My favorite moments as a horticulturist occur when the beauty of nature moves me in a spiritual way, inspiring feelings of awe, serenity, joy, and profound peace. I consider myself blessed to work at the Arboretum, which offers us countless ways to experience these connections throughout the fleeting seasons. In summer, I love witnessing grasses dancing in the wind while holding the light of the sun, while in winter stands of towering conifers hold snow after a storm. I feel this connection while observing the majesty of the oak collection in the fall, and when seeing the first spring flowers after the long dormancy of winter.
Among my favorite spring flowers is the often-overlooked Stachyurus praecox. I remember meeting this plant while working as a gardener in the Morris Arboretum’s Camellia Collection. Stumbling upon it, I was immediately moved by the long tails of yellow bell-shaped flowers that loaded every branch and node. It was like finding an elegant and ethereal upside-down chandelier, a plant springing from the earth as if in celebration of life itself.
A deciduous understory shrub, Stachyurus praecox is a perfect plant for shade gardens and edges. It flowers on old wood before the leaves fully emerge, granting an enchanting and long-lasting display in early spring—praecox meaning “very early” in Latin. Although there are only ten or so species in the genus Stachyurus, all share similarly intense ornamental flowering qualities. The most cultivated include Stachyurus praecox, S. salicifolius, and S. chinensis. All are native to East Asia, where they thrive in the mountainous regions of Japan, China, and the Korean peninsula.
Usually beginning late March and early April, the Arboretum’s Stachyurus will once again wake up and sparkle to stardom in our landscape. The most prolific display at the Arboretum is Stachyurus praecox (1428-83*B) located on the south side of the Hunnewell Visitor Center. For those interested in stumbling upon the flowers the way I did, I encourage a visit to the Explorers Garden, where multiple plants grow throughout the collection. I hope this inspires you to marvel at their hypnotic chandelier-like flowers that light up the landscape and remind us that the world is still a wondrous place. And on a good day, if you look long enough, you may see their flowers as beacons signaling the death and rebirth of life on earth, a connection which unites us all.
Scott Phillips is the assistant manager of horticulture at the Arnold Arboretum.