Few plants can match the glory of Baptisia australis.

It is an architectural splendor in the late spring/early summer garden - spires of flowers rise above an upright clumping plant that can reach 4 feet high and equally as wide. As summer unfurls, baptisia keeps its green foliage and shape, although the stems fan out a bit as the season wears on. By the time fall arrives, black seed pods rattle on woody stems. In all phases of its garden life, it is sublime.

At first I was surprised to learn that baptisia, commonly called "false indigo," is related to lupines. I love lupines, and so do rabbits. Every time I've planted lupines, the bunnies have bellied up to the salad bar for the all-you-can-eat special. They strip them clean of foliage and flowers, and adding insult to injury, chop the stems in half and leave them in the dirt, like discarded toothpicks.

I've never seen a rabbit snacking on baptisia, possibly because they instinctively know parts of the plant are toxic.

Both lupines and baptisia are members of the legume clan. Standing back and really studying the baptisia's flower spikes, I can see the family resemblance. The flower shape also resembles sweet peas, another kissing cousin.

My baptisia is at least 7 years old, one of the first plants installed in a long herbaceous border along the backyard fence.

It was a single stem in a 3-inch pot when I put it in the ground, after carefully siting it because I was told that baptisia are sullen about being transplanted once established. They have a deep taproot that settles in and if it likes the spot, the plant will thrive. I encircled it with chicken wire for the first few years, enlarging the circle as it grew in size and policing it for rabbit attacks.

Baptisia requires full sun and plenty of space. In shade, plants will grow but produce few, if any, flowers. Baptisia is hardy in Zone 4 and drought-tolerant. These plants also prefer well-drained soil and require average watering once established. Frankly, I seldom directly water my baptisia and it is none the worse for wear.

I prefer the plant as a specimen in the herbaceous border and treat it like a shrub, underplanting it with spring-flowering muscari that have disappeared by the time the baptisia puts on its full growth spurt. Some gardeners underplant with a ground cover, but it should be one that tolerates shade because a hearty-sized baptisia will shade out anything at its feet. It is a good complement to yarrow, columbine and cranesbill geraniums, and its upright form makes it striking at the front or center of a border.

Baptisia, like other legumes, fixes nitrogen in the soil. That means the plant adds nitrogen to the soil rather than using it. Nitrogen then is converted into another form plants can use.

Several years ago I planted "Carolina Moonlight," a newer hybrid baptisia, in the front bed. It produces yellow flower spikes above green foliage, and it has taken some time to really catch hold. This is the first year that it has any real height and a few spires. It was introduced in North Carolina and shares the same reputation for drought tolerance and heat resistance as B. australis.

I also planted a "Twilite Prairieblues," but it didn't return the following spring. This one I'm sure I'll try again, because the flowers are true bicolors in violet purple and lemon-yellow at the center, a fabulous combination. Bred by Jim Ault at the Chicago Botanic Garden, it is a cross between B. australis and B. sphaerocarpa, and is said to be a vigorous bloomer that can reach 5 feet tall in two to three years, flowering from May to mid-June.