Wake Up Seattle – Trees are Arriving!

Abies nebrodensis at Flora Farm February 23, 2023

It's still February, but we have already begun to ship specimen plants to garden-center customers in the USA and Canada. The timing seems a little earlier than in normal years; perhaps our partners are attempting to stay ahead of the global-warming curve, or our frigid, cooling-weather curve, or maybe they fear that if they don't get their trees right away they'll be sold out from under them to the competition.

Well, no customer need worry, for once an order is confirmed we'll never pull it out from under you. A few days ago we shipped a full truck to a Seattle-area garden center, and they have continuously placed fall and spring orders for forty years. They pay on time always, and more importantly they smile and appreciate what we send. I won't mention the customer's name – and we don't ever have our name on the labels – because this garden center is leery about broadcasting their plant source. That's fine with me, but others actually want their clients to know that they provide Buchholz plants, and they'll even email-notify their customers when our truck will arrive because that always stirs up the avid plant addicts.

Let's take a look at what we shipped to Seattle, for many of the plants are not available from any other Oregon grower.

Davidia involucrata 'Lady Sunshine'

Davidia involucrata 'Lady Sunshine' (Center)

Davidia involucrata 'Lady Sunshine'; these are well-shaped trees in 20 gallon pots with sturdy trunks. The “Dove-tree” selection is noted for colorful variegation that amazingly withstands full sun in Oregon, so it will absolutely sparkle in Seattle's more benign climate. We received our start of 'Lady Sunshine' from Oregon plantsman Crispin Silva, and two years ago we shipped to a New York arboretum (Iroki) the largest specimen of that cultivar in the world. I inspect my trees carefully, and to date I've never had any tree revert. I've never seen one in flower either, however if one did bloom it might not be noticeable amidst the colorful foliage.

Camellia japonica 'Sake Cup'

The unnamed Seattle garden center's owner toured our nursery last summer and placed a “wish-list” order for an item that was never on the sales list. Since she is an attractive female with a long and pleasant history with Buchholz Nursery, I decided to supply her with our first sale of Camellia japonica 'Sake Cup'. This cultivar has the curious feature of rounded, cupped leaves that actually hold water when it rains or when we irrigate in the greenhouse, and I swear that before I quit the nursery I'll pour a little sake into a leaf-cup to celebrate my eventual retirement...or death, which ever comes first.

Camellia japonica var. rusticana 'Madoka'

The name of Camellia 'Sake Cup' in Japanese is 'Madoka and the proper name should be Camellia japonica var. rusticana 'Madoka'* where the cultivar name translates to “round.” This camellia is said to flower carmine-red with “creamy filaments” according to the International Camellia Register, but I've never seen it in bloom...and now my oldest specimen will be planted in someone's special Seattle garden, and I'd love to see the other choice plants they accompany it with.

Mt. Zao

*Originated from the wild as a natural seedling at Mt. Zao, Japan, then named 'Madoka' and introduced by Yoshitaka Fujii around 1985. Seeking help with the translation of the Japanese name, my wife Haruko grew flummoxed, and muttered to herself, “It's Chinese, it must be Chinese.” Indeed, one of the characters of the Japanese name is actually Chinese, but in modern times Japanese people prefer to simplify, and they never use the old, more complicated Chinese character. Eventually Haruko nodded in affirmation that 'Madoka' could be a valid name. Typically Japanese, Haruko never pronounces anything absolute; rather, everything from her perspective is “maybe” or “could be” or “might be” etc. It drives this German crazy.

Cercis canadensis 'Golden Falls'

Cercis canadensis 'Golden Falls'

Hopefully nobody will get confused with the cultivar name 'Golden Falls' which applies to our weeping maple introduction of Acer palmatum, because there also exists a Cercis canadensis 'Golden Falls'. Both are excellent selections that perform remarkably well in full sun. The golden weeping “red bud” (Cercis) blooms in April with a profusion of pink pea-like flowers, then yellow-green leaves follow, and for us the golden heart-shaped leaves shrug off hot summer temperatures, and after a 100F day the leaves actually turn a more bright yellow colour. It should be grown in full sun for best effect, and if staked to 5-15' tall it will develop into a narrow pendulous pillar, attractive even in winter. 'Golden Falls' is a great name for the patented tree which was developed by the JC Raulston Arboretum of North Carolina State University, but I groaned when I heard it because I had previously used the name for my weeping maple with golden leaves. Probably both were christened about the same time, and neither the JC Arb nor Buchholz Nursery were aware what the other was up to.

Acer palmatum 'Golden Falls'

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Acer palmatum 'Golden Falls'

Acer palmatum 'Golden Falls' will grow as a flat groundcover if not staked, and we intentionally produce some as a prostrate form. However, we shipped three trees to Ms. Seattle that were top grafted at about 7' tall, on rootstock with about 10 individual top branches. The power of the rootstocks cause the scions to explode with growth, and some of the drooping branches can grow 5 feet in the first season. We prune these in half to encourage a more-full head, and then the grafts are ready for the retail market three years later. 'Golden Falls' was a chance seedling from the mother tree of Acer palmatum 'Ryu sei', itself a vigorous palmatum with green leaves and a strict weeping habit.

Acer laevigatum 'Hong Long'

Lately I have become interested in a “tender” evergreen Asian species, Acer laevigatum (USDA zone 7), a maple tree from low-altitude (1,000-2,000m) central Himalaya to eastern China. The specific epithet means “with smooth leaves,” and the species itself is often included in a group with the similar Acer fabri, which I used to grow, and with Acer cordatum which I saw last October at Plant Delights Nursery in North Carolina. All three species feature attractive maroon-red new growth, but one cultivar of A. laevigatum, 'Hong Long', is the most ornamentally colored of them all, and its name translates to (the over used) “Red Dragon.” I admit that I have only grown it in an above-freezing greenhouse, so even at the end of winter the leaves remain fresh and colorful, and one must also admire its luxurious black stems. Maybe a problem is that it grows extremely fast in my greenhouse environment, where our 7 gal pots produced 5-foot water shoots which would probably melt to mush in a hard freeze. In fact I'll call my customer – even though she is in warmer Seattle – to warn her to provide protection until mid-April at least.

Acer fabri

Acer fabri

I used to have great fun quizzing plant know-it-alls with the generic identity of Acer fabri, and I would get guesses such as Laurus, Ficus and some others...then I would point to the maple's samaras in the canopy, and I'd blurt, “Rong, it's a maple!” Alas, A. fabri is no longer on the Flora Wonder ark – I sold my last, old specimen when it hit the poly at the top of the greenhouse. My 'Hong Long' has not produced seed yet because all growth is so young and vigorous.

Rhododendron x 'Pink Snowflakes'

Rhododendron x 'Pink Snowflakes'

I wonder if other wholesale nurseries in Oregon grow the prolific-flowering Rhododendron x 'Pink Snowflakes'. Anyway, Ms. S. is getting some from me, and at the perfect time, for the flower buds are just beginning to open. About ten years ago I wrote: Rhododendron x 'Pink Snowflakes' is blooming lustfully in a pot that I have placed near the office door. The sweet cutie features small, glossy green leaves and I doubt that in my lifetime it will ever exceed three feet tall by three feet wide. Tiny flower buds are bright red, but don't let that fool you, because they'll open up to light pink with purple speckles inside. I cannot think of any Rhododendron more cute than 'Pink Snowflakes', and when blooming 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 degrees F, USDA zone 7.

Acer palmatum 'Mini Lace'

Acer palmatum 'Mini Lace'

It was a heartfelt parting with my largest (and 15-year-old) Acer palmatum 'Mini Lace'. This was the original seedling with its tiny, delicate-looking, dissected yellowish-green leaves. It exhibited a wide, low habit with zig-zagging branches and is quite different than its mother tree of Acer palmatum 'Amber Ghost'. But, keep in mind – because I harp on it constantly – that the original dwarf seedling will grow much slower, and with very tiny mini-leaves, than a scion from it grafted onto vigorous, green, Acer palmatum rootstock. 'Mini Lace' has never been on our sales list, the original tree that is, but we have been selling grafts of it for the past 7 or 8 years, and now with back-up stock I relented and parted with the original. Of course the prototype of this cultivar going into the future can never be the tree I just sold, but rather the progeny grafts will be judged as unique and worthy, or not. I would describe 'Mini Lace' as similar to the well-known Acer palmatum 'Filigree' (the green form), just more dwarf.

Acer buergerianum 'Miyasama yatsubusa'

Acer buergerianum 'Miyasama yatsubusa'

Acer buergerianum 'Miyasama yatsubusa'

Acer buergerianum 'Miyasama yatsubusa'

Acer buergerianum 'Miyasama yatsubusa'

I don't grow many Acer buergerianum 'Miyasama'* (AKA 'Miyasama yatsubusa') because it is in high demand, and if that seems to be an oxymoron consider my situation. Everyone wants to buy my dwarf “Trident maple” stock plants, and as a capitalist I am always anxious for a sale, but when I part with them it leaves me with a diminished source of scionwood. Graft “takes” can be decent when choice propagating wood is available, but good shoots are hard to find. Our oldest specimen in the Display Garden is now 40 years old and well past its procreational prime, so now it is just a gorgeous tree, but of little commercial furtherance. For what it's worth it annually produces a million tiny seeds, and two years ago I sowed a few hundred of them. Only four germinated and they grew to normal size, so that effort was a waste of time. One can root 'Miyasama' (and other trident cultivars), which we have done, but again, the quality of the cutting wood is the concern, and even when they do root, the slow rate of growth is...well, unprofitable. Anyway, with my recent sale to Seattle of 20 5-year-old, 2 gallon pots, my propagating dilemma continues.

*“Miyasama” is the Japanese word for “prince,” while yatsubusa usually means “dwarf with congested growth.”

Aesculus hippocastanum 'Wisselink'

A wonderful chestnut cultivar – not for the nuts, but for the foliage – is Aesculus hippocastanum 'Wisselink', but for some reason it remains rare in horticulture. I began to produce it after I discovered a specimen at the Bellevue Botanic Garden near Seattle, Washington 12 years ago, but I have no clue whence they sourced their tree, or where I could acquire one. Five years ago I saw it again at Seabright Gardens, Oregon, one of the world's most exciting of all arboreta – and I have been to many – and their specimen of the “Variegated Horse Chestnut” looked great in their landscape, even though it had already endured a 95F day in June. Seabright's source was Dancing Oaks Nursery, Oregon, and when I found it in the latter's sales yard I immediately grabbed one with clutching fists, and I would have rather surrendered my right hand than to relinquish it. We have propagated it since, so I acquiesced to part with my original, plus some smaller 3-gallon pots. I would love to follow home the lucky gardener who will purchase this tree, and I suspect that a few other trees from Buchholz Nursery will be found in their garden as well.

Aesculus hippocastanum 'Wisselink'

I am positively giddy about the 'Wisselink' and I have written about it before in the Flora Wonder Blog of June 30, 2017: The “variegated horse chestnut,” Aesculus hippocastanum 'Wisselink' was found by William Wisselink as a chance seedling near the Dutch village of Aalten. I've only seen it in two gardens: the Bellevue Botanic Garden near Seattle and today at Sebright. Surprisingly the beautiful cultivar is not listed in the Hillier Manual of Trees and Shrubs (2014), nor in Krussmann's Manual of Cultivated Broad-Leaved Trees and Shrubs (1984), nor in Bean's Trees and Shrubs Hardy in the British Isles (1982), perhaps the three most stalwart of publications for the horticulturalist and gardener. My visit to Sebright was in mid June, with overcast skies and a warm drizzle, and the 'Wisselink' positively lit up the landscape. I would walk on coals to get a start of this.

Aesculus hippocastanum 'Wisselink'

Aesculus hippocastanum 'Wisselink'

Then later, in October 2, 2020, I again sang its praises: It's pointless to squabble about what constitutes a “tree” as opposed to a “shrub,” but Aesculus hippocastanum is definitely a TREE and Hillier rates the “Horse chestnut” as “Possibly the most beautiful of large, flowering trees hardy in the British Isles.” I thought the earlier Hillier editions were remiss to not include A.h. 'Wisselink', but the 9^th (2019) finally lists it, and it is described as “A medium-sized tree with distinctive white leaves with lime-green veins.” If I would have discovered it I probably would have given it some “ghost” name, but it was found by William Wisselink of Holland, and it would be a great treat to see the original tree. A nice specimen is growing at Sebright Gardens, just a ninety minute drive south from here, and since they are a retail operation the public is able to visit. While Sebright calls itself a “garden,” make no mistake: they are a full-fledged arboretum, an eclectic collection that is one of the most fun plant destinations in America. The foliage on Sebright's horse looks a little tired now, at the end of a hot summer, but it's remarkable that it is growing in full sun with no burn.

Amorphophallus titanum

Karl Ludwig von Blume

Karl Ludwig von Blume (1796-1862), a German-Dutch botanist, toiled in the Dutch East Indies and was responsible for the scientific naming of Amorphophallus. The generic name was derived from Greek amorphos meaning “without form,” or “misshapen,” and phallos, which I don't think I need to explain. He was describing the genus of tropical and sub-tropical tuberous plants in the Arum family (Araceae)* native to Asia, Australia, Africa and other oceanic islands. The phallos (penis) member of the name doesn't seem to me to be either “without form” nor “misshapen,” rather it looks perfectly erect and happy; but frequently botanists see in plants some feature that I haven't noticed.

*Amazingly, the Araceae family contains “Duckweed” (Lemna minor) which grows abundantly in my irrigation ponds.

Amorphophallus konjac

Konjaku Monogatari Shu

We shipped to Seattle 20 one-gallon pots of Amorphophallus konjac. My wife knows the plant (konjaku in Japanese) and she informed me that its corm is edible and jelly-like in form; furthermore she shocked me to report that I have actually eaten it – but she didn't say anything at the time because she was unaware that we grew the plant. The common names include “devils tongue,” “elephant yam,” “voodoo lily,” “snake palm” and others. The origin of the specific epithet konjac is not absolutely certain, but one theory is in reference to the Konjaku Monogatari Shu (A Collection of Tales of Long Ago), an ancient compilation of stories from Japan and China with no known author. Not all members of Amorphophallus exude the infamous “rotten-flesh” smell, but A. konjac certainly does which is its strategy to attract pollinating flies, and the rancid stink* is supplemented by the plant's dark purplish-red spathe which looks like rotten meat.

*Interestingly, the smell disappears after the flower has been pollinated.

Stewartia sinensis

Stewartia sinensis

Stewartia sinensis

We also shipped to Wells Medina Nursery...err, the unnamed Seattle-area retail nursery, some Stewartia species. One plant of Stewartia sinensis 'Garden's Guardian', which was my one-and-only, was sent because the customer saw it in my greenhouse and wanted it, probably because it had a cultivar name. My source was the Crispin Silva Nursery, the same company that introduced the Davidia 'Lady Sunshine'. This cultivar is also offered by Dancing Oaks Nursery, and they describe it to be “diminutive at 6' tall and 2' wide – perfect for the small garden. It's full and bushy, covered by white flowers with a boss of bright yellow stamens, and brilliant red-orange fall color.” I never propagated from my one gift-tree because it didn't look unusual at all (to me), in fact my specimen was narrow and fast growing, and had already exceeded 12' tall in just 6 or 7 years. So I don't know if I had the correct plant, or maybe the graft died and I was just growing the rootstock. But in any case, the “brilliant red-orange fall color” is accurate.

Stewartia malacodendron

Stewartia malacodendron

Also on the Seattle truck were some pots of Stewartia malacodendron, the southeast American native that is considered “touchy” to grow, and is thus seldom-encountered in the trade. I have a nice specimen growing at Flora Farm, so five years ago I harvested some scionwood and used Stewartia pseudocamellia as rootstock. The grafts “took” and now, six years later, the graft unions look compatible. One certainly could question my business acumen, what with grafting one Stewartia species onto another, especially since the S. pseudocamellia rootstock is itself choice and expensive, but at least I gained a backup if my one stock tree of S. malacodendron dies for any reason. The specific epithet of malacodendron might seem to indicate that it is a “bad” tree, or a tree that will be maladjusted in your garden, however the epithet is Greek for “soft tree” referring to the silky hairs covering the lower leaf surface.

Seattle gardeners will have the opportunity to add dozens of other choice trees to their gardens via this exceptional retail nursery, and if I was only immortal I would love to supply them for decades more. Below are a few photos of other Buchholz trees that you can find at their garden center:

Abies pinsapo 'Fastigiata'

Acer campestre 'Carnival'

Acer palmatum 'Hana matoi'

Acer palmatum 'Lileeanne's Jewel'

Acer palmatum 'Summer Gold'

Acer pictum 'Naguri nishiki'

Chamecyparis lawsoniana 'Wissel's Saguaro'

Chamaecyparis obtusa 'Chirimen'

Leptospermum scoparium 'Kiwi'

Picea glauca 'Mac Gold'

Pinus contorta 'Chief Joseph'

Pinus parviflora 'Tanima no yuki'

Rhododendron 'Airy Fairy'

Styrax obassia

...and much more.