Foliage Friday: Nandina 'Blush Pink'

Years ago, I developed a strong dislike, verging on hatred, for nandina.  People who don't garden are always a little surprised that we can actually hate a plant, but we can and we do.  Every gardener I know has a plant that she secretly (or not so secretly) despises, sometimes for no reason at all.  I'll confess, I hate red annual salvia, like 'Lady in Red,' and also the bronze-leaf wax begonias.  No reason.  Just hate them.

But I had a good reason, long ago, for disliking nandina.  The Chief Engineer and I had just bought our first house together, and I took it into my head to dig out the nandinas in the front and replace them with azaleas.  The house boasted two huge Camellia japonicas, and to my way of thinking, only azaleas would do.  Digging them out nearly killed us.  Eventually, we had to tie one of the rootballs to the truck and pull it out.

However, it's been over 20 years and I'm coming around.  This winter, the nandina were stunning, perhaps because most of our tropicals and semi-tropicals were so badly frozen.  The leaf color was rich and dark green or red and the berries were abundant.  I feel better about nandina now.

Nandina 'Blush Pink'

Here's a nandina that's especially pretty.  'Blush Pink' is a sport of an old nandina favorite, 'Firepower.'  The new growth is almost red and contrasts nicely with the bright lime-green older foliage.  This nandina's on the compact size and should only reach about 3 feet tall.  All nandinas tolerate bright shade and make a nice, evergreen foundation plant for the South.

Note:  some jurisdictions list Nandina, or Heavenly Bamboo, as an invasive species.  Some experts disagree.  They do sucker outward, forming ever-larger clumps. 

Golden Rain Tree, I've Been Waiting For You!

Our version of fall color

 It's true we don't get the spectacular fall color some folks do.  Our red maples are red in the spring, when the flowers open.  We actually feel guilty when we see red foliage in the fall: it indicates the presence of the Chinese Tallow Tree, an invasive species that now accounts for 23% of the trees in the 8-county Houston area.  (Here's the Houston Regional Forest Report.)

Mature Golden Rain Tree

But I'm in love with another introduced tree that is beautiful in the fall:  The Golden Rain Tree, or Koelreuteria paniculata.  The fast-growing tree is also on some invasive plants lists, and probably I shouldn't love it but I do.  All summer it provides beautiful shade but the real show is in the late summer and early fall.

Golden Rain Tree flowers

The flowers are a bright golden-yellow, and they are carried high above the canopy, in full view of every passerby.  After the tree is fully in bloom, the seed pods form, a bright coral-pink color that is even more spectacular than the flowers.

Golden Rain Tree Seedpods

Golden Rain Trees grow to a height of 30-40 feet tall and are tolerant of a wide variety of soils.  They flower best in full sun.  I love seeing them this time of year.  They do reseed prolifically, but not more than our native red maple does.  I might have to plant one anyway, and do environmental penance somehow later!

All photos in this post: Tom Barrow

San Antonio Japanese Tea Garden

Japanese Tea Garden

After a delicious lunch (chicken salad!) Friday, we headed over to the Japanese Tea Garden, only a few miles from the Botanical Garden.  This strange and beautiful place is the site of an old rock quarry that operated in San Antonio until 1908.  By then, the land around the quarry had already been donated to the city as Brackenridge Park.  In 1915, the land adjacent to the quarry was donated to the city by Emma Koehler, widow of Pearl Brewery founder Otto Koehler.  The unusual locale posed quite a challenge for the city Parks Department, but finally Parks Commissioner Ray Lambert hit upon the idea of a lily pond.  He and his city engineer, with very little money, constructed the garden in 1917-1918, using prison labor to transform the quarry into a Japanese-style garden.  Plants, building materials and services were donated to the city and when all was said and done, the project was completed for about $7,000.  Today, the Japanese Tea Garden is a Texas Civil Engineering Landmark, and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

Way above the koi ponds.

The Japanese Tea Garden features lush landscaping, rock paths, bridges, waterfalls and koi ponds. Admission is free, and it's a lovely place to spend a sunny fall afternoon.  Here's a few of the things we saw there.

Koi of all colors.

Some of the largest koi I ever saw live there.  Most were beautiful, but be forewarned!  There's a scary battleship-gray sort prowling around in the shadows.  They look like stealthy submarines down there.  I also learned that it's hard to photograph fish.

Arundo donax

The plant in the foreground is Arundo donax, or Carrizo Cane.  It's growing in isolated spots in the garden.  This wildly aggressive grass-like plant is native to warm parts of Asia and Africa.  Although it's widely planted throughout the temperate regions of the world, my guess is that people regret it. 

Creeping Fig Ivy -- with figs!

Creeping Fig Ivy -- notice the immature vs. mature leaves?

And speaking of regret, I was horrified to see a huge wall covered in creeping fig ivy.  This vine had gotten so big that it had actually begun to bear fruit.  Look closely at the first picture above.  See the yellowish fruits?  Those are the "figs."  I should really put my house on the market and try to forget that I ever planted it.

Waterfall

The pond  is quite shallow, but very clear.  There's an extensive filtration system that was renovated in 2007.

The lagoon

I don't know if you can see the koi in this picture.  It was taken from high atop the old tea garden house.  Those koi are as big as aircraft carriers.

Good guy, not bad guy.

Ligustrum japonicum

Ligustrums are blooming right now.  The aroma brings to mind all the difficult questions associated with this notoriously well-adapted plant.  Evergreen ligustrum is hardy, easy to grow, and tolerates a wide range of soil and light conditions.  It is easy to root from cuttings and easy to graft; consequently, it's inexpensive to produce, making ligustrums a good bargain at the garden center.  Ligustrum hedges make a good screen and if planted in the right location, rarely need pruning.  They flower in spring, covering themselves with fragrant white flowers.  The blue-black berries form in late summer and persist through the winter, providing an abundant source of food for birds.

On the other hand, it is so well-adapted as to be considered invasive.  It quickly escapes cultivation, sprouting from seeds carried into wild areas by birds.  Because it grows so rapidly, it shades and out-competes native shrubs.  Most Southern lists of invasive plants include Ligustrum japonicum.  Moreover, some people find the fragrance offensive and some are allergic to its pollen.

What bothers me the most about ligustrum, though, is how people use it.  I hate to see ligustrum planted as if it will only be 4 feet tall and 2 feet wide.  Ligustrum can grow to 20 feet tall and 20 feet wide!  Planting them 18" apart in little tiny hedgerows is a recipe for disaster.  Someone (you?) will have to prune them regularly to maintain that unnatural size.  Even worse:  people who should know better include ligustrum in landscape designs, standards and guidelines.  Fort Bend County's West Fort Bend Management District specifically requires long, low hedges of them to be planted in every commercial development along our major corridors.  How low?  Four feet.  How close together?  Eighteen inches. 

I love plants too much to eliminate everything that isn't "native."  I wouldn't recommend ligustrums but I wouldn't ban them either.  Unless they were planted in little hedgerows!