Flora Fun

From Genesis we read a few passages:

In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth...

Let there be light, and there was light...

And the evening and the morning were the first day...

I have tried to create a heaven upon my plot of earth, and after 40+ years of owning Buchholz Nursery I finally did the math, and I reckon I have put in about 14,650 days, as well as often working into the night. Some ex and some current employees have found nothing heavenly about their sentence here, and hell itself would be the summation of their term. Well, I haven't always enjoyed their company either. But if one shows up and labors within my gates, don't you think we can enjoy some mutual fun?

George Forrest

Pleione x confusa 'Golden Gate'

I should think so. Today, for example, we divided and multiplied our Pleione stock and I was pleased with our tally of 'Golden Gate', the relatively new “doer” yellow-flowered cultivar which features a fantastic red throat. The x confusa species was originally collected by the Scotsman George Forrest in SW Yunnan, China and sent to J.C. Williams of Caerhays Castle, Cornwall, England in 1924. It was first considered to be Pleione forrestii but now is known to be a naturally occurring hybrid between P. forrestii and P. albiflora. I and other orchid aficionados have floundered with the straight P. forrestii species, but the hybrid is just as beautiful and it easily thrives in our growing conditions.

Androsace sempervivoides 'Susan Joan'

Androsace sempervivoides 'Susan Joan'

Speaking of fun, I noticed an order was pulled to be shipped soon of Androsace sempervivoides 'Susan Joan'. The delightful alpine is not in flower yet – we're about a month away – but the customer knows how special it will be. As you can see from the photo above, even a single florette can bloom, but we have our original start in a trough and it forms a dense mat which produces hundreds of flowers. As is apparent, the genus is in the Primulaceae family and it originated in the Himalaya. The 100-or-so species have now spread throughout Asian and European mountain systems such as the Caucasus, Alps and Pyrenees. The genus name Androsace is from Greek androsakes which is a sea plant (probably a species of Acetabularia). The sempervivoides species is from Kashmir and Tibet and is hardy to -30 F, and our specimen has succeeded in full sun. I don't know anything about Ms. Susan Joan, but I'm guessing that she is English, and the plant that bears her name received the RHS's Award of Garden Merit.

Cyclamen hederifolium 'Silver Cloud'

Cyclamen coum 'Something Magic'

My wife loves the Cyclamen genus – not the gaudy florist-shop hybrids with large blossoms – but rather the petite species sweethearts. I think they're great too, especially since they remind me of her. For Haruko's birthday last April I surprised her with seven new plants, a couple which are in flower today. I don't know much about them, for example: what's the difference between C. coum 'Christmas Tree Group' and C. purpurescens 'Christmas Tree'? Previously we had purchased starts of the patented (ugh!), tissue-culture-produced C. coum 'Something Magic'. We grew and sold them for two years, then inexplicably the producer discontinued it...perhaps because his other customers thought they had died when they went dormant. It's a company that brags about their hundreds of introductions, but they stick with very few of them. The business model is apparently “out with the old (not so very old) and in with the new,” and take them or leave them. Well, we currently buy nothing from this fellow Oregon company. Enough of their slick-magazine, color enhanced, hyped ephemeral product!

Acer saccharum 'Monumentale'

Acer saccharum 'Monumentale'

The pillar in the above scape is the improbable Acer saccharum 'Monumentale', the most narrowly columnar of all maples, and the photo was taken at the garden of the late Ed Rezek. Indeed, this monumental plantsman generously gave me a start of this cultivar back when it was very rare in the trade. Actually, it is still quite rare because I and others find it difficult to propagate, but any time I list one for sale – even at a high price – it is quickly snapped up. Besides the difficulty in propagation, in Oregon the needle-spire, unlike at Rezek's place, tends to boink out with lateral shoots which must be pruned back to maintain its columnar integrity. In the Flora Wonder Arboretum our specimens are above ladder size to maintain, and the project requires equipment-rental or a costly tree-service-company to perform. Of course, none of the upkeep sounds like any of the “flora fun” that I am highlighting...until you find it brilliantly aglow in a late October evening, and where the gardener receives just a minute of breathtaking glory before all fades into the dark of night.

Acer platanoides 'Rezek'

Acer platanoides 'Rezek'

Acer platanoides 'Rezek'

The same Mr. Rezek – who, sadly, I never got to know really well – also gave me a curious seedling of the “Norway maple,” Acer platanoides. It was also columnar but it possessed peculiarly crinkled leaves. The seedling arose in his garden, but in his neighborhood he could not source the mother tree. Prior to his gift to me, he had given others to certain plantsmen, and I think the cultivar of 'Curly Lamp Post' originated from the Rezek garden. While I temporarily named my individual seedling as Acer platanoides 'Rezek', I realized that the name was not nomenclaturally sound. Nevertheless I sold some as such and so the name is with us today. A few years later I employed a woman who previously worked at Carlton Nursery in Oregon, a company that grew thousands of shade trees, in particular cultivars of “Norway maple.” She pulled out a similarly twist-leaved individual that resembled the 'Curly Lamp Post' and my 'Rezek', which proves that the species can get weird at times. I named it 'Carlton' but did you follow all of that? The above cultivars are difficult to propagate, at least for me, but they are examples of where the plantsman can have a bit of perverse fun with his trees.

Edgeworthia chrysantha 'Gold Rush'

Edgeworthia chrysantha 'Gold Rush'

My wife opened the front door a few days ago to let the dog out, and she gasped when noticing that the Edgeworthia chrysantha 'Gold Rush' was in bloom. So surprising since it is still February (though not for long). For the entire time of our marriage I landscape using certain plants with her primarily in mind. I court her constantly with flora that I suppose will arouse her, just as the bowerbird builds a structure and decorates it with sticks and brightly colored objects in an attempt to attract his mate. Well, I guess I have already captured Haruko, but I still like to ornament the kitchen window with blossoms from the nursery, and I sneak them there when she will discover them later on her own, preferably when I am not around.

Edgeworthia chrysantha 'Akabana'

The Edgeworthia genus name honors Irishman Michael Markenham Edgeworth (1812-1881), an amateur botanist who worked for the East India Company, and for his sister, the writer Maria Edgeworth. In Japan the name is mitsu (three) mata (crotch), and if you examine a plant it actually does branch into three stems. The specific epithet of chrysantha is form Greek chrysos meaning “golden” and anthos for “flower.” Edgeworthia is native to the woodlands of the Himalaya and in China, and it is commonly named the “Chinese paperbush.” It is cultivated in Japan as a daphne-like ornamental and for the manufacture of high-class paper for currency.

Edgeworthia chrysantha 'Akabana'

Edgeworthia papyrifera 'Red Dragon'

The Hillier Manual of Trees and Shrubs describes Edgeworthia as a small genus with four species, but only lists chrysantha and doesn't mention the other three, implying that papyrifera is but a synonym for chrysantha. Roger Gossler in The Gossler Guide to the Best Hardy Shrubs, after describing E. chrysantha's flowers as “slightly scented” [I would call them highly scented] says of E. papyrifera, “The stems and foliage are small and golden yellow, but sadly they have no fragrance.” I grow the cultivar 'Red Dragon' and I list it as a papyrifera since I got my start from Gossler. I also grow the very similar 'Akabana' which came to me as a chrysantha. In fact, when I first acquired it the name was 'Akebono' which means “dawn” in Japanese, but the correct name is 'Akabana' which means “red flower.” A mistake I made earlier in my career was to graft 'Red Dragon' and 'Akabana' onto E. chrysantha, but the rootstock will sucker until the end of time. Maybe that's not so bad though, as the colors red and yellow go nicely together.

Camellia williamsii 'Water Lily'

Camellia japonica 'Nuccio's Pearl'

Great floral fun can be found in GH23 with a variety of Camellias in bloom. At home I planted C. williamsii 'Water Lily' and C. japonica 'Nuccio's Pearl' on the north side of the house. My thinking was that we could walk out on the upper deck and look down upon them...and then eventually the bushes would grow up to eye level. In my greenhouse 'Waterlily' blooms before 'Nuccio's Pearl', but outside, at least this year, the 'Pearl' went first. They're both in full flower now, but as far as walking out on the deck, we don't because it's too damn cold.

Rhododendron 'Pink Snowflakes'

Rhododendron 'Pink Snowflakes'

In the same greenhouse is a group of Rhododendron 'Pink Snowflakes' blooming their hearts out. The photo was taken yesterday, but I'm saddened that most are yet to be shipped, and if the customers don't get with it they'll likely have to hold them over until next year. That's the problem with flowering plants like some magnolias and witch hazels, that our cold-area customers – which most are – are still in the midst of winter with no customers of their own yet. Back to the 'Pink Snowflakes', I cannot think of any Rhododendron more cute, and when in flower one person called it an “absolute chick plant,” meaning that all women would fall for it. The hybrid is a cross between two Chinese species (racemosum x moupinense) but unfortunately is only hardy to 0 F, USDA zone 7.

Pinus contorta 'Chief Joseph'

Pinus contorta 'Chief Joseph'

Pinus contorta 'Chief Joseph'

We have been enjoying the stunning yellow foliage of Pinus contorta 'Chief Joseph', a pine discovered in the Wallowa Mountains of northeast Oregon by the late Doug Will. The contorta species is not native to my area; a subspecies grows along the Oregon Coast and another in the Cascade Mountains and further east to the Wallowas. I can and do grow green cultivars of the mountain group, but 'Chief Joseph's' yellow needles develop a crud by the end of February, and a month from now they'll look even worse. We grow it anyway, even with only about 50% success at propagation, because it is in high demand. I constantly remind my grafter to not worry about the low rate – she usually achieves 90% success on other two-needle pines – because not many other nurseries bother with it and we are able to get a very good price for ours.

Pinus cembroides 'Pina Nevada'

Pinus cembroides 'Pina Nevada'

Another pine that is stunning in winter is Pinus cembroides 'Pina Nevada', but it's a non-event the rest of the year. My original two starts are growing in the arboretum, gifted to me about 20 years ago by the late director of the North Carolina State Arboretum, J.C. Raulston. I walk past my specimens a couple times per week and always pause a few moments to marvel at the gorgeous variegation. Visitors wonder where my rows of hundreds are kept, but I don't grow many because there's no perfect rootstock for the Mexican “stone” pine. The originals are grafted onto Pinus strobus and we have also used Pinus strobiformis, but less than half will live past their fifth year. Besides, you have to leave a portion of unsightly rootstock on the grafts for a few years or else you'll lose them all. Hillier describes the species with “Leaves normally in 3s, but varying from 2-5 on some trees.” After reading that I just got the idea that maybe I should try a 2-needle rootstock like Pinus mugo.

Pinus cembroides 'Pina Nevada'

Hillier doesn't mention 'Pina Nevada', but it is listed in the recent RHS Encyclopedia of Conifers by Auders and Spicer. Unfortunately the photo is from a distance and taken of my tree in May so there's no apparent variegation. Hillier describes the cembroides species as having cones 6 cm (2.36 in) long, containing large, edible seeds. My trees produce plenty of first-year cones but I've never seen them develop beyond that. Hmm – maybe I should go out and look more closely. Ok, I did find one older cone, but it is only a round one-inch size. Cute though.

After nearly 500 blogs, I sometimes find that I repeat repeat myself, and I wondered if I have ever used the blog title of Flora Fun before. I used the search bar at the blog beginning and discovered one blog entitled Loads of Fun. Click here if you're still having trouble getting to sleep.

Oregon Conifers

Picea breweriana

You have heard me brag before that the Flora Wonder Arboretum contains taxa from all seven of the earth's continents, and that indeed it houses “Plants from the Best Corners of the World.” Because my home state is also blessed with an abundance of species, perhaps Oregon's wealth inspired me to amass a collection of natives as well as exotics. I even consider many species native to Oregon to be “exotic” in the sense that they dominate other elevations and locales beyond my Tualatin River lands. My properties are not home to many of Oregon's firs, pines and spruces, for example, but still I can grow them and their myriad of cultivated variants.

Today I'll make a pitch for Oregon's conifers...since I still have sticky fingers from our recently-concluded winter grafting program. While California boasts the greatest number of coniferous species (52) in the world compared to any similar-sized area, Oregon ranks #2 with 32 species. However, when you consider that Cal is 163,696 sq. miles (423,970 km) in size, compared to Oregon at 98,381 sq. miles (254,810 km), my state actually contains slightly more species per area than our southern neighbor. By contrast the UK can claim only three native species – Pinus sylvestris, Juniperus communis and Taxus baccata – even though its area (93,628 sq. miles) is just about the same as Oregon's. Thanks to my 15-year-old brainy daughter, who is smarter than most of us, for verifying the math, and to my new friend, Siri, for quickly and pleasantly converting miles to kilometers.

Juniperus communis

I have never encountered Juniperus communis, the “Common juniper” in my woods, but nearby at Mt. Hood in our Cascade Mountains I have discovered it creeping along the ground at the foot of our native Xanthocyparis nootkatensis (formerly Chamaecyparis nootkatensis). Linnaeus coined the botanic name of communis in 1753, and according to The Hillier Manual of Trees and Shrubs (2019): “This species has probably a wider distribution than any other tree or shrub, occurring from North America eastwards through Europe and Asia to the Korean peninsula and Japan.”

Juniperus communis 'Silver Streamers'

Juniperus communis 'Silver Streamers'

Throughout my career I have experienced that most of the J. communis cultivars are indeed “too common” for me, and while rather easy to grow they are difficult to sell; and furthermore they are considered “cheap” plants, not worthy of potting up beyond a 2 gallon size. The exception to that is 'Silver Streamers', a glittery blue groundcover that we top-graft onto 4' standards on the adaptable Juniperus scopulorum 'Skyrocket', or we graft low and stake into a small weeping tree. I think 'Silver Streamers' was a discovery and introduction by the late Bill Janssen of Collector's Nursery in Washington state, or at least that's where I got my start.

Juniperus communis 'Silver Star'

Years ago I discovered a variegated Juniperus communis twig on a sprawling plant at Silver Star Mountain in Washington state. I propagated and named it 'Silver Star' and it garnered initial interest, but eventually I and others concluded that the white portions were subject to sunburn and subsequent disease-like needle crud. It is no longer on old Buchholz's Ark, not even a single plant.

Chamaecyparis nootkatensis

Chamaecyparis nootkatensis

The aforementioned Xanthocyparis nootkatensis is still listed on our sales list as Chamaecyparis, and probably will continue to be until the day I retire or die. I could update the nomenclature – I'm capable of it certainly – but my employees and customers would struggle, so I think it's better to say nothing and saw wood. Besides, the designation of Xanthocyparis is also in dispute since the name of Callitropsis might take precedence. Still others (Eckenwalder 2009) insist that leaf chemistry and DNA sequences would place the “Alaska cedar” – not a true cedar, of course – in the Cupressus genus.

Chamaecyparis nootkatensis 'Mt. Aldrich'

Chamaecyparis nootkatensis 'Mt. Aldrich'

The above genus, by whatever name, is native to coastal area from Alaska to northern California, with an unusual disjunct population at Mt. Aldrich in central Oregon. I visited the latter site one spring, just after snowmelt, and the photos above came at a dear price due to voracious mosquitos, and taking a leak behind a cedar tree was a most hazardous experience.

Chamaecyparis nootkatensis 'Sparkling Arrow'

Chamaecyparis nootkatensis 'Fool's Gold'

Chamaecyparis nootkatensis 'Green Arrow'

I have propagated many thousands (at least 200,000) of nootkatensis either by rooted cuttings or by grafting onto Platycladus orientalis rootstock (AKA Thuja orientalis). Buchholz introductions have included 'Green Arrow', Sparkling Arrow', 'Laura Aurora', 'Fool's Gold' and 'Hatch'. The former, 'Green Arrow', is now ubiquitous in the trade, and so cheap to come by that I don't grow too many anymore, but a few early propagules (and maybe the tallest in the world) still exist in the Flora Wonder Arboretum. While I “introduced” the cultivar, it was actually discovered by the late Gordon Bentham on Canadian Forestry Department land on Vancouver Island in British Columbia. Bentham was denied permission to harvest scions by government functionaries but he did so anyway, and horticulture is better off that he did, Eh?

Picea sitchensis

Picea sitchensis

Oregon used to contain the world's largest “Sitka spruce,” Picea sitchensis, but it blew over in a 2007 windstorm. Well, god bless its 800 plus years, except that Washington state (at Lake Quinault) also claimed the “champion” tree, which is a compilation of a tree's height, crown spread and trunk girth. The sitchensis species can seem huge, dark and brooding when found dominating a sad-green cow pasture, or you might encounter a group of elegantly semi-weeping specimens at wood's edge just a 100 yards from the ocean itself. The Sitka name is derived from the Sitka Native Americans from southwest Alaska where the species is prevalent, and it extends south into northern California (but never far from the coast). Trees can exceed 300' in height (90 m) and it ranks as the third tallest conifer after Sequoia sempervirens (coast redwood) and Pseudotsuga menziesii (coast Douglas fir). New growth tips of Sitka spruce are used to flavor spruce beer, but after trying one bottle of the sour concoction I'll never drink it again.

Taxus brevifolia

Conifers are classified as Gymnosperms (because no wall encloses their seeds), but there are native gymnosperms that are not conifers, as in Taxus brevifolia, the “Western yew,” and several species of Ephedra (Mormon tea). The yew is usually a small understory tree of scrappy appearance, but its reddish peeling bark can be ornamentally attractive. Its range is pretty much equal to that of the Xanthocyparis nootkatensis, except the yew has a couple of isolated locations in southeast British Columbia and in Idaho and western Montana. The seeds are poisonous to humans although birds are able to consume them. T. brevifolia had a short period of fame about 30 years ago when the chemotherapy drug paclitaxel (taxol) was found to be effective for breast, ovarian and lung cancer treatment. I know of at least one nearby propagating nursery that got on board and attempted to root cuttings by the thousands. Their venture didn't fare well when science quickly developed a semi-synthetic method by using extracts of cultivated yews of other species. I wonder what they did with their thousands of plants?

Abies lasiocarpa

Abies lasiocarpa

Abies lasiocarpa

Abies lasiocarpa was so-named because of its rough cones. The “Subalpine fir” occurs at altitude in western North America and Canada, and is characterized by narrow pencil-like crowns. Nothing is more fun than to wander through parks dominated by this fir and its companion Tsuga mertensiana, the “Mountain hemlock.” In autumn the scrub of Vaccinium species glows with red, and one's main purpose is to consume huckleberries. Some landscape suppliers harvest the narrow firs from the mountains, and they are charming when young, but eventually they die in our low-valley setting or else they bolt into larger sizes and lose their alpinity. I know from experience because I planted three trees when I first purchased my nursery and they looked wonderful for seven or eight years, but now they are long gone.

Abies lasiocarpa 'Glacier Blue'

Abies lasiocarpa 'Glacier Blue'

The variety or subspecies (?) of Abies lasiocarpa native to Arizona features cultivars with lush blue foliage. 'Glacier Blue' is a favorite of mine and we produce by grafting onto Abies balsamea var. phanerolepis or Abies firma, even though all Abies species are compatible with each other, at least in the short run. I've never tried to root the blue form, only because it just doesn't “seem” like it would root, and to borrow a more low-land rootstock probably gives it a longer life in the garden anyway.

Abies koreocarpa 'Hurricane Blue'

Abies koreocarpa 'Hurricane Blue'

I collected two other cultivars of Abies lasiocarpa, 'Inga' and 'Hurricane Blue', and both originate from Europe to my knowledge. They looked identical, and after ten years of keeping them separate I discovered on the internet that they are one and the same...so I'll go with the 'Hurricane Blue' name. The selection forms a fantastic plump pyramid, dwarf but not terribly slow. However, the needles always looked different than with the typical Abies lasiocarpa var. arizonica, as they are more short and thin. Again, via the internet I learned that 'Hurricane Blue' is actually a hybrid with Abies koreana (x koreocarpa). Ah, that explains its look! Since we can easily root most Abies koreana cultivars, we have stuck 100 cuttings of the hybrid and I'll be most pleased if they strike root.

Tsuga mertensiana

Tsuga mertensiana

Tsuga mertensiana

I mentioned earlier that the western form of Abies lasiocarpa often grows together with Tsuga mertensiana, and one of my favorite places on earth is the western flank of Mt. Hood where just below timberline (about 5,000') delightful families of both species reside. They are narrow and spend most of their lives in snow. The T. mertensiana is a choice conifer for the garden (where hardy), and I quote a wonderful passage from Donald Culross Peattie's classic A Natural History of Western Trees: “A young Mountain hemlock is all feminine grace, with a long slender leader whose tip nods over...the arms are held out like a dancer's, and the smaller branches curve gracefully out and away and down, like the fingers of a hand extended but relaxed, and all the twigs are clothed in the bluish green of the softly shining foliage.” Yes, the young trees on Mt. Hood look like ballerinas, and at night I wonder if they dance to their own music.

Cupressus bakeri

Cupressus bakeri is known as the “Siskiyou cypress,” but botanically speaking we are now to call it Hesperocyparis bakeri, while other “experts” suggest it should be Callitropsis bakeri. I won't weigh in on that squabble but I do like the rare conifer. It is found in small populations in southern Oregon and northern California, growing on crappy serpentine or lava-flow soils, and so the slow-growing species has adapted to sites with little other tree competition. It is listed as an IUCN Red List “vulnerable species.” The foliage is fragrant, and the late Dr. Bump of Forest Grove, Oregon – an avid plantsman – told me an interesting story...that as he spent summer evenings in his garden he grew aware that his neighbor had taken up cigar smoking, at least one per night. Dr. Bump investigated and discovered that it wasn't his neighbor, rather it was his one Cupressus bakeri growing at the border of his garden that had taken up cigar smoking.

Sequoia sempervirens 'Henderson Blue'

Sequoia sempervirens 'Henderson Blue'

Sequoia sempervirens 'Kelly's Prostrate'

Let me squeeze in one additional conifer native to Oregon – Sequoia sempervirens – the “Coast redwood,” for it actually tip-toes 14 miles into Oregon's Chetco River drainage where it occurs in six small stands. From there it extends about 450 miles south into mid-California in a fog belt between 5 and 25 miles wide. The southern boundary is in the Soda Springs Creek area of the Santa Lucia Range where the rare Abies bracteata (“Bristlecone fir”) grows. We have a few cultivars of the redwood in the collection, some with blue foliage and 'Kelly's Prostrate' which stays low and spreading.

Sequoia sempervirens

The tallest redwood has been named “Hyperion.” It was discovered in 2006 in California and measures 379.3 ft (115.6 m), and its exact location is kept secret for its own protection. The discoverer, Michael Taylor, has documented 50 redwoods over 350 ft tall, and his efforts have inspired research and public interest, and has led to the establishment of a World Heritage Site. At the other end of the scale I have seen a fantastic bonsai specimen of coast redwood at the Pacific Rim Bonsai Collection which is located adjacent to the Rhododendron Species Botanical Garden in Washington state.

Sequoia sempervirens

Sequoia sempervirens

California foresters have documented amazing growth for the redwoods, and “Of all the world's vegetation types, mature redwood forest produces the greatest biomass per unit area – more than 1,400 metric tons per acre according to one study – and far more than the lushest of tropical rainforests.” The above quote is from Conifers of California by Ronald Lanner.

Abies procera 'Silver'

Well, that's just a few of Oregon's conifers, and perhaps in the future I will continue the discussion. I have seen every one of Oregon's 32 and also all of California's 52, even though it gets a little more complicated due to naturally-occurring hybrids. In the meantime I look forward to new growth pushing on this winter's grafts, and roots developing on our conifer cuttings. At some point I will have my last propagation season.