The garden's backbone: flowering trees, native and rare shrubs, and evergreens that hold their shape through every season. Many are Southeastern natives; others are quiet collector's plants you won't find at a big-box nursery, chosen for resilience and lasting, year-round interest.
Eucommia ulmoides is a medium to large deciduous tree of forty to sixty feet, upright when young and broadening into a rounded crown with age. The leaves are elm-like, as the epithet says, dark glossy green, deeply veined and pointed, held on a clean straight trunk with grayish furrowed bark. There is no autumn color worth the name and the flowers are green, apetalous, and easy to miss, with male and female on separate trees. What this tree offers instead is a rare combination of qualities: dense shade, genuine toughness, freedom from pests and disease, tolerance of city air and poor ground, and a frame that holds up in storms.
Hardiness
Zones 4–7
Light
Full Sun / Part Shade
Height
40–60 ft.
Spread
30–45 ft.
Bloom
Green
Plant type
Tree
Traditional use
general wellness, heart support, pain relief, reproductive health
In the quiet understory of the Eastern woodlands grows a shrub of subtle grace and striking autumn drama: Euonymus americanus, the American strawberry bush, known just as fondly by the folk name hearts-a-bustin'. This native, deciduous to semi-evergreen shrub sends up slender, distinctly green, angular stems clad in opposite, lance-shaped leaves to about three inches long. Through spring and summer the plant keeps to the shade of oak, hickory, and pine, quietly content in fertile, moist, well-drained soil.
Exbucklandia populnea is a rare evergreen tree that fools nearly everyone who meets it. The large, glossy, leathery leaves, sometimes shallowly three-lobed and carried on long stalks, look for all the world like those of a tulip poplar, yet the tree belongs to the witch-hazel family, a kinship few would ever guess. Bold and architectural, with bronze-red new growth and curious upright stipules capping each shoot, this is a foliage tree of real presence.
Pearlbush is named for the week before the show rather than the show itself. Along each slender arching branch, the flower buds swell into round, hard, pure white beads strung out in a line, and for a few days in very early spring the shrub looks convincingly like a plant hung with pearls. Then the buds open into cupped white flowers an inch or so across, six to ten of them to a raceme, and the whole irregular upright frame of eight to ten feet goes white at a point in the year when almost nothing else has started. The plant is sure to attract attention in flower, and does very well in the South, where pearlbush is a dependable herald of spring.
The American beech is one of the great presences of the eastern woods, a large, slow-growing deciduous tree that ranges through rich forests from southern Canada to the Gulf. Toothed oval leaves, several inches long, emerge a clean bright green, turn clear yellow in fall and then a warm russet-brown, and cling to the branches through much of winter, a habit called marcescence that gives the bare woods a soft papery whisper. The trunk is the signature: smooth, silver-gray, and elephantine, so inviting that generations have carved their initials into the living bark, a temptation best resisted since the wounds never truly heal.
Fokienia hodginsii is the only living species in the genus, a conifer that looks assembled from parts of several others. The flattened, fanning sprays read as arborvitae from across a lawn. Up close, the scale leaves show chalky white bands on their undersides and the small round cones sit closer to Chamaecyparis and Calocedrus. Botanists have argued about where the tree belongs for more than a century and have not finished. Plants of the World Online still accepts the name Fokienia hodginsii, while several recent phylogenetic studies nest the genus inside Chamaecyparis and would have the tree called Chamaecyparis hodginsii. We keep the older name because that is what the plant is known and traded by, and both are defensible depending on whose treatment you follow.
Swamp privet, Forestiera acuminata, is a native deciduous shrub or small tree of the wet South, at home in the flood-prone bottoms and streambanks from Texas east to South Carolina and up the Mississippi Valley as far as Illinois and Indiana. A member of the olive family, Oleaceae, and a distant cousin of the true privets, the plant shrugs off standing water and seasonal flooding with an ease few woody plants can match.
Forestiera angustifolia 'Weeping' is a distinctive pendulous form of the Texas desert olive, an intricately branched native shrub whose cascading, weeping branches make it a living piece of sculpture. Fine and twiggy, clothed in small narrow leaves, the plant drapes and tumbles in a way the wild shrub never does, and reveals a fine tracery of branches in winter once the leaves have fallen. Tough as the Texas brush country that bore it, this is a plant grown as much for form as for foliage, and a favorite subject for bonsai.
The native fothergillas were choice but scarcely available garden shrubs when Woodlanders first began to offer them back in 1980. This one, a hybrid of Fothergilla gardenii and F. major, was found by Dr. Michael Dirr at the Mt. Airy Arboretum in Cincinnati, Ohio, and has since become the most widely grown fothergilla of all, and deservedly so.
'Sea Spray' has long traveled under the name Fothergilla major, a tidy assumption the botanists have since complicated. Run through a flow cytometer, the plant turns out to be a hybrid, F. × intermedia, the meeting of mountain witch-alder (F. major) and the dwarf coastal F. gardenii, the little shrub Charleston's Alexander Garden sent across to England in the 1760s, in a genus already named for John Fothergill, the London physician who tried to grow half of America in a single garden. All of which makes the name, for once, honest. Most Sea Spray christenings are wishful; this one actually carries the coast in the blood.
Fothergilla gardenii is a small deciduous shrub, usually three to four feet tall, and a native of the southeastern coastal plain, where the plant haunts moist, peaty pinelands and bogs. A member of the witch-hazel family, Hamamelidaceae, and a close cousin of the witch-hazels themselves, dwarf fothergilla shares the family gift for honey-scented late-winter and spring bloom on bare or barely-leafed stems.
The native fothergillas were choice but scarcely available garden shrubs when Woodlanders first began to offer them in 1980, and mountain witch alder is the largest and, to our eye, the best of them. Fothergilla major makes a rounded deciduous shrub of six to eight feet, slow and dense, and gives two distinct performances a year. In April the bare or barely-leafing branches carry upright white bottlebrushes, an inch or two long, made not of petals but of crowded stamens with pale yellow anthers, and they carry a honeyed scent that reaches further than the flowers look able to manage. In October the blue-green leaves turn all at once to orange, scarlet and yellow, often several colors on a single leaf.
Few plants carry a story like the Franklin tree. Collected from the banks of the Altamaha River in Georgia by John and William Bartram in the 1760s and named by them for their friend Benjamin Franklin, Franklinia alatamaha was last seen growing wild around 1803 and has never been found in nature since. Every Franklinia alive today, in every garden and arboretum on earth, descends from the seed the Bartrams carried home to Philadelphia. To grow one is to hold a living piece of that lineage.
The gardenia needs no introduction in the South; the scent alone has been stopping people in driveways for generations. What 'Chuck Hayes' adds to that old story is nerve in the cold. The line traces back to the late 1970s and a Virginia Beach nurseryman named Charlie Hayes, who noticed a single-flowered gardenia that had come through a brutal freeze unbothered. He crossed that survivor with a double-flowered plant and handed the seedlings to Dan Milbocker, a horticulturist at the Hampton Roads research station, who grew them out, picked the toughest, and eventually released the plant under Hayes's name. The result is a fully double, classically fragrant gardenia that behaves as a far more delicate shrub has no right to.
'Kleim's Hardy' is a small, mounding evergreen gardenia with lustrous black-green leaves and single, star-shaped ivory flowers, and one of the most cold-tolerant gardenias in the trade. Where most gardenias pile petal on petal, this one opens flat and simple, five or six broad ivory petals flaring around a boss of creamy-yellow stamens, and carries the same heavy, sweet perfume in a lighter, cleaner frame.
The gardenia needs little introduction to a Southern gardener: glossy evergreen leaves and thick, waxen, intensely fragrant flowers that perfume a whole summer evening. This selection, grown simply as the Yellow gardenia, adds a twist, for the blooms open creamy white and deepen with age to a rich butter-yellow, so a single shrub can carry both colors at once against the dark foliage.
'Daruma' is a compact, dwarf gardenia, a dense little evergreen that holds a tidy dome the year round and fits the tight corners where a full-sized gardenia would crowd. The name recalls the round, weighted Daruma dolls of Japan, and the plant keeps a similarly rounded, low habit that needs almost no shaping.
This striking, rather upright gardenia is a Woodlanders introduction that has since become more widely available, grown less for bloom than for the boldly marked leaves. Each glossy leaf is splashed and margined in strong yellow, so the whole shrub reads as a soft fountain of gold and green, a rare thing among broadleaf evergreens and a bright note for a shaded corner.
Every collection has its unnamed treasures, and this gardenia is one of ours: a plant grown from seed gathered on Emei Shan, the great sacred mountain of Sichuan in southwestern China. The species has not been pinned down, but the plant is unmistakably a gardenia, upright in habit and clothed in long, narrow, glossy dark green leaves quite unlike the broad foliage of the common Cape jasmine.
Glyptostrobus pensilis, the Chinese swamp cypress, is a living fossil and one of the rarest conifers on earth, the last surviving species of an ancient lineage that once ringed the Northern Hemisphere. A deciduous conifer of the cypress family, the swamp cypress is a near-twin of the American baldcypress, sharing the same feathery, soft green foliage, the same love of standing water, and even the same habit of throwing up woody knees from the roots in wet ground. In autumn the foliage turns a warm bronze-red before falling.
