Friday, October 29, 2021

The Fleeting Season

Our past year saw some extreme and brutal weather events. For this nurseryman the seasons can be described thusly:

spring is emerging,

summer is enduring,

autumn is fleeting and finally

winter hunkers.



So, we're in autumn now, and though we are rewarded with fantastic foliage colours, I describe the season as fleeting because it squeezes itself in between the long, exhausting summer and the even longer and possibly fatal winter when I consider my business most vulnerable. Fall seems the most transitional of the four where summer continues to linger, while yet a frost in September alerts us to the frigid days ahead.


"Bomb" Cyclone


Just a week ago we had visitors, and they reminded us that we work in a most glorious place. Yes, the warm afternoon sun was brightly and warmly greeting our guests, and their enthusiasm was infectious, and even grumpy old Buchholz was able to smile. I was proud to have accumulated a floral collection that brought joy to others, and I found myself imagining another forty years of nursery ownership. Ahhh...But then the benign elements suddenly succumbed to Nature-Bitch mode when a weather pattern developed into a bomb cyclone – a new meteorological term – just off the Pacific coast. Strong wind and heavy rain pelted the nursery for a week and sayonara to autumn fun, at least for many of our trees.

Acer palmatum 'Mon zukushi'


Acer palmatum 'Mon zukushi'


Book of Japanese Kamon Emblems


Kamon Emblems


Acer palmatum 'Mon zukushi' was glowing next to our road as my wife Haruko and I drove past, and while its warm red delighted her I considered the dismal commercial aspect, namely that it is not a strong seller. But yes, dear, it is lovely, but I usually keep no more than 20 at the nursery at any given time. I could sense Haru cringing because her simple appreciation of the maple would then be compromised by my inevitable probe into the meaning of the name. According to MrMaple.com its name translates as “One of the sacred treasures,” and it was listed in Japan as early as 1704. When I presented that translation to Haruko she stared at me in bewildered silence, and when I snapped her back to the present she admitted that the word “sacred” gave her pause, wondering if “sacred” had more broad meaning possibilities than what she knew about. Ok, so what then? Haru sighed.......then explained that mon is a “symbol or mark,” like a family crest where each family – whether the Emperor's, or her maiden Nagamine's – contains a representative kamon (ka = family, mon = crest) and/or variations. Zukushi means “filled with” or “so many,” as in a tree where each leaf is precious looking. After delivering her version, Haru went to the kitchen to do the dishes, preferring that chore to dealing with Husband's Inquisitions. I apologize to the reader, and even moreso to my wife if I have rendered any of this incorrectly, which I probably have.


Acer palmatum 'Inazuma'

Acer palmatum 'Inazuma'

Acer palmatum 'Inazuma'


At the entrance into the main road at Flora Farm is an old specimen of Acer palmatum 'Inazuma', commonly known in the literature as the “Thunder maple.” It is not the most spectacularly red, or purple-red, of the myriad of upright red Japanese maples, yet in autumn it certainly does present a thunderous appearance. Sadly, yet another commercially over-looked cultivar; but then, what do I care? 'Inazuma' is an old-timer that was known by at least 1882, or perhaps even before...but not considered much today.

Japanese rice plants


Farm Woman - Hirezaki Eiho (1881-1970)


Japanese Farmer and His Wife


Oh, sorry, I sensed that Haruko again cringed when I demanded: “What!, What! What does inazuma mean? – thunder!, Right?” Uh...”no,” she responds. “Perhaps more accurately it is the Lightning maple. “'Inazuma', Talon, is the 'Lightning maple'.” H knows that it would be far more simple to automatically agree with me, but thankfully her Japanese pride compels her to accurately bridge the gap between her demanding husband and the Flora Wonder readership. Haruko explains: Ina is the rice plant, and the Japanese farmers long noticed that it would ripen at the time of intense autumn weather when lightning was common. Zuma – maybe the wife of an old farmer – signifies a close relationship that he also has with his rice plants. He might say “Oh good, lightning happened, the rice will now develop.” Just thunder – the sound part – is “kaminari.” A Thunder Dad is nicknamed “kaminari oyaji,” for a father who gets mad quickly.


Acer palmatum 'Umegae'


Acer palmatum 'Umegae'


Near the office is an old specimen of Acer palmatum 'Umegae', and it was shining brilliantly orange. Its foliage is plum-red in spring and features prominent green veins, and our old friend develops light green seed with increasing shades of red in autumn. The name (oo-may-gah-eh) contains the obvious ume for “plum” while the gae part refers to “the branch of,” so for some reason the “branch of the plum” seemed fitting to the namer back in the 1880's. As with 'Inazuma' and 'Mon zukushi' sales have never been strong, except that any healthy, nicely-shaped maple always does sell. I send David up the ladder once every two or three years for the best 25-50 scions at the top. There's no good wood below or I would cut them myself, but at this point I limit myself to just three steps up the ladder. David is a grafter and he knows what to cut, and I've learned to leave a banana at the foot of the tree, so he always makes his way down.


Acer palmatum 'Kamagata'


Acer palmatum 'Kamagata'


Acer palmatum 'Kamagata'


Acer palmatum 'Kamagata'


Last week's visitors were demonstrably impressed with Acer palmatum 'Kamagata', an interesting cultivar that was selected and named by the maple enthusiast and author J.D. Vertrees of Oregon. He insisted that his findling was a dwarf, and no doubt the original seedling appeared to be, but when he writes, “After eight years, a plant at Maplewood was just over 3' in height,” he doesn't specify if that's the size of the original – which is on its own roots – or the size of a grafted progeny. I find the cultivar to be relatively slow and dense, but our grafted crops are over twice the size as the Vertrees claim. 'Kamagata' was so named due to the small lobes which are “hooked or downward-curved at the tip,” as the Japanese name means “falcate.” Vertrees writes in Japanese Maples, “This dwarf type, 'Kamagata', performs and appears quite differently from any other cultivar with which I am familiar, or can find in the literature.” For the record I have found a number of 'Kamagata' types but I didn't name any, and so has Dick van der Maat of Boskoop, Holland who has named a few (such as 'Diana' and 'Katja'). The first plant purchase of my career, 41 years ago, was six maples from Vertrees at his retail price, and one of the plants was 'Kamagata'. I liked his introduction, and besides I thought my 'Kamagata' purchase might help ingratiate myself to him.


Acer shirasawanum 'Mikado'


Acer shirasawanum 'Mikado'


Acer shirasawanum 'Mikado'


I discovered and named Acer shirasawanum 'Mikado' about 20 years ago and the original seedling, probably a hybrid with an Acer palmatum, resides in the original Display Garden. The foliage color is plum-purple in spring and summer, changing to orange-red in fall. I wrote in the past: I won't go so far to say that I'm tired of the deep red-purple foliage of Acer palmatums 'Bloodgood' or 'Red Dragon', but after a long career of producing them by the thousands, I've grown to appreciate the plummy hue of 'Mikado'. The only problem is that the original tree (photo above) is now twice that size in a space way too small, and I fret about the enormous task to transplant it. The word Mikado was formerly used for the Emperor of Japan, from mi for “honorable” and kado for “gate” or “portal,” and it was first used in 1727. Of course The Mikado was an operetta by W.S. Gilbert and Sir Arthur Sullivan which premiered at the Savoy in London on March 4, 1885. It was an instant hit and ran for 672 performances, with fun characters such as The Mikado for the Emperor, Nanki-Poo, The Mikado's son (disguised as a wandering minstrel), the maiden Yum-Yum – I married a Yum-Yum too – and Pooh-Bah, the Lord High of Everything.


Acer japonicum 'Aconitifolium'


Acer japonicum 'Aconitifolium'


A photo from a previous year shows Acer japonicum 'Aconitifolium' in its autumn glory, and most maple collectors find the cultivar to color dependably. This year was different, however, because most of the leaves turned to orange, then brown, and defoliated soon after our record-smashing 116F inferno of June 22. I've had to accept the unsightly mass for the past four months, and I regretted that it was originally planted along the main road into the nursery. I'll never remove the tree as long as it's alive, but I could understand if the next owner wants to get rid of the old, lichenous behemoth. The botanic name, 'Aconitifolium', is unfortunate for what is commonly called the “Fern-leaf maple,” as the leaves somewhat resemble those of the Aconitum genus. I prefer the more poetic Japanese name of 'Maiku jaku' which means “dancing peacock,” but I don't want to risk confusing customers if I dropped the old Latin name.

Enkianthus campanulatus in Japan


Enkianthus campanulatus 'Hollandia Red'


Enkianthus campanulatus 'Showy Lantern'


Enkianthus campanulatus 'Showy Lantern'


Not only are the maples impressive, but so-too another genus, Enkianthus, which is native from the Himalaya to Japan. The species E. campanulatus was introduced in 1880 by Charles Maries while he was collecting for the Veitch Nursery firm of England. I have seen the species in the Japanese wild in November and the foliage was brilliant. At the nursery the fall color ranges from yellow to orange to red, as do many of the maple cultivars depending on where they are sited. The E.c. 'Hollandia Red' photo was taken yesterday of a bush growing in shade down by Springhill Creek at the southern edge of the nursery, while the more-orange 'Showy Lantern' is from a planting in the Display Garden in full sun. The Enkianthus genus was named for its flowers, from Greek enkyos meaning “pregnant” and anthos meaning “flower,” in reference to the swelling at the base of each flower. The ericaceous, erect shrub is honored with numerous plantings in my collection, and though not as gracefully elegant as many Japanese maples, still they pair well with each other, just as they do in their Oriental lands.


Intern Saori at Heritage Seedlings


Gordlinia grandiflora


A few days ago Haruko and I visited Mark and Jolly Krautmann's nursery, Heritage Seedlings of Salem, Oregon. Fall color was fantastic – our timing was perfect – and our new Japanese intern Saori was enjoying their block of Nyssa sylvatica seedlings. One purpose to visit was to keep my word about supplying Mark with the weeping Stewartia monadelpha 'Fuji shidare' which I obtained years ago from Shibamichi Honten in Japan. The day was mostly cloudy and rainy, but when we returned to the nursery in the afternoon the sun broke through for a moment and I could capture the beautiful color of my original specimen. That was my reward, I suppose, or my karma for sharing a plant. It's a good practice to share, and I came home with two small Gordlinia which were loaded with flower buds.


Stewartia monadelpha 'Fuji shidare' October 20th, 2021


Stewartia monadelpha 'Fuji Shidare' October 29th, 2021


Thanks for the memories, Fleeting Fall, for my 'Fuji shidare' is now mostly bare of leaves, and so too the other trees in this blog. We will soon enter into the skeletal winter, and there we will hunker for a few months.


Thursday, October 21, 2021

Shared Plant Names

 


Acer palmatum 'Fairy Hair'


When it comes to plants most of us will never name a genus or a species; we're too late for that. But a nurseryman can name a cultivar practically once a day if he chooses, and there's no law or code against it. Even at Buchholz Nursery's reduced size these days, we still process at least 50,000 seedlings annually – rootstocks mainly – and all of them are different to some extent and could be named and introduced into the trade as cultivated variants, cultivars. I have bestowed names on a few dozen myself, too many some would say, but I'll let the market be the ultimate judge.

Tsuga canadensis 'Pendula'
Abies magnifica 'Nana'


























One hundred to one hundred fifty years ago the concept took hold to select ornamental plants and to name them for the fact that they differed from the type. The result was a lot of 'Pendula', 'Compacta', 'Nana' etc. Unfortunately some of the “pendula” didn't really weep, the “compacta” could still grow to enormous size and the “nana” could grow beyond your height in just ten years. In more recent years 'Little Gem', 'Lilliput' and 'Gnome' were more appropriate names, but even they are not always adequately descriptive.

Years ago I managed a farm for a large wholesale nursery, and I eventually supervised the daily activities of 100 men. Acres and acres of Rhododendrons were grown, and one summer day the conditions were perfect to clean the fields of weeds. I called on the radio to headquarters that we needed more hoes, as many as we could get, as it seemed like the necessary tools were always at the wrong farm. A half hour later a truck arrived with five garden hoses, certainly not the hoes I was looking for. We all chuckled about the mix up, and further that we could have received a truckload of prostitutes (ho's). The point is that names should be clear and not lead to any confusion.

Acer palmatum 'Yuki yama'


Anyway plant cultivar names are like people names, some seem appropriate or clever or catchy, while other times some strike you as incredibly stupid. 'SnowKitten', or even worse, 'Elmer', for the variegated Acer palmatum 'Mikawa yatsubusa' were unbearable names, and so we were all relieved when someone finally christened it 'Yuki yama' (“snow mountain”). The worst name ever was 'Donkey Dick' – for a Penis...er, a Pinus witch's broom – because it “just hung there” from the original tree, or so it was explained to me. I only had one plant of it, a Pinus nigra I think it was, a black pine, and I eventually threw it away and struck the name from our records.





















Todd Forrest



George Washington, Abraham Lincoln and Theodore Roosevelt are great names for American presidents, Millard Fillmore, Chester Arthur and Herbert Hoover are not. Todd Forrest – a bigshot at the New York Botanic Garden – is a great name for a plantsman, Talon Buchholz is not. 'Bloodgood' is a great name for a Japanese maple, 'Dr. Brown' is not.






Acer palmatum 'Autumn Fire'

Acer shirasawanum 'Aureum'
Acer cappadocicum 'Aureum'



























Rhododendron aureum var. aureum


Acer palmatum 'Autumn Fire' is a good maple name, but it has been used for a green laceleaf and at least two different upright palmatums with outstanding autumn foliage. Furthermore a hybrid (A. palmatum x A. circinatum) was also named 'Autumn Fire', then changed to 'Autumn Flame' to avoid confusion. Yikes, fires and flames: who can keep that straight? I have to watch my employees carefully so that they don't confuse Acer palmatum 'Aureum' with Acer shirasawanum 'Aureum' with Acer cappadocicum 'Aureum'. And I don't know if they could handle Rhododendron aureum var. aureum.

Acer palmatum 'Pixie'

Ilex aquifolium 'Pixie'

Picea glauca 'Pixie'

Pinus uncinata 'Pixie'


The best policy of course is to choose a cultivar name that has not been used for any other plant, especially if in the same genus. So Acer rufinerve 'Erythrocladum' should not have been used if we already have an Acer pensylvanicum 'Erythrocladum'. We shouldn't have an Acer palmatum 'Phoenix' and an Acer conspicuum 'Phoenix', though I'm not certain which name takes precedence. And even for different genera, I don't like that we have 'Pixie' for an Acer palmatum, an Ilex aquifolium, a Picea glauca and a Pinus uncinata. No more Pixies please.

I can think of quite a few plants that I have grown or seen that share cultivar names. There's nothing we can do about it now I guess. A list of some of them follows:

Tsuga mertensiana 'Blue Star'

Juniperus squamata 'Blue Star'


Metasequoia glyptostroboides 'Gold Rush'
Edgeworthia chrysantha 'Gold Rush'



























Sciadopitys verticillata 'Gold Rush'


Picea abies 'Little Gem'

Acer circinatum 'Little Gem'


Acer palmatum 'Bonfire'
Acer saccharum 'Bonfire'




























Acer palmatum 'Elizabeth'
Magnolia 'Elizabeth'



























Acer palmatum 'Ever Red'

Rhododendron 'Ever Red'

Acer palmatum 'Fireball'





Euonymus alatus 'Fireball'

















Pieris japonica 'Katsura'





Acer palmatum 'Katsura'

















Pinus thunbergii 'Kotobuki'





Acer palmatum 'Kotobuki'


















Acer palmatum 'Orion'

Geranium 'Orion'


Acer palmatum 'Rainbow'





Chamaecyparis obtusa 'Rainbow'

















Acer palmatum 'Red Dragon'

Edgeworthia papyrifera 'Red Dragon'


Acer palmatum 'Summer Gold'





Cornus kousa 'Summer Gold'


















Acer palmatum 'Van den Akker'
Chamaecyparis nootkatensis 'Van den Akker'




























Nyssa sylvatica 'Wildfire




Acer palmatum 'Wild Fire'



















Abies concolor 'Wintergold'

Acer rufinerve 'Winter Gold'


Acer saccharum 'Apollo'
Mahonia 'Apollo'




























Pinus thunbergii 'Ogon'
Bletilla striata 'Ogon'



























Zelkova serrata 'Ogon'




Spiraea thunbergii 'Ogon'




















Stephanandra incisa 'Crispa'
Anemone hupehensis 'Crispa'



























Podocarpus elangatus 'Icee Blue'

Juniperus horizontalis 'Icee Blue'


Asarum splendens 'Quicksilver'

Eleagnus 'Quicksilver'


Tulipa humilis 'Lilliput'




Picea abies 'Lilliput'



















Cornus 'Venus'





Calycanthus 'Venus'


















Schizostylis coccinea 'Oregon Sunset'





Acer palmatum 'Oregon Sunset'

















Berberis thunbergii 'Golden Nugget'


Sempervivum 'Chick Charms® Gold Nugget'


Whew! That's only half of them. At least the last two are spelled a little different, but it still doesn't help us to remember which name goes with which plant.

Chamaecyparis nootkatensis 'Sparkling Arrow'
Chamaecyparis nootkatensis 'Green Arrow'


























I hope no one scrutinizes the names that I have given to plants because I don't always practice what I preach. I try to give plants catchy names which seem appropriate or tell a story. For example Chamaecyparis nootkatensis 'Sparkling Arrow' originated as a branch mutation on a C.n. 'Green Arrow'. I didn't discover or name the latter – even though I did introduce it to horticulture – but in any case I think both are great names.

Chamaecyparis nootkatensis 'Laura Aurora'


Laura
I thought Chamaecyparis nootkatensis 'Laura Aurora' was a good name for a variegated “Alaskan cedar,” but I was chastised by the late van Hoey Smith of the Arboretum Trompenburg for combining the Latin aurora with the English Laura (my daughter). But I stand by the name because Laura is the feminine form of Latin Laurus which means “laurel.” Aurora originates from the name of the Roman goddess of dawn, and my daughter is bright and cheerful like the beginning of the day, and like the cedar. We're not supposed to use Latin names for plants any more, but I think that both Laura and Aurora are both sufficiently Anglicized by now.




Cannabis sativa 'Red Rocket'


I try to not be too goofy with names – no 'SnowKitten' for me – but some plantsmen have looked at me askance for naming Acer palmatum 'Ikandi', like I should have been above that. Probably the name that caused the most alarm was for Cannabis sativa 'Red Rocket' since I neither grow, possess or smoke marijuana. I thought about promoting it since the user could get “really high.” And for the stoner crowd it could replace the poinsettia for holiday decoration.



Just stick to ornamentals, Talon.”