I like this plant. I have seen it grown as a perennial in California, but it didn't have the same vibrant urgency. Around September in Chicago nasturtiums sense the end is near and they kick it into high gear. Lush, rampant growth is accompanied by scores of colorful flowers.
This year's nasturtium show was the best ever. Several varieties of heirloom seeds were planted in May. They grew slowly. Went wild in July. Then burst into bloom near August's end. The color palette ranged from luminous yellow to vivid orange to pastel pink to dark red to cinnamon brown.
I never seen such a variation in flower color or leaf design. Some leaves were mottled, others were variegated, while 'Empress of india' foliage had a dark maroonish hue. Sizes also varied with some leaves growing to nearly 5" across.
Knowing I would not have much time to tend my community plot, I planted lots of nasturtium to suppress weeds, thwart the rabbits, and supply the bees with nectar. Along with crinum babies and sunflowers they were part of a low maintenance plan. Nothing is suppose to eat nasturtiums because of its peppery taste. It worked for the rabbits, but no one told the grasshoppers or the aphids.
The grasshoppers did little damage. But the aphids got out of control and actually killed one nasturtium. There were literally hundreds of green aphids on the undersides of the the leaves. I did not want to spray insecticidal soap for fear of killing beneficials. (Unfortunately, earlier in the year while spraying for black aphids on sedum in a roofdeck container, I got a couple of ladybugs and promised not to repeat that mistake.) They took their sweet time, but eventually the ladybug brigade arrived. Adults, larvae, and pupae where everywhere.
I enjoy watching the alligator-like larvae chomp aphid after aphid. So although I would rather not lose a plant or suffer the unsightliness of aphids, it was worth it to see nature's system of checks and balances. Sorta like the tomato hornworm and the predatory wasps, but not as neat.
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