The essence of horticulture is the human whim to tend and
nurture Flora's freaks, the plants which are abnormal. I have made a living
from this geeky trade of managing the mutants, and in my world the dwarf, the
weeping, the extra-narrow, the variegated etc. are what I water and prune every
day. An outdoorsy-type man once visited the nursery, and afterwards declared that
the experience was like attending a freak show, for he "never did
encounter one normal tree." Well, there are many here; I could point out
dozens, but I get his point. Mr. Outdoors would be even further baffled had he
realized that 99% of my nursery is exotic, with the hundreds of species coming
from elsewhere on earth. My floral collection and the business of growing and
selling abnormal trees is certainly a strange pursuit, from some points of
view, but I'm still capable of supposing that I make the world a better place,
or at least more beautiful.
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Abies koreana |
Abies koreana 'Silberlocke'
Abies koreana 'Silberlocke'
Let's investigate this zany company then, and with only one
step into the garden we are already into the land of the weird. The
"Korean Fir," Abies koreana is an excellent slow-growing species with
fresh green needles. The undersides of the needles, however, flash with
silver-white due to the stomatal bands. The late Gunter Horstmann from
Schneverdingen, Germany discovered a freak where the needles wrap around the
stems, and he named it 'Horstmann's Silberlocke' (now just 'Silberlocke'). At
one point, early in my career, 'Silberlocke' was the most sought-after conifer
of all, and I made gobs of money by rooting and grafting thousands.
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Abies koreana 'Ice Breaker' |
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Abies koreana 'Ice Breaker' |
We eventually learned that 'Silberlockes' weren't as dwarf
as we first imagined. Also that they could lose their curl if planted in too
much shade. And finally, that they weren't so easy to sell when everyone was
growing them, as they are quite easy to propagate. We still sell a few,
especially when we allow them to grow to a large size. The recent discovery of
a congested witch's broom in a 'Silberlocke', by G. Kohout of East Germany, has
set the conifer world on fire again, and everyone who sees his Abies koreana
'Ice Breaker' wants to have one. Thus far our plants remain low and spreading
and are very dense. The silver needles are even more intense than on
'Silberlocke', in part because you always look down upon 'Ice Breaker', and the
plant reveals more dazzling curled stems per area than any other conifer I
think. I planted a mound with seven 'Ice Breakers', with about two feet of
space between. I look forward to the day when they grow together and form the
largest-looking 'Ice Breaker' on earth. I must confess that no one should be growing it at all, for Abies
are prohibited to enter the United States from Europe. But I'll continue to
propagate my contraband, as my start
came from an East-Coast collector. Certainly someday I will back off 'Ice
Breaker', for eventually it will become plentiful, and perhaps troubled or
bankrupt nurseries will be offering them at a loss, like they are doing with
other plants today.
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Abies concolor 'Wintergold' |

Abies concolor 'Wintergold'
Close to the 'Ice Breakers' is a dense nine-foot pyramidal
specimen of Abies concolor 'Wintergold', and the cultivar name reveals why it
is nature's abnormality, for the species is usually blue-green (and on some
occasions, intensely blue). I can see my 'Wintergold' from out the office
window, and from a distance it looks light-green today. By October the needles
begin to turn gold, and by mid-winter it is a fantastic light-show in the
landscape. For us 'Wintergold' does not burn, or have other issues in full sun
and we find it to be rather easy to grow, albeit slow. Thirty steps from my
pyramidal specimen is another of the same age (16 years) except that it has a
spreading form, and is now 3' tall by 8' wide. The pyramidal tree assumed its
leader without any staking by me, while the flat one has always been that way.
I like them both, but our current growing practice is to stake. Generally
speaking, taller is worth more than wide.
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Chamaecyparis obtusa 'Green Cushion' |
In the same area is a grouping of miniatures, Chamaecyparis
obtusa 'Green Cushion', with dense bun shapes and foliage of incredibly
rich-green color. I don't know the origin of 'Green Cushion', but I like the
name. There are many similar hinoki buns, such as 'Stoneham', 'Hage',
'Leprechaun', 'Juniperoides', 'Nana (True)', 'Densa', and probably many more.
You usually need about twenty years to tell them apart, so don't be casual with
the labeling at any point. Their differences will be subtle at best, but
remember that all plants of each cultivar vary to some degree too, even if
cuttings are all taken off the same mother plant. That's why I love the
Chamaecyparis obtusas, because a lot of variation can occur, with some of it
good, and some of it bad. My affair with hinokies is a lot like that of living
with a woman from day to day, or from moment to moment actually.

Thuja orientalis 'Franky Boy'
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Thuja orientalis 'Balaton' at Arboretum Trompenburg |
In the same garden as those mentioned above is Thuja
orientalis 'Franky Boy'. I first saw the plant in Deurne, Holland at the Nelis
Kools Nursery, but I don't know if it is of Dutch origin, or even who
"Franky Boy" is. It is a cheerful selection with a plump upright
shape, and the pretty foliage is yellow-green in spring and summer, then
bronze-orange in winter. Interestingly, the fine thread-like shoots ascend;
well, at least until a record snow storm occurs. 'Franky Boy' reminds me of a
plant that we used to grow many years ago, Thuja occidentalis 'Filiformis',
which we purchased originally from Monrovia Nursery. Besides not looking as
good as 'Franky Boy', 'Filiformis' was never a Thuja occidentalis anyway, which
I could prove when an orientalis cone appeared. I informed Monrovia, and the
company horticulturalist insisted that it must be an occidentalis because it
proved hardy in areas that only an occidentalis could. End of discussion. So
even "horticultural craftsmen" for over 100 years will knowingly
slime on the botanical facts in their grab for the dollar. Think about that
when you're in Box-store-Lowe's garden center next time. There does exist a
Thuja occidentalis 'Filifera' – not 'Filiformis' – that I also used to grow,
but that's not what Monrovia was peddling. I looked to Krussmann in Manual
of Cultivated Conifers for clarification, but came away even more confused
with the old Euro information, but he did explain that it's not uncommon to
find thread-leaf forms in Thuja seedbeds. I remember seeing a Thuja orientalis
'Balaton' at the Arboretum Trompenburg in Rotterdam, which I think was about
ten feet tall with drooping green threads
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Thuja plicata 'Filifera Nana' in summer |
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Thuja plicata 'Filifera Nana' in winter |
And, speaking of drooping threads, the Thuja plicata species
has a couple of similar cultivars. We used to grow Thuja plicata 'Filifera
Nana' which originated as a witch's broom mutation in British Columbia. My
oldest in the Blue Forest is now about 38 years old, and I've seen one even
older at the University of British Columbia Botanical Garden. A creased-slacks
and loafer administrator (I think he was) was leading a Conifer Society tour
about twenty years ago, and he pronounced the label-less plant to be Thuja occidentalis
'Filifera Nana', "which originated in B.C." I said that I thought it
was actually a plicata, but "No, it's an occidentalis." Occidentalis
means "west," and after all Thuja plicata is the "Western Red
Cedar." There you go.

Thuja plicata 'Whipcord'
I don't want to come across as a know-it-all, for I have
been wrong many times too, and it is usually wise to adopt a self-deprecating
attitude about yourself and what you think you know. In hindsight the arboretum
expert, who was not, does not matter anyway. We no longer propagate Thuja
plicata 'Filifera Nana', and leave the old specimen – about 5' tall by 12' wide
– to the squirrels who live beneath. Instead we currently grow Thuja plicata
'Whipcord', and I think that overall it is a much better selection. 'Whipcord'
makes a neater mound and the foliage is darker green than 'Filifera Nana'.
Besides I weary of all the Latin cultivar names, which were supposed to have
ended in the 1950's. I have seen the original seedling of 'Whipcord' at Drakes
Crossing Nursery in Oregon, and while the selection makes attractive container
and garden plants, the original is large and rangy and not attractive at all.
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Acer palmatum 'Hupp's Dwarf' |

Acer palmatum 'Hupp's Dwarf'
At the same Drakes Crossing Nursery a tiny maple seedling
was discovered and eventually named for the owners as Acer palmatum 'Hupp's
Dwarf'. It is green and stocky and makes a perfect rock garden or bonsai subject.
One suspects that without the nurturing hand of horticulture, these types of
seedling freaks would die on their own...naturally. But when you graft onto
vigorous rootstock, 'Hupp's Dwarf' will grow to about 2' tall and wide in 10
years. It will also root reasonably well, and occasionally we offer them in our
QT pot program. They are clearly a loss leader for us when grown on their own
roots, but they sure look nice that way. Also, while I'm on the subject of a
Hupp plant, I'll say again that Acer palmatum 'Hupp's Red Willow' is incorrect,
and has absolutely nothing to do with the Hupps' Drakes Crossing Nursery. That
maple should be 'Hubbs Red Willow', dammit, in spite of the Vertrees/Gregory Japanese
Maple Hupps listing, and was
named after Elwood Hubbs of Riverton, New Jersey, and introduced by Red Maple
Nursery in Pennsylvania.
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Picea glauca 'Daisy's White' |

Picea glauca 'Daisy's White'
We were one of the first companies in America to grow Picea
glauca Daisy's White, a (spring) cream white mutant that originated on a Picea
glauca 'Albertiana Conica', the common "Dwarf Alberta Spruce."
'Daisy's White' was found in Belgium and was originally known as 'J.W. Daisy's
White' for Mr. Jeurissen-Wijnen, and named for his granddaughter,
but thankfully the J.W. part of the name was dropped. I especially like the
description of 'Daisy's White' given in the Dutch Conifer Society's publication
of Promising Conifers, Part I, "This newcomer is a spectacular gain
in the coniferous sector." Also that "This pearl should be placed
somewhere in the half-shadow." I don't know, for I grow some in the garden
in full sun, and no Dutch nurseryman has ever experienced the Oregon kind of
heat and light in summer.

Picea glauca 'Rita'
I found a similar mutation as well years ago before I had
'Daisy's White', and planted the 99% green tree in our conifer field. I wanted
the white part to develop before I would try some cuttings. Three years later
the white had totally disappeared, or was swallowed up by the green. I suppose
Picea glauca 'Rita' originated as a mutation, and is nearly as colorful as
'Daisy's White', although growing more narrow for us. Note in one of the photos
above of 'Rita' that the left side is facing south, and the cream white
develops on this sunny side a week before the north side. I pity owners of
nurseries who spend the vast majority of their time in an office with clean
hands, as they often miss the little idiosyncrasies of nature.
Acer palmatum 'Bihou'
Acer palmatum 'Bihou'
Acer palmatum 'Bihou' (pronounced Bee Ho) is a fun little
tree with yellow-green leaves in spring and summer, then turns to shocking
yellow in autumn. The name means "beautiful mountain range" in
Japanese, but for reasons I can't fathom. The "fun" thing about
'Bihou' is that the bark changes to yellow-orange in winter, and the stems look
like sticks on fire. Because it forms a small tree, there is a perception that
'Bihou' is slow-growing, but we find the opposite to be true. Those gardening
in USDA zone 5 or colder will want to try 'Bihou' because it is so unique, but
just how cold hardy it is I don't know. So often it's not a matter of how cold
it got, but rather how it got cold. But I have a large 12' tree in the
landscape that has happily survived our zone 7 winters, for what that's worth.
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Abies procera 'Glauca Prostrata' |
I'll mention one last tree, mainly because I'm staring at it
out the office window: Abies procera 'Glauca Prostrata'. My start came from an
old Dutch nurseryman's garden, and he was amused that I thought I could grow
and sell anything like it. His specimen was less than a foot tall by ten feet wide,
and he explained that over time it had never once tried to form a leader. There
were no ascending shoots, so I gathered my scionwood from horizontal pieces at
ground level. A few years later a vigorous leader shot upwards, and it has
continued its ascension for nearly thirty years. It is absolutely beautiful,
and easily could become the national Christmas tree. Finally I changed the
label to Abies procera 'Glauca' because visitors would chortle over my
mis-named cultivar.
All of the plants described in this blog are aberrations,
and I like them all. They all reside in the original Display Garden which is
only a quarter acre, and they are joined by hundreds of other freaks as well.
What a way to spend a life!
I am happy Talon that you enjoy my diversity,
but stop calling my plants "freaks."
Freak indeed! I have never seen cones and leaves of these plants before. It must have been an amazing to see the plant closeup. I wish I am there Talon Buchholz! Cheers, Stephanie
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