Larry Lederman‘s lens takes you to the Garden when you can’t be there and previews what to see when
you can.
The approach of fall in the Garden brings with it the revitalization of one of our most classically scenic collections, the Peggy Rockefeller Rose Garden, where hundreds of cultivars revisit the colors of spring with a second bloom in September.
Together, the two collections are the perfect escape in late summer, an opportunity to soak in the best of both flowers and foliage before the transitions of fall arrive. Here, Larry Lederman spotlights his favorite aspects of each from recent trips through the Garden.
Jon L. Peter is the NYBG’s Plant Records Manager. He is responsible for the curation of The Lionel Goldfrank III Computerized Catalog of the Living Collections. He manages nomenclature standards and the plant labels for all exhibitions, gardens, and collections, while coordinating with staff, scientists, students and the public on all garden related plant information.
The Persian parrotia specimen located near the Benenson Ornamental Conifers
I feel very fortunate that I get to enjoy one of my favorite trees in the garden on a daily basis. I actually park my car partially underneath its canopy flanking the Benenson Ornamental Conifers parking lot. With such frequent viewing, I get to enjoy the progress this plant makes throughout the year.
Parrotia persica, commonly known as Persian parrotia or Persian ironwood (in reference to its very dense wood) is an excellent medium-sized tree that is interesting in all four seasons. It features similar leaves, twigs, flowers, and fruits to its close relative the witch-hazel (Hamamelis), but is far less common in cultivation.
Parrotia is named in honor of F.W. Parrot, a German naturalist who traveled in the Caucasus region in the early 1830s. The specific epithet persica derives from the tree’s native habitat of the northern Alborz Mountains of Iran and Azerbaijan (formerly Persia).
Winter in the Garden is far from a sleepy season. With the deciduous trees stripped of their leaves and the branches reaching over and across one other, the grounds adopt a new face—one defined by stark lines and contrasts sparked with small bunches of colorful berries. Groups of birds lunch in and around the trees, and if you’re lucky, you’ll catch sight of a hunting raptor, a Red-tailed Hawk or a Great-horned Owl on a diurnal run. In the conifers you’ll see the classic hunter greens of snow-dusted pine needles arching above the first blooming snowdrops.
Once you’ve admired the New York miniatures of the Holiday Train Show with all its twinkling lights, and stopped to sing along with your kids during a performance of All Aboard with Thomas & Friends, be sure to save some daylight for a walk in the 50-acre Forest. It’s about as close as you can get to seclusion in NYC, and well worth the time spent aimlessly wandering the winding trails. And I do mean aimlessly—it’s pretty gratifying to find yourself strolling along a path you’ve never seen before, more so with a little snow blanketing the branches above.
Back in the peaceful reaches of the Benenson Ornamental Conifers, there’s a question to be asked. Is there stock to be put in rarity, and does pairing that quality with beauty somehow amplify the “value” of what we’re looking at? I’m not about to try and delineate the boundaries of taste and worth; we work to preserve the future of plants, and that’s all there is to it. But there’s one species in mind that’s worth looking into.
Catalpa fargesii manages that unique combination of scarcity and beauty. A Chinese native found in regions such as Guangxi, Hunan, and Sichuan, even in its homeland it’s considered extremely rare in the wild, only “discovered” by Western dendrologists early in the 20th century. In the Western world, where few specimens have propagated in Europe or North America, it’s rarer still. Here in the U.S., for example, there are only two recorded Chinese catalpa trees of this kind. The Arnold Arboretum at Harvard has one, accessioned in 1914; The New York Botanical Garden is home to the other. In this case, “exclusive” is not a word to be tossed around lightly.
Sonia Uyterhoeven is Gardener for Public Education.
Last week we took a look at some of the more unusual conifers that grace the entrance of the Benenson Ornamental Conifer Collection at The New York Botanical Garden. This week, I am going to go for some homeowner appeal and discuss miniature and dwarf conifers.
The American Conifer Society classifies conifers by growth rate: miniature conifers grow less than one inch per year, dwarf conifers grow 1-6 inches per year, intermediate conifers grow 6-12 inches per year and large conifers grow more than a foot per year.
Miniature and dwarf conifers are basically trees disguised as shrubs – they can snuggle up to your perennials in an unobtrusive way and are wonderful additions to your container gardens. You often see the botanical epithet ‘nana’ attached to cultivar names – it means dwarf.
In the perennial garden, dwarf conifers provide winter interest. They give a nice permanent structure to the plantings. Many of the conifers have a graceful, architectural structure that flows effortlessly and mingles gregariously in amongst the drifts of perennials.
The approach of fall in the Garden brings with it the revitalization of one of our most classically scenic collections, the Peggy Rockefeller Rose Garden, where hundreds of cultivars revisit the colors of spring with a second bloom in September.
