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| Pinus jeffreyi |
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| Pinus jeffreyi |
I recently discovered a new word, senescence, in the winter 2022 edition of Arnoldia, a publication from Harvard University's Arnold Arboretum. The article was penned by Robin Lee Carlson and titled Oak and Pine in Life and Death. She writes, “Time is the slow, slow pull of senescence, embarked upon long before the tree's final end.” My new word is defined as “the state of being old, the process of becoming old,” and comes from Latin senex meaning “old.” Well, like me, because it is the origin of the word “senior.” But not like me – I hope – because senex is also the origin of the word “senile.”
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| Pinus longaeva |
Hmm...a tree's final end. The organism could be 99.9% dead, but still hangs on by a thread. In my nursery's case, if a tree or bush is even 10% “dead” it will probably get thrown out; we're not a tree hospital with the ability to nurse the infirm nor to wait for the pull of senescence to play itself out. We're praying that the company itself is able to fend off the pull.
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| Thuja occidentalis |
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| Thuja occidentalis |
The Latin name arborvitae is expressed in French as l'arbre de vie, and it designates “tree of life.” The Swedish botanist Caroleus Linnaeus coined the generic name Thuja from a Greek word for “perfume,” and if you crush a bit of the foliage you'll get the olfactory message. The common name of “cedar” belongs to the “true” Cedrus genus, along with the similarly-related Calocedrus (Libocedrus) genus, and all of these conifers are pleasantly aromatic.
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| Thuja occidentalis 'Smaragd' |
Linnaeus perhaps knew that Thuja occidentalis was the first North American tree to be introduced into Europe, for it was discovered by French explorers and found its way into Paris by 1536, a mere 44 years after Columbus discovered America in the first place. Tea prepared from the foliage and bark was rich in Vitamin C, and thanks to the native Americans for saving the Frenchmen of the Cartier expedition from a scurvious demise, and even today cedar oil for medicine is distilled from the sap. While the species itself is considered boring for ornamental purposes, there are a number of useful forms that are dwarf, weeping or display colorful variations. Ok, I should qualify “boring” as a personal opinion: since my climate and soil allow me to grow thousands of conifer cultivars from hundreds of species, those of the Thuja genus are considered cheap and easy-to-grow in the trade. The deep-green hedge plant from Denmark, Thuja occidentalis 'Smaragd' (“emerald-green” in Danish), to be fair, could be the single-most cultivated woody tree on earth for ornamental purposes.
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| Sempervivum 'Spinel' |
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| Sempervivum 'Aldo Moro' |
We sold a number of Sempervivum cultivars to a maple mail-order nursery, and the owner reckoned that the “hens and chicks” would serve as suitable “starter plants” for his millennial customers who maybe needed an encouraging boost with growing success, a can't-miss genera that would addict the would-be plant collector with positive, colorful results so they'd be prepared for the challenges of maple culture. Named from semper for “always” and vivus for “living,” these perennials always live and can tolerate difficult conditions of growth. Generally speaking, brown thumbs succeed just as well as the green-thumbers, so everybody gets a living trophy...right?
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| Sempervivum 'Chick Charms Gold Nugget' |
Well, not so fast, my friends, because I didn't take into account the dim thumbs. A new member of the Buchholz irrigation crew misconstrued management's instructions about sempervivum's watering needs, and instead of providing limited irrigation, he instead doubled it up – all summer long – and proceeded to rot half the crop. So much for “always living,” it seems we're capable of killing anything.
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| Sequoia sempervirens 'Mt. Loma Prieta Spike' |
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| Sequoia sempervirens |
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| Cupressus sempervirens |
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| Cupressus sempervirens |
Somewhat related with sempervivum, one encounters the epithet sempervirens in horticulture, which means “always flourishing” or “always green.” Sequoia sempervirens is an evergreen conifer, as an example. So too is Cupressus sempervirens, the “Italian cypress,” and some specimens are known to exceed 1,000 years in age.* The “churchyard cypress” lends itself to Mediterranean landscapes, and the scented wood was famously used for the doors of St. Peter's Basilica in the Vatican City, Rome where eternity is commonly preached.
*The oldest living cypress is the Sarv-e-Abarkooh in Iran, estimated to be about 4,000 years old.
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| Taxus baccata 'Green Column' |
The genus name Taxus is Latin for “yews,” while the “English yew's” name, baccata, means “fruit-bearing” which references its berry-like arils, and it was Linnaeus who coined the name in 1753 in his Species Plantarum. The words toxic and textile are derived from the root “taxus” due to the tree's toxicity and its bark's usefulness as a weaving material.
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| Taxus baccata at Fortingall, Scotland (Photo by Paul Hermans) |
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| William Wordsworth |
One can easily spend a few hours puttering around in a European graveyard where a solitary yew, or a group of yews often hover over the tilting stones. In some cases the trees predate the church building, as earlier pagans considered Taxus to be sacred. The yews' ages are not easily determined since the inner wood is often hollow, so estimates can vary greatly, as with the Fortingall, Perthshire tree that's at least 2000 years up to 9000 years old. Poet William Wordsworth described a yew in 1815:
“Of vast circumference and gloom profound
This solitary Tree! – a living thing
Produced too slowly ever to decay.”
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| Picea abies |
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| Picea abies 'Old Tjikko' (photo by Karl Brodowsky) |
The world's oldest known “Norway spruce” (Picea abies) has been named “Old Tjikko,”* but it stands only 5m (16') tall. Located in Dalarna Province, Sweden, it is estimated to be 9,564 years old. Discovered by wife/husband scientists Lisa Oberg and Leif Kullman, it is actually the root system that is thusly aged. For thousands of years it existed as a squatty, stunted krummholz form, then it assumed a normal tree shape in the 20th century due to global warming. It has survived so long due to vegetative cloning via layering, where heavy snows push the lower branches into the soil and they take root. The estimated root age is close to the maximum possible for its area, since the last receding ice sheet exposed the conifer's location around 10,000 years ago.
*The discoverers named the ancient “Old Tjikko” after their late dog.
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| Vachellia tortilis |
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| Caravaniers in Niger |
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| Niger |
I never did see it, but could only read about the “Tenere Tree” (French: L'Arbre du Tenere), a solitary acacia (Vachellia tortilis) that was considered the most isolated tree on earth. It was growing alone, more than 150km (93mi) from any other tree, and was considered a landmark on caravan routes through the Sahara Desert in northeast Niger. The acacia was born to life back when the desert was less inhospitably dry than today, and while its brethren perished over time, the solitary survivor was found – when a nearby well was dug – to have roots that reached the water table 33m (108ft) below the surface. The tree was miserable in appearance but considered taboo by the caravaniers who would never dare to harm or plunder it. It was a living lighthouse for those beginning or ending their journey across the desert.
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| The Tree of Tenere in 1961 |
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| Musee National du Niger - Niamey |
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| Pavillion with the remains of the Tree of Tenere |
Sadly the Tree of Tenere was smashed down by a truck driver – apparently drunk – in 1973. Its remains were hauled off to the Niger National Museum in the capital, and what a tragic exhibit that must be. Niger officials stepped forward, however, and memorialized the tree's original location with a simple metal sculpture. No one consulted with me about suitable punishment for the offending truck driver; I probably would have suggested a cramped coffin from its wood for immediate fulfillment.
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| Elizabeth and Margaret gardening |
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| Queen Elizabeth |
Buchholz Nursery was pleased to take part in planting a tree at Flora Farm as a contribution to the Queen's Green Canopy, an initiative sponsored by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II to celebrate her platinum anniversary (70 years on the throne of England). Sadly the Queen passed away in 2022 before her project was complete, which was to plant (or have planted) a million new trees.
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| Talon with Patrick Franklin from Bartlett Tree Experts |
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| Patrick Franklin, Talon and Robert Bartlett Jr., owner of Bartlett Tree Experts |
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| Acer palmatum 'Golden Falls' |
As many of you already know, Flora Farm was recently purchased (March 2022) by Bartlett Tree Experts, an internationally famous arbor care company that actually services the Royal canopies in the UK. Bartlett has been in business in America for over 100 years providing scientific tree care, and I was thrilled that the renowned tree company was delighted to assume ownership of my property and floral collection. I know, some are confused that I sold Flora Farm, but that I still own and operate Buchholz Nursery. The Flora Wonder Arboretum, as an explanation, consisted of a plant collection on two separate properties and Bartlett now owns one of them. Thanks to Bartlett's involvement with the Queen's Green Canopy, a Buchholz Nursery maple introduction – Acer palmatum 'Golden Falls' – was recently shoveled into the ground, marked by a rather regal-looking plaque, my modest contribution to fulfilling the Queen's green ambitions.
Life, Death and the Realm Between, this blog's title, can be thought of as Life: Buchholz propagated and nurtured thousands of rare and unusual trees and shrubs; Death: Buchholz is not immortal and he recognized that his trees needed a future care-taker and advocate; and the Realm Between is where I am now, enjoying my trees with Bartlett's capable assistance. Plus, I am honored to participate in the global initiative to add another million trees to help insure the survival of our living planet. I realize that my efforts don't guarantee the future of anything, but at least I know that I did my best to contribute to a healthy world.
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| Deidre and Maura, by Don F Weigand |
As I mentioned a week ago in the Flora Wonder Blog, I was deeply moved by a sculpture of two girls, Deidre and Maura, running through the trees at the Missouri Botanical Garden. Those healthy, vibrant beauties reminded me of a short video of my two youngest, my girls who exuberantly occupy the Realm between Birth and Death. Trees and kids are our best hope, our only hope for the future.
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