Flora Wonder Blog: July 2023

Friday, July 28, 2023

Buchholz Plant Introductions (Part 5)

Let's continue with the Flora Wonder Blog's Buchholz Plant Introductions (Part 5) even though I sense that some of you have grown weary of my self-aggrandisement, but I feel a duty to summarize my contributions to horticulture (for better or for worse) before I become too feeble to recount them, and I'll attempt to set the record straight about the litany of false assumptions and misinformation that has previously been published. No holds are barred about my introduction failures because they serve to illustrate the reality that the valid and worthy have had to elevate themselves above the mire of those mundane or worthless attempts.

Abies vejarii 'Mountain Blue'

I “discovered” and introduced – or tried to – Abies vejarii* 'Mountain Blue' which arose as a seedling that I germinated in the early 1980s. That was when I was working full-time at another nursery, and because I was cash-strapped I grew a number of species from seed, and for a relatively modest investment – say $10.00 – I could produce a couple hundred seedlings of an unusual species...and have a product for sale that nobody else even considered worthy of development. Of course I had to assume that my crops were actually true-to-name...since I was growing these seedlings for the first time myself. One germinant distinguished itself for unusually-vibrant, powder-blue needles. It prospered and eventually I was able to harvest scions, but the only problem was that no one would order an obscure species from northeastern Mexico, even my extra blue form. I eventually sold or dumped the remaining propagules so I could focus my energy on trees that were in high demand, and only the original 'Mountain Blue' remained in my conifer field. After one particularly wet fall, winter and spring my solo went into noticeable decline. I let it be, unsightly though it was, hoping I could cut a few scions the following winter, but the wood looked too bad to bother when I went for the harvest. The vejarii, as well as a nearby Abies durangensis var. coahuilensis, were both tossed, and old Noah just sat in his Ark shaking his head in dismay.

*The vejarii species was first described in 1942 and was named for Octavio Vejar Vazquez, the Mexican Minister for Public Education at the time.

Abies vejarii 'Mountain Blue'

If you look for Abies vejarii 'Mountain Blue' online, you'll see a reference that claims it “was found and introduced by the Buchholz Nursery. Talon found it in the high elevations in the mountains of Mexico.” But of course you know that's wrong and besides, I've never been in the mountains of northern Mexico. I have no desire to be in cartel-land where I'd be robbed and held for ransom, as I'm certain my family would refuse to pay up.

In the 1980s I acquired A Monograph of the Species Abies by the Chinese botanist, Tang Shui Liu. I was intrigued by the Chinese species Abies squamata, known as the “Flaky fir.” It was virtually unknown in American collections, except that the Arnold Arboretum of Harvard University supposedly had one. It was not easy to persuade the lofty plantsmen of Harvard to send a couple of scions to a little start-up collection in Oregon, but they did. Unfortunately, they sent Abies chensiensis or something else, but not the true squamata, which I realized a few years later.

Abies squamata 'Flaky'

In the meantime, I had acquired Abies squamata elsewhere which proved to be correct. To keep the true squamata separate from the false, I assigned the name 'Flaky' to the correct source. This is a measure one must take in a commercial nursery setting with employees offering varying degrees of attention and commitment. Eventually I sent back to the Arnold a start of the correct Abies squamata, for which I received no thanks, and today I don't know what became of that tree. Certainly squamata is cold-hardy for Boston (USDA zone 5).

Abies squamata

The late JRP van Hoey Smith of Arboretum Trompenburg in Rotterdam visited in the 1990s, and he marveled that I was growing Abies squamata at all, let alone one with a “cultivar” tag. I explained the Arnold mix-up story, but he dismissed it with a throat-clearing grunt, and later he was known to complain that when American nurserymen don't know the identity of something, they just invent a new name. I agree that the gripe is valid so I'm guilty too, but since I had already released trees with the 'Flaky' name, even though it was not worthily distinguished for cultivar status, I have kept it to this day.

Abies squamata 'Flaky'

Acer griseum

If there's anything redeeming about my “introduction,” it's that I have made a rare tree available to American nurseries and gardens. I wrote in a 2014 blog: “The Flaky-bark fir from the Szechuan-Tibet border delights all who see it. The needles are a rich blue-green and the cones are ornamentally purple, and when young the species can attain a perfect Christmas-tree form. The exfoliating cinnamon-brown bark is fantastic, and I suspect that if I passed off some squamata trunk photos as Acer griseum, no one would question. Abies squamata is native to a dry region, and it holds the altitude record of all Abies at 15,416 feet (4,700 meters). Locally it is known as “bollo,” but then the Tibetans refer to other Abies and Picea species by the same common name. Abies squamata is listed as “Vulnerable” by the IUCN Red List of Threatened Species, but I can produce lots of them should you want to grow it.”

Picea breweriana 'Emerald Midget'

According to the Royal Horticultural Society's Encyclopedia of Conifers (2012) Picea breweriana 'Emerald Midget' is described: “A slow-growing dense pyramid with ascending branches and rich emerald-green foliage. In ten years 150 x 75cm (6 x 3.5ft.). Originated in 1983 as a witches' broom by Buchholz and Buchholz Nursery, OR, USA.” I wonder the source of that information, because it's not correct. It originated as a seedling, not from a “witches' broom,” and besides, if it did originate from a congested branch mutation, why wouldn't it be described as originating from a witch's broom, since there weren't any plural brooms? In any case, the original tree is still here, and it garnered a full page photo in the encyclopedia. As to the alleged date, maybe I germinated the seedling in 1983, but it was never “introduced” until approximately 1990. I chuckle that a few Euro growers doubt that my specific epithet breweriana is correct, that surely it is a form of Picea omorika, But ha! – look at the buds – I admit that from a distance it resembles an omorika, but this Oregon boy knows his native Oregon conifers, and I can assure you that it is a P. breweriana. In defense of the Euros, there is nothing at all “weeping” about 'Emerald Midget', and I've even asked myself what's the point of a (dwarf )“Brewers weeping spruce” if it doesn't weep at all?

Picea engelmannii 'Blue Magoo'

A brief description in the RHS Encyclopedia for Picea engelmannii 'Blue Magoo' follows shortly after the 'Emerald Midget': “A slow-growing upright plant with short grey-blue needles. In ten years 180 x 120 cm. Originated in 1986 by Buchholz and Buchholz Nursery, OR, USA.” On the page preceding 'Blue Magoo' is a full-page photo of Picea engelmannii 'Bush's Lace' – a nice photo, but the tree has the tell-tale sign of a damaged top, where the apical shoot droops because it has been attacked by a moth that tunnels into the tree and lays its eggs, resulting in a dead leader and an unsalable tree. Certain species of spruce, such as Picea pungens, P. engelmannii, P. smithiana and others are particularly prone, while other species are never afflicted. My solution for the problem is to not grow the faster upright spruces, and to just grow the dwarves that the moth ignores. So, I just had one 'Blue Magoo' left at Flora Farm, and the RHS photo was taken just a year before its top died. In disgust I removed the damaged tree entirely, reasoning that I never want to propagate a species if I can't grow it myself, my way of avoiding pesticide use. So long, farewell...thanks for the memories.

Pinus bungeana 'Temple Gem'

Pinus bungeana 'Temple Gem' originated as a slow-growing, compact seedling selection which I had set aside to observe sometime in the mid 1980s. All of its brethren seedlings eventually grew at the normal type-rate, but 'Temple Gem' plugged along at about one-third compared to the others. The original is still housed at Buchholz Nursery in the Short Road section, planted just a few steps away from the original Picea breweriana 'Emerald Midget', and along with the original Chamaecyparis nootkatensis 'Sparkling Arrow', the first propagule of Acer palmatum 'Geisha Gone Wild' and the original Acer circinatum 'Sunglow', the little Short Road section is a veritable Garden of Earthly Delights.

Pinus bungeana 'Temple Gem' at the University of Tennessee

I remember visiting the University of Tennessee's botanical garden about ten years ago with employee Seth. The garden was rather small and just mildly interesting, but my opinion is not a put-down at all because any serious plant collection is of interest to me. Near the end of our visit I sat to rest on a bench that was placed next to a pine tree. It didn't even register to me the species of the bushy pine, but a few minutes later I realized it was a Pinus bungeana, and when I searched for the label I was shocked to see that it was 'Temple Gem'. Wow – how did that get here! I had never sent any plant to the U. of T., but somehow there it was. My 'Gem' was in vigorous condition, and I didn't recognize it because the needles and new growth were larger than what I can achieve in Oregon. I was without my saw and pruners, but I had an urge to return one day to limb up the lower branches and thin the canopy to reveal the colorful, exfoliating trunk, to transform it from a boring pine blob into a show-off specimen. But alas...I have my own trees to take care of.

Chamaecyparis obtusa 'Sunshine'

Chamaecyparis obtusa 'Moonshine'

Chamaecyparis obtusa 'Moonshine' and 'Sunshine' are both listed in the RHS Encyclopedia of Conifers, including a photo of 'Sunshine' growing in full sun in our Conifer Field. Both originated about 1998 as a twig mutation, and were first propagated on the exact same day. A colorful reversion appeared on a C.o. 'Nana Gracilis' and that became 'Sunshine', while a reversion on C.o. 'Kosteri' yielded 'Moonshine'. 'Sunshine' was produced for a few years but it was prone to sun scorch, and when the unevenly-variegated portions were large, then the plant would look dreadful. Surprisingly, in the photo in the encyclopedia it doesn't look too bad – that was a graft onto Thuja occidentalis – but for me it would burn even in the protected greenhouses, so I stopped wasting my time with it.

Chamaecyparis obtusa 'Moonshine'

Chamaecyparis obtusa 'Baldwin's Variegated'

C.o. 'Moonshine' is more evenly variegated and a much cuter dwarf. It must be sited carefully (in Oregon) with afternoon shade, and even then it burns a little by the end of July. 'Moonshine' will form a dense, low-spreading shrub stretching to 1.5 ft. wide by 1 ft. tall in ten years. Oops, wouldn't you know, there has already been a selection that's a look-alike to 'Moonshine' – 'Baldwin's Variegated' – but I didn't know of it at the time mine was introduced. 'Moonshine' is a better name for sure, and indeed it does light up a dark corner in the garden. As to be expected, plants propagated by cuttings will grow more dwarf than those grafted onto Thuja occidentalis, but we find a willing market however they are produced.

Abies koreana 'Ice Breaker'

Frequently my crops of Abies koreana 'Ice Breaker' throw up strong, vigorous shoots; they can be quite thick and extend up to 10” long on an otherwise very dwarf plant. I decided to propagate the rambunctious stems, which I coined as 'Super Breaker', to see if the results would grow intermediate between A.k. 'Silberlocke' (the mother tree of the original 'Ice Breaker') and 'Ice Breaker' itself. Basically I was seeking a more dwarf and compact form of 'Silberlocke', although that cultivar is plenty slow and compact anyway. I assumed that I was uniquely observant and curious, and I was poised to take the credit if my experiment yielded positive results. Three years after the initial grafts – about 200 – I revealed my trial to friend Nelis Kools of Deurne, The Netherlands, but I discovered that the Dutch go-getter had done the same, and in fact Nelis beat me to the concept a couple of years prior. The jury is still out for me and I don't know how Nelis has fared, but thinking at one point that the nursery's inventory might be liquidated I have sold most of my 'Super Breakers' in their one-gallon pots. Also, when we ran a few short of filling an order for 'Ice Breaker' I said we could sub with the needed amount of 'Super Breaker', for after all they were 'Ice Breaker' too. But anyway, some 'Supers' are still here and I hope that I'll be around to document the trial.

Pinus parviflora 'Arnold Arboretum Dwarf'

Many years ago I received scions of a dwarf Pinus parviflora that originated from the Arnold Arboretum of Harvard University. Since I didn't have a name or a story to help identify the scionwood, I struck the name 'Arnold Arboretum Dwarf', and I propagated the attractive short-needled tree and introduced it about 1998. Trying to discover more about its origin, I was told that the Arnold's head propagator Al Fordham was probably responsible, as he was inclined to experiment with dwarf parviflora seedlings. One of his selections is listed in the RHS Encyclopedia as 'Al Fordham' (syn. 'AA Special #2'); and indeed the accompanying photo looks similar to my 'Arnold Arboretum Dwarf', but I wasn't aware of the former's existence when I christened my cultivar. The name I bestowed was never intended to be a permanent cultivar name, and as has happened often before, I have to throw some kind of identification name at the time of grafting. So, the name 'Arnold Arboretum Dwarf' is not clever or catchy in any way, but it's the one we're stuck with. The plant itself resembles the well-known 'Adcock's Dwarf' from the Hillier Nurseries in England, named after their head propagator Graham Adcock in 1961, according to The Hillier Manual of Trees and Shrubs (2019). I think the Arnold seedling is superior to the Hillier dwarf, and also the former is not afflicted with needle drop in early spring before the new candles push to hide the cruddy old foliage. For us, 'Adcock's Dwarf' always looked its worst in the middle of our shipping season, and I grew tired of making excuses so we dropped it from production.

Pinus parviflora 'Arnold's Variegated'

In about 2013 one Pinus parviflora 'Arnold Arboretum Dwarf' developed cream-yellow variegation* on the otherwise gray-green foliage. In some cases the stem would be entirely yellow, and at other times just a few needles along the shoot would be differently colored. When one sees a 7-to-8-year-old specimen in the ground the colorful portions are evenly distributed, but never have I considered the display to be dazzling. Flora distributes her gifts liberally, but they're not always wonders.

*Which would be named 'Arnold's Variegated'.

Flora distributing her favours upon the earth

The dwarf, variegated P. parviflora is an appropriate conclusion to this week's blog. You can see that I'm trying to mix stories about the failures with the successes, because that's the true nature of plant introductions.

Thursday, July 20, 2023

Buchholz Plant Introductions (Part 4)

The original tree of Acer palmatum 'Amber Ghost'

Acer palmatum 'Amber Ghost'

The previous Flora Wonder Blog, Buchholz Plant Introductions (Part 3), ended with the revelation that the original tree (of the Buchholz introduction) Acer palmatum 'Amber Ghost' is now growing at Iroki Garden, the arboretum/zoo of Michael Steinhardt, located in the Mt. Kisco area of New York state. His collection also contains many other Buchholz trees, some of which are original or champion cultivars, and I'm proud and relieved that they are safely and pleasantly housed in an endowed situation. As I have previously alluded, I would have preferred to keep all my trees...where they would follow me into the afterlife and the holy angels would water and tend to them, but doubting that I had that option, then Iroki was the next best situation.

Acer palmatum 'Amber Ghost'

So: the “Ghost Series” of Japanese maples, of which Acer palmatum 'Amber Ghost' is one of the founding members. The so-called “series” was not a term I coined; I think it arose after an article appeared in a Portland newspaper, The Oregonian, sometime in the 1990s. In the olde days the local fish-wrap actually had a garden section – now defunct – that appeared once a week. I remember (vaguely) when their female reporter showed up one morning with a dour-looking cameraman, he encumbered with heavy, dangling, shiny-black photo gear. The poor guy looked like his assignment was with a root-canal dentist and I took an instant dislike with his jaded demeanor. Nevertheless we trundled down to the lower greenhouses to document the various cultivars of the “Ghost maples.” It was spring and the maples showed off delightfully, and before long the sour-puss became hooked on the fantastic leaf patterns of each “ghost.” Suddenly I was energized too...that a professional photographer and I shared mutual enthusiasm over some weird maple leaves. Hey – pretty cool, shutterguy – look at my treasures! I didn't brag, but I almost wanted to say that I already had better photos than the ones he was about to take, but when the article appeared I was very impressed with his craft after all. It was then, perhaps, that I realized I was just a mediocre photographer, but one blessed with great subjects.

Acer palmatum EX 'Amber Ghost'

The “Ghosts” zoomed with popularity and I can still sell every one I produce, though some are propagated in greater quantity than others. I could argue that every one was “worthy” of introduction since they continue to sell 30 years later, but I obviously have my favorite(s). I don't expect any one to agree with my personal rating, but here they are in order, with #1 being my favorite:

1. Acer palmatum 'Amber Ghost' 1995 (approx. date of introduction)

2. Acer palmatum 'Purple Ghost' 1995

3. Acer palmatum 'Sister Ghost' 1995

4. Acer palmatum 'Grandma Ghost' 1995

5. Acer palmatum 'First Ghost' 1993

6. Acer palmatum 'Dark Ghost' 2015

7. Acer palmatum 'Uncle Ghost' 1995

8. Acer palmatum 'Baby Ghost' 1995

9. Acer palmatum 'Martha's Ghost' 1995

Acer palmatum 'Purple Ghost'

Hmm...my “favorite,” but based on what? The answer is: garden worthiness such as vigor, adaptability, disease resistance, toleration of summer and winter temperature extremes etc. Commercial appeal and ease of propagation are important factors of course. All ghosts propagate about the same (via grafting), but I can't really assess commercial appeal because our production numbers are relatively small and we currently sell out of all of them anyway. The cultivar name probably matters, though, for if I had unlimited numbers, I suppose that 'Purple Ghost' would outsell 'Uncle Ghost'. All plant names matter. Another criteria to be “favored” is just individual preference, such as most men have with women. Does one prefer blonde, brunette or red-haired, tall or short, petite, well-endowed or just medium?

Acer palmatum 'First Ghost'

Although I ranked 'First Ghost' at number 5, I must begin with it for the obvious reason – it was the first ghost to be named. It originated as a branch mutation while all the others were seedling selections. I had a miscellaneous group of stock maples in the Far East section of the nursery which included a couple of Acer palmatum 'Beni shigitatsu sawa' (formerly known as 'Aka shigitatsu sawa'). It was nearly dark as I approached one evening and I was puzzled to see a ghostly apparition hovering over one maple, and at first I assumed it to be a white plastic bag or somebody's tee shirt. How could I have missed the 2-to-3 year-old branch-sport before? I propagated the mutant portion and labeled it 'Ghost', but a few years later – before I had sold or given any away – I changed the name to 'First Ghost' to distinguish it from the other ghosts I was developing.

Acer palmatum 'Phantom Flame'

There are two other cultivars that closely resemble 'First Ghost', and I grow both of them: Acer palmatum 'Phantom Flame', discovered by Crispin Silva of Oregon (about 7-10 years ago) and A.p. 'Ghost Dancer', discovered by Dave Jarrell, also of Oregon. It's interesting that Silva named his maple “Phantom” as that is also kind of a ghostly name. The “Flame” part of the name is because its new growth is white but with a brilliant red edge to the new leaves. 'First Ghost' also displays a reddish leaf-edge, but possibly 'Phantom Flame' is more pronounced. If I had discovered the latter, I probably would not have introduced it... in deference to 'First Ghost' which is 20 years its elder.

Acer palmatum 'Ghost Dancer'

The other cultivar similar to Acer palmatum 'First Ghost', A.p. 'Ghost Dancer', – a great name, I think – was discovered and named by Mr. Jarrell at about the same time as my introduction, but neither of us knew about the other's. What a remarkable coincidence then! I have seen references supposing that 'Ghost Dancer' is a member of the “Ghost series,” but rong.

I'll continue with #9, 'Martha's Ghost', which was abandoned by me almost immediately after it was propagated and introduced. No doubt some – perhaps the Mr. Maple company from North Carolina – still produce this cultivar, but I found no compelling reason to (re)produce it, and for the past 20 years I haven't had one in the collection at all. I don't remember much about it since I have no photo, so I can't even begin to provide a description. I regret admitting the above, that I was so mindlessly negligent, but I was just trying to make a living as a nurseryman and I had to make sharp business decisions. So that may explain why #9, 'Martha's Ghost', is my least favorite of all in the “Ghost series,” i.e. because I never made any money from it. It was named for an employee who worked here for a short time in a management position, but who ultimately...faltered, and maybe that's also why I discontinued with the selection.

Acer palmatum 'Baby Ghost' at Kubota Garden

Acer palmatum 'Baby Ghost'

I also don't grow Acer palmatum 'Baby Ghost' anymore, and since there hasn't been even one in the collection for the past dozen years, I rank it near the bottom along with 'Martha's Ghost'. I had no good reason to drop 'Baby Ghost' entirely; I just think it happened by accident. It was never as dazzling as the others but it was the most dwarf of the group, with a low spreading habit. Imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon it a couple of years ago at the Kubota Gardens in Seattle, which reaffirmed my description of its form. Their source for the tree is not certain to me, although I suspect it was from one of my Washington customers. I should probably make an effort to reacquire 'Baby Ghost', then I'll apologize for shunning it from the party.

Acer palmatum 'Uncle Ghost'

Number 7 on my list, Acer palmatum 'Uncle Ghost', is admittedly another introduction that, if never selected and produced, the world of horticulture probably wouldn't care less. And honestly, I have raised many other seedlings in subsequent years that equal or better 'Uncle Ghost'; but maybe I'm too harsh about my discoveries and I should just shut up and allow the market to evaluate them.

Acer palmatum 'Dark Ghost'

One selection that probably betters Acer palmatum 'Uncle Ghost' is A.p. 'Dark Ghost', but I actually regret its introductions because I previously announced to maple aficionados that I was done with more inclusions into the “Ghost series,” that I was now “post-ghost” and I should have left well-enough alone. Note that 'Dark Ghost' appeared about 20 years later than the others, and I now feel that I belittled the others, but too late to undo.

Acer palmatum seedlings from ghost cultivars

The following four introductions are by far the most commercially successful: Acer palmatums 'Grandma Ghost', 'Sister Ghost', 'Purple Ghost' and 'Amber Ghost'. Note that when I previously gave my approximate date of introduction, the original seedlings themselves were “discovered” five-to-nine years prior to the first commercial offering. If you set a seedling of interest aside for further evaluation, the tree must still impress you later...when you decide to name and propagate it. Remember my admonition that a final cultivar name should be established prior to propagation to avoid confusion later. Then, the market will decide if one should continue with it.

The original Acer palmatum 'Purple Ghost'

The above four cultivars arose at the same time and are daughters of the same mother Acer palmatum 'Kasagi yama'. At one point, what is now 'Purple Ghost' used to be called 'Kasag DG-92', and that's because of the parent’s name beginning, while “DG-92” meant that the original tree was (and still is) planted in the Display Garden, and grounded in 1992.

Acer palmatum 'Grandma Ghost'

Acer palmatum 'Grandma Ghost' displays delicious foliage, and it's especially fun to watch the leaves evolve throughout the seasons – slow-motion magic. In the Vertrees/Gregory Japanese Maples (2009), the description begins: “A small to medium-sized tree, this cultivar is one of the Ghost Series of netted variegates from the Buchholz and Buchholz Nursery, Oregon,” then ends with “It needs protection from the afternoon sun.” I take the admonition as a suggestion only, for I have seen trees in full sun also. But all maples appreciate some afternoon shade, as do plantspeople too.

Acer palmatum 'Sister Ghost'

Acer palmatum 'Sister Ghost' evokes lovely friendship in the garden, and I imagine all the other trees admire her feminine charm. She can look fresh all summer if well-sited (some shade) and provided adequate moisture. The cultivar is rather vigorous when grown in our white-poly greenhouses, and branches spread laterally, about three times in width versus height. Autumn color ranges from a marmalade hue to vibrant red, and on a particular tree the color show is not predictable from year to year, at least in my experience.

Acer palmatum 'Purple Ghost'

Acer palmatum 'Purple Ghost' is the champion of the series in terms of commercial appeal, and thousands are now in American and European gardens. The claim in Japanese Maples: “'Purple Ghost' is a seedling of 'Shigitatsu sawa', with the probable pollen parent of 'Kasagi yama'.” is not probably not, but definitely not correct.

Sam Hatch and Talon in front of Acer palmatum 'Purple Ghost'

'Purple Ghost' is a vigorous selection, growing into a dense, broad canopy, and it made a great row-run crop when we used to produce it in the field. Note that a specimen growing in a friend's garden, Sam Hatch – the “Maple Lady,” is already larger than the original tree in our Display Garden. I have preached many times before that horticultural production frequently produces a superior product than the (usually) abnormal original plant, and I never consider the latter to be the prototype when providing descriptions. Thankfully the 'Kasag DG-92' name has been dropped in favor of 'Purple Ghost', although some with the code name were released before I made amends.

Acer palmatum 'Amber Ghost'

The original Acer palmatum 'Amber Ghost' is also growing at Iroki Garden in New York, if I recall its history correctly. Most growers who produce the cultivar would rank its form and vigor at number one, and I suppose that is why I did also. However it's subjective to argue that it is superior to 'Purple Ghost' and the others.

One attribute of 'Amber Ghost' that I find fun and rewarding is its propensity as a mother tree to produce a plethora of off-spring with a wide variety of sizes and shapes. Leaf colors range from near 'Amber Ghost' duplicates, to laceleafs, strange talon-looking shapes, dwarves etc. The partial list below illustrates a mother's pride with her own fecundity:

Acer palmatum 'Sweet Lorraine'

Acer palmatum 'Blonde Beauty'

Acer palmatum 'Shu shidare'

Acer palmatum 'Strawberry Spring'

Acer palmatum 'Mini Lace'

Acer palmatum 'Jubilee'

Acer palmatum 'Waveleaf'

Acer palmatum 'Bloody Talons'

There you have it. I've done my duty, but with the caveat that it's the best of my recollection. I'm humbled that my career was punctuated with the development of these maples. But I know, I know, Flora herself would like to take the credit.

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The Buchholz Plant Introduction-logue to be continued...

Buchholz Nursery Website

Friday, July 28, 2023

Buchholz Plant Introductions (Part 5)

Thursday, July 20, 2023

Buchholz Plant Introductions (Part 4)