The vase-like shape of Hamamelis x intermedia ‘Arnold Promise’. Photographs courtesy Greer Gardens
Imagine walking into your garden on a frosty midwinter morning. The sun is just peeking through the overhanging branches of a magnolia. You come across a small tree, barren of leaves but possessing a great multitude of curious golden yellow tufts. As the sun illuminates these tiny fists, suddenly wispy fingers unfurl in response to the new warmth: the shrub’s spidery flowers burst forth along the branches like tiny sulfur flames. Then your olfactory senses are treated to an intoxicating citrus scent. A smile crosses your face. Just maybe, you think, immersed in the sublime winter luminosity of a witch hazel, spring is not that far off.
What distinguishes witch hazels in the plant world is that flowers, fruits, and next year’s leaf buds can manifest simultaneously on the plants; indeed, the generic name Hamamelis translates as “together with fruit.” Some witch hazels put on a fall color show, their foliage aging from butter yellow to orange, finally turning scarlet before falling exhausted to the ground. The ...
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Articles: Calochortophilia: A Californian’s Love Affair with a Genus by Katherine Renz
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