Out Into the Real World

Flora Farm

Every year we harvest trees from the Upper Gardens at Flora Farm, some quite sizable. That leaves big craters until we get around to filling them with topsoil, which we are doing today with our sunny weather. Other gaps in our planting occur when a tree dies, or when I get sick of looking at another because it is continuously struggling. Replacements are selected by me, and the criteria is that I want a tree or shrub out of the nursery where it is often coddled, and put into the “real world,” in real soil...for better or for worse.

Acer buergerianum 'Michael Steinhardt'

Acer buergerianum 'Michael Steinhardt'

A golden Acer buergerianum, named 'Michael Steinhardt', was given to me about 7 years ago, and now we are propagating and growing a crop in the greenhouse. They are not as golden inside under white poly, but they are so happy with our container culture that 5' shoots can develop. It was Don Shadow, the noted southern plantsman who gifted me the tree, and the original mother plant is growing in full sun at his home in southern Tennessee. I saw it in May and it looked brilliant, and Shadow claims that it never burns, even with the heat of August. We'll find out how it fares in Oregon sun, the main difference being that we have no humidity when we reach 100F and Tennessee's air veritably drips with water then. The cultivar name honors Michael Steinhardt, a New York city financier who owns an arboretum/zoo (Iroki) near Mount Kisco, New York.

Acer palmatum 'Golden Falls'

Acer palmatum 'Golden Falls'

Another seedling selection that will make its debut out in the real elements is Acer palmatum 'Golden Falls'. As with the 'Michael Steinhardt', 'Golden Falls' loves our greenhouses, but I anticipate that its foliage will be more bright outdoors. Or, it might burn to a crisp, and since it is my introduction – and I'm already selling them – it's about time that I find out. The seed source was Acer palmatum 'Ryu sei' where about 25% of the seedlings resembled the mother's decidedly weeping habit, except that all of the other seedlings were green.

Schizachyrium scoparium 'The Blues'

The grass, Schizachyrium scoparium 'The Blues', was given to me by a garden friend when he divided his clump, and for the past 3 years it has been hanging out in GH23. I don't anticipate ever propagating it, so it's yet another plant in the collection that makes me no money. The species is commonly called “Little Bluestem” and is native to prairies, open forests and roadsides in America's central states. I'm sure that it will color differently in full sun in dirt compared to the photo above of it in a pot in a white-poly house that is watered every day. The genus name is a mouthful, but it's from Latin schizein meaning “to split” and achyron meaning “chaff,” the dry husk or hull around the grain. The specific epithet scoparium means “broomlike,” and the early settlers probably did use the native weed to sweep their floors.

Yucca rostrata 'Sapphire Skies'

Yucca rostrata 'Sapphire Skies'

We used to buy liners of the patented Yucca rostrata 'Sapphire Skies', but that supplier inexplicably discontinued it, leaving me with just two plants, besides one other planted at the nursery. Since I don't have a “crop” anymore, the two remaining plants are slated for the Quercus (oak) section at Flora Farm. Yucca rostrata is the “Beaked yucca” and is native to Texas and the northern Mexican states of Chihuahua and Coahuila. 'Sapphire Skies' may eventually reach 12' tall, where the silver-blue leaves are mopped atop a single stem which is ornamentally clad with light-brown dead leaves below. Flowers are said to be white and attract hummingbirds, but my oldest has yet to bloom. The word “yucca” is from the Cariban language group from South America from the mouth of the Amazon to the Colombian Andes. There it is the name for Manihot which is commonly called cassava or yuca, and which is completely unrelated to the genus Yucca. The specific epithet rostrata means “curved” or “hooked” in reference to part of the flower, so I'm anxious to check that feature when my plant eventually blooms.

Spiraea morrisonicola

Spiraea morrisonicola

Spiraea morrisonicola

I'm not really a Spiraea guy, but we do propagate and sell S. morrisonicola which originates from elevation on Mt. Morrison in Taiwan. It is a small-growing deciduous species that's attractive in bud, then also when the pink and white flowers fully open. The green leaves of spring and summer change in fall to exciting hues of red and yellow which persist for a month it seems. It is a fun plant, but we planted one in a trough and it went to seed, and now the Spiraea dominates the other plants. The Spiraea Latin name was coined by Linnaeus but it comes from Greek speiraia which was a plant used for “garlands” or “wreaths” due to the showy flower clusters.

Magnolia wilsonii

E.H. Wilson

Another plant that went to Flora Farm to get grounded is Magnolia wilsonii, and yes, its name honors E.H. “Chinese” Wilson, the energetic English explorer/plant collector who introduced many hundreds of species from China into Western cultivation. The photo above of M. wilsonii is fraudulent in a sense, since I lifted the branch up with one hand while shuttering with the other because M. wilsonii's flowers tend to droop downward, and one really requires a mature specimen to evaluate, since you can then walk under the branches laden with blooms; and it's interesting that the closely-related Magnolia sieboldii from Japan presents you with the same dilemma. In The Hillier Manual of Trees and Shrubs (2019) we receive an adequate description of Magnolia wilsonii (in part): “In May and June bears pendent, saucer-shaped, white flowers with crimson stamens.” Thereafter we are swamped with details that only the cognoscenti could possibly follow:... “In 1981 the narrower-leaved form that was collected by [George] Forrest as M. taliensis W.W.Sm. was seen by the Sino British Expedition to the Cangshan in W Yunnan but it was too early for seed. Seeds of M. wilsonii, collected in 2018 by Mikinori Ogisu from W. Sichuan has germinated at the SHHG. FCC 1971. AM 1932. Trophy cup symbol H6.” I follow all the twists and turns with that description because I am familiar with plant introduction history, and with its cast of characters, but I don't imagine that Mr. George Perkins from Liverpool or Mrs. Betty Rose from a London suburb can decipher any of it, let alone Americans who happen to have purchased the Manual. And, if you go back to that description where “seeds has germinated,” you would probably want to improve it with: “seeds have germinated.”

Stewartia malacodendron 'Beni suji'

Stewartia malacodendron

Stewartia malacodendron

I have an old Stewartia malacodendron at Flora Farm and I prize it greatly, but I want to put another tree in just in case. I'll probably never harvest it because the southeastern USA native is considered difficult to transplant. My older specimen is shrubby and has a southward lean, and probably most in the wild are brushy and crooked as well, but the flowers in July-August, which Hillier describes as “white with purple stamens and bluish anthers,” are my favorite of the genus. The godfather of Japanese nurserymen, Akira Shibamichi, showed me a photo last fall of a S. malacodendron selection ('Beni suji') with streaked-red coloration in the white flower, and he grinned slyly, knowing that I would give anything to get my hands on it. The S. malacodendron is commonly called the “Silky Stewartia” due to the appearance and texture of the flowers, and Linnaeus coined the specific epithet which literally means “soft tree.” By the way, the tree that we will plant is one grafted onto S. pseudocamellia rootstock which is readily available in the trade. The graft union looks good at 5 years of age, but I have no clue about long-term compatibility...which is the point of planting it out.

Cercis canadensis 'Flame Thrower'

Cercis canadensis 'Flame Thrower'

Cercis canadensis 'Golden Falls'

Cercis canadensis 'Golden Falls'

We placed a new Cercis canadensis cultivar, 'Flame Thrower', at Flora Farm and I sited it close to the driveway which pleased my wife because she loves the multi colors. The Neubauers of Hidden Hollow Nursery in Tennessee describe it well in their catalog: “This newcomer boasts a riot of color throughout the season; early shades of burgundy transition to coppery yellow and finish the season with hints of purple.” They also reveal that it was developed by Dr. Dennis Werner and the JC Raulston Arboretum. Dr. Werner has been busy with breeding “redbuds,” with new – but patented – cultivars such as 'Pink Pom Poms' and the weeping selection 'Golden Falls'. I haven't tested 'Golden Falls' outside, but I wish they hadn't used the same name as my weeping Acer palmatum.

Crataegus monogyna 'Flexuosa'

Crataegus monogyna is the “Common hawthorn” and it is native to Europe, north Africa and western Asia, and according to Hillier it is “A familiar native, extensively planted as a hedge throughout the British Isles.” Also, “In autumn its branches are often laden with red fruits, haws;” and since the branches are armed with serious thorns, you can understand the common name of “hawthorn.” The name “haw” was originally an Old English term for hedge, from the Anglo-Saxon haguthorn meaning “a fence with thorns.” The etymology for the name Crataegus is less certain, but could possibly be from Greek kratos for “strength” and aigos, perhaps from Greek aigilops for the Turkey oak, Quercus cerris. The specific epithet monogyna sounds kind of like a condition that a woman could get, but instead refers to “single-seeded.” I collected a scion of the cultivar 'Flexuosa' many winters ago – when no one was looking – and it has been in a container for the past 20 years. I hide it in the back of the row because it always looks horrible until winter when the crappy leaves have fallen and you can appreciate the twisted corkscrew branches. Maybe my specimen resented container culture, but I'm willing to give it a few years in the Flora Farm dirt, and if it doesn't perk up I will edit it from the scape.

Franklinia alatamaha

John Bartram

Franklinia alatamaha is extinct in the wild (from the Alatamaha River Valley in Georgia) but nobody knows what happened. It has a small genetic base because all plants currently in existence come from the collection of the Bartram nurserymen of Philadelphia, PA. John Bartram (1699-1777) was a third-generation Quaker and a friend of Benjamin Franklin, hence the genus name. Bartram started his nursery in 1728 on 102 acres. He collected native plants throughout the colonies and many of the species were sold to the British aristocracy. By the middle of the 18^th century, Bartram's garden contained the most varied collection of North American plants in the world. After the American Revolution his sons John Bartram Jr. and William Bartram continued with the international trade and expanded the family's botanic garden (which you can visit today). I always assumed that the Franklinia collected by Bartram was the one and only time it was seen in the wild, but Hillier says it was “perhaps last seen in the wild by the American collector, Lyon, in 1803.” John Lyon (1765-1814) was a Scottish botanist and plant collector, not American, but he made his career in America, leaving Scotland for unknown reasons, but sadly he died during his last expedition at a young age.

Franklinia alatamaha 'Wintonbury'

Franklinia alatamaha 'Wintonbury'

We planted a Franklinia alatamaha 'Wintonbury' yesterday at Flora Farm. I originally collected this cultivar because its flower was said to be larger than the type, but it seems about the same to me. According to our customer at Broken Arrow Nursery, 'Wintonbury' is “A selection made by Mark Sutcliffe from one of the largest plants growing in Connecticut. Plants exhibit typical Franklinia characteristics but also offer improved cold hardiness and disease resistance.” I know that an old specimen of regular Franklinia survives at the Arnold Arboretum near Boston so it's odd that Hillier relates: “It does not flourish in the British Isles and benefits from some glass protection.”

Cornus kousa 'Scarlet Fire'

I'll try again at Flora Farm by planting another Cornus kousa 'Scarlet Fire'...in a different location than where the deer ravaged my first tree a month ago. The problem is that at the bottom of my Upper Gardens is a 50-tree apple orchard where the deer stuff themselves. On their way back up the hill they snacked on my dogwood for dessert. 'Scarlet Fire' is a beauty in bloom with large fuchsia-red bracts that appear on trees even when young. The foliage is clean and rich looking when not in flower, then in autumn you have red foliage and pinkish-red fruits. 'Scarlet Fire' is the trade name for the patented Rutpink which is from Rutgers University, their “first kousa introduction in 45 years of breeding.” We have learned to prune ours which are grown in containers because it can rain all day when they are in flower and the weight of water on the numerous bracts can damage branches. If placed in a greenhouse they grow even faster and they receive overhead water nearly every day in summer. I have read that at maturity 'Scarlet Fire' will grow nearly as broad as tall...but not if the deer get to it first.

Muhlenbergia 'Pink Flamingo'

Muhlenbergia 'Pink Flamingo'

I had no idea what a Muhlenbergia grass was until about seven years ago when I saw it used effectively at the North Carolina State Arboretum. When I saw the cultivar 'Pink Flamingo' listed for sale at the mail-order nursery Plant Delights I immediately ordered one. According to San Marcos Growers of California, it is both drought tolerant and resistant to deer predation, and you know I have the latter problem. The “Pink Muhly” is thought to be a hybrid between M. capillaris and M. lindheimeri that was discovered at Peckerwood Garden in Texas. The German naturalist J.C. von Schreber named the genus for Gotthilf Muhlenberg, a Lutheran minister, and as with so many of the Faithful, he devoted his extra time to the study of botany.

Cathaya argyrophylla

Cathaya argyrophylla

Cathaya argyrophylla

Cathaya argyrophylla

My oldest Cathaya argyrophylla is planted in the Conifer Field at Flora Farm, and while it has coned for a number of years the germination rate is very low (for me). I wanted to give it some company so we planted out a few more in the hopes of better fertility. Male and female inflorescences appear on the same tree, but maybe my specimen just wants to do it with someone else for a change. I've written about Cathaya before – it's a wonderful Chinese conifer – so I won't continue repeating the same information, the same information.

This blog was just an overview of some of the plants that were added at Flora Farm, and I hope that every one of them will outlive me.

“I make no promises, Talon”

P.S. Honestly, Flora Farm is not the “real world” at all; it is also a coddled environment where we irrigate, mow the grass, spray weeds and prune and stake. If I was to disappear from it for ten years with no attention to upkeep, probably 50% of the trees would look like hell or be dead, and blackberries and ivy would be smothering the remains. I might derive some sadistic joy from that as well, out of morbid curiousity...just to witness how brutally indifferent Nature can be. So don't lecture me, Flora.