May at the JC Raulston Arboretum

I loved May in graduate school at North Carolina State University. Being free of homework and tests allowed me more time to focus on graduate work and research. And, in the evenings I had even more time to go visit the JC Raulston Arboretum. May was the first month where the garden didn’t feel like it was trying to decide should it be spring or winter. Warmth had settled in and the plants responded beautifully. Enjoy this reflective plant list of many of my favorites of mid-spring.

THE WOODIES

Hands down one of my favorite shrubs of all time is Corylopsis spicata 'Golden Spring'. It has beautiful late winter flowers, but to me the best show is when the yellow foliage emerges with hints of pink in the new growth.

The parade of magnolias continued in May with many of the evergreen species flowering. I was always delighted to search for the hidden flowers amongst the strap-like leaves of Magnolia yuyuanensis.

I can smell a banana shrub from 100 feet away. Usually the flowers are white, but this variety Magnolia figo var. crassipes has intense purpling in the tepals.

May is also one of my favorite times of the year to see variegation. Most of the leaves have emerged and started growing, and they aren’t burned yet from the heat of the summer. While there are a few variegated redbuds, Cercis canadensis 'Floating Clouds' was one of the best for holding color into the summer.

Deutzia get a bad wrap for being scraggly shrubs that only flower for a few weeks each year, but I still love them for their pearl-shape buds and beautiful chains of flowers. This variegated Deutzia crenata 'Summer Snow' helps extend the season with its white speckled green foliage.

Wowzers, even if this Hydrangea paniculata 'Shikoku Flash' never flowered, I’d still be happy with this spectacular cream mottling.

May is the month that some of the first fruits of the year ripen after late winter and early spring pollination. Here the native Amelanchier ×grandiflora 'Silver Fountain' is loaded with serviceberries ripe for the picking.

Our native Wisteria are often flowering in May. Seeing them reminds me of the plant at my grandmother’s house. This native Wisteria macrostachya 'Aunt Dee' was the first hint that maybe the plant that my grandmother raised wasn’t an exotic but a form of Kentucky wisteria. The seeds that the plant developed a month or so later were a second clue.

I’m not much of a rose person, but the pink stamen filaments on this Rosa 'Meiguimov' The Charlatan® really caught my eye.

Clematis 'Princess Diana' clambers through Cotinus coggygria 'Ancot' Golden Spirit for a striking combination.

I swooned the first time I saw the patina foliage of Cotinus coggygria 'Old Fashioned'. Isn’t it rich?

Oakleaf hydrangea are one of my favorite shrubs, and I was so delighted to discover this Hydrangea quercifolia ‘Turkey Heaven’ at the arboretum. The massive flowers hold up a bit better than ‘Harmony’, another cultivar with large blooms.

A close up of the billowing inflorescences of Hydrangea quercifolia ‘Turkey Heaven’

Now we are getting into some of the subshrubs. Leucosceptrum japonicum 'Golden Angel' has some woody characteristics, but most people treat this Japanese shrub mint as a perennial. The vibrant foliage certainly brightens a dark spot.

Lavandula stoechas is one of the few lavenders that we can grow in the deep south. Seeing how well it performed in humid Raleigh lent me to trying it in Texas. It has performed well here, minus dying back from the below 0F temperatures we had this past February.

I always loved the long border designed by Edith Eddleman and all the color combinations therein. Here Phlomis fruticosa contrasts nicely with the blues of Tradescantia, Amsonia, and Nepeta.

I’ve always loved Phlomis fruticosa for its vibrant yellow bilabiate flowers. You can also see its pubscent foliage here.

THE HERBACEOUS

I was surprised to see Digitalis growing well in Raleigh early in my grad school days. I thought they were more of a northern plant, but it seems getting them started in the fall and then overwintering them works.

I’m a sucker for poppies. I loved this cute little Papaver pilosum with its salmony colored petals.

Yes, I know Paeonia 'Bartzella' is a hybrid between a tree peony and an herbaceous peony, but I stuck it here in the herbaceous section because I feel most people treat it like a perennial. And, wow, does it have incredible yellow flowers. Seeing a peony thrive in the south was certainly a welcome sight.

And, here’s another peony doing well in zone 7b/8a! This is Paeonia lactiflora, the straight species that we know has resulted in many cultivar selections. I admired its blushed white petals and the simplicity of the single flower.

Romneya coulteri was always an interesting spring flowering plant in the scree garden. I liked the glaucous blue foliage that held the white and yellow flowers, and it really popped against the faded wood wall. I vaguely remember it spreading via runners or roots.

A close up of the beautiful flowers of Romneya coulteri

And, I can’t feature some of my favorite May plants from the arboretum without mentioning Asclepias tuberosa. Seeing it thriving here in the scree garden certainly provided some subconscious ideas about growing plants in gravel.

May was also the month that the tropicals really started growing again. I knew this very hardy Hippeastrum ×johnsonii from Tennessee. My parents have it in our front yard. Here it pops against the dark foliage of a Dahlia in the geophyte garden.

Another beautiful red flowering geophyte was the interesting Sprekelia formosissima. Don’t you just love that flower architecture? Native to Mexico, this plant is somewhat tender but worth finding a spot for in the garden.

I loved the two-tone red and yellow of Canna patens. The narrow petals are not as gaudy as the hybrids on this species.

Here is a nice mass planting of Eremurus 'Lemon Meringue', a geophyte I discovered during my visits to the arboretum. The flowers last for several weeks.

Witch Hazels at The Scott Arboretum

I’ve been enamored with witch hazels ever since I realized they were a thing. As a young horticulturist, I was amazed to discover that a species could flower in the dreariest of winter weather.  And, bloom they do, their petals blazing yellow, orange, red, and even purple against a cold winter sky. These pompoms of color warm the heart and say spring is near.  Where I’ve lived in Tennessee and North Carolina, these have been planted in the gardens I knew and visited, but now living in Texas, they are largely absent from the landscape, save for a few native species.

So, I was happy a few years ago when Karen and I travelled to Philadelphia for a business trip in February.  I wanted to show her The Scott Arboretum where I had interned 10 years ago at the time.  (Wow, has it really been that long?)  I had visited this beautiful campus in spring, summer, and fall but never winter.  I was hopeful that the Hamamelis would be in full bloom. The collection features all kinds of Hamamelis vernalis, Hamamelis × intermedia, and Hamamelis mollis.

We made our way through campus as a cold rain diminished and left a dismal sky in its wake. Yet near the Cunningham House, the pale yellow ‘Luna’ glowed. It is considered by some to be one of the lightest forms available. 

The honey colored ‘Luna’

Around the back the short and dense ‘Quasimodo’ echoed the color of the stem colors found in the Cornus planted nearby. It is such a good cultivar for small spaces.

‘Quasimodo’ is such a cutie. It is short and sweet.

The colors on the petals of 'Quasimodo' were echoed by the nearby Cornus alba ‘Bud's Yellow’ (front) and Cornus sanguinea ‘Arctic Sun’ (back).

We continued past Parrish Hall in the center of campus and the long allée of swamp white oaks to find a few witch hazels on the other side just above the famous amphitheater.  ‘Strawberries and Cream’ had this delicious red to yellow fade outward on the petals that mellowed the color.  Also nearby was a young ‘Diane’, one of the best red witch hazels. She still clung to her marcescent coat of leaves, but I found a perfect spot to navigate a photo without the clingy foliage. 

‘Strawberries and Cream’ just looks delectable, doesn’t it?

‘Diane’ is considered one of the best red forms.

I can’t talk about Swarthmore and The Scott Arboretum without showing you the beautiful natural amphitheater with the scattered tulip poplars.

I almost missed my favorite specimen of the day.  On our way to the main collection, I passed by the Clothier courtyard, but with a quick glance back my eyes caught a blob of yellow and I stopped in my tracks.  Espaliered against the north wall of the courtyard in the fragrance garden was Hamamelis mollis ‘Early Bright’.  Reading in Chris Lane's book Witch Hazels, I realized that this cultivar was found at The Scott Arboretum as a chance seedling, and the name was registered by my friend Andrew Bunting who was curator there for many years because it bloomed a few weeks earlier than other Hamamelis mollis forms.  Seeing it espaliered gave me some serious plant lust for wanting to grow witch hazels in east Texas.  Alas, we lack the winter cold that fans their buds into flames.

Clothier Hall. The courtyard is to the right of the bell tower.

My jaw dropped when I saw this incredible espaliered Hamamelis mollis ‘Early Bright’.

This espaliered ‘Early Bright’ was quite large.  Karen helps us get a sense of scale.

Our arrival to the collection proper near the tennis courts was quickly evident as hazes of crimsons, tangerines, and saffrons filled the drab landscape with color.

Hooray! The main witch hazel collection is in bloom!

I was so impressed by the sheer size of the plants.  Most of the time I see young developing witch hazels in gardens, and I had never seen Hamamelis this large.  Two behemoth specimens were ‘Jelena’ and another ‘Early Bright’, this time allowed to grow into its true form.

Ah, what an incredible specimen of ‘Jelena’. I would say this cultivar is one of the best and most popular forms in the US. Sadly, my two-year old plant is about to die here in Texas due to the lack of winter chilling.

Staring at ‘Jelena’ is like looking at a fiery sunset.

And, here is a large ‘Early Bright’ in full flower.

A close up of ‘Early Bright’.

I really like collections like this because it allows one to study the plants and see their growth and seasonal differences. Some like ‘Primavera’, ‘Feuerzauber’, and ‘Wisley Supreme’ were in full bloom while others like ‘Gimborn's Perfume’ and ‘Sunburst’ had yet to flower.

‘Wisley Supreme’ is one of my favorite yellow forms.

Another good red is ‘Feuerzauber’. It tends to grow more vigorously than ‘Diane’

I love seeing the curls in Hamamelis petals like you see here on ‘Primavera’.

‘Red Imp’, a fun named selection of Hamamelis vernalis, held onto its leaves.

Having seen most of the flowering specimens in the collection and with light waning, we left. It was so much fun to visit this collection and get a better idea of which witch hazels deserve more use and attention in gardens. I hope this overview provides a few ideas and inspiration about using witch hazels in your garden.

Fall Foliage in East Texas

While much of the rest of the country has already experienced autumn, fall color usually peaks in the last few weeks of November here in east Texas. We haven’t even had a hard frost yet, though the forecast suggests that is coming Tuesday morning. With the arrival of cooler temperatures and shorter days, plants turn brilliant colors of red, orange, yellow, purple and a myriad of variations between. Our autumn show was pretty strung out over the past few weeks, and below are some of my favorite plants for fall color. You’ll see that many of them are Rhus and Acer with a few other colorful characters that follow. Maybe if you are looking for adding more fall color to your garden, you’ll get some inspiration from the images.

Our native Rhus or sumac species are wonderful plants for fall color. I’ve learned from having Rhus glabra seedings pop up here at the house color is variable; some have barely any color at all. There is a clump of Rhus glabra just up the road in Nat that that always has this nice wine color in the fall.

Most Rhus glabra will turn a more vibrant red at the end of the season.

Another sumac that has spectacular fall color is Rhus copallinum or winged sumac, named for the foliage projections on either side of the leaf’s rachis.

And, these newly planted Rhus aromatica plants at my house are putting on their coat of many colors. This species makes a wonderful low groundcover, though other selections of the species can get taller.

Maples are another genus where one can find a diversity of species offering fall color. Wild Acer rubrum can be hit or miss. This fencerow find glowed bright enough to warrant a stop for some photographs. Don’t you just love those licorice red petioles?

Karen is starry-eyed over this beautiful red maple!

A maple that I’ve learned about since moving to Texas is Acer leucoderme, the chalk maple. It is praised for having some of the best fall color of a maple in the east Texas region.

A close up of the leaves of Acer leucoderme. They tend to be a bit smaller than the typical red maple and sugar maple leaves, but they still have incredible fall foliage.

I have fallen in love with the brilliant yellows of Acer floridanum, our southern sugar maple. We have a forest right across the road where the understory is peppered with these trees that glow in the darkened shade of pines and oaks.

I see many Acer floridanum hugging the forest edge of roadsides.

A decent Acer floridanum leaf on blacktop for some relief.

I’ve long thought that one of the under appreciated traits of Vaccinium is the fall foliage. Even here in Texas, blueberry cultivars like ‘Gulf Coast’ can turn a brilliant red.

Taxodium distichum turn a beautiful bronzy orange at the end of the season. We have one at our house, and I was pleasantly surprised to see the fallen leaves contrasting with these Carex glaucodea.

I have enjoyed seeing our Magnolia macrophylla var. ashei glow in the mornings against the rising sun. Even from a distance outside our bedroom window, you can’t miss its giant leaves changing color. But, the best part is…

… the silvery undersides of the leaves! Such a spectacular silver, it’s almost ghostly.

Parrotia persica also beams in the fall. I delight each autumn that these behind the agriculture building at SFA color up.

Interestingly, this stand tends to be more yellow as I’ve seen other Parrotia that have more reds and purples in the leaves. Could be genetics or the environment.

Another woody that has good fall color is Hibiscus hamabo. It’s buttery yellow flowers in the summer are followed by golden yellow leaves in mid-autumn.

And, you would never guess Asparagus officinalis could color up such a brilliant yellow. Here we see it in the Sprout garden mixed in with other perennials.

And, I saved one of my favorites for last. The other day right down the road from my house, I discovered a black-leaved Liquidambar styraciflua. I know that sweet gums get a bad rap for their troublesome fruit, but check out these amazing leaves that follow!

WHOA! I’ve seen dark-colored leaf forms before, but to have a jet black Liquidambar styraciflua so close warrants propagation attempts.

Wow, wow, wow!

And, since you’ve made it this far, I’ll share a little fall foliage knowledge with you. Notice how the one tip is still green. Anthocyanins, which give trees their red and purple colors in autumn, form new in the fall as the leaves prepare to senesce and fall off the tree. These compounds act as sunscreen, help stabilize the metabolic processes, and also discourage herbivory from insects. This one tip was hidden under the leaf until I pulled it to the top. It’s a good illustration that some leaves have to experience sunlight to cause that color shift.

Celebrating Earth Day with Stewartia malacodendron

Stewartia malacodendron (silky camellia) is a member of the tea family (Theaceae) that graces the stream-side understory of our southern forests.  Populations are scattered, and we are fortunate enough to have a disjunct population in east Texas.  

Higher up the slopes on this petrified-wood bearing creek one finds Stewartia malacodendron.

Karen and I spent a cloudy Earth Day looking for these small trees in Newton County, Texas.  We were joined by Dawn Stover and our guide Peter Loos who has been investigating these populations since the early 1990’s. 

The white flowers, a little larger than a golf ball, pop in the dark understory or against the forest edge.

A close up of the flowers and stamens of silky camellia. Just beautiful.

I saw them in flower last spring with students.  The white blooms are hard to miss against the dark forest.  On closer inspection one sees the eggshell petals surrounding a sparkler of purple-red stamens.  But, I have only seen them in an edge habitat.  

Peter took us to a new site that had even more specimens.  We walked through a wooded gully seeing jewels like Asclepias variegata and even the rare-to-Texas Amelanchier arborea.  We climbed the other side and soon found ourselves flanked by Stewartia.  

Seeing the trees in their natural environment under a canopy I noticed for the first time their strongly horizontal growth.  I suspect that these plagiotropic branches are arranged to maximize sunlight collection.  It even seemed like the foliage had this pattern where leaves didn’t overlap each other.  We saw one specimen that Peter deemed “The Champion” as it had a canopy spread of 25 feet. 

Here Stewartia malacodendron spreads itself out in the understory. If you look in the background, you can see even more silky camellia.

I noticed that many plants seemed to have this horizontal growth habit. This architecture is likely for maximizing light capture in the understory.

Quickening claps of thunder cut our visit short.  But, we’ll return again.  Evidently, cuttings are best taken in early-to-mid May.  We will see in a few weeks as we work to learn more about how to propagate this incredible native tree. It is safe from extinction due to its wide distribution in the southeast, but it is critically imperiled in Texas.  Working to save diversity was a great way to celebrate Earth Day.

The Foggy Flowers of White Fringe Tree

I love seeing our Chionanthus virginicus (white fringe tree) lit with the golden glow of dawn.  As I look west out the kitchen window, the flowers look more like white cotton candy hanging in the tree than petals.  

I was amazed when we first bought the house at how big a fringe tree we had inherited!  This fine vase-shaped specimen tops out around 15 feet tall.  And, every spring it brings me joy when it erupts in its haze of bloom. I worry about it a bit because there’s some deadwood that needs to be removed, but these trees have a way of surviving in the pineywoods.  I see them flowering up and down the roadside edges in much less hospitable environs.  And, I hope that emerald ash borer stays away for a long time from this area as they can complete their life cycle in fringe trees. Yuck.

Here’s a fun fact.  Did you know that Chionanthus virginicus is dioecious?  That means that you have separate male and female flowers on different plants.  Therefore, both sexes are needed for fruit set.  

Rarely, plants exhibit the interesting condition where they are polygamo-dioecious.  That means individuals that are male or female may have some perfect (male and female) flowers mixed in.  I have yet to see any fruit on ours; therefore, I assume it is male.  Here’s hoping that some of it’s pollen makes it’s way to a female or polygamo-dioecious male to make more of these incredible trees.