In mid-May the countryside is splashed with white as many of our native and exotic trees come into flower. Round my circuit we have hawthorn (Crataegus monogyna), sour cherry (Prunus cerasus), Japanese snowball (Viburnum plicatum f. tomentosum 'Mariesii') and bird cherry (Prunus padus).
The hawthorn in the northern hedge (below left) flowers about 5 days earlier than those in the southern hedge and has differently shaped leaves, so it may have had a different, exotic origin (as is the case with so many hawthorns planted recently as hedges.)
The morello cherry, or perhaps more correctly, the sour cherry has grown for many years in our southern hedge. In the past there were many different cultivars in England and elsewhere, most of which now seem to have gone.
The name 'morello' seems to have been applied to one cultivar only but then became the name for all of them. The word 'morello' is from the Italian and means 'small black', so true morello cherries should be very dark or black. The fruit of ours is red, so it must derive from some other cultivar.
One of our most magnificent garden plants is the Japanese snowball 'Mariesii' (Viburnum plicatum f. tomentosum 'Mariesii)'. The plant, which has an Award of Merit from the Royal Horticultural Society, was introduced by Charles Maries who collected in China and Japan in the late 19th century. As well as fine flowers it has a lovely spreading tabular habit.
Finally among the white-flowering trees and shrubs is our old bird cherry (Prunus padus). The word padus is ancient Latin for the river Po
in Italy along whose banks many of the trees grow, but I found mine
as a seedling in the Yorkshire Dales 40 years ago and it was
planted to mark the grave of our cat called Big Bill. He liked trying to catch birds, so a bird cherry
seemed appropriate. Its shape is such,
with the first branches not much about ground level, that generations of
children have had great enjoyment climbing it.
Often I have come home and heard, rather than seen, these youngsters
chirruping away in the foliage like the singers I once saw in a tree in a
performance of the Carmina burana by Carl
Orff. For many years the tree has flowered, often
profusely, and when the wind blows the small white petals flutter onto the lawn
like whirling snow.
The 17th C Flemish herbalist, Dodonaeus wrote that
people planted them because "they were reputed to be highly effective in
warding off sorcerers and malefactors", a sort of early Neighbourhood
Watch. Another source said that young
girls who had been bewitched could stand under a tree before sunrise and shake
it so that the dew fell on them. Sounds
like a good excuse for being out all night and getting wet.
The bird cherry is described as preferring moist woodland, scrub,
stream sides and shaded rocky places, most frequently on damp calcareous or
base-rich soils, while it avoids very dry or very acidic conditions. Our
tree, however, grows vigorously on a dry, acid, sandy soil. I have often noted that plants which prefer
specific habitats in the wild grow well in quite different conditions in the
garden. The explanation might be that
there is a quite complicated limiting factor or factors. There might, for example, be a climatic phenomenon, or a disease every
fifty or a hundred years or more that wipes out all examples except those
growing in optimal conditions. In other
words the one in my garden might die due to 'growing in the wrong place', but
those where mine originally came from survive.
There is a weevil Anthonomus rectirostris and an
attractive little moth, the bird-cherry ermine (Yponomeuta evonymella), that both feed exclusively on bird
cherry. The gregarious larvae of the
moth can completely defoliate a tree, as I once saw when we lived in the Peak
District. Neither species is found in
Sussex as the tree is not considered a native species in the county, so we hope our
bird cherry is safe from attack here.