Leucojum aestivum

I was at my folks' place yesterday after doing some site work in a nearby town.  I wanted to check up on the garden and see how things were looking.  I have to say, I was pretty pleased!  The whole front looks like we're almost in May, rather than just in the first days of April.  The boxwoods are growing like mad, and the Chionanthus virginicus has tons of buds on it.  Iris germanica is in full bloom, but no sign of the Allium giganteum, which, last year, was blooming at the same time as the irises.

Dotting the garden, in little pointillist spots of white, were the blossoms of Leucojum aestivum or spring snowflake.  

This is a great go-to bulb in this area (Virginia).  The deer stay away from it, it multiplies like crazy and it's perfectly lovely.  The tall stems of white blossoms remain visible over the burgeoning perennial foliage and it adds a lovely sprinkling of botanical salt (or as the common name suggest, snow) on a spring garden.

Spring at Mom and Dad's

Last fall, one of my first major projects to start construction was facelifting my parents' 20 year old landscape.   A landscape designer had installed foundation plants like Ilex crenata which had gotten overgrown, and other undesirable choices (like the aggressively self-seeding Koelreuteria paniculata or the dreaded Bradford pear) had declined and been removed, leaving gaps.

I didn't want to go with the typical builder's foundation planting and instead wanted to play up the formality of their house and find a home for hundreds of perennials that were available for transplanting from the backyard. Finally, I wanted to center small, sculptural trees in front of the windows of their study and living room.

To accommodate one of the smaller trees I could think of (Chionanthus virginicus) we still had to widen the path.  The dotted line above indicates the previous paving.  With the help of a great landscaper/handyman, we offset the path four feet, which makes a small terrace in front of the portico which eventually will be furnished with a bench and maybe some pots.

The shot above is after installation, right around the first week in November.  Eventually the boxwoods will connect and form a hedge, hemming in the loose array of perennials and reducing the amount of visible mulch. 

Everything overwintered beautifully and as things bloom this spring and summer I'll be sharing pics.  Right now, the Allium giganteum and Iris germanica are days away from blooming and the Chionanthus is just leafing out.

Meanwhile, the Viburnum plicatum 'Popcorn' is just beginning to bloom.

And Fothergilla gardenii is in full bloom.

As is Aronia arbutitifolia.
 

...It's also worth noting all these plants have avoided being deer food!

Taxus baccata

Similar to yesterday's post on Tsuga, today's post on Taxus is much-overdue.  The specimen below (taken at Longwood) is Taxus baccata or English yew.  

When it comes to yews, I'm not really sure where to begin.  They are however, truly misrepresented here in the states.  The specimen photographed for this post is lovely and no doubt it's well over 100 years old, but that's hardly significant when you compare it to the famous specimens in England which are estimated to be 3000-4000 years old.  One of the more famous yews is the one in Llangernyw, which has a circumference of 47'.  Dirr writes lovingly of his experience near a 3000 year old specimen in Dundonnell, Scotland: For a brief moment one could imagine the gathering of the clans, the wailing of the bag pipes and the call to battle.

I remember working at a plant nursery in high school and at that point, my only exposure to yews was their prolific use on college campuses as hedges or in soulless foundation plantings around strip malls and fast food joints.  I remember having difficulty reconciling those images of yews with Thomas Hardy's Tess of the D'Urbervilles, where the plants were referenced as such:

It was somewhat disguised from the road in passing it by yews and evergreen oaks, but it was visible enough up here. 

And later:

Darkness and silence ruled everywhere around.  Above them rose the primeval yews and oaks of The Chase, in which were poised gentle roosting birds in their last nap; and about them stole the hopping rabbits and hares.

In short: to really, truly appreciate this plant, go to England.

Back to our American specimen.  The bark on a mature yew tree is rich in tones of cinnamon, brown and green and the bark has a shaggy, exfoliating quality.  When in partial shade, the leaves appear in two ranks along the stem.  Red fruits appear on the plant in late summer/fall.  The fruits are the only parts of this species that are not highly toxic.  (That's because the seed is toxic and our stomachs aren't capable of digesting it enough so that the poison is released.)  All other parts of the plant are quite dangerous.

In addition to the large spreading trees that Taxus baccata can become, they are also regularly used for topiary.  Yew topiary is far more common in Europe but Longwood does have a serviceable garden showing the possibilities. 

Finally, one can't talk about yews without mentioning that they are like chocolate-coated crack cocaine to deer.  If you have even a whiff of a deer presence in your area, do not bother using any species of Taxus as they will quickly be devoured.