalachians and federally threatened across its range. It needs saturated ground with cool water moving through it, conditions vanishing almost everywhere else it grows. Along the wet edges of the gardens, it still blooms on schedule each April.

Water Lily After Rain

A single white water lily with a golden center floats among rain-dotted lily pads and slender emergent grasses on dark, still pond water.

Stop 05 of 16

Boardwalk

Jewelweed

Jewelweed hangs its spotted orange trumpets on thread-thin stalks, each one shaped to fit a hummingbird's bill and very little else. Break a stem and it runs with watery sap long used to take the sting out of nettle and the itch out of poison ivy. It grows wherever the ground stays damp, which in these mountains is nearly everywhere.

Turk's Cap Lily

A single orange Turk's cap lily with strongly recurved, dark-spotted petals hangs in sharp focus among slender green buds, more lilies blurred in the meadow beyond.

Wild Blackberries Ripening

A wild bramble cane hung with clusters of blackberries in stages of ripening, from red and unripe to a single dark, ripe fruit, among toothed green leaves.

Summer on the Bog Boardwalk

Yellow-flowered shrubs line a boardwalk railing leading to a green-roofed shelter at the edge of a mountain bog, forested hills and blue sky beyond.

Two Blue Eggs in the Nest

Two smooth, turquoise-blue eggs rest together in a woven twig nest cupped among green leaves.

Stop 06 of 16

Fern Garden

Dwarf Crested Iris

Iris cristata

Dwarf crested iris clusters low among the leaves of early spring, its purple-blue petals crowned with golden crests so precise they might have been painted by hand. These miniature irises—barely a hand's breadth tall—are a gardener's reward for patience and a naturalist's delight: proof that some of the most intricate beauty in the spring woods asks nothing of us but attention.

Station archive

Rhododendron Along the Path

Pale pink rhododendron blooms arch over a narrow gravel path enclosed by dense evergreen foliage, forming a shaded green tunnel.

Rhododendron in Bloom

Clusters of pink-and-white rhododendron flowers and rose-pink buds open across a leafy native shrub in dappled woodland light.

Stop 07 of 16

Moss Garden

Ghost Pipe on the Forest Floor

A cluster of waxy, translucent white ghost pipe stems, their flower heads nodding, rises from the leaf litter and woody debris of the forest floor.

Stop 08 of 16

Rock Outcrop Garden

Fiddleheads and Foamflower

Cinnamon fern fiddleheads unspool at the foot of a moss-covered stump while foamflower sends up its first white spires behind them. This is the gardens in mid-April — everything half-open, nothing yet at full height, the whole understory still deciding how tall it intends to get. Come back in three weeks and none of it will look the same.

Stop 09 of 16

Historic Garden

Stop 10 of 16

Appalachian Ethnobotanical Garden

Stop 11 of 16

Homeowner's Demonstration Garden

Moss and Stone

A low bank of moss runs alongside the path, holding ferns, seedlings, and enough water to matter. Moss has no roots and no vascular tissue; it takes what it needs straight from the air and the rain, which in Highlands is a workable strategy. Cardinal flower burns red in the background, but the moss is the reason this ground stays cool.

The Stone Path in Late Summer

The stone path narrows into the beds and disappears, black-eyed Susans and cardinal flower crowding one edge while blue lobelia climbs the other. Nothing here is planted in rows. The gardens are built to be walked slowly and looked into rather than at, and by late August the plants have claimed the path's edges as their own.

Stop 12 of 16

Pavilion and Lawn

Stop 13 of 16

Woodland Way

Oconee Bells

Shortia galacifolia

Oconee bells bloom low and bright against the forest floor, their white petals rimmed with rose-pink sepals opening one by one across the moss-covered stones of the high country. Endemic to a narrow stretch of the southern Blue Ridge, Shortia galacifolia anchors itself in cool, moist coves—a botanical reminder of the deep time written into these mountains. Each spring, it returns to the same shaded place, a small pink-and-white assertion of belonging.

Station archive

Mottled Heartleaf on the Forest Floor

A pair of heart-shaped leaves marbled in silver and deep green spreads low over the forest floor, a fern unfurling nearby.

Ferns and Galax

Lacy ferns and rounded, glossy galax leaves grow together over a moss-covered log at the edge of a woodland path.

Stop 14 of 16

Rain Demonstration Garden

Stop 15 of 16

Creekside Glade

Green-and-Gold

Chrysogonum virginianum

Green-and-gold spreads across the forest floor like a living testament to its name—the glossy green leaves and bright yellow flowers in perfect balance. Chrysogonum virginianum thrives in the shade of hardwoods, its low, spreading habit making it an ideal groundcover for the gardens' woodland edges. From spring through summer, it blooms steadily, unfussy and reliable, asking little but providing years of golden light in the shadowed places.

Station archive

Creek Bank in Snow

A shallow creek runs clear beneath a snow-covered bank, exposed roots holding the cut edge together and rhododendron leaning low over the water. The leaves have curled tight — a response to cold rather than drought, and a reliable way to read the temperature without a thermometer. Near freezing they droop; well below it they roll shut.

Needle Ice

Needle ice grows out of saturated ground on cold, clear nights — water wicking up through soil and freezing into ribbed columns that lift crumbs of earth as they go. It forms in a few hours and collapses with the first sun. Anyone out early on a January morning can find it along the cut banks; by ten o'clock it is mud again.

Woodland Orchid

Two tall flowering spikes of a woodland orchid rise from a mulched garden bed, each lined with small green-and-pink blooms above broad, ribbed leaves, with ferns behind.

Inchworm on the Move

A green inchworm caterpillar grips the edge of a glossy leaf, its body curved into an S as it inches forward, foliage blurred behind.

Red Mushroom on the Forest Floor

A small mushroom with a bright red cap and pale stalk emerges from a bed of fallen pine needles and twigs on the shaded forest floor.

Stop 16 of 16

South Gateway

Purple Pitcher Plant

Purple pitcher plant sends up its nodding burgundy flowers on tall curved stalks, held well above the traps below so pollinators don't blunder into the wrong part of the plant. The pitchers themselves — veined, water-filled, lying open at the base — do the feeding. In the nutrient-poor bog soils where this species grows, insects supply what the ground cannot.

Fire Pink and Red Columbine

Fire pink and red columbine crowd a lichen-crusted stone wall in the gardens, two of the southern Appalachians' most dependable hummingbird flowers blooming within inches of one another. Fire pink holds its narrow scarlet petals open and flat; columbine's spurred lanterns nod above on wiry stems. Between them they keep the wall in color from April into June.

The Gardens Path in Summer

A curving stone path winds past a wildflower border of pink coneflowers, black-eyed Susans, and lavender asters, with an interpretive sign for the Highlands Botanical Gardens set among the greenery.

Asters Along the Garden Path

Lavender-blue asters bloom in the foreground of a wildflower border beside a cobbled path, with coneflowers, black-eyed Susans, and an interpretive sign behind.

The year, seen whole

Every identified plant on record as one thread across twelve months, ordered by when it opens. Solid where it has been photographed here, pale where it is on record but nobody has caught it yet. The scene photographs along the walk are not in here — a bird's nest or a morning fog is a moment, not a season. Click any thread to jump the walk to that month.

Photographed On record, not yet photographed

Everything on record

The reference layer beneath the photographs — every plant known to flower here, month by month, whether or not anyone has photographed it yet. Not affected by the filters above.