Buchholz Plant Introductions (Part 20)

Picea abies 'Wartburg'

In early spring 1981 I purchased a few thousand bareroot seedlings of “Norway spruce” (Picea abies) and they were potted into 4” plastic containers to be used as rootstock for grafting blue forms of Picea pungens, weeping and dwarf Norways etc. Picture a much younger Buchholz potting into the night after returning from a 10 hour day toiling at the Dutchman's nursery. I couldn't afford employees then, so instead of lounging in front of the TV after dinner I would go out and shovel potting soil onto a 4x8 sheet of plywood and get the job done with a headlamp. That was when I truly learned about work speed, about what was possible to accomplish because I wouldn't allow myself to quit for the night until 400-500 were behind me. Twenty years after that I was informed by a middle-aged office female that I “simply expect too much from my employees.” I countered with, “Well, not the ones who want to make more money,” and quite soon she became an ex-employee.

Picea omorika 'Pendula Bruns'

The night shift continued for me for at least a decade, but when it came time to graft my Picea rootstocks, I could at least retreat into the back end of a warm, dry greenhouse. But still the mantra remained...that I couldn't go to bed until so many grafts were accomplished. One's mind enters into a Zen-like state where the grafting knife, the rubber band, and the scionwood and rootstock all blend into an effortless motion. What occurs is not really work; you're just arranging plant parts, and like with religion you need a dose of faith to accompany the process.

Picea abies 'Gold Dust'

Picea abies 'Gold Dust'

I remember one grafting evening when I pulled from a flat an off-color Picea rootstock where the base of the shoot was blue-green, as was the terminal needles, but the middle portion was an unusual cream-yellow. Not wanting to waste my precious scion on a questionable rootstock I tossed the seedling into the trash bucket. The following morning I went into the greenhouse to put the grafts away and to clean the area, and there sat my rejected rootstock atop a container full of garbage. Somehow I felt compelled to rescue the spruce, because other than the yellowish needles, the seedling itself looked...I don't know, somewhat interesting. Eventually my salvaged tree was named Picea abies 'Gold Dust', and I planted three offspring in a row in our Conifer Field. I reasoned that just one tree would look sickly, but if three were planted together, it would look like they were supposed to look that way. A few years later conifer expert Don Howse of Porterhowse Farms expressed interest in my sicklings, that he thought 'Gold Dust' was worthy of cultivar status. We sold a small number of them for about two decades but it is no longer in production. Today one tree broods by itself in the Conifer Field, about 10' tall at 40 years of age, but I'm the only employee at the nursery who cares about its story, let alone knows where it exists.

Symphoricarpos albus

Polystichum munitum

I have driven a half dozen times from my Oregon nursery, up through the entirety of Washington...and then finally into the Vancouver suburbs in British Columbia, Canada. For the most part the six-hour journey is a non-event, at least horticulturally speaking, because the climate and soils don't experience much difference in the two countries. If it's raining in Vancouver, BC, it is probably doing so in Seattle and Portland, and the entire West Coastal zone shares floral commonality with the over-story of “Douglas fir,” Pseudotsuga menziesii and the “Big-Leaf maple,” Acer macrophyllum, as well as a plethora of understory brush such as the “Snowberry,” Symphoricarpos albus and the “Pacific Sword fern,” Polystichum munitum.

Picea omorika

The first time I entered Vancouver by car I noticed a preponderance of Picea omorika (“Serbian spruce”) used in landscapes, where you seldom find it used in Oregon and Washington. And why not? – the spruce adapts well in the Northwest; the medium-sized conifer is narrow with drooping branches which turn upward at the tips, and in that regard it reminds me of Tsuga mertensiana, as both species resemble a ballerina (see Buchholz Plant Introductions (Part 18)). Picea omorika grows well at the Flora Wonder Arboretum, and we have a dozen-or-so cultivars as proof, but it's odd that American landscapes are sparse with the straight species, while the Canadians better recognize its virtues eh? The generic name Picea is derived from Latin pix in reference to its “pitchy” bark while the specific epithet omorika is the Serbian name for “spruce.”

Picea omorika 'Blue Sky'

Picea omorika 'Blue Sky'

In the mid 1980's I was visiting Green Thumb Nursery located at the southeast end of Vancouver Island, just outside of the pleasant town of Nanaimo. The owner passed away long ago but the nursery continues and I would love to check it out again. The purpose of my initial trip was to buy stock plants of conifers to add to my fledgling nursery, and the German owner took a liking to me, no doubt due to our shared Teutonic origin and he allowed me free reign to his plants. I bought ten Picea omorika which I could flag myself, and I chose one that was more blue than the others. It looked to be accurate as a Picea omorika, but I wondered if the owner would allow me to take the one blue tree. He said nothing so I loaded it up and sped to the agriculture inspection station, proud that I was able to cream the crop. Later, when I began propagating from the blue seedling I named it 'Blue Sky'. One problem with the species, however, is that when you propagate by using vigorous Picea abies rootstock, the tree does not begin with a slender habit, not nearly as skinny as it will eventually look. That makes potential customers nervous that it is not suitable for smaller landscapes. Still I think 'Blue Sky' is attractive and useful, but I confess that sales were never strong.

Sciadopitys verticillata 'Mr. Happy'

Sciadopitys verticillata 'Mr. Happy'

Sciadopitys verticillata 'Mr. Happy'

At the beginning of my career we grew Sciadopitys from seed, and though it was a long, tedious project with overwatering a constant concern, in 5-6 years we could achieve a small one-gallon pot. One of the seedlings produced yellow variegated needles, sometimes solid – not good due to sun scorch – but it was best when the foliage was half-and-half. I named the treasure 'Mr. Happy' and grafts were first sold in about 1998. I have a love/hate relationship with “Umbrella pine”: I love that they're an easy sell, but I hate that in our greenhouse environment with overhead irrigation, water can remain for days in the cup of the needle-whorl and rot the growth bud. Another problem was that the older 'Mr. Happy' could revert to green, all or in significant part, and ten years later you had a tree that was barely 'Mr. Happy'. I finally threw in the towel, and though a couple of trees are still at the nursery, we discontinued propagation about 6 or 7 years ago.

Sciadopitys verticillata 'Fatso'

Sciadopitys verticillata 'Fatso'

Another Sciadopitys seedling from a later batch was remarkably slow-growing, and the photo of it in a cedar box (above) drew a lot of attention from customers when it was 12-15 years old. We tried for a few years to propagate via rooted-cutting in winter, but our percentages were poor at 20% or less. I tired of these results so we began to graft it instead, and that's when I christened it 'Fatso'. I learned to my dismay that a grafted 'Fatso' wasn't so slow and dwarf after all, for it grew like the type. We discontinued production about 12 years ago and sold all of our crops; the original seedling was planted into the Display Garden, and at this time it appears as any normal Sciadopitys seedling. The “introduction” was a mistake in hindsight, and now I fear for the original as it was planted close to the office, but under a power line, and every couple of years we'll have to top it.

Pinus thunbergii 'Buki Broom'

Pinus thunbergii 'Buki Broom'

Buchholz Nursery has produced a fair number of Pinus thunbergii 'Kotobuki', and the cultivar is easily propagated by grafting onto “Scot's pine,” Pinus sylvestris. The cultivar name is Japanese for “celebration,” and according to the RHS Encyclopedia of Conifers “it originated in Japan before 1976.” About 2018 I noticed that one of our six-foot narrow stock trees developed a congested mutation at its top. I decided to propagate from the mutation/broom – whatever it was – and I labelled it 'Buki Broom' to keep track of its heritage. I have given away a couple of the grafts so it has been by definition “introduced,” but since the propagules are only about basketball size, in a greenhouse, I don't know yet what its future will be as a worthy landscape plant. The world doesn't need another green, ordinary pine-ball, that's for sure.

Pinus mugo 'Mini Mini'

Pinus mugo 'Mini Mini'

Another pine introduction is Pinus mugo 'Mini Mini' which resulted as a witch's broom mutation on the already-slow Pinus mugo 'Mops'. Its diminutive shoots are usually less than a half-inch long, and you work hard to find straight stems of two or three-year-old wood to graft. 'Mini Mini' was first sold in about 1998, and my oldest tree from that crop is a squat, impenetrable globe about 24”(61 cm) wide. A cute plant for sure, but no profit for the nurseryman. However, any plants person intrigued with its continuation need only to ask for scionwood.

Pseudotsuga menziesii 'Green Barrel'

Pseudotsuga menziesii 'Green Barrel'

Pseudotsuga menziesii 'Green Barrel' originated as a witch's broom and when it was gifted to me at a small size I can't say that I was overjoyed. Yet another green blob in the garden. But as it increased in size I grew to like it, especially the perky brown buds that poke out from the light green needles. We sold grafts of it for a couple of years in about 2012 but it is no longer in production. 'Green Barrel' grows fine in our USDA zone 7, but since it originated in our relatively benign Willamette Valley climate, it is doubtfully hardy in more harsh areas.

Cedrus deodara 'Vaneta'

Cedrus deodara 'Vaneta' is a prostrate dwarf that also originated as a witch's broom mutation. Scionwood was given to me by a friend of Vaneta who (the friend) went by the name of “Shorty.” Since Vaneta found the broom, if I have the story straight, I gave it her name in honor although I never met the woman. Sadly 'Vaneta' is of weak constitution – the cedar not the lady – and our original start fried and died in our 116 F heat dome of June 28, 2021. Mr. Shorty was indeed short, but he was sharp and snappy as a retired owner of a successful retail garden center, and he was a genuine lover of plants. With his horticultural background I was surprised that he referred to the “witch's broom” as a “witch's brood,” and he did so at least three times while he was describing it. Who knows, maybe brood/broom are synonyms?

Sequoiadendron giganteum 'Shorty's Blue'

Sequioadendron giganteum 'Shorty's Blue'

Sequoiadendron giganteum 'Lacy Blue'

Sequoiadendron giganteum 'Lacy Blue'

Sequoiadendron giganteum 'Exceptionally Blue'

Sequoiadendron giganteum 'Exceptionally Blue'

Mr. Shorty was greatly impressed with “Giant redwoods,” and he housed a collection of blue seedlings on various properties, or at least he knew where the bluest could be found. He knew that I too admired all cultivars of Sequoiadendron giganteum, and I appreciated that he was generous with the scionwood. Eventually three of Shorty's findlings were named and propagated: 'Shorty's Blue', 'Lacy Blue' and 'Exceptionally Blue'. All three specimens stoutly thrive in our Conifer Field where they display the same degree of blueness more or less. Yes, 'Lacy Blue' features foliage more fine than the others. 'Shorty's Blue' is not short, it's as tall as the others. Mr. Shorty's favorite was named by me as 'Exceptionally Blue' because he constantly referred to it as such, and he did so with great enthusiasm. As far as the degree of blueness is concerned, all seedlings can genetically vary of course, but I suppose that different soils and moistures and other cultural factors can also influence the color. That might explain why Shorty's favorite blue, 'Exceptionally Blue', looks about the same as the others, at least in my one field, while it might be more vibrant elsewhere.

Sequoiadendron giganteum 'John Muir'

Sequoiadendron giganteum 'John Muir'

The last introduction that I'll discuss in this blog is Sequoiadendron giganteum 'John Muir', in fact it is the last in this entire Buchholz Plant Introduction series. I copy partially from my June 21, 2019 blog, Half-Baked Spud:

The woods lining the Boise River gave French-Canadian trappers solace after they trudged across arid lands. They named the area Boise meaning “wooded” and today it is known as “The City of Trees.” The developed parks, paths and green spaces are as impressive as in any city in America.

My purpose in Boise was to see the state's largest “Giant redwood,” Sequoiadendron giganteum, which was recently moved two blocks away due to a hospital expansion plan. A year ago when I heard about the move I instantly criticized that the hospital should expand elsewhere since it was a seedling given in 1912 by Scottish naturalist John Muir, the founder of the Sierra Club. It would have been cheaper to cut the tree down but the hospital feared a public outcry, so a Texas-based company that specialized in moving big trees was enlisted; this would be their largest move ever, but for $300,000 they were happy to take on the project. A company spokesman estimated the total weight with roots and soil to be 800,000 pounds, nevertheless he put the chances of the tree's survival at 95%. I would have guessed closer to 50%, but I'm not the expert. He explained that “Sequoias in their native habitat in California draw moisture from the misty atmosphere and can live for several thousand years...” Obviously his assertion was flawed because he was talking about the “Coast redwoods,” Sequoia sempervirens, not the “Giant redwoods” from the western slopes of the Sierras. But...he was the expert.

To everyone's relief (including mine) the tree has survived. It will never grow as large in the drier, colder climate of Boise than those in my hometown of Forest Grove, Oregon, but when my daughter drove me to the site I had to tip my hat to the tree-movers. Its unusual top was due to damage from Christmas decorations in the 1980s, tree abuse certainly. A wood fence surrounds the redwood to keep people from trampling at its base, but when no one was looking I collected a few cones and hope to germinate the seed. If successful I'll have an indirect connection to Muir who packed the seedlings* himself; of course I like that thought, and I will coin its name Sequoiadendron giganteum 'John Muir'.

*Four seedlings were given to Emile Grandjean, an employee of the US Forest Service, but two were cut down and the third's demise is unaccounted for. So, the “moved tree” has added historical significance.

I continued with the saga of the Muir redwood in January 29, 2021:

John Muir

Regular Flora Wonder Blog readers might remember that I posted a blog a few years ago about a “Giant redwood,” a Sequoiadendron giganteum seedling that was gifted to the city forester of Boise, Idaho over 100 years ago by the remarkable John Muir. The historic tree was to undergo a transplant to a different city property to make way for a hospital expansion. I was 100% opposed to the project, concluding that the hospital could certainly expand elsewhere; and above all: save, protect and cherish the historic tree. Of course nobody listened to me and the tree was moved...and thank God it survived the ordeal. My eldest daughter works for the city of Boise in their parks and recreation department. Sonya led me to the redwood and I pocketed a few cones and we germinated a number of seedlings...which I have named 'EX* John Muir'. These saplings I will donate to anyone who cares, and I hope that the City of Boise would want to be one recipient. Plant it near to the mother tree with a plaque that tells its story, wouldn't that be wonderful!

*Note that 'EX John Muir' denotes a seedling offspring of the tree, which by botanical definition can never be the same as the mother tree, just as my wife's children will always be somewhat different than Mama herself. One 'EX John Muir' seedling has been given to Paul Warnick at the University of Idaho Arboretum in Moscow, Idaho, so from that point of view it has been “introduced,” and I still await anyone else who cares to plant one.

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Epilogue

I was very fortunate that I could fashion a career out of horticulture, and despite the hard work and constant worry I was able to introduce a couple hundred cultivars into American landscapes. Well, they are also being grown in Europe and Japan. None of it would have been possible without the generosity and support of other plants people, the dedicated efforts of many employees, and most important, the encouragement of my wife Haruko. The Flora Wonder Arboretum of Buchholz Nursery is like no other place on earth, and we have enthusiastically grown plants from all seven continents. I have always endeavored to make the collection fun and interesting, and above all, educational with correct nomenclature, all in addition to feeding many families.

Patrick Franklin (left) and Robert Bartlett (right) of Bartlett Tree Experts

Haruko and Talon with Tim, Matt and Aimee Nichols of MrMaple

In the past year or two I have sold and handed-off ownership of my two properties: Flora Farm went to the internationally famous Bartlett Tree Experts, and the Buchholz Nursery was acquired by the equally accomplished MrMaple Company of North Carolina. The sale to the new owners allows me to further my journey, my calling to study and appreciate plants...without the attachments. I look forward to getting closer to my muse, Flora.