A week ago I attended the International Maple Society's Symposium held in Raleigh, North Carolina, and indeed I was roped into giving a presentation myself. The outline of my talk was fodder for a previous Flora Wonder Blog – Maple Explorers and Botanists (October 25, 2022) – where I confessed to the audience that I've long been a botanist-wanna-be, but I lacked sufficient brains to carry out that career. But I have had a good biography as an explorer of maples, though I haven't discovered or introduced a single species. If I have advanced anything it is in the accumulation – and sometimes introduction – of cultivated variants (cultivars) that celebrate the diversity within the (approximately) 250 species comprising the Acer genus.
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| Sarah P. Duke Garden |
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| Sarah P. Duke Garden |
The best part of the Symposium's itinerary was visits to gardens and arboreta, and our first such venue was the Sarah P Duke Garden in Durham, North Carolina, located adjacent to Duke University. Oregon does not house an equivalent plant institution, and even if we did, the admission would never be free as it is in Carolina. Old people, foreign people, Duke students and plant-seekers such as me find solace or inspiration from the lavish (55 acre) landscape and its tree collection. I have been to the garden nine years previous, also during a Maple Society gathering, so I was anxious to reconnect with certain bushes and trees, as well as to hopefully encounter new species recently added, or those I simply overlooked the previous time.
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| Cephalotaxus harringtonia 'Duke Garden' at Buchholz Nursery' |
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| Cephalotaxus harringtonia 'Duke Garden' at the Missouri Botanical Garden |
Surprisingly I didn't encounter even a single specimen at Sarah P Duke of their name-sake Cephalotaxus harringtonia 'Duke Garden', a dwarf low-spreading cultivar that I used to propagate and sell, in some years a couple of thousand per annum. It is an evergreen shrub, rather boring actually as a single specimen, but a conifer that works in a grouping and as a simple, non-descript background foil for other, more colorful specimens. The photo above was actually taken a few days later at the Missouri Botanical Garden...but more about that plant mecca in a future Flora Wonder Blog. In any case, the shrub above was growing happily in the shade of other trees, and since at home my plantings are placed in full sun, our 116F scorcher two years ago caused a bleaching of the normally dark-green needles, and I can see that I never gave 'Duke Garden' a fair chance to shine in my landscape.
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| Pinus taeda |
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| Pinus taeda |
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| Pinus taeda |
The native “Loblolly pine” serves as an anchoring, overstory presence at Duke Garden and indeed in many southeastern USA landscapes. Considered a “yellow pine” it is probably the most common tree in the eastern half of North Carolina (nicknamed the “Tarheel state” due to the presence of P. taeda, as well as at least 10 other Pinus species.*) Accomodatingly, while the pine (genus Pinus) was officially designated as the State Tree by the General Assembly of 1963, no single species serves as the type tree. The P. taeda name was coined by Linnaeus, but he makes no mention of why the epithet was chosen (from Latin taeda for “pine wood”). “Loblolly” is derived from lob for the “heavy bubbling of cooking porridge” and lolly, an old British word for “broth or soup,” and denotes the gruel eaten by sailors onboard ship. Furthermore, in the Southeast USA the word means a “mudhole” or “mire” because it is native to wet bottomlands or swamps.
*Also native to North Carolina:
1) Pinus strobus (Eastern White)
2) Pinus palustris (Longleaf)
3) Pinus rigida (Pitch)
4) Pinus serotina (Pond)
5) Pinus resinosa (Red)
6) Pinus virginiana (Virginia)
7) Pinus echinata (Shortleaf)
8) Pinus clausa (Sand)
9) Pinus elliottii (Slash)
10) Pinus pungens (Table Mountain)
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| Juglans cinerea |
Exotics blend in well with the natives, and fortunately most specimens are clearly labeled. In the distance was Juglans cinerea, the East-Coast “butternut,” a fast-growing species that produces sizable, edible nuts. It was named Juglans from Latin jovis meaning “of Jupiter” and glans meaning an “acorn.” The specific epithet cinerea refers to the gray bark. Native Americans harvested the nuts, though small and difficult to crack, and they are said to be sweet and buttery, hence the “butternut” common name. I didn't notice any fruit on the ground and I have yet to personally sample the food. J. cinerea's range extends west to Minnesota and Alabama...and then even further west – uh oh! – for now it is mildly invasive in portions of the Columbia River Gorge in our Pacific Northwest.
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| Neoshirakia japonica |
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| Neoshirakia japonica |
A new name for me was Neoshirakaia japonica, although I knew it by its previous name of Sapium japonicum (Siebold and Zuccarini). German botanist Karl Esser (1924-2019) gets credit for the currently accepted name, and while the Japanese-Chinese-Korean shrub or small tree is rarely encountered, it's noteworthy for bright crimson foliage in autumn. The monotypic genus is in the Euphorbiaceae family, commonly known as the “milktree” or “tallow tree,” and in a way it reminds me of the plebian “firebush,” Euonymus alatus which is useless and hard to find...until autumn when suddenly one finds it growing everywhere, and is highly admired for its blazing fall foliage. A fascinating characteristic of the Neoshirakia is that the seed capsule becomes hard after ripening, then dehisces with a noisy pop and the seeds are projected up to 20 feet away. Gardeners should temper their enthusiasm for the genus, however, because its sap is highly poisonous, and furthermore it may be invasive in your area. I doubt that I'll ever acquire a tree, but thanks to Duke Garden that they did it for me.
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| Poliothyrsis sinensis |
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| Poliothyrsis sinensis |
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| Poliothyrsis sinensis |
A tree completely new to me was Poliothrysis sinensis, the Chinese “Pearlbloom tree” in the Salix family. The common name is due to the white flowers not totally opening, thus remaining in the pearl-like bud stage. Relieved that the generic name does not imply a debilitating disease, the Greek word polios means “gray” and thrysos refers to the whitish panicles when flowering. Alas I missed the flower show, and I confess that I was attracted to this BIO plant's trunk primarily. The monotypic genus was first discovered by Augustine Henry in the 1880s, then it was E.H. “Chinese” Wilson who introduced it (via seed) to the Arnold Arboretum in 1908. Daniel Oliver (1830-1916), the English Professor and Botanist and Keeper of Kew from 1864-1890, first described Poliothrysis, and I wonder if he was able to detect a “popcorn smell” when handling the flowers.
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| Cortaderia selloana 'Blue Bayou' |
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| Cortaderia selloana 'Blue Bayou' |
I'm a fan of “Pampas grass,” the South American native known as Cortaderia selloana, with its long grass-like blades and its late summer-into-fall plumes of white flowers that rise completely above the foliage. The generic name is derived from the Argentine Spanish cortadera meaning “cutter” due to its razor-sharp leaf margins. I remember as a child playing with the neighbor's clump, and as young, round-headed boys we in the 'hood would fashion whipping swords as attack weapons against any intruders into our control area. Of course, at the end of the day I would retreat to home with bloody hands myself, surprised that a flopping grass could be so vicious. The specific epithet I didn't know at the time, but I learned later that selloana honored Fredrick Sellow (1789-1831) a German botanist who was also honored with the Pineapple guava, Feijoa sellowiana (now named Acca sellowiana). Of course the pampas (plural of pampa) is the treeless plains of South America, especially in Argentina, where the white plumes must make an impressive show. That landscape feature – of a treeless plain – was named for Quechua pampa, the language of the Inca. Horticulture has produced a form with pink flowers which looks like dirty, cotton-candy to me. Also I've known of dwarf forms, but we already have a list of lower-growing, less pompous (pompous – not pampas) grasses, so I want to see full-sized specimens, and I've been trying to acquire a dozen-or-so clumps to plant at Flora Farm next to the public road. The cultivar present at Duke Garden was a more-dwarf cultivar, 'Blue Bayou', with blades slightly more blue than the type, and I guess that it would substitute if I can't locate full-sized individuals.
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| Fortunearia sinensis |
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| Robert Fortune |
*Lu yu (733-804) was a Chinese tea master, known as the “Sage of Tea.” His monumental work was The Classic of Tea, the first to document the cultivating, making and drinking of tea. Up until Fortune's exploits, China held a virtual monopoly on all aspects of tea manufacturing, and never were they willing or helpful to disseminate their lucrative secrets. Not surprisingly The Classic of Tea translates to “Ch'a Ching” – you know, the audible sound of a cash register.
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| Fortunearia sinensis |
In any case Fortunearia sinensis has nothing to do with tea, but it is a deciduous, early-blooming Chinese shrub that was discovered and introduced by E.H. Wilson in 1907 to the Arnold Arboretum, and from there back to Kew in England in 1910. The monoecious small tree is in the witchhazel family (Hamamelidaceae), different from Camellia sinensis in the Theaceae family, and its vernacular name in China is niu bi shuan.
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| Cleyera japonica |
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| Cleyera japonica |
Commonly known as sasaki, Cleyera japonica is a broadleaf evergreen native to China, Korea and Japan. It blooms in May and June with uneventful downward-facing white flowers, then small black fruits follow. The small tree is considered sacred in the Shinto religion, and one will find it commonly planted in Japanese gardens; nevertheless it was first scientifically named to honor German botanist Andres Cleyer (1634-1698). It was Karl Peter Thunberg who first discovered Cleyera japonica – there are about eight other species native to the Americas – but the variegated form is known as 'Variegata' and also 'Fortunei' which was introduced by Robert Fortune in 1861. The spreading, variegated version does its best to brighten shady areas in the garden, but I have also seen it growing in full sun.
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| Pistacia chinensis |
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| Pistacia chinensis |
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| Pistacia chinensis |
*Two old guys were complaining about each other while they drank their beers. One said to his overweight friend, “You're not healthy – you never eat anything green.” Fatso replied back, “Yes I do!...I eat pistachio ice cream.”
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| Muhlenbergia capillaris 'Alba' |
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| Muhlenbergia capillaris 'Pink Form' |
The “Muhly grass,” Muhlenbergia capillaris, is seldom grown in Oregon – maybe it's not reliably winter hardy, or it's not hot enough in our summers to thrive. I grow only one specimen, M.c. 'Pink Flamingos', but it doesn't colour as nicely as I've seen in the Southeast, and while Haruko drives past our grass at least twice a day, she wasn't aware that it existed in the collection until we returned from Carolina and I pointed it out to her. The grass is found in virtually every arboreta in North Carolina, and is also used extensively in non-irrigated highway plantings. It is common to encounter the cultivar 'Alba' in such locations, but the avid gardener now falls for the cultivar 'White Cloud' which features blue-green foliage and “moonlight white” billowing seed heads. The genus was named by German naturalist von Schreber (1739-181) for Ernst Muhlenberg (1753-1815), the latter an ordained Lutheran minister who devoted his free time to the study of botany. Horticulture, it seems, is replete with those of holy, evangelical aspirations who perhaps find greater solace in botanical pursuits than with trying to save the damned.
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| Chrysanthemum 'Bola de Oro' |
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| Chrysanthemum species |
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| Chrysanthemum species |
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| Buxus sinica var. insularis 'Justin Brouwers' |
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| Buxus sinica var. insularis 'Justin Brouwers' |
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| Buxus sinica var. insularis 'Justin Brouwers' |
It can be annoying, but there's times that noisy aircraft will drown out your peaceful visit – and those are apparently helicopters ferrying patients in and out of Duke's esteemed medical facilities. But the garden is wonderful, and was worthy of a second visit, though I doubt that I'll return for a third. As I wrote 9 years ago, “We [the Maple Society] were almost ready to depart, but I lingered in the White Garden near the entrance, because I have learned that it can take up to a half-hour for our group to finally find their seats. Probably the greatest treasure was a formal dwarf hedge of Buxus sinica 'Justin Brouwers', not for the plants themselves, but for rain drops captured on spider webs. The Duke Garden was nice – lovely many would say – and would serve as a great venue for a wedding. But it wasn't my favorite stop on the tour, and their collection of maples was not remarkable; I had a good time but probably will never return.”
But I did return, and I was
pleased that my wife found thrill with the 'mum spectacular; and I'm
learning to shut up and just appreciate what others enjoy.
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