The Rochester Lilac Festival

Earlier this month – on Friday, May 13th to be exact – my husband Doug & I began a 12-day road trip through the northeast U.S. to celebrate his university reunion in New Jersey and to tour as many public gardens as we could fit in along the way. On that first day, we drove from Toronto to Rochester, New York in order to enjoy the first of three May weekends at the Rochester Lilac Festival at Highland Park. It bills itself as the largest free festival in North America and given the already-filled parking lots and hordes of people milling in the park, I can believe it. Walking towards the lilac plantings, we passed booths with huge lilac bouquets….

….. and themed t-shirts….

….. and vendors of cut flowers that were NOT lilacs.

And, yes, there was cotton candy.  It’s a festival, after all.

Given the hot temperatures and sunny skies as we arrived at mid-day, photo conditions were terrible for photography – but oh-so-perfect for perfume, which wafted everywhere!

But I did manage to create some photos on the shady side of the shrubs, including one cultivar I later nominated as one of the top 3 lilacs of the (admittedly abbreviated) roster we viewed.  Meet Syringa vulgaris ‘Jessie Gardner’, a 1956 introduction by the Gardener Nursery in Wisconsin.

There are more than 500 varieties (species, cultivars, hybrids) of lilacs and more than 1,200 lilac shrubs arrayed on the gently sloped hillsides of Highland Park. Because they originate in extremely cold climates in Europe and Asia, lilacs have no problem surviving winter in upstate New York and southern Canada.  Other big collections are held at the University of Wisconsin Arboretum in Madison and the Katie Osborne Lilac Garden at Ontario’s Royal Botanical Garden. I have also photographed the lilac collection at the Montreal Botanical Garden and rare species lilacs such as Syringa sweginzowii from China in the David Lam Asian Garden at UBC Botanical Garden in Vancouver, below.

There are many lilac types that provide a long season of flowering, from April into June in certain climates. Flowers are officially assigned Roman numerals for colour: I-White, II-Violet, III-Bluish, IV-Lilac, V-Pinkish, VI-Magenta, VII–Purple. Interestingly, we often refer to certain flowers being “lilac coloured”, which according to its origin in the “IV-Lilac” hue of the common lilac Syringa vulgaris is neither the lavender-blue nor the mallow-mauve that people often mistake as “lilac”.  In doing my various explorations on colour, I’ve grouped true lilac-coloured flowers in this montage.

Part of the difficulty of assigning a colour to lilacs is that the flowers change colour as they age, which you can see below with S. vulgaris ‘Professor Sargent’, named in 1889 by German botanist and nurseryman Franz Späth for Charles Sprague Sargent (1841-1927), first director of Harvard University’s Arnold Arboretum.

I am very partial to the Hyacinthiflora Hybrids, aka the Early Hybrids, partly because I live in a place where winter lasts well into “spring” and these fragrant lilacs tend to flower a few weeks ahead of the common lilac and its cultivars, and partly because the Canadian breeder Dr. Frank Leith Skinner (1882-1967) of Manitoba had a major role in their development. They are hybrids of S. vulgaris and the broadleaf Korean lilac, S. oblata or S. oblata var. dilatata. So the second of my Top 3 lilacs at Rochester was Syringa x hyacinthiflora ‘Excel’, a 1935 Skinner introduction which performs exactly as its name suggests, with excellence!

Another beautiful Frank Skinner Hyacinthiflora Hybrid is pure white ‘Sister Justina’, below, introduced in 1956.

Nearby was a common lilac cultivar, Syringa vulgaris ‘Frederick Law Olmsted’, hybridized by Father John Fiala (1924-90) and named in 1987 for Olmsted, the man sometimes called the father of American landscape architecture, who with his partner Calvert Vaux designed many well-known landscapes including New York’s Central Park and Rochester’s own Highland Park, the site of the lilac festival!  Father Fiala was legendary in lilac circles for authoring the book “Lilacs: A Gardener’s Encyclopedia”.  

Father Fiala also bred this beauty, S. vulgaris ‘Albert F. Holden’, also in my ‘Top 3″, with its deep-violet, very perfumed flowers with a silver reverse (similar to ‘Sensation’, but not as crisply white-edged). It was named for the man who endowed the Holden Arboretum in Kirtland, Ohio.

Rochester features many of the so-called “French hybrids” bred by the nurseryman Victor Lemoine and his son Emile between 1870 and 1950.  Among them are S. vulgaris ‘Linné’ from 1890, sometimes called ‘Linnaeus’ – the ultimate tribute name in botany.

Syringa vulgaris ‘Leon Gambetta’ with its double flowers, below, was introduced by Lemoine in 1907, its name honouring the French lawyer and republican politician who proclaimed the French Third Republic in 1870 and played a prominent role in its early government.

‘Jules Ferry’, also introduced by Lemoine in 1907, was named for a former Prime Minister of France during the Third Republic.

‘Paul Thirion’ was introduced by Lemoine in 1915 and is a popular and fairly common lilac.  Lemoine named it for a horticulturist at Nancy Parks, France. It is classed as VI-Magenta in colour.

Syringa vulgaris ‘Frank’s Fancy’, bred in the 1970s by Edward Mezitt of Weston Nurseries in Massachusetts and named for his friend Frank Goodwin, looks very magenta to my eye but is classed as VII-Purple. Blame it on the light.

For me, this is a classic and beautiful lilac truss:  mauve buds opening to pinkish-lilac florets on S. vulgaris ‘Frau Wilhelm Pfitzer’ introduced by Germany’s Pfitzer Nursery in 1910.

Syringa vulgaris ‘Silver King’ was bred by Wisconsin’s Dr. A. H. Lemke in 1941; its flowers are classed as III-Bluish but they are as close to silver as you’ll see.

Another type of lilac flowering at this time is the hybrid Chinese lilac, Syringa x chinensis, sometimes called the Rouen lilac because it was discovered in 1777 flowering in Rouen, France.  It is a cross between common lilac, S. vulgaris and Persian lilac, S. persica, from Iran.

Then there is S. x chinensis ‘Bicolor’ with its purple eye on pale pinkish flowers.

Seed of this unusual lilac, Syringa ‘Rhodopea’ was collected by botanist Václav Stříbrný in 1900 in the Rhodope Mountains in Bulgaria and cultivated in the botanical garden in Prague.  It has a different bearing and, according to the International Lilac Register is “not a uniform clone”, which accounts for it not always being included in the S. vulgaris clan.  Speaking of the Register, it is an invaluable resource to those searching for information on lilac cultivars and can be accessed here as a .pdf file.

Finally, I had to commemorate our Rochester visit with a husband-and-wife selfie, because who wouldn’t want to remember what it was like to stand amidst these perfumed shrubs on a warm afternoon in May? 

As we packed up the crumbs from our picnic lunch (devilled egg sandwiches made in my Toronto kitchen at dawn!) and made our way back to the car to drive on to Utica for the night, I asked a young mother if I could take a farewell photo for my blog, which she happily agreed to. What lucky children to run amongst the lilacs.

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LILAC PEOPLE

Speaking of selfies, what fun it was during my few hours at the Rochester Lilac Festival to run into someone I knew only as a Facebook friend.  Brian Morley of Kansas City, Missouri is a man of many talents. Not only does he co-own a fabulous business called Bergamot & Ivy Design with lush, innovative floral designs, he is also an accomplished lilac hybridizer and is on the Board of Directors of the International Lilac Society. It is a small world, but perhaps not so small when people who love lilacs gather in a famous spot devoted to the genus Syringa.  And we gave each other’s lilac wardrobe choices an approving nod!

During my freelance career, I have been fortunate to correspond with renowned lilac experts, including the late Freek Vrugtman, International Lilac Registrar and Curator Emeritus of Ontario’s Royal Botanical Gardens, which features a large collection of lilacs in its Katie Osborne Lilac Dell, below.

Freek Vrugtman proof-read my May 2008 story on Hyacinthiflora lilacs for Canadian Gardening magazine, below….

…… and we chatted by email when I had a question on lilacs.  After his death on March 3, 2022, the RBG published a memorial tribute which included the following passage:  “Working with RBG’s other staff, including Charles Holetich and Leslie Laking, Freek directed considerable attention to the collection and became the International Registrar for Lilacs in the Genus Syringa in 1976, as RBG became the International Cultivar Registration Authority, or ICRA, for Lilacs. Whenever a new cultivar was bred anywhere in the world the breeder would submit a request to Freek for its entry into the International Registry. Freek would review all such applications and guide the breeder through the process. As Registrar Freek became widely known as the international expert on Lilac cultivars.

When I had a lilac identification question Freek couldn’t answer, he passed it on to the RBG’s lilac specialist, Charles Holectich: “What do you think, Charlie?”  Way back in 1994, when I was writing my weekly newspaper garden column for the Toronto Sun, I interviewed Charles Holetich for some hints on caring for these lovely spring shrubs.  This is my column from May 22, 1994 – twenty-eight years ago!  Below that I’ve included the interview as a Q&A.

JD:  What’s the best location for lilacs?

CH:  Lilacs prefer open, sunny locations and neutral soil, though they will grow in slightly alkaline or slightly acid conditions and are found in both.

JD:  What about drainage? 

CH:  They dislike wet feet, so if planted in clay-type soil which has a tendency to retain moisture, you should make a hill about 2 feet high and 8-10 feet wide, so excess moisture seeps away.

JD:  If it’s located in full sun, does a lilac shrub need to be fertilized?  

CH:  If it has too much foliage and not enough bloom, that means it’s high in nitrogen.  In order to induce flower buds, you should feed it with a high phosphate (middle number) fertilizer like 4-12-8 or 5-45-15.  This should be done immediately after flowering because next year’s buds are being formed in June, July and August.

JD:  What about all those seedheads?  Must they be removed and how can you reach the top ones on a big shrub?   


CH:  When summer has adequate rainfall, then it doesn’t matter because there’s sufficient energy to bring enough nutrients from the soil to satisfy the formation of both seedheads and flowering buds.  But in drought summers, you should remove seedheads and water deeply, about 5-6 inches once a month. 

JD:  Pruning confuses a lot of lilac owners too. 

CH: I think the ideal for a multi-stemmed lilac is to have 9-15 stems of different thickness positioned so they don’t rub each other.  Once this is achieved, then every two years or so, you should remove one or two of the oldest stems at ground level, keeping up to 3 new shoots.  Then the next year, you can decide which of the three is the best to keep and remove the others.

JD:  How tall should a lilac be kept pruned?

CH:  I’m a strong believer that a lilac should be deliberately kept pruned at between 6-9 feet.  

********

To all the passionate lilac lovers, growers and breeders, I tip my fragrant hat, fashioned with trusses of my own Syringa pubescens ‘Palibin’ and lily-of-the-valley (or, as it’s accustomed to being addressed in my garden, “guerilla-of-the-valley”….)

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Want to read more about spring shrubs?  Read my blogs on:
The David Lam Asian Garden at Vancouver’s UBC
Spring at Van Dusen Botanical Garden, Vancouver (2 parts)
Spring at Ontario’s Royal Botanical Garden
The Rosy Buds of May and Beyond
A Shade Garden Master Class (Montreal Botanical Garden)

Spring at Ontario’s Royal Botanical Gardens

After a long winter, it always nourishes the soul to soak up spring in public gardens as they begin their season-long parade of blossoms. So, last Thursday, I paid a short visit to the Royal Botanical Gardens in Burlington, Ontario. It’s also in Hamilton, the neighbouring city – which is what happens when you have discrete properties spanning the municipal boundary along Plains Road. There was a lovely ‘Gorgeous’ crabapple attracting bees in front of the visitor centre.

Tulips (I think that spectacular orange one is ‘Daydream’) were in full flower along the walkway.

The raised gardens here attract lots of attention, given that they’re at eye level.

I loved this combination: yellow-flowered cushion spurge (Euphorbia polychroma) with ‘Blue Ensign’ lungwort (Pulmonaria) and eastern shooting star (Dodecatheon meadia) in front.

Then I arrived at what used to be called the Hendrie Rose Garden and is now the Centennial Rose Garden within Hendrie Park, which is the new name encompassing all the gardens at this location. The roses will begin in June, of course. I must say, I miss the old vine pergolas with the clematis and pleached trees overhead, but I’m sure these black metal gazebos will stand the test of time.  And from the photos I’ve seen online, this new incarnation is going to be more inspiring to gardeners who want to know how to design with low-maintenance roses in their own gardens, i.e. using companion plants rather than seeing the shrubs all alone in a “rose zoo”.

As we walked along the edge of the forest of the Grindstone Creek Valley, I saw native redbuds (Cercis canadensis) with their branches lined in tiny pink flowers.

A little flash of yellow alerted me to a male goldfinch in an oak tree. Lots of birders come here with their long lenses!

A horse-chestnut (Aesculus hippocastanum) was just opening its first flowers, left, below. Did you know that this European tree has a fascinating reproductive strategy? Bees can see yellow, but not red, so the tree features a little yellow splotch on its newest flowers, the ones containing fresh nectar and pollen. As the flowers age, they turn orange, then red (right). Red is not a colour bees can detect, so they don’t bother with the old “used” flowers any more.

The Scented Garden was awash in fragrant daffodils (no labels, alas), while magnolias and perfumed Koreanspice viburnum (V. carlesii) were offering their olfactory best in the distance.

A favourite spot for me is the Helen M. Kippax Wild Plants Garden. I like its naturalistic approach to life and pollinators.

Mayapples were just coming into flower beside brilliant Virginia bluebells (Mertensia virginica)…..

….. which were attracting queen bees to the nectar-rich flowers, like the one below.

Our native common blue violet (Viola sororia) was putting on a pretty show.

How thrilling to see a young American chestnut (Castanea dentata), in a cage here to protect the tender shoots from voracious rabbits. Once a major eastern deciduous forest component (thought to have comprised 25-30% of hardwoods), this now endangered species suffered a massive decline because of chestnut blight, which is estimated to have killed between 3-4 billion trees in Eastern North America between 1904, when the disease was discovered, and the 1950s. Currently, the Canadian Chestnut Council is working to reintroduce trees bred to have better resistance to the blight.

The familiar flowers of wild geranium (Geranium maculatum) lit up a corner.

American red elderberry (Sambucus pubens) was in flower at the top of the Grindstone Creek Valley.

There was an informative and artful display set up to explain the role of solitary bees. I didn’t see any in residence, but perhaps it’s still early in the season.

Native bur oak (Quercus macrocarpa) was showing off its catkin flowers.

The pond featured an interesting sculpture and a good interpetive sign explaining earth’s water cycle.

Most of the gardens were still waking up. In the Medicinal Plants Garden…….

…. the only plant in bloom was pink lily-of-the-valley (Convallaria majalis var. rosea). Evidently, in careful doses, the root, which contains convallatoxin, has been used for cardiac arrhythmias and other heart issues. (The berries, however, are highly poisonous.)

Our next stop was a short drive down Plains Road to The Arboretum to see the RBG’s big lilac collection of over 700 species and cultivars. I wanted to see the early-blooming lilacs on the Kitsy Evans Lilac Walk…..

…. including the common lilac (Syringa vulgaris) which has given rise to so many cultivars over the past century.


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The Hyacinthifloras were in flower, given the early season……

….. and renowned Manitoba breeder Dr. Frank Skinner’s 1966 introduction, the compact, pink-flowered S. x hyacinthiflora ‘Maiden’s Blush’ (S. oblata, ssp. dilatata x S. vulgaris) was perfuming the path.  It’s a favourite of many lilac fans.

I headed down the slope of the Katie Osborne Lilac Garden to see what other early lilacs were in bloom.

There is now a path along the bottom of the Dell, which makes walking through easier……

…. but I must say that given that the Royal Botanical Gardens was once the International Cultivar Registration Authority (ICRA) for lilacs and has such a deep collection, I was disappointed in the attention being paid to the lilacs on the steep south slope. Pruning has been let go here and elsewhere, which has allowed many lilac shrubs to grow too tall. In some places, lilacs have died and there are now hazardous depressions where people who want to climb the hill like mountain goats can twist ankles or worse. I have been many times to the RBG at lilac time, and I’ve written about lilacs and Hyacinthifloras and hybridizer Frank Skinner in particular – see my Canadian Gardening 2008 story, below. In one memorable interview with the RBG’s former lilac specialist Charles Holetich in the mid-90s when I was writing my weekly newspaper column for the Toronto Sun, he said he was a “strong believer that lilacs should be kept pruned at between 6-9 feet”.

I understand the difficulties associated with a steep slope (and limited staffing), but it seems to be me that some of these important lilacs, below, could easily be transplanted to the empty, flat lawn at the top on the north side of the Dell, where they could be maintained as they should be.

As we headed out of the Arboretum, I enjoyed this lovely ‘Midnight’ chokecherry (Prunus virginiana), and gazed beyond it to the big, flat lawn where those ignored lilacs might enjoy a new lease on life.

With a few hours left before we had to drive north to Guelph, we decided to stop in at the newly redesigned David Braley and Nancy Gordon Rock Garden back down Plains Road.

I attended the opening in 2016 (following a 4-year renovation of the 1929 garden) but the plantings have matured in three years. While it was primarily a spring display garden in its previous life, it had been re-imagined courtesy of Janet Rosenberg & Studio as a four-season garden featuring many more shrubs and a big palette of perennials. This was the view from the top.

Nearby was a fragrant ‘Heaven Scent’ magnolia (M. liliiflora x M. veitchii).

I did find some familiar little paths on the edge of the valley slope, where I could look through flowering almond (Prunus triloba ‘Multiplex’)…..

….. to old plantings of basket-of-gold (Aurinia saxatilis) still going strong decades later…

….. and some beautiful views down to the valley through fragrant Viburnum x carlcephalum ‘Cayuga’.

But it was down on the valley floor where you get the big picture, over a sleek, sinuous water feature up towards the new visitor centre, intended to attract not just garden-lovers but year-round restaurant diners and wedding and special event revenue as well.

The water feature extends around in front of the old 1962 teahouse, which is now called the Garden House.

A beautiful bridge spans the water, which will host water lilies in summer.

Along the main garden path which takes visitors on a gentle (wheelchair-accessible) ascent back to the Visitor Centre, only a few spring perennials were in bloom.

Retracing my steps, I climbed a path at the far end of the rock garden, past a lovely Korean maple (Acer pseudosieboldianum) …….

…… and a pretty little waterfall.

There were pale fritillaries (Fritillaria pallida) peeking out from ostrich ferns….

…. and at the top of the stone steps, the reward of a ‘Valentine’ bleeding heart in flower.

We walked through the late blossoms of ‘Kanzan’ Japanese cherries in the RBG’s cherry collection to return to our car.

After a long winter, it was a joy to walk among cherry blossoms, daffodils, scented lilacs and viburnums in yet another spring at the Royal Botanical Gardens.

The Rosy Buds of May and Beyond

Yes, it’s May, and the garden is bursting with fresh spring colour. Greens are still bright, pests haven’t yet made serious inroads, and there’s still a sense of anticipation about what the rest of the spring season holds.  And on that note, why shouldn’t it hold some pink?  (Especially since I promised you ‘pink for May’ in my 2016 New Year’s resolution!)

Light Pink Flowers-ThePaintboxGarden

The word ‘pink’ is believed to come from the Dutch phrase pinck oogen or “small eyes” and was used to describe flowers of the Dianthus genus that we know as pinks, with their small coloured eyes. Plants like this little Deptford pink (Dianthus armeria) that pops up along my path at the cottage at Lake Muskoka….

Dianthus armeria-Deptford pink

….or the common grass pink (Dianthus plumarius), with its deliciously spicy clove perfume and lime-loving ways.

Dianthus plumarius-grass pink

Its use in colour terminology, i.e. ‘pink-coloured’, dates from 1680, referencing the same genus of plants, but increasingly coming to have other meanings and connotations, such as “in the pink” for health, relating to complexion and the 20th century “pink for girls and blue for boys” social construct that saw everything from maternity ward bracelets to toys and furniture divided into two camps. Interestingly, pink and blue are conjoined in Panatone’s 2016 Colour of the Year, which I blogged about a while back.

PANTONE-2016-Rose Quartz & Serenity

The use of pink plants in garden design schemes seems to have had its heyday in the 1980s, when pretty pastels and combinations of pink-lavender-purple-blue-silver were popular. That “pink for girls” look subsided considerably over the next few decades, when hot colours, dark foliage schemes and green-on-green designs came into their own. But pink-inflected borders are still lovely, and a hallmark of the June garden, when pink peonies and the complementary blues and purples of lupines, irises and other early-summer perennials create a romantic mood, as they do below at Toronto’s Spadina House.

Spadina House-Peonies & lupines

There are loads of pink-flowered perennials and I’ll tackle some of my favourites another time. But in this blog I want to talk about hardy shrubs and vines with pink flowers.  It seems reasonable to do that chronologically, so I’m starting with my favourite pink magnolia, the enchanting and exceptionally early-blooming little ‘Leonard Messel’ Loebner hybrid magnolia. A cross between white-flowered Magnolia kobus and the pink form of star magnolia Magnolia stellata ‘Rosea’, it is very hardy and utterly enchanting, with its starry pink flowers.  Put lots of glory-of-the-snow (Scilla forbesii formerly Chionodoxa) under this one!

Magnolia x loebneri 'Leonard Messel' (1)

‘Leonard Messel’ is best in a protected spot away from wind and weather and lovely with the first spring bulbs. However, a killing frost in early spring in colder regions (twice in 10 years in Toronto)  will turn those brave flowers brown, so caveat emptor.

Magnolia x loebneri 'Leonard Messel' (2)

Japanese cherry trees (Prunus x yedoensis, P. serrulata, etc.) are an iconic – if fleeting – sign of spring in many parts of the temperate world where sakura flower-watching is enjoyed. In colder regions, like Southern Ontario where I live, the choices are somewhat limited, but there is one that I love for its abundant pale-pink flowering show in late April or early May. Prunus ‘Accolade’, shown below, is a 1952 hybrid from England’s Knapp Hill Nurseries, a cross between a form of Prunus x subhirtella and the very hardy, northern Japanese hill cherry Prunus sargentii, aka ‘Sargent’s cherry’, named for its American collector Charles Sprague Sargent.  As a bonus to its flowering, it will also usually turn soft apricot-gold in autumn.

Prunus 'Accolade'

The flowers of ‘Accolade’, below, are exquisite, and arguably the tree is one of the hardiest available for northern gardeners (apart from the early Yoshino cherry, Prunus x yedoensis and the later, double-flowered and rather harsh pink Prunus serrulata ‘Kanzan’). But there’s a little hitch: if winter temperatures flirt with historic lows in the mid-to-low -20s Celsius, the flowers will often blast without opening.  Even in a mild winter without excessively low temperatures, if the mercury drops unseasonably in early spring as the buds are plumping up – as it did in Toronto this April – Japanese cherries will not flower profusely; some will not flower at all. But that’s the chance you take.

Prunus 'Accolade' closeup

An early, pink-flowered shrub to consider is Farrer’s viburnum (Viburnum farreri). I have this in my own garden and it sometimes opens in March in an unseasonably warm spring. Even better is the hybrid Viburnum x bodnantense ‘Dawn’, below, which is a 1934 selection by Bodnant Nursery in Wales of their cross between V. farreri and V. grandiflorum.

Viburnum x bodnantense 'Dawn'

‘Dawn’ is also favoured for its early nectar by bees and overwintering butterflies like the mourning cloak.

Bombus on Viburnum x bodnantense 'Dawn'

Rhododendrons are a mainstay of the milder west coast and the warmer regions of the northeast into the Carolinas, but there are many that are perfectly hardy for us here in USDA Zone 5 (Zone 6 Canadian zones). Among the best pinks are the ultra-hardy, small-flowered rhododendrons bred by Weston Nurseries in Massachusetts. Indeed, I once had eleven of these – a combination of Rhododendron ‘Aglow’ and ‘Olga Mezitt’ – in my front garden for a spring show that brought the neighbours around to ooh and ahhh. In time, the prairie perennials I grew for my ‘second act’ in summer crowded and shaded out these spring lovelies – and in truth, they were never happy with the soil, which was essentially alkaline clay. But they’re highly recommended for people who don’t mind the somewhat brash neon colour and can’t bear the thought of cosseting the big-flowered rhododendrons to protect them from winter sunshine and resulting leaf dessication. Look how lovely ‘Olga Mezitt’ was, with its pink tulip and blue forget-me-not companions.

Rhododendron 'Olga Mezitt' in my old garden

A closeup of the beautiful flower truss of ‘Olga Mezitt’.

Rhododendron 'Olga Mezitt'

And here is ‘Aglow’ at the Montreal Botanical Garden. Spectacular, isn’t it, for a shrub that can survive -30F (-30C) unprotected without bud damage?

Rhododendron 'Aglow'-Montreal Botanical Garden

The Eastern redbud tree (Cercis canadensis) is one of the most beautiful of the native northeast sylva. It seems like a little miracle that those pea flowers should emerge on bare wood, transforming each limb from drab winter brown to brilliant raspberry-pink. This little grouping of redbuds at the Toronto Botanical Garden includes two pinks, a white-flowered form and the weeping dwarf cultivar ‘Covey’.

Cercis canadensis-Toronto Botanical Garden

A closer look at Eastern redbud at the Toronto Botanical Garden.

Cercis canadensis-Toronto Botanical Garden2

And here’s a better look at Cercis canadensis ‘Covey’ (trade name Lavender Twist – and don’t get me going on the misuse of “lavender” as a colour term), which seems like it was born to cascade over this stone wall!
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Cercis canadensis 'Covey'-Toronto Botanical Garden

Moving along through spring, we have the gorgeous tree peonies and interspecific Itoh hybrid peonies. You could easily find dozens of beautiful pink tree peonies and Itoh variaeties, but it would be hard to beat Paeonia Itoh Group ‘Morning Lilac’, shown here with catmint (Nepeta racemosa ‘Walker’s Low’).

Paeonia Itoh Group 'Morning Lilac'

And ‘Yankee Doodle Dandy’, below, is another beautiful pink Itoh peony.

Paeonia Itoh Group 'Yankee Doodle Dandy'

One of the most elegant, pink-flowered spring shrubs is Calycanthus x raulstonii ‘Hartlage Wine’.  This superb selection of a hybrid between Carolina allspice (Calycanthus floridus) and the Chinese species C. chinensis was developed at the North Carolina State University arboretum headed by the late J.C. Raulston. The hybrid honours Raulson, while the selection is named for Richard Hartlage, the grad student who made the cross.

Calycanthus x raulstonii 'Hartlage Wine'

I do know that weigelas (Weigela florida) are not much in fashion these days amongst the horticultural cognoscenti, given that they were much overplanted in decades past. But they are largely problem-free, gorgeous in flower, and quite attractive to pollinators, especially bumble bees. (Incidentally, my friend Rebecca Alexander, erudite librarian at the University of Washington Botanic Gardens Center for Urban Horticulture, points out that the genus should be pronounced VYE-guh-la, since it’s named after German Botanist Christian Ehrenfried von Weigel –and certainly not wuh-JEE-lia. But imagine the looks you’d get at your local nursery as you ask for Vyeguhla!) I think they are lovely shrubs with exciting variety in their flower and leaf colours and forms, especially the beautiful variegated-leaf cultivar ‘Variegata’. Skilful pruning immediately after blooms fade helps maintain a vigorous shrub, but rejuvenation pruning may be required every few years to remove the oldest wood and keep the shrub at a reasonable height.

Weigela florida

I’ve also seen weigela grown as an unexpectedly attractive flowering hedge.

Weigela florida hedge

Mmm…. lilacs. Everyone loves lilac season, with those magnificent perfumed trusses of the deep-purple, reddish-mauve, white or soft lilac flowers that gave that hue its name. While true pink isn’t seen in the many named lilacs descending from the common lilac Syringa vulgaris, it is found in a class of late-bloomers generally called the Preston lilacs (Syringa x prestoniae). The name honours Isabella Preston, the Canadian plant breeder whose work in the 1920s and 30s with crosses of the late Syringa villosa (shown below) with Syringa reflexa resulted in so many excellent and hardy shrubs, mostly known as the Villosae Group.  Lightly-scented (of privet, rather than the typical lilac scent), they flower 10 days to 2 weeks after common lilacs.

Syringa villosa

Other breeders worked with these lilacs too, such as Dr. Frank Skinner in Roblin, Manitoba, who developed the beautiful pink-flowered ‘Hiawatha’, on the left below, in 1932. On the right is ‘Isabella’, developed in 1928 by its namesake Miss Preston.

Syringa x prestoniae 'Hiawatha' & 'Isabella'

Syringa x prestoniae ‘Miss Canada’ was introduced, appropriately, in Canada’s Centennial year 1967, by Dr. William Cumming at Manitoba’s Morden Research Centre, a cross between Syringa josiflexa ‘Redwine’ and S. x prestoniae ‘Hiawatha’, above.  What a pink beauty she is.

Syringa x prestoniae 'Miss Canada'

Syringa x prestoniae ‘Ferna Alexander’, was introduced in 1970 by Boston horticulturist John H. Alexander, who recommended appreciating these late lilacs for themselves as exceptional shrubs, rather than comparing them to the familiar common lilac and its selections. I photographed this rare beauty at the top of the Lilac Dell at the Royal Botanical Garden, Hamilton, Ontario, on June 10, 2011.  It’s named for the grandmother of current Arnold Arboretum plant breeder J.H. Alexander III, so a tip of the hat to the breeding talents of the Alexander family.

Syringa x prestoniae 'Ferna Alexander'

Here’s another beautiful pink Preston from John H. Alexander – ‘Alexander’s Aristocrat’. It seems to me that the RBG and other lilac gardens should be propagating these unusual introductions and making them available in commerce so we don’t lose them for future generations.

Syringa x prestoniae 'Alexander's Aristocrat'

Finally, while I’m immersed in pink lilacs — and I could go on and on with pink Prestons I’ve photographed:  ‘Alice Rose Foster’, ‘Danusia’, Romeo’, etc. — let me finish up with a beautiful pink, Chinese species lilac from the David Lam Asian Garden at the U.B.C. Botanical Garden in Vancouver (though hardy in cold regions as well): the spectacular Syringa sweginzowii.    If that doesn’t knock your socks off, I don’t know what will.

Syringa sweginzowii

Can you imagine the joy they must have felt at the Arnold Arboretum that day in June 1915 when beautybush (Kolkwitzia amabilis) flowered for the very first time in North America? The seeds had been collected fourteen years earlier near Hubei China by Ernest Wilson, but there was no foretelling that this stunning pink apparition would be the result. Wilson himself was so fond of it, he said: “Among the deciduous-leaved shrubs that central and western China has given to American gardens Kolkwitzia stands in the front rank.”  I agree – and feel so lucky that my neighbour planted two beautybush shrubs along our property line, which I get to enjoy as borrowed scenery each June.

Kolkwitzia amabilis as borrowed scenery

Though the species itself tends to be a pale, almost fleshy-pink, the one below in Toronto’s Mount Pleasant Cemetery has the rich colour of the selection ‘Pink Cloud’, a 1946 introduction from the Royal Horticultural Society at Wisley.

Kolkwitzia amabilis-Beauty bush

My final pink-flowered favourite is Robinia x slavinii ‘Hillieri’, a pretty 1930 selection of the hybrid ‘Slavin’s locust’ developed by New York breeder Bernard Slavin, who in 1919 crossed pink-flowered Robinia kelseyi with the large, white-flowered North American native black locust, Robinia pseudocacia.

Robinia x slavinii 'Hillierii'-habit

With its wisteria-like pink flower clusters much sought out by bumble bees, it’s a lovely sight in early June, though it does bear prominent thorns.  I photographed it at Mount Pleasant Cemetery down the road from my home in Toronto, where choice plants have been grown by the arborists on staff for many decades. Sadly, it appears that this tree is not easily found in North America – a  shame, really, because it’s a good choice for a small garden.

Robinia x slavinii 'Hillierii'-closeup

I could continue indefinitely with pink woody plants for spring, including crab apples, hawthorns, deutzias and, especially, roses (tune in next time for pink clematis & roses). But it’s May, and there’s gardening to be done.