Redbud Respect

ProfessorRoush, is appreciating the multiple Eastern Redbuds (Cercis canadensis) that are this year, if ever-so-briefly, the shining jewels of my world, focal spots of happiness who seldom get the recognition they deserve in the landscape or in print.  In fact, I am taking special notice of redbuds popping, intentionally planted and wild, all over town, bright pink-red blooms beating the crabapples and Bradford pears into bloom and stealing the spotlight from the sparse lime-green Spring foliage of other trees.  Soon, they will fade into the background, underappreciated understory trees lost among their distant lignacious cousins.  

A prominent specimen in my yard, pictured at the left, was a volunteer in my back landscape bed which I have allowed to remain in its self-chosen spot and nurtured to adolescence.  In fact, "nursed" might be a more accurate term than "nurtured", as this tree split into two during a violent windstorm several years back and I braced and bandaged and pruned and healed it to its current form.  Among the many storied uses of Duct Tape, I can add "tree bandage" to the list from personal experience.

Of the 7 or 8 redbuds in my yard, only one was intentionally planted, the aging specimen pictured here at the right, the favorite tree of Mrs. ProfessorRoush and planted just outside the laundry room window. Viewed from the road in front of the house, it frames the right side of the driveway and decorates and anchors the house.  Seen "down the hill" and into the garden, it serves as a complimentary backdrop to the floriferous 'Annabelle' lilac terraced below it, the latter the first of my lilacs to bloom.

 

I have noticed the redbuds especially this year because the fickle Kansas weather preempted and eliminated last year's bloom with a miserably-timed freeze, a not-so-uncommon occurrence that happens here, according to my notes, about one year in five.   A redbud-less Spring is, I can confirm, intensely discouraging, and similarly disheartening in spirit as other dysfunctions of daily life.  Such a depressing interruption of our annual cycle drowns our spirits in disappointment (some choose drowning their disappointment in spirits) while we attempt to sustain some minor hope for the best for next year.  Sine qua non, while the late night television lineup seems packed with commercials of remedies for erectile dysfunction (which it demurely refers to as "ED"), there is no known cure for gardeners who suffer from RD (redbud dysfunction). 

My notes also tell me that the redbuds are blooming early this year, a full 10 days ahead of their average peak.  I originally thought it was a late Spring, but while some species are blooming later than normal (Scilla, daffodils), others seem to be early.  Perhaps the long cold Winter and sudden, extended, warm period in mid-March has compressed the season. Some species and accurate dates, sadly, are often respectively missing or suspect as I am prone to only note early blooming species and choose those notations by whim. And consistently, by late April I fade away and stop recording.  So some years I mention the first blooms of some species and other years I don't record them but have notes of other flowers.   A better system might be to take notes of blooming plants on specific days; the 1st, 5th, 10th, etc. of each month, for example, which might improve accuracy and consistency.

The last two photos here reflect the remaining redbuds in my garden.   On the annual Manhattan Area Garden Tour a decade back, I noted that one homeowner had created a "grove" of redbuds.   Intrigued by the idea, I have collected, over several years, a half-dozen of volunteer redbud seedlings from their birth sites and replanted them beneath a Cottonwood tree at the back of the yard.   Here around the solid garden bench and protected by the Cottonwood, some have grown enough to be noticeable at bloom, and in 5-10 years, I expect this to be a wondrous focal point, full of mystery and life and Spring fairies each year.

Redbud Ruminations

A native Spring stalwart, the Eastern Redbud (Cercis canadensis) began to bloom here in the Flint Hills just yesterday.  I was beginning to be afraid this day might not arrive this year, it felt so late, but I was fretting under a false assumption.

See, this is why you keep records.  As I've written before and as a general rule, I'm pretty terrible about keeping records, but redbud first bloom dates are perhaps my one exception to the rule.  And I thought this year was pretty late, now the second week of April, for the redbuds to start blooming.  But a check of my notes informs me that I'm not only wrong, I'm dead wrong.  In six of the past 8 years, the redbud outside our laundry window first bloomed from 4/10 to 4/24.  In the "unordinary" years 2007 and 2009, the weather was askew and things were obviously out of whack.  In 2007, my redbud bloomed early on 3/31/07 after a warm Spring, but then we got hit by the terrible black freeze of mid-April so the redbud was perhaps the only thing that did bloom that spring.  And in 2009, we had 3 inches of snow and sleet on March 28th, and according to my notes, my redbud didn't bloom at all that year, probably due to that late storm damage.  Of course, it's possible that I've slipped into this parallel Universe from one where my memory is correct and redbud trees do bloom earlier in Kansas, but since the written records correspond to this current Universe, how would I know?  How many redbuds can dance on the head of a pin?   

I'm always jumping the garden gun and starting Spring yard work a mite early, so the key lesson here is probably to learn some patience.  I should rejoice, I guess, that my redbud has waited till now to bloom, because it probably means we've had a normal pace of spring and the garden will be better for it.  But I should also confess that I'm not especially fond of redbud trees.  I've never been able to cozy up and embrace the fuchsia-pink color of the native redbuds, so I use them as an indicator of the beginning of the garden season and when to have put the crabgrass preventer on the lawn, but I don't crave their color as I do my red peach tree.  Perhaps I should have chosen one of the named cultivars such as 'Forest Pansy' or 'Pinkbud'?  

 After seeing a stunning example from another local gardener, I will admit that I started a redbud grove beneath a cottonwood tree using several volunteer redbuds to make an understory group at the back of my garden.  And I know some of you are asking why, if I'm not partial to redbud trees, I have one growing as a specimen tree right outside our laundry room window and back door, but the reason for that contradiction is simple.  Mrs. ProfessorRoush loves redbud trees.  And so I planted it, the first tree beside the new house, where she'll get the most pleasure out of it.  Take it from me, fellow husband-gardeners, redbud trees do not have a "manly" color, but planting that tree in your garden will pay dividends every year.