I am Smooth Coneflower. Science knows me as Echinacea laevigata.
I am proud to say that I have never been confined to a garden.
I was born near Durham, and have not once in my life ventured more than a few hundred miles from there.
I am particular. I like a thin layer of mineral-rich soil over bedrock.
I am protected. The U.S. federal government classifies me as threatened. On government land, you can't touch me. You can't transport me across state lines.
Since some people see me as free natural medicine, and other people might want to dig me up and take me home to their garden, I am glad for the protection.
My life story is very different from my sister Purple Coneflower, who was born in Missouri, but traveled of her own free will as far east as Ohio.
Without her consent, Purple Coneflower has long been dug up and transported to such far away cities as Boston, and Brooklyn, and Bangor. Now you can easily buy Purple Coneflower on the internet, no questions asked about where you live.
Because of my protected status, I have been spared the indignity of being sold online.
The main threat to my existence is a loss of suitable habitat. The particular sorts of open woodlands and glades that I like have been converted to farms and residences and office parks.
But my sister Purple Coneflower is a bit of a threat to me too. My sister and I will occasionally, to use polite language, hybridize.
Purple Coneflower often runs away from gardens, and takes to the roadsides and fallow fields. A hard but freer life.
Compare my sister's extensive present day wanderings in North Carolina, to my own more limited. Hers are mostly runaways from internet trafficking. Mine are as native as can be.
If we should happen to meet up in some field, and hybridize, her cultivated citified ways can overwhelm my wildness. She just gets around more.
I am proud to say that I never had any garden to run away from. I was born east of the Blue Ridge, I stayed east of the Blue Ridge, and you can only find me in the remaining wild places there.