Texas Trailing Phlox
Among Texas’s earliest harbingers of spring, phlox begins overspreading the land in early March, transforming fields and ditches with flowers of lavender, white, scarlet, and pink.
As they do, one of our state’s rarest native plants, the Texas trailing phlox (Phlox nivalis ssp. texensis), makes its appearance in the piney woods of east Texas. Although the plant can be found throughout the year, it’s most visible during its flowering from March until May.
Once considered extinct, the flower was rediscovered by Geyata Ajilvsgi of Bryan, Texas in 1972. After photographs appeared in her 1979 book Wild Flowers of the Big Thicket and word of the plant began to spread, efforts to preserve the species increased.
In 1980, Mahler reported only a few Texas trailing phlox populations left in the wild; the plant was listed as a federally endangered species in 1991, and listed by the state of Texas in 1993. Initially, the plant was known from only one site in Hardin County. Thanks to restoration and reintroduction efforts, as well as efforts by sharp-eyed searchers, the number of known sites increased. Today, at least twenty-one sites are scattered across Hardin, Polk, and Tyler counties; no doubt undiscovered plants exist. 
Historically, Texas trailing phlox occurred in longleaf pine or pine-hardwood forests with relatively open, fire-maintained canopies and sandy soils. As plantations filled with faster-growing loblolly and slash pines became more common, habitat loss due to canopy closure, encroachment by woody vegetation, and human activity increased.
Fire supression over the last century also negatively affected both the longleaf pines and the plants that traditionally thrived among them. Well adapted to fire, Texas trailing phlox may appear destroyed by encroaching flames, but underground it remains undamaged. New growth can appear as soon as two weeks after a spring burn; even plants that previously had flowered have been known to re-sprout and bloom again.
Actually finding Texas trailing phlox in bloom wasn’t easy, especially since I was limited to occasional visits to the area; I searched for several years. That said, guidance from locals and knowledge of its ‘companion plants’ offered some clues. Knowing where I could find plants like soft green-eyes (Berlandiera pumila), queen’s delight (Stillingia sylvatica), Revershon’s spiderwort (Tradescantia reverchonii), and pinkscale blazing star (Liatris elegans) offered a starting point. Once I’d found the phlox, it became a matter of timing; although I arrived at the end of these plants’ flowering, I wasn’t too late to see them bloom.
Any number of individuals and groups are continuing the efforts to protect this and other endangered Texas natives. As David Creech, Director of Gardens at Stephen F. Austin State University in Nacogdoches puts it, “Goals in the endangered plants arena are really quite modest. We have a mantra we call the “three R’s”… rescue, research, and reintroduction.”
Texas Parks & Wildlife, the Mercer Arboretum and Botanical Gardens, the Nature Conservancy, and The Big Thicket National Preserve are among the organizations that have helped to ensure that Geyata Ajilvsgi’s discovery continues to thrive. May their numbers — and the numbers of this pretty phlox — increase.
Lagniappe 
It’s encouraging to hear about your successful quest to find this endangered species, and to find it flowering. Did you have trouble distinguishing it from the more common kinds of phlox we have in Texas?
I’d seen plenty of photos of it (like this one by Matt Buckingham), so I knew to look for the needle-like leaves that you can see in my first photo. The stems attain some height, too. Here’s a TP&W photo that shows that. I first saw it growing at the Pineywoods Native Plant Center in Nacogdoches, when I was trying to track down the Winkler’s Gaillardia, but those plants weren’t blooming.
Here’s what the 2020 Species Status Report says: “Its creeping, subshrub habit; potentially basally woody stems (the plant itself is not woody); styles that are shorter than its sepals; and, the subulate leaves distinguish the Texas trailing phlox from all the other Phlox in Texas.”
That constellation of characteristics clinches the identification.
I’m always in favor of beautiful things becoming less rare. This one is a real doozy.
Most of the year it’s less noticeable because of its habit of keeping close to the ground, but when it blooms, those pink flowers really shine.
Yes, when they survive fires, they will survive anything except human activities it seems. Good on ya, trailing phlox.
This one not only survives fire, it profits from fire that clears out the understory. That’s one reason prescribed burns are used in longleaf pine forests; to make it possible for plants that historically lived beneath the trees to thrive.
With more and more species becoming endangered or extinct, it’s always encouraging to hear about the successes.
There are a lot of people involved, like the Center for Plant Conservation, a network of 63 botanical gardens, arboreta, and organizations working to promote plant diversity.
Anita Tiller, lead botanical researcher for our local Mercer Arboretum and Botanical Garden says, “Mercer is responsible for nearly 30 plant species in the [Center for Plant Conservation’s] National Collection of Endangered Plants, but we shelter many other CPC plants as backups for our partner institutions. Some of these plants are displayed in Mercer’s Endangered Species and Native Plant Garden for the public to view.”
It’s entirely possible I could have found this plant blooming at Mercer, or at the gardens at Stephen F. Austin University, but it was a lot more challenging and fun to look for it in its natural setting.
I’m sure I’d prefer to see it in its natural setting, too. Just seeing it in an arboretum has that slight flavour of an animal only existing in a zoo, rather than in the wild. Having said that, these institutions are becoming more and more important nowadays.
It’s a nice ‘plus’ that they offer people an opportunity to see and become familiar with native plants of all sorts, but their research, and function as seed banks, is even more important. Even figuring out what sort of conditions are best for propagating rare plants is quite a challenge.
Yes, that research is ever more important.
I was going to mention Mercer, but I see you are aware of their work. I have been following Dave Creech’s blog. He has recently put up a post.
I read his post about their work with Myrcianthes fragrans with interest. I didn’t realize they have research gardens down at Moody. That would make for an interesting visit. When I was browsing around the Mercer site, I saw that they’ve done quite a bit of work with gingers; it wouldn’t surprise me if you were involved with that. Are you still volunteering there?
I started my volunteering at the ginger greenhouse. I volunteered quite a few years until I had surgery that set me back and Harvey hit the gardens which closed the volunteer cottage that was used for cool down breaks. I learned a lot during those years, took courses and worked beside knowledgeable people. I’ve met Anita and took a class or two from her.
Wonderful to see your sleuthing efforts finally rewarded. This is a lovely plant, and I enjoyed your story of its re-discovery and recovery. The reference photos you linked seem to show it upright rather than trailing. Do the stems lay down after blooming?
It seems the stems do go back to ground after the bloom. If they didn’t, it would be easier to find this plant, which tends to creep along the ground until time to bloom. If you look at the photos on page three of the of the Species Status Assessment, the photo showing the seed formation also shows the declining stems.
I noticed the use of the word ‘clade’ somewhere in that assessment report. I can’t find it now, but when I have a little time I’ll go back and see if I can locate it. I noticed you used it again in your entry about the grebes, and I think you’ve used it once here. The concept was new to me. I did find a Reddit entry that explained the difference between traditional taxonomy and clades fairly well. For my purposes, the binomial system’s just fine, but it’s good to know about this new system, and its rationale.
I see what you mean about difficult to find… this phlox really blends in once it is lying down. The hot-house-variety creeping phlox can be propagated from seed or from rooting a cutting, so the trailing habit might cast seed farther from the parent plant, and the stems lying on the ground might also spawn new plants by rooting from where the stems touch the ground. Clever plant!
I found the clade charts when I was first researching my post about the Pied-billed Grebe, and the strange claim that its closest living relative is the flamingo. The Linnaean taxonomy reflects shared visible characteristics, while the cladistic charts reflect shared genetic inheritance. Certainly the Linnaean taxonomy is much more settled and familiar than the cladistic; a “consensus avian phylogeny” was only agreed in 2017.
Thanks for the information about cladistic charts. There’s always something new, and it makes sense that they would have developed, given advances in DNA analysis and such.
It’s wonderful that it was rediscovered and appears to be doing relatively well. There are always gems for the practiced eye and the willingness to spend the time exploring. Best wishes – David
When it’s healthy and in a congenial environment, it’s even more lovely; it grows in relatively large clumps, and just glows. Here’s David Creech and some of his handiwork.. It’s wonderful that the plant people have found ways to help it thrive.
Such a sweet flower. Glad to read they are not extinct.
A little intervention at the right time can change the course of history: plant, animal, or even human, I suppose. So often it’s the people who spend a lifetime in particular spots who are able to make discoveries like this. Traveling far can be fun, but traveling deep can be more productive.
Glad your quest for this beauty met success. Also happy to learn it has been saved from the brink. Interesting how prescribed burns are restoring the longleaf pine forests and their understory companions.
I love the description of historic longleaf forests as “prairies with trees.” The open canopy allows for a profusion of grasses and forbs, including different species of genera that we see here on our coastal prairies. It’s all so interesting!
I love phlox (we have two non-endangered kinds). So glad you found this one!
My impression is that the phlox we can pick up at nurseries and grocery stores are easy to grow. With luck, this one will share those characteristics, and flourish. Its needs are so particular it probably never will do for someone just wanting to fill a hanging basket, but that’s all right. Not everything needs to be commercialized.
my tall phlox is still blooming. the trailing phlox is very sweet and I love that first picture. I always learn so much from your posts. probably don’t remember any of it but oh well.
I was so happy to find one plant still in bud. It’s a cute flower, but that bud atop the tall stem, with those needle-like leaves, really distinguishes it from our more common native species. Look at all these Texas beauties. Next spring I may devote a little extra effort to identifying some of them.
It was a great dedication by those organizations to work toward restoration of this species and the same for you to find it yourself. Nice sleuthing with the companions as guidance.
The full list of plants that can be found in the same area as these phlox is far more extensive, of course. I only listed a few of those I recognize; most of the grasses still are beyond me. Apart from the pleasure of finding the phlox, it’s always interesting to find species from the same genera that I see around here: eryngos, liatris, and such.
Beyond all that, one benefit of our ghastly heat is that a little extra indoor time is allowing me to catch up with things I saw earlier in the year, but didn’t post — like this wonderful phlox.
I can sort of grasp what the heat must be like, kinda sorta. We’re currently in a cooler time but for awhile we had 90’s in both temperatures and humidity which was oppressive enough. Add ten or twenty degrees and I’d spend a few hours a day in solemn worship of our air conditioning.
I just purchased a two volume set of “Manual of the Grasses of the United States” by Hitchcock on Amazon. It a few decades old but considered “The Manual “ so hope to start learning them.
I grinned at your reference to 90/90. That’s standard summer around here; no one gives it a thought, except to make an occasional joke about waiting for the real heat to show up. As for the grasses, I’ll be willing to learn to recognize the more common ones. Some are unbelievably beautiful when in bloom.
And turnabout is winter. The temperatures, snow, and ice you have on occasion that can bring everyone in Texas to a halt, or at least part since it is so huge, is par for the course here.
There are a few grasses here that when they are mature and you bump into them send off wispy clouds of seed that are fun to observe but, obviously, not to inhale.
I had a dress in that shade of lavender, and it was lovely. Always made me feed good wearing it, too. We have phlox here, but I’ve never tried growing it. For some people, it seems easy though, giving me hope that one day, I might make the attempt!
Given the ability of baskets and pots of phlox to survive in displays at our grocery stores and such, they must be forgiving. Our wild phlox certainly can put up with a wide variety of conditions; I think they’d do well for you. The variety of colors available now seems wider than in past years, when white, pink, and deep pink seemed to predominate. I’ll bet you could find a variety in that lavender shade that you like.
Well worth your long pursuit of this beauty. Like Debbie, I too love that mauvy lavender.
The lavender is pretty. Another native species, the downy phlox, often presents that same lovely shade. It’s always interesting to see the variety of colors and patterns among the phlox. Clearly, there’s a lot of cross-pollinating going on!
These are pretty — the same beautiful phlox as ours but they look much different. Love that color!
Phlox often seem to be overlooked; they’re relatively common, low-growing in nature, and not as flashy as some flowers. That said, a closer look at their colors and patterns reveals a subtle beauty — and they do so well on a patio!
Kudos on your diligence!
Phlox has always been one of Gini’s absolute favorites. There was a backroad near Kerrville about 100 years ago that was a reliable spot to be dazzled by the little jewels.
What a wonderful story of recovery and, hopefully, regeneration. It’s tempting to wish for areas holding an endangered plant to be marked off somehow in the hope it would increase protection. Alas, it would instead act as a beacon for the unscupulous.
Your photographs are outstanding. Hopefully, in the future there will be a greater number of images due to a greater number of phlowers.
You’re right that drawing attention to endangered plants can be counterproductive. I first heard about the issue when I became interested in our native orchids. There were cautions offered on many sites to withhold their location, since avid collectors or those with commercial interests had been known to dig them up. That seemed odd to me, because it’s clear that so manyof these plants don’t transplant well; they’re just as likely to die. Avarice combined with ignorance doesn’t usually end well.
It’s interesting how predictably phlox will return to the same spot year after year. It’s always fun to visit one of those spots and find expectations rewarded: the old friends still are there.
It must have been a joy to find in flower after so long a search. The light on the last image is lovely.
The ‘finding’ was pleasing, but the searching was fun. It was like a game of botanical Clue; it turned out to be the damp sand at the edge of the pines that had done the deed and produced the flowers.
I’ve had similar experiences searching for local or uncommon butterfly species. I needed to understand the habitat, know associated plants, and then I could find the butterfly – eventually.
And there’s that key word: eventually! There’s another benefit apart from the finding, of course. All the learning that precedes it is as much a joy as the eventual ‘sight of the sought’ itself.
Yes, discovering the connections between living things and the environment that supports them is fascinating.
Yes, discovering the connections between living things and the environment that supports them is fascinating.
It’s such a good one—and yet I have also never seen it in the wild. The SFA gardens used to have some in their display but they seem to be gone now, though we did purchase some when they had their sale this last spring. They are doing well!
Dave Creech had a great post about them a few years ago. There’s a neat photo of him there at the gardens, with quite a few full-sized plants arrayed in front of him. From what I’ve seen of your place, you have places that would suit them just fine — I hope they prosper!
I’m pleased you managed to find it, it really is pretty.xxx
I don’t usually go searching for specific plants, but I knew this one’s limited area happens to be one I visit, so I was a little more intentional than usual in searching for it. Timing counts too, of course. I had found some plants in other years, but was either too early or too late for the bloom. This year, I came at just the right time — it’s the Goldilocks’ style of searching!