Friday, December 14, 2018

Pine Torsos

Linnaeus formally coined the name for pines – Pinus – but at the time he lumped other genera in with the group. Indeed, even today, city-slicker and indoor types consider many conifers to be "pines." Pinus was the Latin name adopted by Linnaeus, and the word is thought to come from Proto-Indo-European peie meaning "to be fat, swell" in reference to its sap or pitch. In Sanskrit pitch is pituh and pinetree is pitudaruh. In Greek pinetree is pitys, as in Sciadopitys, the "Umbrella pine."

Pinus bungeana 'Temple Gem'

Pinus bungeana 'Temple Gem' at the University of Tennessee

I'm sure there are many plantsmen who worship the Pinus genus more than I – I'm more of an Abies (true fir) guy – but no one appreciates more than I the colorful trunks to be found on many pine species. A few years ago I was very surprised to find my introduction of Pinus bungeana 'Temple Gem' happily growing at the University of Tennessee Botanic Garden. It was shaped as a dense pyramid where the trunk couldn't be seen, and if I had come equipped with a saw and loppers I would have removed a liberal amount of the lower foliage so the trunk could be appreciated, as I have on the original seedling in my garden.

Pinus bungeana 'Compact Form'

Alexander von Bunge
Pinus bungeana is native to central and northern China, and supposedly the first European to see it was Russian botanist Alexander von Bunge (1803-1890) in a temple garden near Beijing in 1831. I saw an old specimen at the "Forbidden City" in Beijing thirty years ago, and for all I know it was possibly the same tree old Bunge saw. The trunk was colorful, but sadly the tree was given only a little square of compacted earth where tourists trampled. I grew agitated when a scrawny Chinese ne'er-do-well tossed his still-smoldering cigarette butt at the tree's base. How ironic: he's probably not around any more due to smoking, but P. bungeana is popular in oriental classical gardens because it symbolizes longevity.

Pinus bungeana at the Portland Chinese Garden

A specimen of the "Lacebark pine" can be found in Portland's Chinese Garden that I grafted myself at the beginning of my career. When Portland's garden was undergoing development a large, local landscape firm was hired to place and plant the trees. The knucklehead in charge had my P. bungeana planted at ground level, then later decided to put a retaining wall around the base and filled it with 3' of soil. Fortunately another plantsman – who did know trees – immediately ordered the removal of the fill soil and saved the poor choking tree.

Pinus bungeana at Kew Gardens

Pinus bungeana at Marty Brooks Nursery

Pinus bungeana 'Silver Ghost'

I have seen many wonderful specimen trunks of P. bungeana: photo (1) the famous tree at Kew Gardens, London; photo (2) another at the nursery of Marty Brooks in Pennsylvania which displayed the most color I've ever seen; and photo (3) the spectacular specimen named 'Silver Ghost' at the Dawes Arboretum in Ohio. My question is – what would the Brooks' tree look like if planted in my garden, would it still be as colorful? I do grow 'Silver Ghost' but I have nothing of near comparable size as the original in Ohio, so I don't know if my oldest will ever match the brilliance of the mother tree. I ask these questions though I realize that I'll never live long enough to experiment and find the answers.

Pinus gerardiana

It is obvious that Pinus gerardiana, from Afghanistan, northwest India and southwest Tibet, is closely related to Pinus bungeana. Both species bear needles in fascicles of three and both feature exfoliating bark. A third "lacebark" species, Pinus squamata, was discovered in the 1970's in northern Yunnan, China in a "floristically rich area" according to Debreczy and Racz in Conifers Around the World. With only 36 existing trees (in 2000) it is the world's most rare pine. P. squamata differs from the other two with its needles in fascicles of five, making the new discovery an important botanical link between Pinus species. I've never seen P. squamata to know if the bark exfoliates as attractively as P. bungeana – P. gerardiana does not – but I look forward to the day I can add it to the collection. I have a good-sized specimen of P. gerardiana at Flora Farm, but I consider it a BIO plant (Botanic Interest Only) and it is not in production. It is ornamentally inferior to P. bungeana (USDA zone 4) and is not nearly as hardy (USDA zone 7). The specific name honors Captain Alexander Gerard of the Bengal Native Infantry who discovered it in 1821.

Pinus densiflora

Not surprisingly Pinus densiflora is commonly known as the "Japanese Red pine," for it features reddish flaking bark. It is native to Korea, northeastern China and southeast Russia, but in Japan it is commonly called akamatsu (red pine). I have an old specimen of 'Umbraculifera' with red bark that years ago was called 'Tanyosho' in the trade. I even have my old nursery catalogs where I was selling 1-year Tanyosho grafts for $2.50 apiece. Later I learned that spelling was wrong, and a more accurate translation would be tagyoushoe, but since I don't sell the cultivar anymore it's too late to make amends. South Korean people honor P. densiflora because to them it represents the Korean spirit, and the tree is even mentioned in their national anthem. They detest the "Japanese Red pine" name and the Korea Forest Service refers to it as the "Korean Red pine."

Pinus tabuliformis 'Twisted Sister'

Twisted Sister
Not to be outdone, the Chinese have their "Red pine" too – Pinus tabuliformis, and its bark is similar to P. densiflora. The foliage and shapes of these two (2-needle) species is boring to me, and the only redeeming ornamental value I can find is with the bark. I grow only one cultivar of P. tabuliformis, 'Twisted Sister', which was a seedling selection by Rich Eyre of Rich's Foxwillow Pines, and it is known for young plants that have twisting branches. I think Rich was inspired to borrow the 'Twisted Sister' name from a heavy metal hair band from New Jersey which was popular in the 1970's. And for you stoners out there, not me, Twisted Sister is also the name of a strain of potent weed, and even if you don't know it your children probably do.

Pinus sylvestris

Pinus sylvestris

Pinus sylvestris 'Edwin Hillier'

Pinus sylvestris 'Gold Coin'

Other than the colorful trunk I'm not enamoured with the "Scot's pine," Pinus sylvestris, even though I've grown and sold many cultivars. Early in my career I and other growers referred to the species as "Scotch pine." One day I was taken to task by an irate Scotsman and ordered to correct the name – from Scotch to Scots. He was probably quite friendly when sober, but I didn't want to take chances so I made the change. P. sylvestris has a large range in Europe with var. mongolica extending all the way to northeast China, therefore a lot of variation in hardiness and foliage color exists. I won't go into the details, but the better conifer growers know which strains are the more hardy and which produce the best, most fibrous root systems to aid in digging and transplanting. I still produce a few cultivars of P. sylvestris, such as 'Gold Coin' and 'Gold Medal', but sales for the dwarf or unusual green cultivars are pretty much dead. I couldn't even sell a nice blue selection – 'Edwin Hillier' – and it was dropped from production years ago; but gleefully I spotted a specimen from considerable distance at the Sir Harold Hillier Arboretum a dozen years ago near their impressive conifer hill. Originally the scions were generously sent to me by an ex-Hillier employee B.H. but sadly the last tree was sold with nothing propagated behind it, and 'Edwin H.' joins in a long list of cultivars that briefly flashed before me...only to disappear forever. Bittersweet memories haunt the nurseryman as well as the poet, but that's what you get when horticulture is your livelihood.

Pinus ponderosa

Pinus ponderosa champion tree

Five years ago I drove to the central Oregon town of Bend with a Buchholz Nursery intern, Yuki Tamori – who I dubbed "Today, Tomorrow...Tamori." We stayed for three days with our purpose of hiking during the day and drinking beer at night in the world's beer capital of Bend, Oregon. Sorry Germany, Belgium and elsewhere, Bend is where you go to drink real beer! Yuki "thought" he might pursue a career in horticulture, but Buchholz Nursery cured him of that, and ultimately he returned to Japan and now is a craftsman at a Japanese brewery. One of our day hikes took us through the snow to the Big Tree, the world's largest Pinus ponderosa located in the La Pine State Park.* Of course it has a marvelously configured trunk with plates of red and black. There are three varieties of P. ponderosa: 1) the Pacific ponderosa pine (var. benthamiana), 2) the Rocky Mountain ponderosa (var. scopulorum) and 3) P. ponderosa var. ponderosa, and our visit was to the latter variety. To register as a "champion" tree, one measures the height – in this case 167', the trunk circumference at breast height 348" and the canopy spread 68'...for a total of 532 points. David Douglas was the first European to discover P. ponderosa, and that was near present-day Spokane, Washington in 1826. However he first misidentified it as Pinus resinosa, then in 1829 he realized he had a new pine and named it for its ponderously heavy wood. It is the most widely distributed pine species in North America.

*Wow! Just a few hours after writing about Big Tree I picked up a newspaper article about Oregon parks – which I easily could have missed – that reported that the Champion was no more: "because some 40 feet fell off its crown, the sad result of weather and old age (the tree is estimated to be around 500 years old)."

Pinus jeffreyi

Pinus jeffreyi

John Jeffrey's signature
Pinus jeffreyi is closely related to P. ponderosa with the same beautiful plating bark, in fact most wouldn't suppose the two to be separate species. P. jeffreyi ranges from southern Oregon, through the Sierras and into northern Baja. I am able to identify it due to location and elevation, with P. jeffreyi growing between 6,500-11,000 feet (2,000-3100m). My favorite place to see the species is in Yosemite growing on granite mountainsides where they gain purchase in tiny cracks. At high elevations they can assume a windswept, krumholtz look, and a 6' tree might be as old as a couple of hundred years. The specific name honors the Scottish botanist/explorer John Jeffrey (1826-1854?) who collected the type specimen in California near Mt. Shasta. Jeffrey was working for the Oregon Association in Edinburgh to continue collecting in the footsteps of David Douglas, but sadly he disappeared while trying to cross the Colorado Desert from San Diego. Efforts were made to find him, without success, but wouldn't it be wonderful if someone located his bones along with his detailed diary which was required as a condition of his employment? No photograph or sketches of Jeffrey exist – only his signature taken from one of his letters to Scottish botanist Andrew Murray (7 June 1850).

Pinus pinea

Appian Way
Again, I'm not much impressed with the foliage or form of most Pinus species, however, Pinus pinea – the "Italian Stone pine" is an exception with its characteristic "table-top" appearance; and to complement that, the trunk is wonderful too. Also known as the "Roman pine," one cannot help but to imagine the Pines of the Appian Way where composer Respighi's great crescendo suggests the approach of Roman legions, and where the brass-dominated closing confirms the might of the Roman Empire.* I was attracted to this silly music way before I knew anything about P. pinea. Though listed as only hardy to USDA zone 8 (10 degrees F) I planted one at the nursery but it perished in a 0 degree Arctic blast a few years later, so I'm limited to visiting warm-climate arboreta to see their specimens.

*You can easily google a U.S. Marine Band's rendition because it is a work of the U.S. federal government – one of the few things worthwhile – and therefore the performance is "in the public domain."

Pinus echinata

I had two Pinus echinata planted in the Waterfall section at the nursery, but no visitor was able to identify the species – or really wanted to – but nevertheless they (the trees) both eventually developed attractive trunks. On the Buchholz website I describe P. echinata as "A medium-size evergreen conifer with an open pyramidal form. Long thin needles are light green. An attractive 'airy' tree for the landscape. Ornamental reddish-brown bark appears in scaly plates on mature trees...which is the subject of this blog. The specific name means "spiny" which refers to the sharp-tipped cone scales and the species (also known as "short-leaf pine") occurs from southern New York down to north Florida...and as far east as to Oklahoma and Texas. Other than the attractive trunk, the whore-species will readily hybridize with other Pinus species such as Pinus taeda ("Loblolly pine") and Pinus rigida ("Pitch pine"). After 30 years one of my specimens abruptly turned brown and died...followed by its companion a year later. So: both gone now, and it turned out that a water pipe feeding the waterfall sprung a leak and the two P. echinata specimens died from soaked roots. Yikes!: one day prominent members in the Flora Wonder Arboretum, but a year later both vanished from the ark.

Pinus elliottii

Similar to Pinus echinata is Pinus elliottii, and one could easily argue that neither of the two species add anything ornamental to horticulture...unless you are a trunk-man, a torso-man such as I. P. elliottii is unceremoniously known as the "Slash pine" – what a terrible common name! – that is native to the botanically-speaking hellhole of South Carolina to Louisiana, but I do appreciate its orange to dark-brown fissured, plated bark. Squirrels are particularly fond of the seeds so they have a different perspective of the species. The "Slash pine" or "Swamp pine" name honors Stephen Elliott (1771-1830) who first described it as distinct from the "Loblolly" (P. taeda) species. P. elliottii is useless for my arboretum since it is hardy to only USDA zone 9 (20-30 degrees F), yet, as with P. pinea, I do appreciate seeing it in warm-weather arboreta.

Pinus longaeva

Pinus longaeva

I won't be surprised if they find a pine species growing on Mars – after all Pinus longaeva survives over two miles high in the White Mountain area of southeastern California. It is a fascinating place with dry brilliant-light summers and upwards of 13' (400cm) of snow in the winter. The trunk of a healthy normal-growing P. longaeva at my nursery is not so interesting, but at White Mountain the weathered dead-wood can last for centuries. Some specimens have green needles and maybe even cones even though 90% of the trunk is dead. Even if 100% dead the tree lives on as a wonderful sculpture, a member of the white-stick forest.

Pinus roxburghii

Pinus roxburghii


Pinus roxburghii is the "Chir pine," a USDA zone 8 (10 degrees F) tree that managed to survive for 20 years even though we've been a little colder. Perhaps its Pinus sylvestris rootstock helped it to survive, but five years ago it gave up the ghost. According to Rushforth in Conifers (1987), Pinus roxburghii and the closely related Pinus canariensis "once formed a single population stretching from the Canary Isles across southern Europe to the Himalayas. Unfortunately, a hardy provenance of Chir pine still has to be found." I photographed the tree above in northern India at about 10,000' elevation, but first I had to wait a half hour for a tribe of nomadic Gujjars with their two hundred herd of buffalos to pass.

Pinus montezumae

Pinus montezumae

Mature specimens of Pinus montezumae, a tender Mexican species, have beautiful trunks. I've had it, and lost it, a couple of times, so I should probably give up for good. What kept me trying was a handsome old specimen just 200 miles away at the Washington Park Arboretum in Seattle. One can purchase Montezuma seed but you probably can't be certain if it's pure as the species can hybridize with others. At its best, though, the green pendant needles are long and thin and glisten in the light.

Pinus patula

Pinus patula

Another shining pine with long drooping needles is the Mexican species Pinus patula, and that is one that will survive in my collection. The branches are brittle however, and I've had tops break in a windy rainstorm or with heavy snow. My first start of P. patula was when I bought seed, and I got about 300 for just $10. The problem was that they all germinated. I potted them up and they grew very fast, too fast. What to do with 300, that was too many for me to sell? I kept the best 100 and threw the others out. It took a few years but I sold them all, with the last tree being about 15' tall. I now keep just one specimen at Flora Farm, and it was produced by grafting onto Pinus sylvestris. Its trunk is colored a pleasing cinnamon-red but I have seen older trees in the wild in Oaxaca and they are gray and rough and not so attractive.

Actually I guess I like pines as much as any plantsman, now that I have considered them for this blog. Let's just say that the species with ornamentally attractive torsos are my favorites.

Wednesday, December 5, 2018

Quercine Reflections

Picea breweriana

Foggy gray gloom descended on Friday night and remained throughout the weekend. The Garden was a collection of brooding forms – such as the hunchback of Picea breweriana – that brought no delight to this plantsman certainly. There was no light to illuminate anything, and I stayed indoors for the majority of the weekend, feeling cold and depressed by it all. Ok: that was my problem, not the garden's, so I ventured out on Monday...determined to find something to be happy about. C'mon Buchholz – snap out of it!

Quercus garryana

Actually there's nothing wrong with the oaks in winter; with their leaves out of the way you can appreciate their stoutness. Besides, they appear more mysterious in the fog, more as formidable denizens. I had a girlfriend in my early 20's who said I reminded her of an oak tree, not just any tree, not a pine tree or a fir tree. Of course, back then I had broad muscular shoulders, not like the flabby pads I carry now, but I took her oak comparison as a wonderful compliment.

Quercus garryana

If I have a "favorite" oak it must be our native Q. garryana, and that's because a behemoth specimen grows at the edge of the lawn in front of my house. I have seen a few equally as large, but none larger, and besides – like with people – they all carry their weight differently. The national champion Q. garryana grows out in the middle of nowhere in southern Oregon, where I'm told you have to bushwhack to get to it. It is an astounding 25% larger than mine, and if nothing else I'd like to see a photo of it. I've mentioned before that I bought my property – which we call Flora Farm – primarily because of the huge oak. I guess it's ridiculous to call it "mine" since it sprouted long before me, in fact before white men came to Oregon, and hopefully it will outlast me by many years. From a valid point of view, we can never "own" a native tree, but rather we are just able to coexist for a while.

Quercus lobata

Similarly, though I've never grown or "owned" a Q. lobata – the largest American oak – I was fortunate to witness an impressive stand of the "California Valley oak" in central California about 20 years ago. The details are now vague, but I remember that I and two other plantsmen entered into a military zone where we produced identification and stated our purpose: "to see the oaks!" Apparently we weren't the first so we were granted entry. I didn't know where we were going or what we were up to...until I witnessed some gigantic oaks growing randomly. Wow – that one's big...whoa, that one is really big!...etc. My god – where was my early girlfriend now? Honey – these are some damn huge oaks!

Quercus lobata

Q. lobata is an obvious specific name when you see the dark green leaves – "Elliptic to obovate, with broad, rounded lobes" according to the Hillier Manual of Trees and Shrubs (2014). It is native to the hot, very hot interior valleys, but the roots require a water table to survive. Mature specimens can live up to 600 years which is probably double the age of my Q. garryana, and at maturity Q. lobata's branches assume a drooping characteristic which gives the tree a wonderful silhouette in the winter sky. The largest valley oak (153' tall) has been growing for centuries near Covelo, California on what is now the Fetzer ranch, and it is believed to be the largest oak in America. The base is so big that it would take 20 people standing shoulder to shoulder to encircle it. The current "owners" say that if the tree dies in their lifetime, "We'll give it the biggest funeral this valley has ever seen." Probably no one has consulted with the remnants of the Native Yuki tribe who were ousted from the territory as to how they'll grieve at its death.

Quercus dentata 'Carl Ferris Miller'

I have an impressive specimen of Quercus dentata 'Carl Ferris Miller' at Flora Farm which now features yellow-orange* leaves. The leaves will persist throughout winter but eventually turn to mocha brown, but then they are still attractive. Though native to Japan, Korea and China, and commonly called the "Daimyo oak," Carl Peter Thunberg gave the specific epithet dentata for the Portuguese word for "small toothed." The word can also mean a "bite, nip or snap," so beware of Japan's Ainu and Shinto legends of a vagina dentata where a sharp-toothed demon hid inside the vagina of a young woman and wreaked havoc on two young men on their wedding nights. Supposedly the woman sought help from a blacksmith who produced an iron phallus to break the demon's teeth.

Quercus dentata 'Carl Ferris Miller'

Carl Ferris Miller
*Hillier mentions the cultivar of Q. dentata 'Carl Ferris Miller', that it was "Selected from plants grown at Hemelrijk, The Netherlands,** from seed collected in South Korean in 1976 by Robert and Jelena de Belder [Arboretum Kalmthout] and Sir Harold and Lady Hillier," but then states, "No autumn color." Instead, Hillier promotes Q. dentata 'Sir Harold Hillier' as, "A tree of the same origin as 'Carl Ferris Miller' but with deep orange to pink autumn colour." You can see from my photos of 'Carl Ferris Miller' (above) that Hillier was drawing conclusions too quickly from limited observations. Remember – Ol' Hills and Ye other "experts" – that your "autumn colour" in England, or elsewhere, might never match that in Korea or in Oregon. The lesson is: Be very careful what you put into print, and that is also a constant reminder to me to not become too arrogant and "knowing."

Jelena de Belder

Arboretum Hemelrijk

**Furthermore, what is absolutely strange is for Hillier to suggest that Hemelrijk – where I have visited – is in The Netherlands, when it is positively located in Belgium. The Jelena de Belder in question was born (in 1925) to parents who were ethnically Slovene and some of the plants she raised were granted awards from England's RHS, such as Hamamelis x intermedia 'Diane'. Albert II of Belgium elevated her to Baroness for her contributions to dendrology. How could Hillier travel to Korea with the De Belders and not know what country they were from? Maybe they lied to keep him off track. It continues with Quercus ellipsoidalis 'Hemelrijk', described: "Named from a small tree at Hemelrijk, the Netherlands originally supplied by Hillier Nurseries."

Quercus dentata 'Pinnatifida'

A most interesting cultivar of Q. dentata is 'Pinnatifida', and surprisingly – according to Hillier – it has been around since 1879. The deeply-cut narrow lobes make it look less like an oak than some kelp-like creature from the ocean. The fun autumn color is apparent now in the greenhouses, and the leaves seem to hang on forever. The only problem with 'Pinnatifida' is that it has a poor shape with no two looking alike; either that, or this nurseryman hasn't figured out how to best grow it.

Quercus x 'Pondaim'

I mentioned in a previous blog that Oak-man, Dick van Hoey Smith of Arboretum Trompenburg, quickly declared when asked, that his favorite tree of all was Quercus pontica. Personally I prefer Q. dentata over Q. pontica, but a wonderful hybrid of the two species is Q. x 'Pondaim', and that was first raised by v. H. Smith about 1960. It is considered a Pondaim Group since there are several forms of the cross in cultivation, and one in England is marketed as 'Pondaim Giant'. Since I don't know, I hope someone in the readership can tell me the origin of the 'Pondaim' name. Sadly the hybrid is rare in America so I don't grow it, and the photo above was taken at Arboretum Trompenburg in Rotterdam.

Quercus macrolepis 'Hemelrijk Silver'

I was given a start of Quercus macrolepis 'Hemelrijk Silver' a year ago by Roger of Gossler Farms Nursery. He is always bringing me something new and I, sadly, lag behind in reciprocation. Of course it is another De Belder plant, in this case grown from seed collected on the island of Rhodes. Thankfully, this time Hillier doesn't say in which country the De Belders have their arboretum. But news to me is a specific name change: from macrolepis to ithaburensis subsp. macrolepis. It is commonly called the "Valonia oak," with the name derived from Italian vallonea, and that from Greek balanidia, diminutive of balanos for "acorn," and the dried acorn cups were/are used in tanning or dressing leather. The species has a wide range in southeastern Europe and southwestern Asia and it is the national tree of Jordan. The oak is mentioned in the Bible (First Samuel 10) and is known as the "Tabor oak," where Saul met an Israelite who gave him two out of three loaves of bread per Samuel's prophecy. The Hebrew name for oak is derived from the word "providence."

Quercus turbinella

Quercus turbinella, commonly known as the "Sonoran scrub oak," is native to the hellishly hot and dry areas of Baja California, Sonora, Arizona etc., yet it performs admirably well in the wet climate at Flora Farm. My first specimen originated as a seedling, while subsequent propagules are rooted as summer cuttings under mist. In its native haunts it grows scrubily, but in my garden I have a neat, small upright tree. The small evergreen leaves are leathery in texture and are also spine-tipped, so it would be possible to misidentify it as a holly (Ilex). For some reason Hillier doesn't list it – perhaps he considers it a form or subspecies of a different species. It can hybridize with other oak species, and I've read – but never have seen – the cross with the huge Quercus lobata. That's hard to imagine, and it reminds me of the nursery ditty where skinny Jack Sprat could eat no fat, while his hefty wife could eat no lean...Anyway, it received its specific name due to a gray cap at the top of the acorn that resembles a turban, so originally I incorrectly concluded that the turbinella species was from Turkey.

Quercus vaccinifolia

Picea breweriana
While Quercus turbinella can resemble a holly, Quercus vaccinifolia can look like a Vaccinium, and indeed it is commonly called the "Huckleberry oak." It too comes from dry areas of California, Oregon and Nevada and grows low and shrubby on slopes and ridges and sub-alpine forests. Its acorns are said to be very bitter but I've never nibbled on one. The American black bear will eat them though, and I know that first hand when I stumbled (way too close) to a bear on a Castle Crags trail in northern California while I was photographing a Picea breweriana near Mt. Shasta. Q. vaccinifolia is said to grow to less than 5' tall, but in my lush Quercus section at Flora Farm, one quickly grew to 10' tall and 10' wide, and I finally had to remove it because it pushed into the road. I didn't particularly like the evergreen bush anyway – it was a dense blob of gray-green that looked out of place in my landscape.

Quercus suber

We'll see if my "Cork oak," Quercus suber, will survive a cold winter. The species is native to southern Europe and North Africa, and though a couple of mature specimens can be found in nearby Portland, Oregon, it is generally 5-10 degrees warmer there. It never gets as cold in England either, and Hillier states, "Though very frost-resistant, it is not satisfactory in the coldest counties." I've had my 10' sapling in the ground for 5 years now, and often if you can establish a tree of questionable hardiness for a few years it can continue to beat the odds. Besides, my tree is of seedling origin, and like with people, some are just more tough than others. Anyway, Q. suber's fame is for its thick, corky bark which continues to be used for wine stoppers. Appropriately, the largest specimen in America is probably in Napa, California – wine country – and is over 90' tall. Contenders include some (photographed above) at the San Diego Botanic Garden.

Quercus x hispanica 'Luscombeana'

More suitable for Oregon – though not quite as corky – is Quercus x hispanica which is a hybrid of the "Turkish oak" (Q. cerris) with Q. suber. I have seen an impressive specimen at Arboretum Kalmthout in Belgium of the cultivar 'Luscombeana' which was raised by Mr. Luscombe in his English nursery as far back as 1762. The evergreen tree's gray-green foliage is not particularly attractive, and the hybrid would never be grown if it were not for the fascinating bark.

Quercus cerris 'Variegata'

Quercus cerris is hardy to USDA zone 6 (-10 degrees), but I don't have any interest in the large-growing species other than the beautiful cultivar 'Variegata' ('Argenteovariegata'), which I have not been able to acquire. In fact I've never seen it in America and the photo above was taken at the Arboretum Trompenburg. Their specimen was a spreading bush that made a cheerful presence in the always-raining Rotterdam garden. The specific name cerris was coined by Linnaeus and is Latin for a "curl" or "tuft" as in a tuft of hair.

Quercus robur 'Concordia'

Quercus robur 'Butterbee'

Quercus robur ("oak" + "strength, hard timber") is the common oak, European oak or English oak,* and it is the "type" species for the genus whose name was coined by Linnaeus. In its native range it is valued – besides for timber – for its importance to insects and other wildlife; in fact Q. robur supports the highest biodiversity of insect herbivores of any British plant. I don't grow the straight species – why would I when we have so many other handsome American species? But I do appreciate some English oak cultivars such as the lovely golden form known as 'Concordia'. It can withstand full sun when established, and though not so common in horticulture, it was first raised by Van Geert's nursery in Ghent, Belgium in 1843. I don't know why it is not more popular. Also, we have an excellent golden selection – 'Butterbee' – that arose as a random seedling at Buchholz Nursery about 25 years ago. Sloppily, website lists it as Quercus robur 'Bumblebee'.

*Some modern scholars agree with Classical Greek and Roman authors that the word for Druid is that for the word "oak," and can mean "One with knowledge of the oak" or "Wise person of the oak;" in other words: a Forest Sage.

Quercus robur 'General Pulaski'

Casimir Pulaski
Another cultivar of Quercus robur that I grow is not a thing of beauty, but I guess I collected 'General Pulaski' because it's so bizarre – in fact, you're not sure that it is even an oak to begin with. It grows with a narrow upright form and is distinguished – or undistinguished – by small, puckered blue-green leaves. It is not common in the trade because 1) it is ugly and 2) at least for me, not easy to propagate for those who like ugly trees. The oak was named for General Casimir Pulaski, an American patriot of Polish origin who fought in the American Revolutionary War. He was born in 1745 in Warsaw and died in Savannah in 1779 – a mere 34 years – and was known as the "Father of the American Cavalry."* There is even a General Pulaski Memorial Day held every year on October 11, and President George W. Bush issued a presidential proclamation the day before for Americans to honor the Pole. Of course, Bush was after the Polish vote in Illinois at the time.

*Casimir wasn't so good at cavalry, however, for he died from wounds received during the Siege of Savannah which the Americans lost.

Quercus robur 'Purpurea'

I'm proud of my specimen of Quercus robur 'Purpurea' which is about 16' tall by 20' wide. Leaves emerge in spring with a rich Bloodgood-purple, but a greenish hue develops when we reach the hot summer temperatures. The RHS lists 'Purpurea' as a valid name, but awkwardly Hillier goes with 'Atropurpurea'. Another English oak is Quercus petraea, the "Sessile oak," and it has a 'Purpurea' cultivar as well. I guess the conclusion is that I don't know my oaks so well, to know if my species is robur or petraea, but I've been selling it as robur with no controversy for at least 30 years. Presumably, because of its Latin name, 'Purpurea' was selected before the 1950's.

Quercus rubra

Quercus rubra 'Greg's Variegated'
Quercus rubra 'Greg's Variegated'
Not to be confused with Quercus robur is Q. rubra, the "Red or Scarlet" oak from eastern North America. I don't grow the straight species, only the splashy Q. r. 'Greg's Variegated', but I can point to some huge specimens of Q. rubra in nearby Portland, Oregon. I can stand under the canopies or cross the street to stare at the monsters, and the neighborhood women can relax that I'm just an old harmless tree guy...and sometimes they'll even come out of their houses to chat about their tree. That's the best way to "own" a Red oak – for just 10 minutes at a time – then leave to the homeowners the gargantuan task of raking the leaves and cleaning the gutters.

The way we experience the world around us is a direct reflection of the world within us, it has been said, but my world with the oaks has been most formative.