A Zabelia by any other name would smell as sweet

I got into a spirited debate a few months ago with a visitor to the nursery about changes of scientific names. I know it’s something that infuriates many gardeners. I think the spark in this case was the recent changes to Abelia, but it could have been any number of other instances where well-established and time-honoured names had been changed, seemingly on a whim by a bunch of egg-heads who want nothing more than to change things for change’s sake, to justify their continued employment and perhaps to see their name in print.
With this particular visitor I could hardly get a word in edgeways, so incensed was she, so the exchange wasn’t very productive. All I could do was to try to assure her that there was another side to the argument. One of the problems is that the academics are used to talking to other scientists and even when they write in less learned publications, they are not always good at getting their ideas across to the layman. I was in the belly of the scientific beast for a few years so perhaps I’m in a better position to bridge the gap. Having said that it’s a good ten years since I was there so I’m not up to date with the latest findings.

Firstly I’m sure there must be some that simply don’t like change. Some people only feel comfortable with things being ‘the way they always have been’. What this actually means is that they want things to be the way they were when they were young, ignoring the fact that many of the names they take for granted were new names then. After all, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone talk about Funkia or Megasea, including the 96 year-old lady I work for. We have all accepted the new names (Hosta and Bergenia respectively.)
My first point then, which I think most of us would agree on is that at least some changes are inevitable and acceptable and that resisting all change on principal is just stubbornness. I assume most of us aren’t like that.

My photocopy of one of the early drafts of the
 angiosperm phylogeny, complete with my
excited scribblings

I should own up here though. When I was at the Joddrell at Kew, back in the mid-nineties, doing my MSc thesis (on the classification of Lilium and Fritillaria) I did find the whole thing completely wonderful. I remember seeing what must have been one of the early drafts of the Angiosperm Phylogeny – the flowering plant family tree - there on the wall, five or six sheets of A4 taped together and pinned to a notice board, showing how the plants I knew (and many I didn’t) were related. I took it down and photo-copied it and I still have it. It was a wonderful thing to look at – as the periodic table is to chemists or the Rosetta Stone to archeologists – everything was there, laid out in its place, connected to everything else. (Well – not everything. The angiosperm phylogeny has been added to and improved ever since. If you want to see the latest have a look at the Angiosperm Phylogeny Group web pages http://www.mobot.org/MOBOT/research/APweb/ but it is pretty hard to get a grip on if you’re not used to the terminology. For a more approachable version have a look at The Tree of Life http://tolweb.org/tree/)
All this has become possible partly due to the fact that we can now ‘read’ DNA (and related molecules like RNA), and also to the recent massive increase in computing power. Molecular analysis has made it possible to get a grip on how things are actually related, not just on what look similar, and a scientific classification is all about relatedness – about evolution. (If you have a problem with evolution you won’t have much time for what I’m saying here.)
My second point then is that since the early nineties, when DNA analysis came of age, there has been a sort of renaissance in classification (taxonomy, systematics) not just of plants but of all organisms. A huge amount of new data based on evidence rather than personal (albeit learned) opinion has become available. It’s going to take a while to settle down, but if it seems like everything is changing at the moment, plant-names-wise, there’s a very good reason for that.

‘But what does all this have to do with gardening?’ I hear you cry. ‘Why should we have follow what the scientists say?’
No reason at all. As horticulturalists we would be perfectly within our rights to come up with our own system. To some extent we already do. We classify plants according to flower colour or edibility, season or size. We use common names when they are convenient (I can’t imagine ever talking about a Taxus hedge) and we have an elaborate system of cultivar names more Byzantine than anything the taxonomists have dreamed up. But I’d be reluctant, partly because I’m interested in the science and I like scientific names. Mainly we will carry on using the scientific system because coming up with a completely new one that is robust and consistent would be such an onerous task.

But in any case, I would carry on using the scientific system because I think it’s useful. It may sound strange but I use it all the time. Running a nursery full of plants that not many other people are growing means that I constantly have to make guesses about what kinds of conditions a plant might respond to. When I start working with a new plant I want to know two things – ‘Where does it come from?’ and ‘What is it related to?’ I know that the Primulaceae and Ranunculaceae don’t like their seeds drying out. I know that the Brassicaceae generally like alkaline soils where the Ericaceae do not. I can guess that Malus trilobatus can be grafted onto Crataegus but not onto Prunus. I know that any new members of the Euphorbiaceae and Solanaceae are likely to be poisonous but that the Malvaceae and Brassicaceae will probably be edible. I know that susceptibility to disease is often governed by relatedness – potato blight infecting tomatoes for example. And so on and so forth. There’s no point even trying to do this if we don’t really know what belongs where.

I know there are plenty of exceptions but I find that being able to make educated guesses from general knowledge about plants is more useful than not. And in any case, like I said, I just love that big picture – that all these plants (and all the other life forms too) are interrelated in time and space.

Phlomis samia

A very unusual species grown for its smoky suede brown flowers. These are born in whorls on upright stems like other Phlomis, but this is a hardy herbaceous perennial, dying down to a leafy rosette in winter, rather than a shrub. There are a few other herbaceous Phlomis, including the more familiar russeliana and cashmeriana but despite the less colourful flowers I like this one best. Tough and adaptable.
sold out for now

Cirsium oleraceum

A big lush green non-spiky thistle from the mountain woods of central Europe. The flowers appear on tall upright stems in late summer/autumn and are relatively small and white but held among pale green bracts which makes them rather striking.

For cool damp and/or semi shady sites. The young stems and leaves are a good edible vegetable apparently, especially if blanched.
5L pots ~ £12

Cissus striata

There are not that many evergreen climbers hardy in the UK, and this South American vine is decidedly borderline but worth considering for sheltered sites, especially in shady spots. It's a close relative of the Virginia Creepers and Boston Ivies (Parthenocissus sp) but with neat glossy leaves and far less rampageous and being evergreen of course, it does not colour up in the Autumn. 

The plant in the picture grows on the front of the house where it is a bit too exposed. In this situation it behaves as a herbaceous climber, being more or less cut to the ground in hard winters. Even so it has always come back in spring and clothes the porch wall very nicely every summer. In warmer climates it gets a lot bigger and makes pale flowers and black berries. It can also be grown as a house plant.

£18

Coming of Age?

It's looking like being a big year here at Brighton Plants. First up is the big box of plant labels sitting beside me here all printed up and ready to go. We've invested in a label printer (a Labelstation Pro 200. Thanks mum!) so no more frantically hand-writing labels as customers gather up their goodies at the nursery gate.
Secondly I've got us a card reader (Streamline) so I can take debit and credit card payments too. It was very exciting last Saturday when my first card transaction went through without a glitch. The customer seemed as excited as I was when the little receipts came out with our name on them. So all in all it's looking a lot more business-like around here.

The weather's been the big story for all us horticultural folk of course. No frost to speak of but way too much wind and rain has taken its toll on all of us. The nursery though is on high ground so the water drains away quickly. Generally the damage was minimal and I'm glad to say the tunnel is well-anchored enough to withstand the gales. It is leaning at a funny angle now though.

It's been a big year for the Hoards of Mollusca too and I'm having to take pest control a lot more seriously now they've found me. I'm particularly disgusted with the species of slug that likes to fell Iris flower stems just before the flowers open. I can't believe that tiny bit of stem is worth the trouble so I assume the resulting wilted buds are easier to eat in some way. At any rate it's incredibly infuriating. The culprits appear to be the juveniles of the common big yellow slug (Arion sp.)

I'd always maintained that the adults were relatively harmless compared to some of the others, feeding mainly on dead and dying matter but the newly hatched offspring seem to be among the worst of the lot, and in a wet year like this their activity has been devastating. I've also had a lot more garden snails than before. Sigh...

I was probably being a little over-optimistic when I said I thought the peat-free composts were unattractive to vine-weevils as I've certainly had a few this season, along with the leather-jackets (crane fly larvae) both of which destroy the roots of plants. Still I'm trying to avoid chemicals and am going for biological control as much as possible - Nematodes for both insect larvae and slug and snail control. The one pest I haven't yet worked out how to control effectively is capsid bugs which make a mess of the new foliage of several species but which are quick active insects, not hanging around to be squished or sprayed or parasitised as aphids do. I don't want to have to just spray everything with poison so if anybody knows a good biological control I'd be very interested.

As for the plants, which, after all, is the bit you're interested in, I'm continuing to add more rare but gorgeous items from all over the world.


Continuing my efforts to bring in more of the strangely untapped Mediterranean goodies for those of us trying to find interesting things to grow on impoverished and especially chalky soils, I have small quantities of the gorgeous Spanish Erinacea anthyllis (aka E.pungens, above) a low incredibly spiky broom which covers itself in violet pea flowers in spring.
And speaking of brooms I'm offering Genista aetnensis and two species of Retama (aka Lygos) - sphaerocarpa and monosperma - which are wiry silvery weeping brooms and not at all garish. The former has mustard yellow flowers, the latter has white. Both are generally considered on the tender side but these are from seed collected in central Spain which, if you've been there in winter, you'll know can be bitter.
I also have a few plants of Spartocytisus supranubius (above) which is a broom from the mountains of Tenerife which makes dense upright clusters of rather thick silvery grey leafless shoots covered in fragrant rosy white pea flowers in spring. Hillier's manual of trees and shrubs says "remained uninjured by snow and wind for several years in our relatively cold area" so definitely worth a try in a sunny dry spot over here.

I also have the feeling that thistles could be the new Euphorbias (yes, I did say 'thistles'). As far as I can tell, before Beth Chatto went on and on about them hardly anyone thought much of spurges as ornamentals, but now look at them. The thistle group (tribe Cynarae) includes the cardoons and globe artichokes (Cynara) as well as the Centaureas and their brethren. Besides these the Mediterranean region has more than its fair share of thistles and many are dramatic and exciting plants and there are some magnificent Asian species. 'But aren't they likely to be weeds?' I hear you cry. No more than any other group I think. It's hard to think of a group of plants that doesn't include at least one major weed. Think of Rhododendron... 'But aren't they nasty spiky things?' No more than Eryngium, which are another of Beth Chattos big contributions to popular gardening. And less so than roses, which always seem to catch me out...

As yet I only have a few on offer but those have sold out remarkably quickly - in particular the (relatively) small Cynara humilis (above), both in its natural violet and also the white flowered forms, but I also have a crop of C.baetica maroccana ready to go - a stunning dwarf cardoon with a shocking pink involucre (the spiky scaly thing that holds the flower) and violet florets. Also on the way are Carduus defloratus and Cirsium oleraceum (both alpines), not to mention Staehelina dubia - a Mediterranean sub shrub with very pale foliage a bit like the curry plant, and delicate pink Centaurea flowers above, plus Leuzea centauroides and Carduncellus dianius. (Please excuse the possibly out of date nomenclature - the group seems to be under revision at the moment.)

What else? I am persevering with the species Penstemon and Asclepias. Both have proved challenging but I have made some discoveries.
Of the former, I've developed a bit of a collection of more unusual species from the easier procerus and serrulatus groups, such as whippleanus and rydbergii, richardsonii and venustus which are all very lovely but I can't seem to resist trying again with the gorgeous vivid blue flowering species of the habroanthus group such as mensarum (below) and hallii.

These have proved short lived and part of the problem seems to be that they get into difficulties after flowering. As the new basal growth develops the rhizomes seem to become exposed and wither, but I've discovered that potting them on into bigger pots a little lower than they were so the basal growth is covered with grit or gritty compost seems to prolong their life considerably. In the wild they are often found as pioneer plants on shifting soils and road sides where they get half buried in shifting soil and in the garden, giving them a gritty mulch could have the same effect.
I should point out here that they also hate drying out in their pots. This may come as a surprise - being among the most drought tolerant things I grow. The problem is that plants can be drought tolerant in different ways. Some simply store water (eg. cacti) or have other ways to reduce water loss (eg. bromeliads) but many cope by sending their roots down deep where there is always some moisture, and these, as you might expect, do not cope with drying out in their pots at all well and that includes my Penstemon. Potting them on each year helps a lot.


Asclepias - especially the more western arid growing ones have been succumbing to some horrible black lurgy and I have nothing much to sell at the moment. Something Barry Clarke (the national collection holder) said made me think that they dislike being in small containers so I've potted my remaining plants on into really big pots and already they look happier. Getting them out into the open garden would be even better.


Other things coming along swiftly but not yet listed include Aesculus californica - the Californian Buckeye (that's Horse Chestnut to us Brits) a phenomenal large shrub with good foliage and pale bark and fat white scented 'candles'. Hardly ever available in the UK except sometimes grafted onto A.hippocastanum, I imported a lot of conkers last autumn, got almost 100% germination and they're already about 8ins high. This will be an excellent opportunity to get this fabulous plant more widely grown over here. Completely hardy given a sunny well-drained site by the way.

Rubus Rubus Rubus Rubus!

Another much underestimated group of plants. I'd been aware that there are some good ones but didn't know quite how many, or how varied they were until, last summer I visited Barry Clarke - the national collection holder. I went to look at his Asclepias collection and came away raving about Rubus. He was incredibly generous not only with his time but also with plants and cutting material so this year I already have plants to sell. Thanks Barry.

A word of reassurance - people are understandably wary of introducing Rubus to their gardens - there are undoubtedly some out-and-out monsters among them (our native blackberry most obviously) but there are also some very choice and well-behaved species too. Gardeners who have come to regret planting R.spectabilis (a good-looking but irrepressible suckerer) or tricolor (one of the most invasive ground-covers I know of) or taiwanicola (looks so cute in its little pot until you let it loose on your rockery!) needn't fear.
One of those I mention below does sucker but modestly, and a couple of others creep about, rooting at the tips if they get the chance, but are easily cropped back. Most benefit from being given space so as not to have to trim them back too hard all the time. All do best in shade - even quite deep shade and can be grown under evergreens as long as it's not too dry under there.
Mainly these are grown for their foliage but the flowers, though subtle, are worth looking out for too, and if they produce fruit they won't be poisonous and some might be worth harvesting.

Rubus Rushbrook Red Leaf

Grown mainly for the richly coloured and textured new leaves.
The red and white buds are especially striking.

This is an 'informal' rambling species best grown either as a sort of mound, allowed to scramble about among other shrubs, or trained in as a climber. Potentially quite big but by no means uncontrollable. Thanks to Barry for this one.
4L pots ~ £12

Rubus formosensis

Very much a ground-covering species, reminiscent of some of the more rampant types sometimes offered but much choicer in every way - especially the soft felted new growth.

Excellent in moist shade. Rather pretty nodding white flowers too. Another of Barry's gifts.
sold out

Dodecatheon austrofrigidum

Similar to D.dentatum, but with more substantial rosettes of leaves, and with pink flowers on taller stems. Although not the most spectacular, I’ve found this the easiest Dodecatheon to keep in ordinary woodsy garden conditions.
10cm pots ~ £6