Heather

I mentioned last week, when I blogged about my whale sighting, that I had gone for a run north to the neighboring town and had gotten a few pics of a plant in bloom. The plant in question is a species of heather, or heath, though I won't guess which species it is.  I'll only give you the genus, which is Erica.  

Erica is, quite obviously, in the Ericaceae or heath family.  I also often refer to it as the blueberry family, as Vaccinium is a member as well.  Other popular relatives include Rhododendron, Kalmia, Leucothoe, Eurobotrys, Pieris and Oxydendron.  (By the way, I CANNOT believe I haven't written about Oxydendron yet.  Shameful!)  Similar to many plants in its family, Erica prefers acidic, well drained soil.  Genera native to the US are often found growing in shady wooded mountainsides, whereas Erica species (over 700 of them) are typical to locations like the fynbos in South Africa or the moors and heaths of the British Isles.

Depending on your exposure to romantic English literature, you probably remember references to the moors in books like Wuthering Heights, by Emily Brontë.  The moors of Dartmoor are also featured in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Hound of the Baskervilles, a Sherlock Holmes story. 

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.