The Garden in Fruition

Autumnnoun. From Latin autumnus:

1) The season between summer and winter comprising in the northern hemisphere the months of September, October and November, or as reckoned astronomically extending from the September equinox to the December solstice.

2) a period of maturity or incipient decline.

Merriam-Webster

Malus species

Malus species

For the most part I am enjoying this season, especially the fruits, some of which I can eat and others that I devour visually only. With fifty or so different apple trees at Flora Farm I usually eat two a day (apples, not trees) and have thus kept the doctor away. The feast begins in August and it will continue through December as I also have a couple of winter-apple trees. Apple crisp, apple sauce, apple juice – my cups runneth over. Besides the many dozens that we give away our deer encampment still gets its share. It's appropriate that the word fruit, from Latin fructus, is derived from frui, “to enjoy.” Indeed my extensive orchard has come into lustful fruition.

Diospyros kaki 'Izu'

Diospyros kaki Drawing by Haruko Buchholz

Besides apples and pears in my fruitful orchard I have also added in recent years exotic persimmon (Diospyros kaki) cultivars such as 'Fuyu' and 'Izu'. I seem to relish them even more than does my Japanese wife and our two hybrid children, and I cannot fathom their indifference. True, you usually cannot just pick persimmons off their tree and consume them as easily as an apple, rather you gather in late October-to late November, then place them for an additional week or two at the kitchen or garage window...and then they will soften and become sweet and flavorful. In other words, when the fruitflies gather.

Crataegus calpodendron

Crataegus calpodendron

Recently my wife and I meandered through Portland's Hoyt Arboretum, a collection that houses a lot of interesting taxa, albeit mostly brush trees that I could never sell. One such specimen was Crataegus calpodendron which was previously documented by Linnaeus as C. tomentosa. In the Hillier Manual of Trees and Shrubs (2019) it is described as a North American round-headed tree, “very floriferous, bearing orange-red, pear-shaped fruits.”The “haws” are edible, either raw or cooked, and have been used in pies and preserves, but the interior consists of up to five seeds that stick together as if they are one single spit-out seed. I cleaned off one pear and nibbled its side, but found it to be mushy and not at all delicious, but maybe the nearby slither of slugs was the primary turn-off. White flowers finally appear in June, therefore it is known as the “late” hawthorn, and with their somewhat decayed odour they attract midges which perform pollination.

Crataegus cuneata

Crataegus cuneata

Crataegus cuneata

Flora Japonica (1842) by Siebold and Zuccarini

I have never grown Crataegus calpodendron and I doubt that I'll ever seek it out, but I do have another, rather obscure hawthorn at Flora Farm, C. cuneata, which was gifted to me by the late Edsal Wood who used the Chinese species (Shan zha) for bonsai. It occurs in Japan as well and it was Siebold/Zuccarini who first described it in Flora Japonicain 1842. You won't find C. cuneata listed in the Hillier Manual, so I wonder if it is now considered a subspecies, perhaps of C. pinnatifida, but that's just my uneducated guess. I'll leave my label as is until I know more, but cuneata is derived from Latin cuneatus, from cuneus for “wedge,” in the sense that the leaf is narrowly triangular with the acute angle toward the base. I went back to my tree to examine the leaves more closely, but I don't find them to be so narrow, and they're more like a decent slice of pie, i.e. rather obovate. Hmm...now I'm not sure about my tree's identity at all – can anyone help?

Crataegus cuneata

Usually, when I discover that a tree in my collection is incorrect I'll throw it out, reasoning that I have plenty of knowntrees that I can replace it with. It's clearly a hawthorn, I can see that, and it's attractive for its spring flowers and autumn fruits, but my mystery tree is maybe the ugliest in the arboretum for the rest of the year. You can see from the photo above that it's a lichenous scramble, and it'll remain so throughout the long winter.

Crataegus monogyna 'Inermis Compacta' at the RBG, Edinburgh

Crataegus monogyna 'Inermis Compacta'

Crataegus monogyna 'Inermis Compacta'

I'm certain about the identity of Crataegus monogyna 'Compacta' aka 'Inermis Compacta' with the inermispart meaning “thornless.” I agree with Hillier that it's a “remarkable, dwarf form with stout, stiff, unarmed branches.” Well, except maybe not the “dwarf”accolade, as I had to cut down my original specimen when, after 15 years of age it outgrew its site and was too large to harvest from the middle of the garden. My decision was confirmed when I saw the enormous specimen in the rock garden at the RBG, Edinburgh about 20 years ago – is that behemoth still there? Other than its eventual size, 'Compacta' is a perfect garden tree with its cloud of fragrant blossoms in spring and its deep red fruits which develop in October and persist through much of the winter...to the delight of your garden's birds...

Staphylea pinnata

Staphylea pinnata

Staphylea pinnata

Back at the Hoyt Arboretum we passed a large suckering bush with mushy fruit beneath. Haruko wondered if a drunk was lurking behind it as the odour was sweetly offensive as in alcohol. My nose was cold and drippy and at first I couldn't smell anything, but as I bent closer to the fruit I caught the strong whiff too. A label was present, Staphylea pinnata, and I realized that I was looking at a leafless “European Bladdernut,” so named due to the seed capsule being bladder-like in appearance. I've never grown the species but it is considered “very ornamental” according to the North Carolina Extension Gardener's website. I grew further excited to read: “Seeds are eaten raw and said to taste like pistachios. The seeds are eaten by children in Germany.”Heck, I love pistachios too; I think I'll head back to the Hoyt to sample, and I'll be sure to report.

Mahonia aquifolium

Mahonia aquifolium

I have a number of Mahonia species in the collection and many are bearing fruit at this time. An Oregon native, M. aquifolium – indeed Oregon's state flower – has been edibly in fruit since late August and I often pop one in my mouth when hiking in the woods. Be sure, I don't totally eat and swallow the tart pulp, I just suck on the sour juice like a hard candy. As children we would gather berries for my industrious grandmother who would add enough sugar to the fruit to make a very tasty jelly.

Mahonia x'Arthur Menzies'

Mahonia x'Arthur Menzies'

Mahonia x'Arthur Menzies'

Another Mahonia with notable fruits is the hybrid x'Arthur Menzies' (M. lomariifolia x M. japonica), while others claim the hybrid is M. beaei with M. lomariifolia. In any case it is a northwest USA favorite as it originated in Seattle's Washington Park Arboretum as a chance (hardy) seedling in 1961, and it is a most ornamental small upright tree with its bold textural form and ruggedly furrowed trunk. It is flowering now and the golden spikes attract the November-through-February hummingbirds – in fact I was buzzed as I approached the golden nectar-tree yesterday. As with M. aquifolium the fruit is edible for humans even after our avian companions have sucked their flower fill, but as with M. aquifolium: a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, medicine go down...in a most delightful way.

Berberis thunbergii 'Crimson Pygmy'

Berberis thunbergii 'Golden Nugget'

Mahonia is in the barberryfamily (Berberidaceae) as is Berberis, and the myriad of species of the latter produce (at least somewhat) edible fruit. The “European barberry” (Berberis vulgaris= “common”) is native to Eurasia and was originally imported into New England for its bark's nutritional qualities and medicinal uses, while the fruits contain significant amounts of Vitamin C, Malic acid and tannins. But, it is also considered invasive and it is a host of stem rust, a serious disease that hampers cereal crops. We have collected a number of Japanese barberry cultivars (B. thunbergii) which produce colorfully red fruits in autumn, and while you wouldn't want to eat a bowlfull, an individual berry is bitter, but sweet and definitely tart; in fact I put one in my mouth right now, giving me a jolt of Vit. C. Also the leaves of B. thunbergii can be consumed when cooked, so you can drink it as tea. The berries persist for months and they provide a nice, ornamental, sparkling feature when the sun shines on them in the winter 'scape.

Poncirus trifoliata 'Flying Dragon'

Poncirus trifoliata 'Flying Dragon'

On the path to my Berberis treat I passed a specimen of Citrus(formally Poncirus) trifoliata 'Flying Dragon', and the colorful fruits have turned from summer's green to autumn's bright yellow-orange. Though native to northern China and Korea it is commonly known as the “Japanese bitter-orange,” but I (for one) could never swallow even a small portion. Its use is ornamental, then, although it is also employed as a hardy (USDA zone 6) rootstock for sweet-orange production. The 'Flying Dragon' cultivar was selected for its more compact habit with exceedingly contorted stems, and combined with its stout formidable thorns it has served as an effective barrier-hedge at Oklahoma State University where it has kept drunken college students at bay for over 50 years. As with some of the other plants described in this blog, if sugarized (the rind) can be enjoyed as a candy and the flesh made into marmalade, and in Germany the fruit is stored for a two-week period, then made into a flavoring syrup.

Rosa stylosa subsp. nevadensis

Rosa stylosa subsp. nevadensis

I'm not really a rose guy– maybe its the thorns that bother me – but I do appreciate the simple flowers of some of the species. Generally speaking, I hate the over-presentation of the gaudy hybrids, and even worse some of their names: 'Love and Peace', 'Miss Congeniality', 'Livin Easy' and 'Lawrence of Arabia' (really?) are some examples. Back to the species, I actually admire the hips as much as the flowers and our specimen of Rosa stylosa subsp. nevadensis has been putting on a hip-hip-hooray show for over a month now. No, it is not native to our USA state of Nevada, but rather to the Sierra Nevada in Spain. R. stylosa was originally classified as Prodromus florae hispanicae, another clue to its native range. The specific epithet stylosacomes from the Greek word stylowhich means “having prominent styles” in reference to the female flower. A slender stalk called the styleoften connects the ovary and stigma. I've never actually eaten a rose fruit, but occasionally my wife will serve me rosehip tea citing its health benefits, that it is rich in antioxidants. Interestingly, plants from higher altitude tend to have higher antioxidant levels. You should know that fresh hips are more beneficial than dried ones or tea bags, or so claims healthline.com.

Rosa moyesii 'Regalia'

Rosa moyesii 'Regalia'

Rosa moyesii 'Regalia'

Rosa moyesii 'Geranium'

Rosa moyesii is represented in the collection with two cultivars: 'Regalia' with red flowers and 'Geranium' with orange flowers. A few hips were dangling from my 'Regalia', so for the sake of science I chewed a little bit, but spat it without swallowing. I could imagine a stomach ache by eating the whole thing. When my children were young, when they assumed I was the most incredible man on earth, I plucked off a rose hip and they followed me to the apple orchard. We compared the similar fruits and they were amazed that Rosa and Malus are in the same family, certainly more so than comparing apples with oranges. Then we went to the pear tree; aha – Pyrus looks to be Rosaceacious as well. Thus they had an early lesson in botany, and they didn't need a spoonful of sugar to make the medicine go down.

Pyracantha 'Red Cushion'

Pyracantha angustifolia

Not surprisingly the fruit of Pyracantha (“firethorn”) is also edible and it is a common plant in the south of China. Pyracantha fortuneana, for example, contains a high level of vitamin C, and is also rich in organic acids, proteins and trace elements, or say various health nuts. I've never consumed any so I don't know personally, but I guess all members of the Rosaceae family are good for you. I should try a ripe fruit which supposedly tastes like apple, in fact it is commonly called a “pocket apple.” But, like with the Rosa genus one must deal with the vicious thorns.

Cotoneaster frigidus

Cotoneaster microphyllus 'Cooperi'

A more tame genus is Cotoneaster which is disparagingly called “cotton easter.” I won't be eating the fruit because it is a diuretic and laxative and I don't need either, but it is said to also decrease anxiety which I could probably use. The genus is native to Europe, Asia and even north Africa, and it includes species that hug the ground – to spreading shrubs – to small trees. The name is derived from Latin cotoneumfor “quince” plus New Latin aster. The fruit is usually smaller than a quince, but in some cases the showy berries are nearly as large as walnuts. I regret that my career has mostly passed and that I gave little attention to Cotoneaster, especially the large, arching forms such as C. frigidus*. We used to grow C. bullatus 'Floribundus' which is similar in habit, but in that case we would train up 3-4' straight whips and top graft with dwarves and creepers such as C. microphyllus 'Cooperi' or C. apiculatus 'Tom Thumb'. I tired of that activity especially since supportive bamboo stakes were necessary, and after a year in the pot the stakes would rot and the top heads had a tendency to lean.

*Frigidus is Latin for “cold, chill, cool,” so I suppose the epithet is due to its origin in the Himalayan foothills. Who?...knows if that's correct.

Callicarpa japonica 'Leucocarpa'

Callicarpa japonica 'Leucocarpa'

Callicarpa japonica 'Leucocarpa'

I pass each day a stream of pearls along the arboretum road to our house, with tiny white beads clinging to arching branches of Callicarpa japonica 'Leucocarpa'. The supearlative “Japanese Beauty berry” is a deciduous shrub that goes without notice for most of the year, but from September through November – autumn indeed – the dangling stems glisten with their Orientaladornments. In fact the generic name Callicarpacomes from Greek kalosmeaning “beautiful” and karposmeaning “fruit.” Hey, enjoy! Hillier described the species as “An attractive, small, compact shrub with oval leaves, pale pink flowers and violet fruits,” but with 'Leucocarpa' the flowers and fruits are pearly white. I had read in the past that Callicarpa is edible, or at least the American species C. americana, so I tried a handful of five 'Leucocarpa' but found them to be exceedingly gritty, and obviously requiring a top chef to make a decent recipe.

Mike Darcy

Mike Darcy is a local plant personality and avid gardener, and on his old radio show he interviewed an expert on Native American plant uses. The authority revealed that the leaves off Callicarpa can be rubbed on the skin as a mosquito repellent. Mike expressed delight and asked if it was as effective as the chemical repellents we use today, then chuckled when the answer was “No, not really.”

I can recommend Mike Darcy's weekly In the Gardenblog, where he includes his experiences as well as his readers' plant stories and photos. Fun and very informational.

I'll lift a quote on Mike's blog from the nature writer Edwin Way Teale (1899-1980):

“How sad would be November if we had no knowledge of the spring.”