Picea breweriana

You have heard me brag before that the Flora Wonder Arboretum contains taxa from all seven of the earth's continents, and that indeed it houses“Plants from the Best Corners of the World.”Because my home state is also blessed with an abundance of species, perhaps Oregon's wealth inspired me to amass a collection of natives as well as exotics. I even consider many species native to Oregon to be “exotic”in the sense that they dominate other elevations and locales beyond my Tualatin River lands. My properties are nothome to many of Oregon's firs, pines and spruces, for example, but still I can grow them and their myriad of cultivated variants.

Today I'll make a pitch for Oregon's conifers...since I still have sticky fingers from our recently-concluded winter grafting program. While California boasts the greatest number of coniferous species (52) in the world compared to any similar-sized area, Oregon ranks #2 with 32 species. However, when you consider that Cal is 163,696 sq. miles (423,970 km) in size, compared to Oregon at 98,381 sq. miles (254,810 km), my state actually contains slightly more species per area than our southern neighbor. By contrast the UK can claim only three native species – Pinus sylvestris, Juniperus communis and Taxus baccata – even though its area (93,628 sq. miles) is just about the same as Oregon's. Thanks to my 15-year-old brainy daughter, who is smarter than most of us, for verifying the math, and to my new friend, Siri, for quickly and pleasantly converting miles to kilometers.

Juniperus communis

I have never encountered Juniperus communis, the “Common juniper” in my woods, but nearby at Mt. Hood in our Cascade Mountains I have discovered it creeping along the ground at the foot of our native Xanthocyparis nootkatensis (formerly Chamaecyparis nootkatensis). Linnaeus coined the botanic name of communis in 1753, and according to The Hillier Manual of Trees and Shrubs (2019): “This species has probably a wider distribution than any other tree or shrub, occurring from North America eastwards through Europe and Asia to the Korean peninsula and Japan.”

Juniperus communis 'Silver Streamers'

Juniperus communis 'Silver Streamers'

Throughout my career I have experienced that most of the J. communis cultivars are indeed “too common” for me, and while rather easy to grow they are difficult to sell; and furthermore they are considered “cheap” plants, not worthy of potting up beyond a 2 gallon size. The exception to that is 'Silver Streamers', a glittery blue groundcover that we top-graft onto 4' standards on the adaptable Juniperus scopulorum 'Skyrocket', or we graft low and stake into a small weeping tree. I think 'Silver Streamers' was a discovery and introduction by the late Bill Janssen of Collector's Nursery in Washington state, or at least that's where I got my start.

Juniperus communis 'Silver Star'

Years ago I discovered a variegated Juniperus communis twig on a sprawling plant at Silver Star Mountain in Washington state. I propagated and named it 'Silver Star' and it garnered initial interest, but eventually I and others concluded that the white portions were subject to sunburn and subsequent disease-like needle crud. It is no longer on old Buchholz's Ark, not even a single plant.

Chamaecyparis nootkatensis

Chamaecyparis nootkatensis

The aforementioned Xanthocyparis nootkatensis is still listed on our sales list as Chamaecyparis, and probably will continue to be until the day I retire or die. I could update the nomenclature – I'm capable of it certainly – but my employees and customers would struggle, so I think it's better to say nothing and saw wood. Besides, the designation of Xanthocyparisis also in dispute since the name of Callitropsismight take precedence. Still others (Eckenwalder 2009) insist that leaf chemistry and DNA sequences would place the “Alaska cedar” – not a true cedar, of course – in the Cupressusgenus.

Chamaecyparis nootkatensis 'Mt. Aldrich'

Chamaecyparis nootkatensis 'Mt. Aldrich'

The above genus, by whatever name, is native to coastal area from Alaska to northern California, with an unusual disjunct population at Mt. Aldrich in central Oregon. I visited the latter site one spring, just after snowmelt, and the photos above came at a dear price due to voracious mosquitos, and taking a leak behind a cedar tree was a most hazardous experience.

Chamaecyparis nootkatensis 'Sparkling Arrow'

Chamaecyparis nootkatensis 'Fool's Gold'

Chamaecyparis nootkatensis 'Green Arrow'

I have propagated many thousands (at least 200,000) of nootkatensis either by rooted cuttings or by grafting onto Platycladus orientalis rootstock (AKA Thuja orientalis). Buchholz introductions have included 'Green Arrow', Sparkling Arrow', 'Laura Aurora', 'Fool's Gold' and 'Hatch'. The former, 'Green Arrow', is now ubiquitous in the trade, and so cheap to come by that I don't grow too many anymore, but a few early propagules (and maybe the tallest in the world) still exist in the Flora Wonder Arboretum. While I “introduced” the cultivar, it was actually discovered by the late Gordon Bentham on Canadian Forestry Department land on Vancouver Island in British Columbia. Bentham was denied permission to harvest scions by government functionaries but he did so anyway, and horticulture is better off that he did, Eh?

Picea sitchensis

Picea sitchensis

Oregon used to contain the world's largest “Sitka spruce,” Picea sitchensis, but it blew over in a 2007 windstorm. Well, god bless its 800 plus years, except that Washington state (at Lake Quinault) also claimed the “champion” tree, which is a compilation of a tree's height, crown spread and trunk girth. The sitchensis species can seem huge, dark and brooding when found dominating a sad-green cow pasture, or you might encounter a group of elegantly semi-weeping specimens at wood's edge just a 100 yards from the ocean itself. The Sitkaname is derived from the Sitka Native Americans from southwest Alaska where the species is prevalent, and it extends south into northern California (but never far from the coast). Trees can exceed 300' in height (90 m) and it ranks as the third tallest conifer after Sequoia sempervirens (coast redwood) and Pseudotsuga menziesii (coast Douglas fir). New growth tips of Sitka spruce are used to flavor spruce beer, but after trying one bottle of the sour concoction I'll never drink it again.

Taxus brevifolia

Conifers are classified as Gymnosperms (because no wall encloses their seeds), but there are native gymnosperms that are not conifers, as in Taxus brevifolia, the “Western yew,” and several species of Ephedra (Mormon tea). The yew is usually a small understory tree of scrappy appearance, but its reddish peeling bark can be ornamentally attractive. Its range is pretty much equal to that of the Xanthocyparis nootkatensis, except the yew has a couple of isolated locations in southeast British Columbia and in Idaho and western Montana. The seeds are poisonous to humans although birds are able to consume them. T. brevifolia had a short period of fame about 30 years ago when the chemotherapy drug paclitaxel (taxol) was found to be effective for breast, ovarian and lung cancer treatment. I know of at least one nearby propagating nursery that got on board and attempted to root cuttings by the thousands. Their venture didn't fare well when science quickly developed a semi-synthetic method by using extracts of cultivated yews of other species. I wonder what they did with their thousands of plants?

Abies lasiocarpa

Abies lasiocarpa

Abies lasiocarpa

Abies lasiocarpa was so-named because of its rough cones. The “Subalpine fir” occurs at altitude in western North America and Canada, and is characterized by narrow pencil-like crowns. Nothing is more fun than to wander through parks dominated by this fir and its companion Tsuga mertensiana, the “Mountain hemlock.” In autumn the scrub of Vaccinium species glows with red, and one's main purpose is to consume huckleberries. Some landscape suppliers harvest the narrow firs from the mountains, and they are charming when young, but eventually they die in our low-valley setting or else they bolt into larger sizes and lose their alpinity. I know from experience because I planted three trees when I first purchased my nursery and they looked wonderful for seven or eight years, but now they are long gone.

Abies lasiocarpa 'Glacier Blue'

Abies lasiocarpa 'Glacier Blue'

The variety or subspecies (?) of Abies lasiocarpa native to Arizona features cultivars with lush blue foliage. 'Glacier Blue' is a favorite of mine and we produce by grafting onto Abies balsamea var. phanerolepis or Abies firma, even though all Abies species are compatible with each other, at least in the short run. I've never tried to root the blue form, only because it just doesn't “seem” like it would root, and to borrow a more low-land rootstock probably gives it a longer life in the garden anyway.

Abies koreocarpa 'Hurricane Blue'

Abies koreocarpa 'Hurricane Blue'

I collected two other cultivars of Abies lasiocarpa, 'Inga' and 'Hurricane Blue', and both originate from Europe to my knowledge. They looked identical, and after ten years of keeping them separate I discovered on the internet that they are one and the same...so I'll go with the 'Hurricane Blue' name. The selection forms a fantastic plump pyramid, dwarf but not terribly slow. However, the needles always looked different than with the typical Abies lasiocarpa var. arizonica, as they are more short and thin. Again, via the internet I learned that 'Hurricane Blue' is actually a hybrid with Abies koreana (x koreocarpa). Ah, that explains its look! Since we can easily root most Abies koreana cultivars, we have stuck 100 cuttings of the hybrid and I'll be most pleased if they strike root.

Tsuga mertensiana

Tsuga mertensiana

Tsuga mertensiana

I mentioned earlier that the western form of Abies lasiocarpa often grows together with Tsuga mertensiana, and one of my favorite places on earth is the western flank of Mt. Hood where just below timberline (about 5,000') delightful families of both species reside. They are narrow and spend most of their lives in snow. The T. mertensiana is a choice conifer for the garden (where hardy), and I quote a wonderful passage from Donald Culross Peattie's classic A Natural History of Western Trees: “A young Mountain hemlock is all feminine grace, with a long slender leader whose tip nods over...the arms are held out like a dancer's, and the smaller branches curve gracefully out and away and down, like the fingers of a hand extended but relaxed, and all the twigs are clothed in the bluish green of the softly shining foliage.”Yes, the young trees on Mt. Hood look like ballerinas, and at night I wonder if they dance to their own music.

Cupressus bakeri

Cupressus bakeri is known as the “Siskiyou cypress,” but botanically speaking we are now to call it Hesperocyparis bakeri, while other “experts” suggest it should be Callitropsis bakeri. I won't weigh in on that squabble but I do like the rare conifer. It is found in small populations in southern Oregon and northern California, growing on crappy serpentine or lava-flow soils, and so the slow-growing species has adapted to sites with little other tree competition. It is listed as an IUCN Red List “vulnerable species.” The foliage is fragrant, and the late Dr. Bump of Forest Grove, Oregon – an avid plantsman – told me an interesting story...that as he spent summer evenings in his garden he grew aware that his neighbor had taken up cigar smoking, at least one per night. Dr. Bump investigated and discovered that it wasn't his neighbor, rather it was his one Cupressus bakeri growing at the border of his garden that had taken up cigar smoking.

Sequoia sempervirens 'Henderson Blue'

Sequoia sempervirens 'Henderson Blue'

Sequoia sempervirens 'Kelly's Prostrate'

Let me squeeze in one additional conifer native to Oregon – Sequoia sempervirens – the “Coast redwood,” for it actually tip-toes 14 miles into Oregon's Chetco River drainage where it occurs in six small stands. From there it extends about 450 miles south into mid-California in a fog belt between 5 and 25 miles wide. The southern boundary is in the Soda Springs Creek area of the Santa Lucia Range where the rare Abies bracteata (“Bristlecone fir”) grows. We have a few cultivars of the redwood in the collection, some with blue foliage and 'Kelly's Prostrate' which stays low and spreading.

Sequoia sempervirens

The tallest redwood has been named “Hyperion.” It was discovered in 2006 in California and measures 379.3 ft (115.6 m), and its exact location is kept secret for its own protection. The discoverer, Michael Taylor, has documented 50 redwoods over 350 ft tall, and his efforts have inspired research and public interest, and has led to the establishment of a World Heritage Site. At the other end of the scale I have seen a fantastic bonsai specimen of coast redwood at the Pacific Rim Bonsai Collection which is located adjacent to the Rhododendron Species Botanical Garden in Washington state.

Sequoia sempervirens

Sequoia sempervirens

California foresters have documented amazing growth for the redwoods, and “Of all the world's vegetation types, mature redwood forest produces the greatest biomass per unit area – more than 1,400 metric tons per acre according to one study – and far more than the lushest of tropical rainforests.” The above quote is from Conifers of Californiaby Ronald Lanner.

Abies procera 'Silver'

Well, that's just a few of Oregon's conifers, and perhaps in the future I will continue the discussion. I have seen every one of Oregon's 32 and also all of California's 52, even though it gets a little more complicated due to naturally-occurring hybrids. In the meantime I look forward to new growth pushing on this winter's grafts, and roots developing on our conifer cuttings. At some point I will have my last propagation season.

From Genesis we read a few passages:

In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth...

Let there be light, and there was light...

And the evening and the morning were the first day...

I have tried to create a heaven upon my plot of earth, and after 40+ years of owning Buchholz Nursery I finally did the math, and I reckon I have put in about 14,650 days, as well as often working into the night. Some ex and some current employees have found nothing heavenlyabout their sentence here, and hell itself would be the summation of their term. Well, I haven't always enjoyed their company either. But if one shows up and labors within my gates, don't you think we can enjoy some mutual fun?

George Forrest

Pleione x confusa 'Golden Gate'

I should think so. Today, for example, we divided and multiplied our Pleione stock and I was pleased with our tally of 'Golden Gate', the relatively new “doer” yellow-flowered cultivar which features a fantastic red throat. The xconfusa species was originally collected by the Scotsman George Forrest in SW Yunnan, China and sent to J.C. Williams of Caerhays Castle, Cornwall, England in 1924. It was first considered to be Pleione forrestii but now is known to be a naturally occurring hybrid between P. forrestii and P. albiflora. I and other orchid aficionados have floundered with the straight P. forrestii species, but the hybrid is just as beautiful and it easily thrives in our growing conditions.

Androsace sempervivoides 'Susan Joan'

Androsace sempervivoides 'Susan Joan'

Speaking of fun, I noticed an order was pulled to be shipped soon of Androsace sempervivoides 'Susan Joan'. The delightful alpine is not in flower yet – we're about a month away – but the customer knows how special it will be. As you can see from the photo above, even a single florette can bloom, but we have our original start in a trough and it forms a dense mat which produces hundreds of flowers. As is apparent, the genus is in the Primulaceae family and it originated in the Himalaya. The 100-or-so species have now spread throughout Asian and European mountain systems such as the Caucasus, Alps and Pyrenees. The genus name Androsaceis from Greek androsakeswhich is a sea plant (probably a species of Acetabularia). The sempervivoidesspecies is from Kashmir and Tibet and is hardy to -30 F, and our specimen has succeeded in full sun. I don't know anything about Ms. Susan Joan, but I'm guessing that she is English, and the plant that bears her name received the RHS's Award of Garden Merit.

Cyclamen hederifolium 'Silver Cloud'

Cyclamen coum 'Something Magic'

My wife loves the Cyclamen genus – not the gaudy florist-shop hybrids with large blossoms – but rather the petite species sweethearts. I think they're great too, especially since they remind me of her. For Haruko's birthday last April I surprised her with seven new plants, a couple which are in flower today. I don't know much about them, for example: what's the difference between C. coum 'Christmas Tree Group' and C. purpurescens 'Christmas Tree'? Previously we had purchased starts of the patented (ugh!), tissue-culture-produced C. coum 'Something Magic'. We grew and sold them for two years, then inexplicably the producer discontinued it...perhaps because his other customers thought they had died when they went dormant. It's a company that brags about their hundreds of introductions, but they stick with very few of them. The business model is apparently “out with the old (not so very old) and in with the new,” and take them or leave them. Well, we currently buy nothing from this fellow Oregon company. Enough of their slick-magazine, color enhanced, hyped ephemeral product!

Acer saccharum 'Monumentale'

Acer saccharum 'Monumentale'

The pillar in the above scape is the improbable Acer saccharum 'Monumentale', the most narrowly columnar of all maples, and the photo was taken at the garden of the late Ed Rezek. Indeed, this monumental plantsman generously gave me a start of this cultivar back when it was very rare in the trade. Actually, it is still quite rare because I and others find it difficult to propagate, but any time I list one for sale – even at a high price – it is quickly snapped up. Besides the difficulty in propagation, in Oregon the needle-spire, unlike at Rezek's place, tends to boink out with lateral shoots which must be pruned back to maintain its columnar integrity. In the Flora Wonder Arboretum our specimens are above ladder size to maintain, and the project requires equipment-rental or a costly tree-service-company to perform. Of course, none of the upkeep sounds like any of the “flora fun” that I am highlighting...until you find it brilliantly aglow in a late October evening, and where the gardener receives just a minute of breathtaking glory before all fades into the dark of night.

Acer platanoides 'Rezek'

Acer platanoides 'Rezek'

Acer platanoides 'Rezek'

The same Mr. Rezek – who, sadly, I never got to know really well – also gave me a curious seedling of the “Norway maple,” Acer platanoides. It was also columnar but it possessed peculiarly crinkled leaves. The seedling arose in his garden, but in his neighborhood he could not source the mother tree. Prior to his gift to me, he had given others to certain plantsmen, and I think the cultivar of 'Curly Lamp Post' originated from the Rezek garden. While I temporarily named my individual seedling as Acer platanoides 'Rezek', I realized that the name was not nomenclaturally sound. Nevertheless I sold some as such and so the name is with us today. A few years later I employed a woman who previously worked at Carlton Nursery in Oregon, a company that grew thousands of shade trees, in particular cultivars of “Norway maple.” She pulled out a similarly twist-leaved individual that resembled the 'Curly Lamp Post' and my 'Rezek', which proves that the species can get weird at times. I named it 'Carlton' but did you follow all of that? The above cultivars are difficult to propagate, at least for me, but they are examples of where the plantsman can have a bit of perverse fun with his trees.

Edgeworthia chrysantha 'Gold Rush'

Edgeworthia chrysantha 'Gold Rush'

My wife opened the front door a few days ago to let the dog out, and she gasped when noticing that the Edgeworthia chrysantha 'Gold Rush' was in bloom. So surprising since it is still February (though not for long). For the entire time of our marriage I landscape using certain plants with her primarily in mind. I court her constantly with flora that I suppose will arouse her, just as the bowerbird builds a structure and decorates it with sticks and brightly colored objects in an attempt to attract his mate. Well, I guess I have already captured Haruko, but I still like to ornament the kitchen window with blossoms from the nursery, and I sneak them there when she will discover them later on her own, preferably when I am not around.

Edgeworthia chrysantha 'Akabana'

The Edgeworthia genus name honors Irishman Michael Markenham Edgeworth (1812-1881), an amateur botanist who worked for the East India Company, and for his sister, the writer Maria Edgeworth. In Japan the name is mitsu(three) mata(crotch), and if you examine a plant it actually does branch into three stems. The specific epithet of chrysantha is form Greek chrysosmeaning “golden” and anthosfor “flower.” Edgeworthia is native to the woodlands of the Himalaya and in China, and it is commonly named the “Chinese paperbush.” It is cultivated in Japan as a daphne-like ornamental and for the manufacture of high-class paper for currency.

Edgeworthia chrysantha 'Akabana'

Edgeworthia papyrifera 'Red Dragon'

The Hillier Manual of Trees and Shrubs describes Edgeworthia as a small genus with four species, but only lists chrysanthaand doesn't mention the other three, implying that papyriferais but a synonym for chrysantha. Roger Gossler in The Gossler Guide to the Best Hardy Shrubs, after describing E. chrysantha's flowers as “slightly scented” [I would call them highly scented] says of E. papyrifera, “The stems and foliage are small and golden yellow, but sadly they have no fragrance.” I grow the cultivar 'Red Dragon' and I list it as a papyrifera since I got my start from Gossler. I also grow the very similar 'Akabana' which came to me as a chrysantha. In fact, when I first acquired it the name was 'Akebono' which means “dawn” in Japanese, but the correct name is 'Akabana' which means “red flower.” A mistake I made earlier in my career was to graft 'Red Dragon' and 'Akabana' onto E. chrysantha, but the rootstock will sucker until the end of time. Maybe that's not so bad though, as the colors red and yellow go nicely together.

Camellia williamsii 'Water Lily'

Camellia japonica 'Nuccio's Pearl'

Great floral fun can be found in GH23 with a variety of Camellias in bloom. At home I planted C. williamsii 'Water Lily' and C. japonica 'Nuccio's Pearl' on the north side of the house. My thinking was that we could walk out on the upper deck and look down upon them...and then eventually the bushes would grow up to eye level. In my greenhouse 'Waterlily' blooms before 'Nuccio's Pearl', but outside, at least this year, the 'Pearl' went first. They're both in full flower now, but as far as walking out on the deck, we don't because it's too damn cold.

Rhododendron 'Pink Snowflakes'

Rhododendron 'Pink Snowflakes'

In the same greenhouse is a group of Rhododendron 'Pink Snowflakes' blooming their hearts out. The photo was taken yesterday, but I'm saddened that most are yet to be shipped, and if the customers don't get with it they'll likely have to hold them over until next year. That's the problem with flowering plants like some magnolias and witch hazels, that our cold-area customers – which most are – are still in the midst of winter with no customers of their own yet. Back to the 'Pink Snowflakes', I cannot think of any Rhododendron more cute, and when in flower 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 F, USDA zone 7.

Pinus contorta 'Chief Joseph'

Pinus contorta 'Chief Joseph'

Pinus contorta 'Chief Joseph'

We have been enjoying the stunning yellow foliage of Pinus contorta 'Chief Joseph', a pine discovered in the Wallowa Mountains of northeast Oregon by the late Doug Will. The contorta species is notnative to my area; a subspecies grows along the Oregon Coast and another in the Cascade Mountains and further east to the Wallowas. I can and do grow green cultivars of the mountain group, but 'Chief Joseph's' yellow needles develop a crud by the end of February, and a month from now they'll look even worse. We grow it anyway, even with only about 50% success at propagation, because it is in high demand. I constantly remind my grafter to not worry about the low rate – she usually achieves 90% success on other two-needle pines – because not many other nurseries bother with it and we are able to get a very good price for ours.

Pinus cembroides 'Pina Nevada'

Pinus cembroides 'Pina Nevada'

Another pine that is stunning in winter is Pinus cembroides 'Pina Nevada', but it's a non-event the rest of the year. My original two starts are growing in the arboretum, gifted to me about 20 years ago by the late director of the North Carolina State Arboretum, J.C. Raulston. I walk past my specimens a couple times per week and always pause a few moments to marvel at the gorgeous variegation. Visitors wonder where my rows of hundreds are kept, but I don't grow many because there's no perfect rootstock for the Mexican “stone” pine. The originals are grafted onto Pinus strobus and we have also used Pinus strobiformis, but less than half will live past their fifth year. Besides, you have to leave a portion of unsightly rootstock on the grafts for a few years or else you'll lose them all. Hillier describes the species with “Leaves normally in 3s, but varying from 2-5 on some trees.”After reading that I just got the idea that maybe I should try a 2-needle rootstock like Pinus mugo.

Pinus cembroides 'Pina Nevada'

Hillier doesn't mention 'Pina Nevada', but it is listed in the recent RHS Encyclopedia of Conifers by Auders and Spicer. Unfortunately the photo is from a distance and taken of my tree in May so there's no apparent variegation. Hillier describes the cembroides species as having cones 6 cm (2.36 in) long, containing large, edible seeds. My trees produce plenty of first-year cones but I've never seen them develop beyond that. Hmm – maybe I should go out and look more closely. Ok, I did find one older cone, but it is only a round one-inch size. Cute though.

After nearly 500 blogs, I sometimes find that I repeat repeat myself, and I wondered if I have ever used the blog title of Flora Fun before. I used the search bar at the blog beginning and discovered one blog entitled Loads of Fun. Click here if you're still having trouble getting to sleep.

I published my first wholesale nursery catalog in 1984, four years after I purchased (on mortgage) my plot just south of Forest Grove, Oregon, and where I began my initial acquisitions and propagations. I went forth and multiplied, subduing the weeds and other adversaries. I had no money and a huge debt already, so I worked at other nurseries by day, and upon my own at night and weekends; but even when one is able to commit to 80+ hour workweeks and a life-and-death worry-obsession with commercial survival, there's still no guarantee that you will succeed. Before my first catalog I would type out – no computers then – on a sheet of paper what I had to sell, then take it to a printer to get a couple hundred copies. These would be folded in half, taped closed, then addressed by hand and mailed to nurseries listed in the Oregon nursery directory. That was a lot of work for someone still working full time for another nursery, but fortunately I was able to sell just about everything I could propagate.

Buchholz was a very different nursery back then, with all sales being lining-out stock to other wholesale growers. I was a self-taught grafter and I provided higher-end plants to growers who could enhance their otherwise mundane product lines. Plus, I would seek out new plants, like dwarf Tsuga cultivars, and I could offer rooted cuttings to my customers. In 1984 a Seattle-area nursery discovered me and asked to purchase some of my older plants. There wasn't much I wanted to part with, but we did put together a small order and he left happy. I have sold plants to this nursery every year since, the most recent shipment last week, and now the daughter has me wrapped around her finger due to her professional, happy demeanor. We still sell liners, but 90% of our income now comes from specimen sales to independent garden stores like my first Seattle customer. We have never, nor ever will, sell to box stores.

John Mitsch

I admit that I was in the right place at the right time to build a wholesale nursery, and I shamelessly copied what John Mitsch was doing in Oregon, except I could also offer, unlike Mitsch Nursery, grafted liners. Labor was plentiful and relatively inexpensive, unlike now, and my first full-time employee began in 1985. Lets take a look at what Buchholz was peddling in the early years:

First, note from the pages above that I was grafting a lot of “species” Picea (spruce) and Pinus (pine), as well as cultivars of others. Picea breweriana is one example of a species that could not be found in the trade in the early 1980s. My start came from the Hoyt Arboretum in Portland, Oregon, and they still have about 10 specimens planted on a steep hillside. They are of seedling origin and do well because of the sharp drainage. Seedling P. breweriana flounders at my nursery because my soil is too heavy, besides the trees are extremely slow growing. Scions grafted onto the vigorous, more adaptable “Norway spruce” (Picea abies) thrive and still retain their weeping character, and I have two such trees in my front yard, each about 30 years old, and they would need 60 years from seed to attain equal size.

Picea breweriana

The Hoyt P. breweriana were away from the road and inaccessible to the public, and when I requested permission to cut I thought I would be left alone. But nooo, a pregnant assistant accompanied me to assure that I would behave myself, and she insisted that I cut from the back side of the trees. Due to the slope there were no good scions, but I did cut a few feeble shoots. Later, alone, I returned to harvest what I wanted from the higher ground, and I promise I didn't ruin any of their trees, not at all.

Picea morrisonicola

Picea morrisonicola

Picea morrisonicola was not in the trade in 1984. I explained before that I was a tree collector first and a nurseryman as a necessary evil. An exotic spruce from Taiwan with slender, short green needles is something I wanted in my collection, and I still have a nice specimen in my Conifer Field. It is plump, dense and pyramidal so far, much more ornamentally attractive than the scrappy trees from the wild depicted in Conifers Around The Worldby Debreczy and Racz. These two Hungarian tree experts indicate that “Picea morrisonicola is one of the southernmost spruces of the world along with P. farreri of Yunnan and Burma/Myanmar.”I acquired the Picea farreri last winter, so you see that I am still collecting rare species for my own enjoyment.

Pinus bungeana

Pinus bungeana

I quickly fell in love with Pinus bungeana, the “Chinese Lacebark pine,” and no one else was offering grafts or seedlings of it, and so I had the market to myself. One winter I grafted (onto Pinus strobus) and sold nearly 1,000 P. bungeana, but the pent-up desire for it has waned and all I propagate now are named cultivars such as 'Great Wall', 'Silver Ghost' and 'Temple Gem', with the latter being a semi-dwarf cultivar discovered and introduced by Buchholz Nursery. About 15 trees of P. bungeana were planted in my field, and after a dozen years in business a lot of East-coast buyers had discovered my nursery, and they were anxious to buy my specimens. I stridently offered them for sale at $1,000 each and would not negotiate for less. I admitted that they were not worth that price at the time, but soon enough they would be, and where else will you find them? That winter we suffered a devastating ice storm and I discovered just how brittle the P. bungeana branches could be. I cleaned them up as best I could, and when they had recovered a few years later I sold them for far less than $1,000, my smugness having been soundly tempered.

Picea pungens 'Bakeri'

Picea pungens 'Prostrata'

Besides my fun species plants, I propagated blue spruce cultivars by the thousands, and these starts were my bread-and-butter which allowed me to make mortgage payments, increase the nursery size and to feed my family. Nine cultivars of Picea pungens were offered: 'Bakeri', 'Fat Albert', 'Foxtail', 'Globosa', 'Hoopsi'[sic], 'Kosteri', 'Montgomery', 'Pendula' and 'Prostrata'. We still graft blue spruce, but none of the nine above. They became a glut on the market as other nurseries joined in the propagation frenzy, and besides, the pungens species is not a doer in many hot, humid portions of the USA. As a consequence, none of the nine are even in the collection anymore.

Of all of the one-year conifer graft prices the range was $2.50-$3.50. I cut every scion and grafted every tree myself so I couldn't blame anyone else if the graft didn't take. The prices were set at whatever I felt I could get away with back then, and since all orders were custom-produced my only fear was too many no-takes and a disappointed customer. As I said before we still sell liners, but ending the custom part is a welcome relief. After 40 years, my prices have tripled overall while my costs have more than quadrupled; try to figure out that math!

Genista pilosa

My cheapest cutting was $0.15 for Genista pilosa and I still have a huge mat of it in the original Display Garden. I eventually discontinued because a dwarf hemlock went for $0.30, and nursery space and time dictated that I produce something more valuable. Besides, the Genista has a limited “shelf-life” that does not extend past a one-gallon pot. Think of it like a tomato plant at the garden center. They are usually sold in a 4” pot or at most a one-gallon pot. You never see a ten-year-old tomato in a 20” cedar box like you do with our maples that go for about $100 at that age. My policy of trying to stick with plants that are worth more and more as they age keeps me from burning crops if they don't sell, like my bankrupt neighbor did when confronted with over-supply in a weak “commodity” market. Well, he made more money than I did in the exuberant years, but his business model failed in trying times. Keep in mind that he was smarter than I – or at least he thought so...no, knewso! – but I'm still here and he is kaput.

Acer shirasawanum 'Aureum'

Acer shirasawanum 'Aureum'

The history of Buchholz Nursery would be far different without my fortuitous connection with the late J.D. Vertrees. His seminal publication of Japanese Maplesin 1978 opened my eyes to a world of wonder, and I made a pilgrimage to his Maplewood Nursery in Roseburg, Oregon in 1980. I shut my mouth and respectfully listened to his opinions and advice. He was known to be crotchety with fools so I made a concerted effort to notbe foolish. I also purchased my first six maple cultivars at his rather high mail-order price, and I made sure that one of them was his introduction of Acer palmatum 'Kamagata'. Another maple was Acer japonicum 'Aureum' which has since been correctly identified as Acer shirasawanumnot a japonicumat all. Subsequent editions of Japanese Maplesactually feature myphotograph of myoriginal tree, but photo credit is given to Peter Gregory...and in other instances photo credit is given to me when I was not at all responsible. I'm certain that the publisher, Timber Press of Portland, Oregon, has no desire to hear of their petty mistakes, and would probably assume that the “whoever that Buchholz is”is probably the one in error. In any case, I still consider that my greatest achievement in horticulture was that Mr. Vertrees had difficulty propagating Acer shirasawanum 'Aureum' and he actually purchased grafts from me to fill his orders. JDV left our world too soon, and I would give anything if he could come back to visit for a day and witness my promise “to keep the nomenclature correct,” which was the primary goal of his publication in the first place. Yes, I have been fortunate in my career.

Acer palmatum 'Bloodgood'

Acer palmatum 'Ukigumo'

In 1984 I listed 49 cultivars of Acer palmatum in addition to the few other maple species that I offered. Some were sold for $2.50 apiece, such as 'Bloodgood', 'Oshio beni', 'Crimson Queen' and the like, those cultivars that could possibly be purchased elsewhere...all the way up to $5.75 for 'Aka shigitatsu sawa', 'Ruby Lace' and 'Ukigumo' for those and other cultivars that could not be so easily acquired. Again, I performed custom-propagation, so if potential customers felt that $5.75 was too much for a maple graft, they were under no compulsion to order. The market decided if my prices were valid or not, while my main concern was that whatever they were charged – from $2.50 to $5.75 – they got “value” for a sturdy, well-grown tree. Even to this day I constantly monitor the plants that we prepare for shipment, and I describe myself as my customers' advocate because...well, I can't fully trust my own employees to do the job.

Berberis thunbergii 'Aurea'

Berberis thunbergii 'Aurea'

I don't have record of where I first acquired Berberis thunbergii 'Aurea' but in 1984 I was offering cuttings of such as $0.20 each. The selection could withstand full sun in Oregon's 100F summers, fairly well anyway. We sold a thousand or so to a number of wholesale growers, an amount we could easily provide. Then suddenly the M. Nursery company of California wished to purchase 5,000 cuttings and we promised to “do” what we could, and I think we provided 2,300. The following year we got our number up to 3,200, and held that even for the third year. By the fourth year there was noorder, and no response to my queries about future production; for you see, they were then doing their own cuttings from our initial supply. A few years later they wanted to order two of this and three of that – literally – to “see how they would do” before they committed to more. I declined and made an important observation: that even giant, well-known companies could be comprised of little, and at best mediocre people.

Ulmus glabra 'Camperdownii'

Ulmus glabra 'Camperdownii'

Ulmus glabra 'Camperdownii' is listed in our first catalog and oddly we were one of the few who offered rooted cuttings when typically it is top-grafted. When grafted the union is gnarly and unsightly during the winter months, so I think one should graft low and train a branch upward to achieve the umbrella shape. We rooted the 'Camperdownii' for a few years to bypass the whole process of obtaining rootstocks to graft, and our percent to strike root was between 30-50%, not great but at least we had trees to grow on. The crops were never consistent, with some of the propagules hesitant to put on much growth, while others zoomed skyward. A rooted cutting was priced at $0.45, higher than most, otherwise our efforts would be unprofitable. I tired of the whole business eventually so I could focus on what was truly making a profit, but at least you know that rooting can be done.

Cotoneaster microphyllus 'Cooperi'

We used to top-graft dwarf Cotoneaster using C. bullatus as the standard. My favorite head was C. microphyllus 'Cooperi', a slow, creeping evergreen cultivar with dark green leaves and small white flowers that develop into tiny red fruits. It was a cute package but unfortunately 'Cooperi' is barely hardy at my nursery. Another top was a dwarf form of C. apiculatus, 'Tom Thumb', and though it made a neat head it was always sparse to produce fruit. Though the C. bullatus rootstock grew into a straight stem, often the weight of the head would cause the standard to lean, so every one that we ever grew and sold was accompanied with a support stake. I sold some to a nursery with three brothers about my age. They enlisted their father to pick up the order, an old duffer who was into general farming but wasn't too familiar with horticulture. He had a disapproving look on his face because he thought he would be picking up maple and conifer grafts. Finally he quipped, “Why did they order this brush?” I replied, “What, don't you want it?” Father B. chuckled, 'No no no – if they ordered it, put it on.” I gave up on the Cotoneaster long ago, mainly because the rootstock was not hardy for most of my customers, so maybe a younger nurseryman would like to resume propagating the brush.

So, what's with the catalog cover of the old man walking down the path with the young kid? The drawing was by my friend, the artist Elizabeth Bishop. The child was my first born, Sonya, and the old guy was a hybrid between Mrs. Bishop's old husband, and the man that I would eventually become. Note that we are pausing next to my favorite conifer, a Tsuga mertensiana. I'm somewhat stooped now too, but I don't sport a beard and I've kept a little more hair on my dome. I became a nurseryman by default, because it seemed to be the only thing I was able to do.

Greg Williams

Greg Williams is a noted plantsman and the long-time proprietor of Kate Brook Nursery in Vermont. He would be better known if he promoted himself but that's not going to happen; also he would probably cringe to know that I'm writing about him, but since he claims to eschew computer use and correspondence, he will likely never read this blog. Greg is long in the tooth now, but mutual friend Dave Veinotte of Nova Scotia visited his nursery in October, 2019, and reports that Greg is as mentally sharp as ever.

Pseudotsuga menziesii 'Graceful Grace'

I first met Mr. Williams about 30 years ago at an IPPS (International Plant Propagators Society) meeting in Portland, Oregon, then shortly thereafter at an IPPS gathering in Philadelphia. After the Philly conference Greg ferried me about the Pennsylvania countryside to visit various nurseries, arboreta and interesting trees. It was on this trip that I saw the “largest Sequoiadendron east of the Mississippi...”which isn't saying much so I didn't bother documenting it with a photo. Another tree, but of greater interest was a weeping Douglas fir, Pseudotsuga menziesii 'Graceful Grace', growing at a Masonic home along with other interesting conifers. Greg sent me scionwood of the cultivar and I have an old specimen in the Flora Wonder Arboretum.

Pseudotsuga menziesii 'Graceful Grace'

The original 'Graceful Grace' was eventually destroyed to make way for an enlarged parking lot, a criminal act if you ask me. Also criminal is my goon neighbor who gets hopped up on meth and occasionally vandalizes my property, for one night he smashed into smithereens another 'Graceful Grace' with his tractor to prove he wore the big pants in the area. He was confronted by the sheriff and admitted to the malfeasance but said he believed the tree I planted was on his property. A subsequent survey demonstrated that the tree was actually 15' on my property, but it's now dead and the cops consider it a “civil matter.” Obviously nothing can possibly be “civil” when dealing with such a dick, especially accompanied with wimpy law enforcement.

Pinus strobus 'Mini Twists'

Pinus strobus 'Mini Twists'

Pinus strobus 'Tiny Kurls'

Quite a number of Pinus cultivars came to me due to the generosity of Greg Williams, and he often referred to his gifts as “something I might like to try.” In his garden he grew a Pinus strobus 'Horsham' which originated as a witch's broom, and which was noteworthy for producing lots of cones. A Pinus strobus 'Torulosa' was planted nearby, a large-growing tree with curiously twisted needles. Greg raised a number of seedlings from the 'Horsham' mother tree, and a percentage of them would display the twisted needles. Three of the more-dwarf offspring were set aside and starts were given to other plantsmen. Robert Fincham was one recipient, and he was given permission to name and propagate them, and Fincham writes in Small Conifers for Small Gardens, “I named the slowest growing seedling 'Mini Twists'. The faster growing seedling, called 'Tiny Kurls' by [his wife] Dianne, was introduced first. The fastest growing seedling of the three never became popular and wasn't given a name.” For me, however, 'Mini Twists' is larger than 'Tiny Kurls', and I grew some of the former to 4' tall by 7' wide before I sold them. As far as the third seedling which “wasn't given a name,” I grew it also and named it 'Vercurve', as in a conifer from Vermont with curved needles. It is also in the trade because I sold hundreds to another Oregon grower when we used to produce custom liners. In The Hillier Manual of Trees and Shrubs2019, 'Mini Twists' is not mentioned but 'Tiny Kurls' is, and it is described as a “seedling of 'Torulosa' [rong] raised by A. Sherwood, USA...[also very rong],”for Andy Sherwood, whom I was related to, was long dead before Greg raised his seedlings. Even the RHS's relatively new Encyclopedia of Conifers by Auders and Spicer repeat the error.

Acer circinatum 'WB Hoyt'

Acer circinatum 'WB Hoyt'

Acer circinatum 'WB Hoyt'

Speaking of errors I might be spouting them also, because I don't have all of the details about every start that Greg sent to me; in other words, was Greg the first to actually make the discovery, or was he perhaps with someone else who saw it first? For example Greg was with a companion when they were visiting the Hoyt Arboretum in Portland, and he reported seeing a witch's broom on an Acer circinatum. He described the location, and that it was growing right beside the road, a road I had passed at least 50 times before without notice. I returned to the low-lying broom at propagation time and snipped a few scions during our maple propagation season, and I christened it (poorly) as 'WB Hoyt', which was intended as a temporary name, but it stuck when I either sold or gave some away. The late maple author, Peter Gregory of England was pleased when I showed him the broom, but wisely it was not included in his book Japanese Maples, Timber Press 2009.

Quercus rubra 'Greg's Variegated'

Quercus rubra 'Greg's Variegated'

Williams sent a start of a variegated Quercus rubra, but I don't know if he discovered the “Red oak” on his property or in the wild. Greg is somewhat of a recluse so I'll probably never know, but I like it enough that we produce a couple of hundred per year now, and I named it 'Greg's Variegated'. We propagate using a side graft and the plants grow vigorously; however I have been warned that Q. rubra can exhibit some delayed incompatibility, at least with some cultivars. I turned to my go-to manual, The Benchcrafter's Handbook by Brian Humphrey (CRC Press, 2019) and read, “Q. rubra rootstock generally appears reliable for Q. rubra cultivars, though not totally confirmed because some* assert Q. rubra cultivars are not compatible on Q. rubra rootstocks.”I'd certainly hate to be cursed in the future as the Oregon knucklehead who foisted incompatible grafts to the trade.

*The “some” indicated in the footnote is Brian Upchurch of North Carolina in 2009.

Magnolia 'Kiki's Broom'

Magnolia 'Kiki's Broom'

Magnolia 'Kiki's Broom'

Haruko

Kiki

Though widely recognized as a conifer expert, Williams also sent to me scions of a Magnolia witch's broom, and he supposed that it was hosted on a M. x soulangeana. It looked to me to be so, but since I'm not really a Magnolia man myself, I skipped the specific epithet when I propagated and sold it. Williams also would not epithetinize it because he was not a Magnolia man either. Needing a name, and not getting guidance from Williams, I named it M. 'Kiki's Broom', and now I see it listed in the trade as M. x soulangeana 'Kiki's Broom', so I suppose others are more certain of its identity than I. In any case we propagate by rooted cuttings in summer, or by grafting onto M. kobus in winter. The propagules are not really dwarf, and a ten-year-old specimen – via a graft – can reach 4' tall by 5' wide in 10-to-12 years. I flippantly chose the cultivar name of 'Kiki's Broom' because my young children (half Japanese) were then fascinated with Hayao Miyazaki's animated movie about a cute Japanese pixie-witch who provided a delivery service via a magic broom. Honestly, I never wanted to be the namer of this cultivar – it was neither my duty nor privilege to do so – but I filled the void with 'Kiki's Broom'. If you are able to watch this delightful film (which is easily available) you will fall totally in love with this cutsie's character. There are many similarities between Kiki and my wife, both very loveable.

Pinus strobus 'Louie'

Pinus strobus 'Louie'

As I page through my Master Plant List I find Kate Brook Nursery as my source very often, especially with Pinus strobus cultivars. Besides the popular Pinus strobus 'Mini Twists' I received 21 additional cultivars of Pinus strobus from Greg. Most have been discontinued due to poor sales, and many are not even in the collection anymore. Some golden forms like 'Hillside Winter Gold' didn't sell well because it was never gold enough. I drive past one every day that was planted on property I used to lease, and the anemic 40' tree looks pathetic. 'National Life' was discovered growing in an insurance company's landscape, but it would burn in my nursery. 'Louie' is a more worthy cultivar which should be planted in full sun for best color. The tree is kind of two-toned, with the long thin inner needles being greenish, a perfect foil for the shimmering golden newer foliage. Greg found 'Louie' as a seedling in Hyde Park, Vermont and introduced it in 1993, but I have no clue who it was named for.

Pinus strobus 'Stowe Pillar'

Pinus strobus 'Bennett's Fastigiate'

Abies balsamea 'Tyler Blue'

Williams provided scions of Abies balsamea 'Tyler Blue' but for some reason it didn't perform well for me. In the field the trees were inconsistent with some growing ok, while others went heavily to seed and then dying a year or two later. A better performer is Abies balsamea 'Eugene Gold', and amazingly the thin golden needles can take full sun when established. We have grown it in the past as 'Eugene Yellow', but since he sent me the scions I don't know which of us was mixed up. In any case it originated when Greg propagated from a yellow mutation, and for me it has never reverted back to green. A high percentage will strike roots from winter cuttings, and they will begin their early years by growing flat, but eventually a leader will develop unless you don't want one.

All of the starts Greg sent to me were free of charge, and I appreciated that he would cut scions, pack and ship with complete generosity. Keep in mind that harvesting scions in Vermont's winter snow meant digging to get to the dwarf trees. I reflect back to all who assisted me in my career; without plant friends like Greg I would have had a boring life selling insurance or as an undertaker perhaps.

The following article appeared in the Maple Society* Newsletter, spring 2021:

“I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way.

Voltaire

The Editor of the Maple Society Newsletter, Hugh Angus, asked me to present a history of Buchholz Nursery, and he suggests that it “would be good and more importantly enjoyed by members.” Honestly, I groaned at the assignment, probably less optimistic about what you members will enjoy! Furthermore, I'm sure that Mr. Angus holds an off-kilter imagination about my nursery when he describes it as “one of the biggest and best nurseries in the USA.” It is neither, by far. To assist me, the Editor offers eleven topics that my article could include. Let's take a look at each of these:

When did you start the nursery?

In 1979 I bought 25 acres of good soil with a miserable little house, hot in the summer and freezing in the winter.

What did you focus on in the early years?

I focused on financial survival. I had a mortgage and no money to invest; and really a nursery “business” was a necessary evil, as a means to collect and observe plants, all of which would have been more simple and far less stressful if I had been independently wealthy. To pull it off I worked full-time for the Dutchman's nursery and the neighbor's start-up nursery for the first six years while getting my company off the ground.

When did maples become important to the nursery?

From before the beginning. Since the early 1970s I worked at a large wholesale nursery that produced thousands of “plebeian” plants – Alberta spruce, Mugo pines, hybrid Rhododendrons and the like. That company also grew a smattering of red-laceleaf maples, probably Acer palmatum 'Ornatum', and at the time I was unaware of the concept of a “cultivar,” and that there was a plethora of other cultivated selections of maples. When I discovered the 1978 Timber Press publication of Japanese Maplesby J.D. Vertrees it changed my life forever. What a coincidence that Vertrees was from Oregon also, and even more remarkable was that his sister and her husband owned the 25 acres that I had recently purchased. Perhaps I was destined, then, to grow maples.

How many maples do you now produce on an annual basis?

These days we produce about 30,000 - 40,000 each year. Some are raised from seed and are sold as seedlings, such as seedlings from Acer palmatum 'Mikawa yatsubusa' where about 25% display the short internodes of the mother tree. Those that are more-normal palmatum-like become rootstock. Other varieties are produced via rooted cuttings under mist in summer such as Acer palmatums 'Goshiki kotohime', 'Emerald Lace' and 'Orange Dream'. We graft approximately 30-35,000 named cultivars onto seedling rootstock in July, August and September. Understand that not every seed germinates, nor does every cutting strike root, and certainly not every graft “takes” (i.e. is successful). Just as well, for we are always behind dealing with the ones that do make it.

Acer palmatum 'Beni sazanami'

How many different cultivars do you sell.

About 300, maybe more, but it wouldn't really matter if it was 200 or 500. Some I keep around as old friends, where I produce only 25 every two or three years, such as Acer palmatums 'Omato' and 'Beni sazanami'. There is no valid commercial reason to do so, however.

Acer palmatum 'Purple Ghost'

What is the process of selection for sale?

There is no formal “process” in my case. Perhaps there should be. I try to not have too many or too few, but my crystal ball faded out at the beginning. If I like a cultivar, then that is usually good enough. But not always.

Colobanthus quitensis

Davidia involucrata 'Lady Sunshine'

Pleione x confusa 'Golden Gate'

What other plants do you specialize in?

We grow three groups of plants: 1) maples, 2) conifers and 3) everything else. The third group is probably the most interesting as it ranges from Pleione orchids to variegated Davidia cultivars to alpine plants. Buchholz Nursery grows plants from all seven continents – yes, Antarctica too (Colobanthus quitensis) – and our company motto is Plants From The Best Corners Of The World.

What are your aims – quality or quantity?

Again, quantity doesn't matter to me at all. As for quality I would give my nursery a “B” grade, and it's a hell of an effort to keep it at that level.

Acer palmatum 'Shishigashira'

What sort of sizes do you sell, best sellers?

That's two questions. For sizes we sell plants in small pots from $1.25 each (about 1 Euro) up to a $10,000 tree. For best sellers...hmm, I don't know how to answer that because it always changes.

Flora Wonder Arboretum

The importance of the arboretum to the nursery?

For my employees, the “arboretum” is an unnecessary black hole of the company profit, and the funds would be better spent on employee raises. For me, every plant member of the Flora Wonder Arboretum is my family. I don't love every plant equally however, and if one gives me trouble I can always kick it off the ark. I am the arboretum and it is me. At some point I will go cold turkey and never tend to a plant again. I look forward to freedom from my beautiful prison.

The Buchholz Family, 2012

The next question – will your girls take on the nursery eventually?

I have four daughters, and I can answer for all of them: “No way.” “Hell no.” “Are you kidding?” “Pops – you're losing it.” My one son already has a better-paying career, so not him either. Perhaps someone in the readership would like to take it on.

*Visit www.maplesociety.org and become a member!

 Here we are, already in April and in the thick of shipping. Seth runs the order show and Eric sends out the invoices, while I'm in the back room counting all the money. Spring is go-time, and rather than pestering Seth with a new blog, I've decided to re-run Species of Maples Named for People from 2012:

Acer palmatum

Acer japonicum

Acer carpinifolium

Acer morifolium

Acer shirasawanum 'Kawaii'

Acer shirasawanum 'Kawaii'

Acer shirasawanum 'Johin'

Lilium leichtlinii var. maximowiczii

Acer tschonoskii

Acer tschonoskii

Acer pictum 'Usugumo'

Acer mandshuricum

Acer davidii 'Hanshu suru'

Acer davidii 'George Forrest'

Acer davidii 'George Forrest'

Acer davidii 'George Forrest'

Dali, Yunnan, China

Yunnan, China

Acer fabri

Acer fabri

 If you look up buchholznursery.com and click on our plants, you'll be able to continue with Explore Our Plant Library. Then, you are warned in lurid red type: “Although our Plant Library contains thousands of interesting and hard to find plants, please understand that we do not necessarily offer all of these for sale. Please consult our availability listings for current stock.” In fact, not all of the plants with photos and descriptions are even in the collection any more, nor were some ever included. Gripers have opined that it makes no sense, that why do I titillate with photos but then not deliver?

Dracaena draco - Never Grown at Buchholz Nursery

Dracaena draco

What happened is the same that occurred with the fantastic horticultural reference book, The Hillier Manual of Trees and Shrubs, which I consult nearly every day. Robert Hillier explains in the Foreword of the 2019 edition (9^th): “The origin of the HMTS was the Hillier Nurseries 1964 Centenary catalogue and the manual was originally intended by my father [Sir Harold Hillier] to list all of the plants grown and offered for sale by the nursery. However, it eventually extended to become a comprehensive record of hardy woody plants available in the temperate regions.” Likewise my photo library morphed into an autobiography, a record of the plants I have seen. That explanation seems consistent with my philosophy previously stated, that one never really “owns” a tree – even if it grows on your property – you merely “borrow” it for a period of time. I doubt that your/my property will follow you/me to heaven either: for it belongs equally to the birds, the bees and the deer that eat the trees.

Trachycarpus fortunei

Trachycarpus fortunei

Today's blog will explore some of my encounters, but just those plants which I have never grown myself. I'm not sure, but maybe that's the majority of entries in the library. Consider Trachycarpus fortunei, a palm tree I have never grown, and one that I never will. I have nothing against it – the trunk and leaves are highly ornamental – but it's just not my kind of tree. The “Windmill palm” has become popular in Oregon's suburban landscapes, and indeed my sister has an old specimen in her landscape, but I don't think it would pair well with my Abies, Acer species, Magnolias etc., so I would never plant one even if it was given to me for free. It's not surprising, I guess, that the palm is now featured in many plantings in the McDonald's burger-joint landscapes in western Oregon, usually accompanied with Phormium cultivars. I suppose the fast-food corporation has deduced that these plants actually whet your appetite for their grub, as if more fun can be had when consuming greasy french fries served under exotic flora.                        Dah                     

                                                                                           Dah Dah Dah         Dah. I'm loving it.

Rhododendron jiangangshanicum

Rhododendron jiangangshanicum

I grow a lot of special Rhododendrons in my garden, but my collection pales to that of the Rhododendron Species Botanical Garden in Washington state. There I saw R. jiangangshanicum with a specific epithet that would be a chore to chat about. I don't know where the type specimen was discovered, nor by whom, but jiang means “river” in Chinese while shan is “mountain.” The Yangtse River, the third longestin the world, is known as Chanjiang (“long river”).

Rhododendron indicum 'Kinu no hikari'

Rhododendron indicum 'Kinu no hikari'

Rhododendron indicum's name was coined by Linnaeus, but while the epithet means “from India” the evergreen azalea/rhododendron is actually native to southern Japan, and so naturally I wonder what Carolus L. was thinking, what was his informational source? The flowers can vary, as seen above, and so too Hillier calls it a “variable species with numerous forms.” It barely squeaks by in hardiness in my area so I have never pursued it, however the slightly more benign Washington botanic garden provides a more doable location. The cultivar name of'Kinu no hikari'is Japanese for kinu (silk) no (of) hikari (light), where Kinuis often used as a girl's name. Kinu - “Keeenuko”- for “little silk,” what a sweet child's name. The photos above were taken at the Pacific Rim Bonsai Collection which is housed adjacent to the Rhododendron garden, and definitely the two provide a double-dose of botanical excitement. Allow a full day to see both, then return at least once a month for at least a full year...then for another and another because you'll never tire of the place.

Acer buergerianum 'Hana chiru sato'

Acer buergerianum 'Hime toyo nishiki'

Acer buergerianum 'Inazuma nishiki'

Acer buergerianum 'Tricolor'

Acer buergerianum is a small deciduous tree that one would suppose is native to Japan – due to a number of interesting cultivars discovered and propagated there – yet actually it originates in eastern China and the Korean peninsula and not to Japan at all. I have accumulated a modest number of these selections, yet I also lack quite a few. I know where to acquire more cultivars, but frankly my career is winding down, so encountering them, if only seeing a particular clone for a few moments, that is enough to satisfy me, i.e. a “borrowed” glimpse is all I need at this point. I should be proud that some of my photos are included in the Vertrees/Gregory Japanese Maples publication (4^th edition, 2009), but some of these selections have never been grown on my property, and in fact I witnessed most at Masayoshi Yano's fabulous maple collection near Nara, Japan. So, don't come to me to find 'Hana chiru sato' because I have never grown one, but I do relish my photo. Likewise, my encounters of A.b. 'Hime toyo nishiki', 'Inazuma nishiki' and 'Tricolor' that are found on my website, these also have never been grown here.

Heinrich Burger

The buergerianum epithet honors Heinrich Burger (1804-1858) who discovered the species while stationed in Dejima Island, Japan, and the honor was bestowed by the Dutch botanist Friedrich Miquel (1811-1871). The lay maple aficionado would probably have preferred to keep the name Acer trifidum which Hooker used to describe the three-lobed leaves. I have read that “the leaves are strongly polymorphic.” (in DeBeaulieu's An Illustrated Guide to Maples), but I don't think any more so than with Acer palmatum and some other Acer species that have given rise to the thousands of cultivars which fascinate us, many selected for their fantastic leaf variations.

R. Hatch

Hebe 'Red Edge'

My friend, R. Hatch, still gardens enthusiastically (at age 86) with his eclectic collection of cultivated individuals. His 1/3-acre landscape is a busy congregation of plants with unusual colors, shapes and textures, and though his ground lacks a theme or an artistic flow, the visitor can keep busy for an hour or two just trying to mentally document all that it contains. A delightfully-colored Hebe caught my attention a couple of years ago – Hebe 'Red Edge'– then I stared at it again for a few moments during last month's visit...and I have to admire and applaud Hatch with his acquisitions, even if all the pieces don't actually mix and match. R. kept the retail label under the little bush because he knew that I'd certainly, at some point, demand to know the shrub's identity, and it read Hebe albicans 'Red Edge'. Hillier (9^th edition, 2019) suggests, however, that we have a “probable” H. albicans x H. pimeleoides 'Glaucocaerulea' hybrid. I don't know the nomenclature, and really don't care at all, but I'll grant that his dwarf, low-hugging treasure provides as much dazzle per square inch as any other cultivated plant.

Hebe

Let's see: Hebecan mean a derogatory term for a Jew (as in a Hebrew), but also can refer to the ancient Greek word for “youth” or “prime of life.” I can relate to that, except that it has been quite a while. Hebe was the daughter of Zeus and Hera, and at first she was the cupbearer to the gods and goddesses of Mount Olympus, serving nectar and ambrosia until eventually marrying Hercules. Later she was known as Juventas by the Romans, but one is hard-pressed to connect these ancient ties with what we know now as the New Zealand “figwort.” The figworts are related to the mullein family of Scrophulariaceae, and though Hebe was once classified under Veronica, it is now considered (by Hillier) to be in the Plantaginaceae family (the “plantain family”) in the order Lamiales.

Pseudocydonia sinensis

Pseudocydonia sinensis

Pseudocydonia sinensis

Haruko

Samisen player

I've never seen Pseudocydonia sinensis in any Oregon garden, and the first time I saw it myself was at the North Carolina State Arboretum as a bonsai specimen, and a day or two later at the Keith Arboretum as a good-sized tree. It's proof that them easterners appreciate a good trunk when they see one. A separate genus is Cydonia oblonga, the common “quince,” and my welfare neighbor grows one next to his rusty trailer. The word Cydonia is from Greek kydoni which means “quince,” and kydonion malon translates as “apple of Kydonia” (modern Khania) an ancient seaport city-state on the northwestern coast of Crete. The Pseudocydonia produces edible fruit and they become less astringent after periods of frost, and it is also used in traditional Chinese medicine for its antioxidant and antiviral properties. In Japan the Pseudocydonia wood is used for a three-string instrument called samisen, and those constructed with a long narrow neck (sao) are appropriate for kabuki, while a more broad neck is used for puppet plays and folk songs. My Japanese wife is constructed with the long-narrow neck, so much so that I tease her as looking like an alpaca, and also, when her hair is pinned up in a bun, she's like Olive Oil in a Popeye cartoon. Shiverrrer me timbers...arrrgh!

Sorbus scalaris

Sorbus scalaris is a small deciduous tree from Sichuan and Yunnan, China, first collected by E.H. Wilson in 1904. Hillier describes it “of distinct appearance” with leaves “dark glossy green above, grey-downy beneath.” In autumn the leaves change to rich reddish-purple gold and orange, and branches are clad with bunches of orange-red fruits. This “Chinese mountain ash” is also known as the “Ladder rowan” due to the shape of the foliage; indeed the specific epithet is from Latin scala for “ladder.” An interesting fact is that S. scalaris is self-incompatible, meaning that if seedlings are raised then they are likely hybrids with other species. While that strategy prevents in-breeding, one wonders how it manages to spread in the wild.

Clematis montana var. wilsonii

Clematis montana var. wilsonii

I'm not really a vine guy, and I killed the one and only Clematis x cartmannii 'Joe' that I was gifted. When I began my career I visited a neighboring nursery, and I remember when the proprietor showed me a greenhouse disaster, where his Clematis looked dreadful due to some herbicide that he should not have applied willy-nilly. The visuals scarred me to this day and I always held that against the genus. Besides, I'm fortunate to live just an hour away from the acclaimed Rogerson's Clematis Collection, a peaceful garden chock-a-block with hundreds of cultivars and other attractive plants as well. My favorite there is a trellis of C. montana var. wilsonii which Wilson collected in China in 1907. Clematisis the Latin name for the climber and was coined by Linnaeus, from Greek klemafor “vine-branch, shoot or twig broken off,” and that from klan, “to break.” It is too late for me to learn about, and then to produce Clematis, and I suppose there are nurseries in the world that specialize in them only, so I'll make no effort to crowd in. The Rogerson collection satisfies me completely, and thanks to all of their volunteers who make my visits so enjoyable.

Pinus montezumae

Pinus montezumae

Pinus montezumae

An incredible Pinus species is the Mexican P. montezumae, a USDA zone 9 three-to-five needle conifer with a wide spreading form and notable for a deeply-fissured trunk. I have only seen the tree in three locations: at the Strybing Arboretum in San Francisco, at the Washington Park Arboretum in Seattle, and also at the Sir Harold Hillier Arboretum in southern England. When I began my nursery 41 years ago a few doctors befriended and supported me; they're all late now. I remember Dr. Corbin of Portland and Dr. Mossman of Vancouver, Washington, showing up at the nursery on a particularly rainy day. Dr. C. was a shrewd businessman as well as a TV-advertising eye doctor, and quite wealthy besides, so it was rather humorous to see him garbed in a Goodwill-level trench coat and topped with his wife's 29-cent plastic shower cap to fend off the rain. He was in his upper 70s at the time, and he certainly could afford a modern rain hat and umbrella. Nevertheless, he dropped off a bag of six P. montezumae branchlets and implored me to transform his dirty sticks into living trees. I despaired at the task: hmm...three-to-five needles per fascicle...umm, my guess was to use a two-needle rootstock such as Pinus sylvestris, and I copulated the Montezumae accordingly. Three grafts unionized, initially at least, and so I could deliver upon my effort. I don't know what ever happened to those trees though, because I never saw them again on either property.

Acer saccharum subsp. skutchii

Acer saccharum subsp. skutchii

Someone called our office a few days ago looking to purchase Acer skutchii, but never has one existed here. The Mexican “Cloud Forest maple” is scientifically known as Acer saccharum subsp. skutchii...so, the southernmost (even into Guatemala) range of America's great “Sugar maple.” I don't know how hardy the species is, but sadly it is Critically Endangered. The native population, in only five locations, occupies an area less than 50 square km. And these five locations are widely spread apart besides. I have read (Global Trees): “Acer skutchii is found in a single ex situ collection at Stephen F Austin University, Texas.”I'm unsure why A. skutchii is absent from DeBeaulieu's An Illustrated Guide to Maples, even as a subspecies. The epithet skutchii honors Alexander Frank Skutch (1904-2004), a botanist, naturalist and author, and prior owner of Los Cusingos* Bird Sanctuary in Costa Rica. Skutch died just eight days before his 100^th birthday.

 *Los Cusingos is named for the red-billed Aracari, a member of the Toucan family.

If you enjoy plants, if you love growing plants, then it's probably best that you don't own a wholesale nursery, because then the Kingdom Plantae foremost becomes a series of crops, Plantae cropii. To freely appreciate the mosses, weeds, bushes and trees you should not be required to tend to them for your living. Let them be, let them thrive, grow crooked or die, let it all exist out of your control. You'll never run out of subject matter: it is estimated that only 15% of the species of plants on planet Earth have been studied to date by mankind...so get with it, you lab-coated nerds!

Persea thunbergii

I now have Persea thunbergii in the collection, thanks to Steve Hootman of the Rhododendron Species Botanic Garden in Washington state. I had never encountered the hardy avocado until a few years ago when I walked past their specimen which was exhibiting mahogany-red new growth.

Persea thunbergii

I wrote what little I knew about the species in a past blog, and that in Japan it is known as tabunoki. No ki means "of wood" in Japanese, so hinoki is "wood of fire" according to my Japanese wife. I enlisted her to explain the tabu word, and as usual I didn't get a simple answer. I used to wonder if my wife deliberately obfuscates me, i.e. makes things less clear and more difficult to understand...than is necessary. But often she's not sure unless she can see the characters, and even then there can be multiple choices as to a word's meaning.

Persea thunbergii

Persea thunbergii is native to Japan, China, Taiwan, Philippines and South Korea. Haruko thinks – with the assistance of her Japanese internet – that tabu is derived from Korean tong bai for "log boat"...or tamai no ki for "soul," as in a "spirit tree." But then many Japanese believe that all trees have a spirit, and I guess I also feel the same.

Southern Bluebottle (Graphium teredon)

I'm told that the Persea wood is used to make furniture, and also that a powder is made for incense to repel mosquitos. P. thunbergii produces little black, bitter seeds that no one wants to eat, but birds do and they distribute the seed via their poop. The genus is in the Laurel family, similar to the Cinnamomum genus, and indeed the southern bluebottle butterfly (ao sujiageha) is attracted to both genera. In the International Dendrological Society's 2019 Yearbook, mention is made by contributor Marcel Robischon that P. thunbergii "is often used as a rootstock for grafting avocado selections [of the food avocado P. americana*], but also has a traditional use to stupefy fish for catching."

Megatherium americanum

*An interesting aside is that Persea americana, with it's unusually large seed, evolved at the same time as the now-extinct giant ground sloth, Megatherium americanum (meaning "great beast") in South America. The herbivore would eat the entire fruit and the seed would pass through its body whole, and when excreted a pile of sloth fertilizer would nourish the germinated seedling. Megatherium is thought to have gone extinct around 12,000 years ago, coinciding with the settlement of the Americas, and it suggests that hunting could have caused its extinction.

The Tabunoki tree in Ibaraki Prefecture

The Tabunoki tree in Ibaraki Prefecture

In Ibaraki Prefecture, Japan, a Persea thunbergii is said to be between 700-2,000 years old, and the locals worship it as a "fire-stopping" tree, but my wife couldn't really explain that part of the story.

Amentotaxus argotaenia

Dr. Back with Magnolia x 'Felix Jury'

We have sold plants to Dr. Stephen Back for a number of years, and we've also sold to him indirectly via other wholesale growers to whom we supplied lining-out stock. Dr. Back is a Portlander and currently serves as the director of the Pediatric Brain Injury Laboratory at Doernbecher Children's Hospital. According to his biography, “The focus of Dr. Back's research is in cerebral palsy in relation to etiology* and cellular/molecular basis of cerebral white matter injury in premature infants.” I know nothing about his profession, as I wasn't blessed with his brains, but I'm glad that someone is doing the research. My connection with Dr. B is that he is keeper of the Healing Garden, an ambitious arboretum that he began 10 years ago on considerable acreage at 900' elevation on the west side of Bald Peak in the Chehalem Mountains. The garden has become his corss to bear, but I'm sure that the beauty of the plants provides some solace. Indeed he enticed Eric and I to (finally) visit with the lure of Magnolia x 'Felix Jury' in full bloom, and in the photo above he looks like a rah-rahcheerleader with oversized pom-poms.

*The definition of etiology is cause, origin, such as the cause of a disease or abnormal condition.

Magnolia x 'Felix Jury'

x 'Felix Jury' (AKA 'Felix') is a relatively new hybrid (1984) that resulted from a cross of the large-flowered M. 'Atlas' and M. 'Vulcan'.* It was patented and released in 2004. It is fairly precocious – flowers appear before the leaves on bare stems, and during our sunny visit the perfume was strong and pleasant. New Zealander Mark Jury named the selection for his late father, and fortunately old Felix saw it bloom before he passed.

*Yep, M. x 'Vulcan' is yet another Jury introduction.

Magnolia x 'Black Tulip'

Hardy to USDA zone 5 (-20 F), another outstanding Jury hybrid in Dr. B's garden is 'Black Tulip'. Beware of judging flower color on young trees for they may be more pale compared to the Healing Garden's older specimen. Besides, flower color varies from season to season depending on available light and heat and perhaps other factors. The blossom color this year appears similar to M. x 'Vulcan', a cultivar that I have studied for two decades, and I have dozens of photos over the years that prove my point. 'Black Tulip' seems so dark because the tepals are thick and light does not easily pass through them. I grow 'Black Tulip', but since it's patented I must buy my starts from licensed growers, and then I grow them on for an additional year or two or three.

Chamaecyparis lawsoniana 'Tamariscina'

Chamaecyparis lawsoniana 'Tamariscina'

Microbiota decussata at the Rhododendron Species Garden

Early in my career I was a “juniper slinger” for other companies, meaning that I grew and loaded into trucks thousands of the disagreeable conifers, in particular Juniperus sabina 'Tamariscifolia' (the “tam” juniper). So-named due to its “feathery” appearance, or resemblance to the Temarisk genus (L.), a shrub or small tree in the Tamaricaceae family native to Europe, Asia and north Africa. I hated the smell and skin irritation caused by the tam juniper, and I vowed to never grow even one in my nursery. I knew about a Chamaecyparis lawsoniana cultivar, also coined 'Tamariscifolia', but I only knew it from photos in the literature: it was an old Euro cultivar that I had never seen before. Dr. B said he purchased his “Microbiota decussata” from a dubious source, but he didn't think that was accurate. Clearly not Microbiota, from a distance I instantly identified it as the elusive Lawson cultivar, and upon close inspection it displayed all of the characteristics of C. lawsoniana. What a find – after all these years! According to The Hillier Manual of Trees and Shrubs, C.l. 'Tamariscifolia' is “One of many fine conifers raised by James Smith and Son at their Darley Dale nursery, near Matlock in Derbyshire.” I plan to hit up the good doctor for scions this winter, and, though it would easily root, I'll be sure to graft onto disease-resistant lawson rootstock.

Picea engelmannii 'Blue Magoo' at Dr B's

Picea engelmannii 'Blue Magoo' at Buchholz Nursery

Years ago I grew many species of conifer as seedlings as it seemed to be an inexpensive means to produce plants. For example, for just a few dollars I purchased Picea engelmannii seed and many – too many – germinated. What to do with all the seedlings? Well, eventually I used them as rootstock to graft cultivars of Picea pungens (“Colorado blue spruce”) which were selling well at that time. However, I pulled out a particularly blue P. engelmannii individual and let it grow to a larger size. I became fond of it, particularly in spring with its drooping new growth, and a few visitors noticed it as well. Eventually I named it 'Blue Magoo' and began to grow and distribute it as such. Sales were strong, however my stock plants in the field were plagued by the dreaded moth that lays eggs in the trees' leaders, causing the tops to die. At one point I had only one left, and since a customer wanted to buy that tree, I sold it and left no more on the ark. The extinction occurred about a dozen years ago, and I assumed that it was ultimately lost to horticulture. But, but to my surprise I found it again in Dr. B's Healing Garden. I don't think I will pursue propagation again; I'm just happy to know that my lost child can be found in a loving garden just 20 minutes away from me.

Prunus incisa

Prunus incisa

Prunus incisa

The ornamental cherries were blooming lustfully, and we stopped to ponder a Fujithat billowed with a light pink coloration. Dr. B said that this year it was more pink than ever, not its normal white. I've never grown a Prunus incisa, or “Fuji cherry” so I don't know what is normal. Again, I turn to Hillier for insight: “A lovely Japanese species, generally shrubby, but occasionally a small tree, blooming with great freedom in March [well, April at Dr. B's altitude]. Flowers small, white, pink-tinged in bud and appearing pink from a distance...” Of course, I can't verify that it was truly a Fuji tree, but elsewhere in the garden was another that was purely white. The specific epithet incisa Thunb. refers to the serrated leaf edge which Hillier calls “beautifully tinted in autumn.” I grew slightly bittersweet that my career is nearly over and I didn't find the time or place to indulge much with the cherry-species of Prunus.