Jess Cole
Native Plants Books
From the gardener's bookshelf.
When I was a child, I spent hours upon hours of each day reading—in my tree house, the stairs my grandfather built for me by our creek, my bed, on the bus, at the dinner table—wherever I was not forbade. Books, journaling, and making lists have consumed my life, historically, and still do. Nowadays these books are, almost always, nonfiction and centered around the natural world.
In a reality now so tethered to screens, where knowledge is shared through the echo chamber of A.I.-compiled Google searches, I still turn to books as my most reliable resource on plants. In paper, I discover novel thought, bizarre perspectives, and beautiful observations. There is something to learning by book that cannot be replaced by technology.
This month, I want to share the six books concerning the natural world of Louisiana that have touched me most in the past decade. Though it was hard to narrow, these six have greatly influenced my work and helped broaden my knowledge of native plants and the environment we call home.
[Read this: Try This, Not That - Trading popular landscaping plants for native alternatives]
Bayou-Diversity: Nature and People in Louisiana Bayou Country by Kelby Ouchley
This is, perhaps, the absolute most fun book I have ever encountered. I read this book, and its sequel, Bayou-Diversity 2, on a constant rotation. It is so interesting, so diverse, and so easy, especially if you only have a few moments at a time to read. This collection of vignettes on local flora and fauna is a product of Ouchley’s long standing public radio program of the same title. The petite essays cover nearly anything you could fathom involving Louisiana's natural environs. Two of my most beloved, as of late, are “Swamp Rabbits” and “Bottom Land Oaks vs. Upland Oaks.” This is my most gifted book, hands down. I should purchase it in bulk.
Find a copy at lsupress.org.
Gardening with Native Plants of the South by Sally and Andy Wasowski
This stellar book on plants native to the Gulf Coast withstands the test of time. It’s one of the first books that influenced my landscape designs when it came to native plants, with its excellent breakdown of how to use our native plants within formal gardens. Without this book, I would have great trouble designing native shade gardens.
Find a copy at bookshop.org.
Louisiana Wild: The Protected and Restored Lands of the Nature Conservancy by C.C. Lockwood
A classic from a classic! With this gorgeous book, Lockwood brings his readers on a diverse and robust journey around our state, through the lens of his camera. He shares with us images and thoughts on various Louisiana Nature Conservancy properties he has spent time in. I find it to be a joyous ode to the wildly complex and varied landscapes that we call home. This is my favorite of all the Lockwood books I have yet encountered.
Read an excerpt of Lockwood's Louisiana Wild, here, and find a copy at lsupress.org.
In a reality now so tethered to screens, where knowledge is shared through the echo chamber of A.I.-compiled Google searches, I still turn to books as my most reliable resource on plants.
Louisiana Wildflower Guide by Charles Allen, Kenneth Wilson, and Harry Winters
For at least a year, this book never left the canvas tote I call “purse.” These gentlemen offer a wealth of native plant knowledge in an enticing and well-organized manner. It’s an all around incredible guide book that any Louisiana naturalist or plantswoman should hold dear.
[Read more about Charles Allen in this story about Louisiana herbalists, here.]
This book is out of print, but used copies can be found on eBay and Amazon.com.
Native Plants of the South East: A Comprehensive Guide to the Best 460 Species for the Garden by Larry Mellichamp and Will Stuart
This is the only book on this list not from a Louisiana author—which is one of the reasons it's so interesting to me. Mellichamp is a renowned biologist, professor, and author out of North Carolina with a wildly inspiring understanding of the southeast as a whole. I think it's important to look beyond our immediate surroundings to see the bigger picture, especially in our rapidly changing natural environments and interesting, seemingly erratic, climate as of late. The Southeast and how the Mississippi River defines us and our surrounding states is endlessly fascinating to me, and Mellichamp explores it with verve.
Find a copy at hachettebookgroup.com.
Wild Flowers of Louisiana by Caroline Dormon
I have purposely placed this book last, for it is of the utmost importance to me. When we purchased the old cottage that I call home, we unintentionally acquired sixty percent of the objects within the cottage from the eccentric couple, nearing the age of one hundred, who had originally built the house. My home was their weekend oasis where they curated plants, catalogued Native American artifacts, and hosted parties over rum and cards next to the tiny woodstove. The greatest of all the treasures inherited was the majority of their book collection—mostly vintage plant books and other musings surrounding the cultures and natural world of Louisiana. I kept every single one they left behind. The greatest gem was a tiny collection of Caroline Dormon books.
[Read this: In the Longleaf's Shade - The wild and wondrous life of Caroline Dormon]
Dormon is a national treasure. Elementary Louisiana history class failed us all, greatly, to have not heralded her, nor even mentioned her. Organized by plant families, this book includes her plant descriptions, which are thoughtful and distinct. She uses words and phrases I have never encountered in the plant world. In addition to her botanical meditations, vivid botanical drawings are throughout. She was entirely self-taught and the most knowledgeable plants person I have ever read; it’s incredible what a vast knowledge she accumulated of the natural systems and native plants of the entire state in such a time. Caroline Dorman is the truest of naturalists and the realest Girl Scout there ever was. I stumbled upon an original signed copy of Wildflowers, furled edges and all, last Christmas. I have never stuttered over an object more. I mostly study my inherited copy, but often carefully flip through this old, delicate edition … Her choice of poetic wording, her use, often, of antiquated Latin nomenclature, her conciseness and forthright language … I learn so much from it all. My 1934 edition of Dorman’s Wildflowers of Louisiana, my rookie Michael Jordan card, and my old Grumman canoe are the resplendent entirety of my child's inheritance.
This book is out of print, but used editions can occasionally be found on eBay and other used booksellers.
