Flora Encounters

 If you look up buchholznursery.com and click on our plants, you'll be able to continue with Explore Our Plant Library. Then, you are warned in lurid red type: “Although our Plant Library contains thousands of interesting and hard to find plants, please understand that we do not necessarily offer all of these for sale. Please consult our availability listings for current stock.” In fact, not all of the plants with photos and descriptions are even in the collection any more, nor were some ever included. Gripers have opined that it makes no sense, that why do I titillate with photos but then not deliver?

Dracaena draco - Never Grown at Buchholz Nursery

Dracaena draco

What happened is the same that occurred with the fantastic horticultural reference book, The Hillier Manual of Trees and Shrubs, which I consult nearly every day. Robert Hillier explains in the Foreword of the 2019 edition (9^th): “The origin of the HMTS was the Hillier Nurseries 1964 Centenary catalogue and the manual was originally intended by my father [Sir Harold Hillier] to list all of the plants grown and offered for sale by the nursery. However, it eventually extended to become a comprehensive record of hardy woody plants available in the temperate regions.” Likewise my photo library morphed into an autobiography, a record of the plants I have seen. That explanation seems consistent with my philosophy previously stated, that one never really “owns” a tree – even if it grows on your property – you merely “borrow” it for a period of time. I doubt that your/my property will follow you/me to heaven either: for it belongs equally to the birds, the bees and the deer that eat the trees.

Trachycarpus fortunei

Trachycarpus fortunei

Today's blog will explore some of my encounters, but just those plants which I have never grown myself. I'm not sure, but maybe that's the majority of entries in the library. Consider Trachycarpus fortunei, a palm tree I have never grown, and one that I never will. I have nothing against it – the trunk and leaves are highly ornamental – but it's just not my kind of tree. The “Windmill palm” has become popular in Oregon's suburban landscapes, and indeed my sister has an old specimen in her landscape, but I don't think it would pair well with my Abies, Acer species, Magnolias etc., so I would never plant one even if it was given to me for free. It's not surprising, I guess, that the palm is now featured in many plantings in the McDonald's burger-joint landscapes in western Oregon, usually accompanied with Phormium cultivars. I suppose the fast-food corporation has deduced that these plants actually whet your appetite for their grub, as if more fun can be had when consuming greasy french fries served under exotic flora.                        Dah                     

                                                                                           Dah Dah Dah         Dah. I'm loving it.

 

Rhododendron jiangangshanicum

Rhododendron jiangangshanicum

I grow a lot of special Rhododendrons in my garden, but my collection pales to that of the Rhododendron Species Botanical Garden in Washington state. There I saw R. jiangangshanicum with a specific epithet that would be a chore to chat about. I don't know where the type specimen was discovered, nor by whom, but jiang means “river” in Chinese while shan is “mountain.” The Yangtse River, the third longest in the world, is known as Chanjiang (“long river”).

Rhododendron indicum 'Kinu no hikari'

Rhododendron indicum 'Kinu no hikari'

Rhododendron indicum's name was coined by Linnaeus, but while the epithet means “from India” the evergreen azalea/rhododendron is actually native to southern Japan, and so naturally I wonder what Carolus L. was thinking, what was his informational source? The flowers can vary, as seen above, and so too Hillier calls it a “variable species with numerous forms.” It barely squeaks by in hardiness in my area so I have never pursued it, however the slightly more benign Washington botanic garden provides a more doable location. The cultivar name of 'Kinu no hikari' is Japanese for kinu (silk) no (of) hikari (light), where Kinu is often used as a girl's name. Kinu - “Keeenuko” - for “little silk,” what a sweet child's name. The photos above were taken at the Pacific Rim Bonsai Collection which is housed adjacent to the Rhododendron garden, and definitely the two provide a double-dose of botanical excitement. Allow a full day to see both, then return at least once a month for at least a full year...then for another and another because you'll never tire of the place.

Acer buergerianum 'Hana chiru sato'

Acer buergerianum 'Hime toyo nishiki'

Acer buergerianum 'Inazuma nishiki'

Acer buergerianum 'Tricolor'

Acer buergerianum is a small deciduous tree that one would suppose is native to Japan – due to a number of interesting cultivars discovered and propagated there – yet actually it originates in eastern China and the Korean peninsula and not to Japan at all. I have accumulated a modest number of these selections, yet I also lack quite a few. I know where to acquire more cultivars, but frankly my career is winding down, so encountering them, if only seeing a particular clone for a few moments, that is enough to satisfy me, i.e. a “borrowed” glimpse is all I need at this point. I should be proud that some of my photos are included in the Vertrees/Gregory Japanese Maples publication (4^th edition, 2009), but some of these selections have never been grown on my property, and in fact I witnessed most at Masayoshi Yano's fabulous maple collection near Nara, Japan. So, don't come to me to find 'Hana chiru sato' because I have never grown one, but I do relish my photo. Likewise, my encounters of A.b. 'Hime toyo nishiki', 'Inazuma nishiki' and 'Tricolor' that are found on my website, these also have never been grown here.

Heinrich Burger

The buergerianum epithet honors Heinrich Burger (1804-1858) who discovered the species while stationed in Dejima Island, Japan, and the honor was bestowed by the Dutch botanist Friedrich Miquel (1811-1871). The lay maple aficionado would probably have preferred to keep the name Acer trifidum which Hooker used to describe the three-lobed leaves. I have read that “the leaves are strongly polymorphic.” (in DeBeaulieu's An Illustrated Guide to Maples), but I don't think any more so than with Acer palmatum and some other Acer species that have given rise to the thousands of cultivars which fascinate us, many selected for their fantastic leaf variations.

R. Hatch

Hebe 'Red Edge'

My friend, R. Hatch, still gardens enthusiastically (at age 86) with his eclectic collection of cultivated individuals. His 1/3-acre landscape is a busy congregation of plants with unusual colors, shapes and textures, and though his ground lacks a theme or an artistic flow, the visitor can keep busy for an hour or two just trying to mentally document all that it contains. A delightfully-colored Hebe caught my attention a couple of years ago – Hebe 'Red Edge' – then I stared at it again for a few moments during last month's visit...and I have to admire and applaud Hatch with his acquisitions, even if all the pieces don't actually mix and match. R. kept the retail label under the little bush because he knew that I'd certainly, at some point, demand to know the shrub's identity, and it read Hebe albicans 'Red Edge'. Hillier (9^th edition, 2019) suggests, however, that we have a “probable” H. albicans x H. pimeleoides 'Glaucocaerulea' hybrid. I don't know the nomenclature, and really don't care at all, but I'll grant that his dwarf, low-hugging treasure provides as much dazzle per square inch as any other cultivated plant.

 

Hebe

Let's see: Hebe can mean a derogatory term for a Jew (as in a Hebrew), but also can refer to the ancient Greek word for “youth” or “prime of life.” I can relate to that, except that it has been quite a while. Hebe was the daughter of Zeus and Hera, and at first she was the cupbearer to the gods and goddesses of Mount Olympus, serving nectar and ambrosia until eventually marrying Hercules. Later she was known as Juventas by the Romans, but one is hard-pressed to connect these ancient ties with what we know now as the New Zealand “figwort.” The figworts are related to the mullein family of Scrophulariaceae, and though Hebe was once classified under Veronica, it is now considered (by Hillier) to be in the Plantaginaceae family (the “plantain family”) in the order Lamiales.

 

Pseudocydonia sinensis

Pseudocydonia sinensis

Pseudocydonia sinensis

Haruko

Samisen player

I've never seen Pseudocydonia sinensis in any Oregon garden, and the first time I saw it myself was at the North Carolina State Arboretum as a bonsai specimen, and a day or two later at the Keith Arboretum as a good-sized tree. It's proof that them easterners appreciate a good trunk when they see one. A separate genus is Cydonia oblonga, the common “quince,” and my welfare neighbor grows one next to his rusty trailer. The word Cydonia is from Greek kydoni which means “quince,” and kydonion malon translates as “apple of Kydonia” (modern Khania) an ancient seaport city-state on the northwestern coast of Crete. The Pseudocydonia produces edible fruit and they become less astringent after periods of frost, and it is also used in traditional Chinese medicine for its antioxidant and antiviral properties. In Japan the Pseudocydonia wood is used for a three-string instrument called samisen, and those constructed with a long narrow neck (sao) are appropriate for kabuki, while a more broad neck is used for puppet plays and folk songs. My Japanese wife is constructed with the long-narrow neck, so much so that I tease her as looking like an alpaca, and also, when her hair is pinned up in a bun, she's like Olive Oil in a Popeye cartoon. Shiverrrer me timbers...arrrgh!

Sorbus scalaris

Sorbus scalaris is a small deciduous tree from Sichuan and Yunnan, China, first collected by E.H. Wilson in 1904. Hillier describes it “of distinct appearance” with leaves “dark glossy green above, grey-downy beneath.” In autumn the leaves change to rich reddish-purple gold and orange, and branches are clad with bunches of orange-red fruits. This “Chinese mountain ash” is also known as the “Ladder rowan” due to the shape of the foliage; indeed the specific epithet is from Latin scala for “ladder.” An interesting fact is that S. scalaris is self-incompatible, meaning that if seedlings are raised then they are likely hybrids with other species. While that strategy prevents in-breeding, one wonders how it manages to spread in the wild.

Clematis montana var. wilsonii

Clematis montana var. wilsonii

I'm not really a vine guy, and I killed the one and only Clematis x cartmannii 'Joe' that I was gifted. When I began my career I visited a neighboring nursery, and I remember when the proprietor showed me a greenhouse disaster, where his Clematis looked dreadful due to some herbicide that he should not have applied willy-nilly. The visuals scarred me to this day and I always held that against the genus. Besides, I'm fortunate to live just an hour away from the acclaimed Rogerson's Clematis Collection, a peaceful garden chock-a-block with hundreds of cultivars and other attractive plants as well. My favorite there is a trellis of C. montana var. wilsonii which Wilson collected in China in 1907. Clematis is the Latin name for the climber and was coined by Linnaeus, from Greek klema for “vine-branch, shoot or twig broken off,” and that from klan, “to break.” It is too late for me to learn about, and then to produce Clematis, and I suppose there are nurseries in the world that specialize in them only, so I'll make no effort to crowd in. The Rogerson collection satisfies me completely, and thanks to all of their volunteers who make my visits so enjoyable.

Pinus montezumae

Pinus montezumae

Pinus montezumae

An incredible Pinus species is the Mexican P. montezumae, a USDA zone 9 three-to-five needle conifer with a wide spreading form and notable for a deeply-fissured trunk. I have only seen the tree in three locations: at the Strybing Arboretum in San Francisco, at the Washington Park Arboretum in Seattle, and also at the Sir Harold Hillier Arboretum in southern England. When I began my nursery 41 years ago a few doctors befriended and supported me; they're all late now. I remember Dr. Corbin of Portland and Dr. Mossman of Vancouver, Washington, showing up at the nursery on a particularly rainy day. Dr. C. was a shrewd businessman as well as a TV-advertising eye doctor, and quite wealthy besides, so it was rather humorous to see him garbed in a Goodwill-level trench coat and topped with his wife's 29-cent plastic shower cap to fend off the rain. He was in his upper 70s at the time, and he certainly could afford a modern rain hat and umbrella. Nevertheless, he dropped off a bag of six P. montezumae branchlets and implored me to transform his dirty sticks into living trees. I despaired at the task: hmm...three-to-five needles per fascicle...umm, my guess was to use a two-needle rootstock such as Pinus sylvestris, and I copulated the Montezumae accordingly. Three grafts unionized, initially at least, and so I could deliver upon my effort. I don't know what ever happened to those trees though, because I never saw them again on either property.

Acer saccharum subsp. skutchii

Acer saccharum subsp. skutchii

Someone called our office a few days ago looking to purchase Acer skutchii, but never has one existed here. The Mexican “Cloud Forest maple” is scientifically known as Acer saccharum subsp. skutchii...so, the southernmost (even into Guatemala) range of America's great “Sugar maple.” I don't know how hardy the species is, but sadly it is Critically Endangered. The native population, in only five locations, occupies an area less than 50 square km. And these five locations are widely spread apart besides. I have read (Global Trees): “Acer skutchii is found in a single ex situ collection at Stephen F Austin University, Texas.” I'm unsure why A. skutchii is absent from DeBeaulieu's An Illustrated Guide to Maples, even as a subspecies. The epithet skutchii honors Alexander Frank Skutch (1904-2004), a botanist, naturalist and author, and prior owner of Los Cusingos* Bird Sanctuary in Costa Rica. Skutch died just eight days before his 100^th birthday.

 *Los Cusingos is named for the red-billed Aracari, a member of the Toucan family.

If you enjoy plants, if you love growing plants, then it's probably best that you don't own a wholesale nursery, because then the Kingdom Plantae foremost becomes a series of crops, Plantae cropii. To freely appreciate the mosses, weeds, bushes and trees you should not be required to tend to them for your living. Let them be, let them thrive, grow crooked or die, let it all exist out of your control. You'll never run out of subject matter: it is estimated that only 15% of the species of plants on planet Earth have been studied to date by mankind...so get with it, you lab-coated nerds!