Plants that say south

Southern Living, Spring 2002 by Bender, Steve

You don't need a map to know where you are. Ju jook at what's growing around you.

Impatiens, as beautiful as they may be, give you no sense of, place. You're as likely to see them groWing in Rome. Italy, as,in Rome. Georgia. Certain other plants, though, define our region-- they imprint themselves, by their grandeur context, or history, onto our collective consciousness.

Live Oak

There is no more potent symbol of the South than the magnificent live oak (Quercus virginiana). Native to the Coastal Plain from southern Virginia down to Florida and on west to Texas, this singular tree exemplifies much of what we admire about our region: strength, size, longevity, fortitude, and grace. Together with its epiphytic consort, Spanish moss, it bestows a sense of place upon such old port cities as Savannah, Mobile, New Orleans, and Charleston, South Carolina.

While a live oak's upper limbs may reach 80 feet, its lower ones often stretch out twice as far. Thick as the trunks of lesser trees, these boughs sweep the ground with their tips. Ann deSaussure, a resident of Yeamans Hall, near Charleston, points to this habit when asked to describe the special quality of this tree. "It's the way that a live oak reaches out," she says. "It embraces you."

Kudzu

"Embrace" is certainly a word that could be applied to the infamous vine that ate the South. In fact, ever since kudzu (Pueraria lobata) was first brought to our region around 1880, it has embraced-engulfed-hillsides, forests, telephone poles, dilapidated houses, and snoozing husbands with equal affection. Imported from the Orient as an ornamental, it found eager advocates among highway departments, who planted it along roads to control erosion. Farmers also planted it as forage for cattle. Whatever the cattle haven't eaten or barreling 18-wheelers haven't squashed, however, has overrun the landscape.

While we often lament the scourge of kudzu, we'd dearly miss it if it disappeared. "Whenever I have dared to venture from the South, I am always strangely comforted by the sight of kudzu washing over the landscape when I return," says Nelson McCrary of Vincent, Alabama. "It is then that I know I am, indeed, home!"

Hydrangea

As with kudzu, many plants we consider Southern actually hail from Japan and China. Such is the case with evergreen azaleas, wisteria, and nandina. It's also true of our beloved French hydrangea (Hydrangea macrophylla). A Swedish physician first brought it to Europe from Japan in the 18th century. It then crossed the Atlantic. Opulent summer blooms in colors of blue, purple, pink, and white have been turning Southern heads ever since.

No one has been smitten more than Atlanta's Penny McHenry. Penny received her first hydrangea as a memorial to her daughter who tragically passed away. The shrub thrived under Penny's care, encouraging her to plant more-hundreds more, actually. Today, her summer garden is a circus of blooms she dubs "Hydrangea Heaven."

Camellia

Speaking of French, today's Southern gardens owe much of their riches to a French naturalist named Andre Michaux, who moved to Charleston, South Carolina, in 1787. In return for sending New World plants to Europe, he conferred upon the South a bounty of exotic plants that became emblematic of our gardens. Examples include tea olive, mimosa, Chinese tallow, and crepe myrtle.

Of all Michaux's gifts, we treasure none greater than the plant he introduced to Charleston's Middleton Place plantation when visiting the area in 1786: the common camellia (Camellia japonica). Such was the impact of its myriad flower colors and forms that people coveted camellias like precious jewels.

It is hard to imagine a classic Southern garden without a venerable camellia. An established plant is surprisingly tough, drought resistant, and long-lived; century-old ones may reach 25 feet tall and wide.

Magnolia

If there is one plant frustrated Northerners wish they could grow, it may well be Southern magnolia (Magnolia grandiflora). Native to the Southeast, this tree does everything in a big way. It grows upwards of 80 feet tall and 40 feet wide; it sports glossy, evergreen leaves up to 8 inches long; and it perfumes the months of April through June with gargantuan, sweet-- smelling blooms the color of ivory. I remember getting absolutely filthy climbing a giant sooty-barked magnolia in front of my grandfather's house as a kid. Nearly four decades later, the tree still guards the house, as if awaiting my return.

Mississippi writer Felder Rushing says the prospect of planting an enduring legacy appeals to Southerners who prize magnolias. "If you're looking to plant something that will outlive your grandchildren, you're talking magnolias, red cedars, and bald cypress," he states. "Put all three in a garden, and you can never go wrong."

Southern Flowers

So far, our discussion of cherished Southern plants has dealt with trees, shrubs, and vines. Let's not forget the flowers that instantly place us in the South. For instance, indestructible milk and wine lilies grow from bulbs big enough to plant with a backhoe, and glorious fields of bluebonnets give Texas a second sky every spring.