Ilex paraguariensis is the holly behind maté, the caffeine-rich tea poured from a gourd and sipped through a metal straw across Argentina, Paraguay, Uruguay, and southern Brazil. As a plant, yerba maté is a broadleaf evergreen holly, a shrub or small tree with dark, leathery, serrated leaves, closely resembling the native dahoon holly, Ilex cassine, of the southeastern United States, and carrying the same small white flowers and, on female plants, small red berries.
Ilex 'Apollo' has one job in the garden, and does it superbly: pollination. A vigorous hybrid deciduous holly from the U.S. National Arboretum, crossing the Japanese winterberry, Ilex serrata, with the native American winterberry, Ilex verticillata, 'Apollo' was bred and released specifically as the male partner for the celebrated female 'Sparkleberry', and stands in equally well for 'Winter Red'.
Ilex verticillata ‘Red Sprite’ is winterberry shrunk to garden size and cranked up in intensity. Where much of the landscape fades to gray, this compact native holly turns into a beacon, the bare stems packed with heavy clusters of large, glossy scarlet berries that color in fall and cling deep into winter, a living ember at the pond’s edge or against fresh snow.
Every winterberry covered in red is hiding a secret, and his name is ‘Southern Gentleman’. Winterberry hollies are dioecious, male and female on separate plants, and only the pollinated females set the blazing red fruit the species is grown for. No male nearby, no berries. ‘Southern Gentleman’ is the male who makes the show possible, and asks for none of the credit.
Ilex ‘Sparkleberry’ is the aristocrat of the winterberries, a vigorous hybrid holly bred from the native winterberry, Ilex verticillata, and the Japanese winterberry, Ilex serrata. William F. Kosar made the cross at the U.S. National Arboretum in 1961, and the Arboretum released the plant in 1978, together with a male from the same cross named ‘Apollo’. The pairing brought hybrid vigor and a heavier, longer-holding crop: tall, upright stems that shed their leaves in fall and blaze with bright red fruit, persisting so well that the berries often hang on into March.
The anise trees, genus Illicium, are aromatic broadleaf evergreens of the star-anise family, Schisandraceae, named from the Latin illicium, an allurement, for the spicy scent the crushed leaves give off. Illicium anisatum is the Japanese anise, called shikimi in its homeland, a glossy, upright evergreen shrub or small tree with leathery, anise-scented leaves and pale creamy-yellow, star-shaped flowers in earliest spring.
Illicium parviflorum, the Ocala or small anise, is a rare Florida endemic, an aromatic evergreen of the star-anise family, Schisandraceae, tougher and more sun-tolerant than its showier cousin the Florida anise. 'Florida Sunshine' is the selection that made the species famous: a form whose foliage glows chartreuse-gold through spring and summer, holding the anise scent of the genus in leaves that light up a shaded corner.
The genus is the one that turned the Lowcountry blue. Indigofera gave colonial South Carolina its great cash crop alongside rice, the dye that Eliza Lucas Pinckney coaxed into commercial cultivation around Charleston in the 1740s and that filled the colony's coffers for a generation, made with skill drawn largely from enslaved West Africans. That fortune rested on a tropical cousin, Indigofera tinctoria, but the family trait runs through the whole genus, and the leaves of this one will give up the same blue if you care to steep them. We grow the plant for the flowers instead.
No genus carries more Carolina history in its name than this one. Indigofera means indigo-bearing, and indigo was the blue that built the colonial Lowcountry: in the 1740s a young Eliza Lucas Pinckney coaxed a successful crop out of the land around Charleston, and for a generation the dye stood second only to rice among the colony's exports, made with skill drawn largely from enslaved West Africans, until the Revolution cut the British bounty and the fields went quiet. The plant that did that work was Indigofera tinctoria.
There is a small lie in the name. Sanguinea means blood, and yet the iris in front of you is blue, or blue running toward violet, with only a wine-dark deepening in the falls to argue the case. The botanists felt the strain too: Carl Thunberg first tried to file the plant as Iris orientalis in 1794, found that name already taken, and the species waited until 1813 for the one carried since. The Japanese never bothered with Latin. To them the flower is ayame, one of the three irises of early summer, threaded through a thousand years of poetry and arriving in that uncertain seam where the old poets could never quite agree whether spring had ended or summer begun.
Iris virginica takes the genus name that Linnaeus borrowed from Iris, the Greek goddess who carried messages along the rainbow, a fitting patron for a family that scatters every color through the flower. The species epithet virginica records where botanists first met the plant, in colonial Virginia, though Southern blue flag ranges far beyond, threading wet ground from the Chesapeake down through Florida and west to Texas, and north into the Midwest. In the wild the iris is an obligate wetland plant, at home in marshes, wet meadows, swamps, and the shallow margins of ponds where the roots can sit in standing water for weeks at a time.
Itea, the sweetspires, are graceful shrubs of the family Iteaceae, their name taken from the Greek word for willow, after leaves that recall a willow's. Itea chinensis is the Chinese sweetspire, an uncommon evergreen member of the group, a medium to tall shrub of neat, compact form with oval, glossy leaves that hold through the year in the warm South. In spring the plant hangs slender four-inch spikes of small white flowers, softly fragrant and busy with bees.
Itea virginica, the Virginia sweetspire, is a native shrub of eastern wetlands, familiar in gardens for fragrant white flower spikes and fiery fall color. 'Shirley's Compact,' sometimes called Shirley's Midget, takes the species to an extreme: a true miniature, a dense little bun of a plant with tiny, twisted, inch-long leaves, growing so slowly that a ten-year-old clump may stand only a foot or a foot and a half tall while spreading two or three feet wide.
Jasminum x stephanense, the Stephan jasmine, is the rare pink-flowered hybrid of the group, a cross between the red jasmine, Jasminum beesianum, and the poet's jasmine, Jasminum officinale. The vigorous, semi-evergreen scrambling vine carries small, soft pink, fragrant flowers over slender stems clothed in fine pinnate leaves, combining the pink of one parent with the hardiness and perfume of the other.
Juglans nigra, the eastern black walnut, is one of the great trees of eastern North America, a towering, long-lived hardwood native from the Appalachians and Midwest to the Mississippi Valley, most at home in deep, rich, moist but well-drained soils along river bottoms and fertile uplands. Large pinnate leaves cast a broad, airy shade in summer, leaf out late in spring, and drop early in fall to a soft gold, making way for the tree's most famous gift, the crop of hard-shelled nuts.
Hardiness
Zones 4–9
Light
Full Sun
Height
50–80 ft.
Spread
40–60 ft.
Bloom
Green
Plant type
Tree
Traditional use
topical applications, digestive health, detoxification & cleansing, general wellness
By late summer, when many shrubs have said their piece, Lespedeza thunbergii 'Spring Grove' is only clearing its throat. The many woody, arching stems bend into a green fountain through the season, then bow lower still under a long, generous fall of rose-purple pea flowers carried in racemes six to eight inches long. 'Spring Grove' is a newer selection said to hold darker purple flowers and a tidier, better habit than the old standard 'Gibraltar', and the photographs here come courtesy of the JC Raulston Arboretum.
This quietly handsome evergreen has grown well for years in the Woodlanders garden here in Aiken, South Carolina, holding a place in semi-shade where many broadleaf evergreens sulk. The spicebush earns a spot on foliage alone: glossy, leathery leaves, roughly heart-shaped and about three inches across, each marked by three bold veins, with new growth flushing a soft bronze before deepening to green.
Hardiness
Zones 8–9
Light
Full Sun / Part Shade / Full Shade
Height
6–10 ft.
Spread
4–6 ft.
Bloom
Yellow
Plant type
Shrub
Traditional use
digestive health, pain relief, reproductive health
In the dead of winter, when the garden asks for little and gives less, Lonicera × purpusii answers with perfume. This winter honeysuckle is a hybrid of two Chinese species, Lonicera fragrantissima and Lonicera standishii, and carries the best of both: small, creamy-white, tubular flowers that open along the bare stems from late winter into early spring, throwing a clean, lemon-sweet fragrance that carries yards on a mild day.
Bold, burnished orange trumpets in generous early-summer clusters make Lonicera × tellmanniana one of the most striking climbing honeysuckles ever raised. The hybrid crosses the American coral honeysuckle, Lonicera sempervirens, with the large-flowered Chinese Lonicera tragophylla, and takes the best of each: vivid color, strong growth, and clean foliage, without the invasive streak of the weedy honeysuckles.
Lyonia lucida, the fetterbush, is one of the quiet evergreen pleasures of the Southeastern wetlands, a shrub of upright, arching stems clothed in glossy, leathery leaves. Look closely and each smooth leaf shows a fine vein running just inside the margin, a neat identifying mark, and the species name lucida, Latin for shining, salutes that polished surface. The common name comes from the dense, tangling thickets the shrub forms in the wild, said to fetter anyone trying to walk through.
