Halfway through winter and down in the valley the willows are indicating spring is on the way. Twigs of our native black willow, Salix nigra, have turned orange, while those of introduced weeping willows, S. babylonica, from eastern Asia are a bright yellow. Just a minute there – didn’t you just say weeping willows are from eastern Asia? So why does the botanical name suggest they originated in the fabled Babylon?
Good question and you can blame it on botanist Carl Linnaeus. He, being the son of a clergyman, was familiar with the Bible, specifically the passage that proclaims that the exiled Israelites, recalling their native haunts, wept under the willows. Only if they lamented, it wasn’t under weeping willows. This was a mistranslation, say modern experts: it should have been poplars,
Populus, another dendrological disaster for future taxonomists. The generic name, incidentally, comes from the Celtic
salis, or ‘near water.’
So let’s give credit were it is due and note that the Chinese have long been familiar with the weeping willow. Indeed in China it has a long pharmaceutical history. Various parts have been used in the treatment of abscesses, fever, gonorrhoea, jaundice, measles, rheumatism, skin diseases and ulcers.
However, when all things oriental were the rage in England, potteries there created the ubiquitous willow pattern dinnerware. Amongst other recipients were the Chinese, which must have puzzled them greatly. What were those two little figures doing on the bridge under a stately weeping willow? In China you see,
Salix babylonica was traditionally planted to indicate a brothel . . .
Diversion No. 1
Elvis, a five-metre-long cranky crocodile, reacted as many would like to when a noisy lawnmower invaded his lebensraum at the Australian Reptile Park near Sydney. Tearing the machine from its operator, he ‘drowned’ it in his pool, then mounted guard until distracted with a haunch of kangaroo. The badly dented machine was retrieved with two of Elvis’ teeth still embedded in it but, reported a supervisor, it will never mow again.
It is always a pleasure to peruse the
Grimo Nut Nursery Catalog. Nut trees are not usually thought of as flourishing in northern climes. Grimo’s proves otherwise. Butternuts, heartnuts, hickories, pecans, pine nuts, walnuts and more to exotic fruit such as mulberries, persimmons, pawpaws, quince and even hardy figs, Grimo tests them at the southern Ontario nursery. But raising nut trees results in surplus kernels. You can also purchase those if you reside in Canada. Not to the U.S. of A., however, due to FDA bioterrorism rules. Strange, when they are quite happy to have trucks trundle Canadian uranium south across the border . . .
Of course Canadian gardeners are no less subjected to weird and wacky bureaucracy. Neem oil has long been known as an effective pesticide, intruding into insects’ life cycles. So why can’t
Richters explain this in their catalogue although they may sell it? The neem tree is native to India but now widely planted throughout the tropics. We first encountered it in West Africa, where leafy portions are placed for protection in rural granaries. Unlike Ottawa bungleaucrats, local farmers are quite happy to tell you why.
Diversion No. 2
Toronto gardeners are facing an apparently insurmountable problem: where to obtain elephant dung compost now that the Metropolitan Toronto Zoo’s remaining three pachyderms have been packed off to a sanctuary in California. But why pachyderm poo? “Great for trees – gives them strong trunks,” claims horticulturist Wes Porter.
Will this coming season see a return of the downy mildew that devastated impatiens plantings? Over in Britain, the largest garden centres will not be selling their favourite summer plant this year after it was nearly wiped out by disease. The Royal Horticultural Society has warned gardeners to destroy any plant displaying symptoms of the disease, impatiens downy mildew. The fungus has developed a resistance to the fungicide that was being used to treat it. Commercial growers are hoping to stop the infection by breaking plantings for a year. The airborne disease appears as a white powder on the undersides of leaves, causing them to yellow and fall off, leaving a bare stem.
Diversion No. 3
Youths turned up their noses at a woodland drinking and drug den after it was spread with pig dung. Middlesborough Council in England came up with the cheap but effective method of combating antisocial behaviour in woods at Coulby Newham, reported The
Daily Telegraph. It said residents had complained about young people smoking drugs in the area, and, although there was a slight smell from the pig manure, locals “would rather have a pong than a bong.”
Why not take heed of what hairy groundhogs are predicting? Frankly, like their human meteorological equivalents, they aren’t always reliable, although perhaps looking somewhat cuddlier. But don’t even think of trying a hug. After several weeks of drowsing their bladders are known to respond in a Niagara fashion as one local politician once discovered, leaving many onlookers filled with admiration. So sorry, Shubenacadie Sam in Nova Scotia, Wiarton Willie and Gary in Kleinberg, Ontario, Brandon Bob in Manitoba and Balzac Billy in Alberta – it’s a lovely legend but gardeners would best look elsewhere for news of climatological kafuffles.
“Snow” is the most popular weather term used in naming geographical areas, features and places in Canada, according to Environment Canada’s Weather Calendar and if you think it’s cold, consider that 5th February often marks the dead of winter in Iqaluit, NU with temperature lows of -43.3ºC.
Diversion No. 4
Single women looking for love on Valentine’s Day should turn to bird watching to find out whom they will marry, according to the ancient art of ornithomancy. Dating back to Greek and Roman times, the practice dictates that the first bird an unmarried woman sees on Valentine’s Day is an omen of her future husband’s character.
Perhaps a better bet than bird watching on St. Valentine’s Day would be head to the
French resort of Cannes, specifically the strangely named but intimate hotel 3.14. According to The
Daily Telegraph, its five suites are each themed around a different continent. Europe is centred upon Paris during the Belle Époque. The room is scented with roses and cedarwood, presumably to evoke the life style of the City of Light – and love. Stranger is the Africa suite, featuring such unlikely attributed of the Dark Continent as “voluptuously shaped” brass light fittings, a scent of nutmeg, cinnamon and Damascus roses, and fine curtains that “drift in the breeze like an Oriental dancer.” Nutmeg, cinnamon and Damascus roses from Africa?
