Two striking specimens stare me down as I make my morning cup of joe. Their brilliant shades of fuchsia and crimson, framed in neighboring windows, deliver an instant jolt of energy before I’ve taken my first sip of coffee. In that moment, I feel ready for summer and for a thousand more blissful moments to come.
Rhododendrons have an almost royal presence in the New England landscape and their effect on me is to make a kind of mental genuflection, which is to say they have my respect. The steady rains of spring have provided a robust start to the trees and shrubs in the landscape, so it’s a particularly good year for the rhododendrons. Whether seen at a distance or up close, they instill awe. You cannot ignore them. They are main players, even if they aren’t meant to be.
This observation has proven true over the years and across a variety of locations. In Newport, I found these magnificent trees flanking the stately grounds of The Elms, the historic Bellevue Avenue estate built in 1901 for coal magnate Edward Berwind. Although nearly all of the original elms succumbed to disease long ago, a collection of expertly sculpted specimens now complements the mansion’s imposing architecture. In spring, masses of flowering rhododendrons heightened the scene’s grandeur, unfolding before the eye like a vibrant pop-up illustration from a children’s book.
Another memorable “rhody moment” occurred while pedaling my bike through Fairhaven’s historic village, forcing me to an involuntary halt, de-cleating as I reached for my camera. There they stood like sentinels outside a fortress, coloring an entrance walk while framing an American flag.
Expected encounters can be just as rewarding. Sitting shotgun while my Dad drove his golf cart through his back forty where he grows rhododendrons among other herbaceous material, I saw them… looking like soldiers returning victorious from the fields at Agincourt. (Ok that is a slight exaggeration, but they really had presence out in the green field.)
Naturally, my own collection of rhododendrons come from my father’s, and I opted for different colors; a decision that has resulted in a continuous swirl of color, especially now that they have grown together. With a privet hedge backdrop and an understory of ferns, hosta, epimedium, and lily of the valley, I have dubbed it my woodland garden. A mountain laurel and two towering white pines complete the picture with intermittent bluebells and foxgloves. Now in its zenith, you might say, but no less impressive in winter when it touts shiny evergreen leaves that keep the theme going.
Later in the day when I carry on weeding, I will go in for a closer view of the voluptuous petals. It’s something Georgia O’Keefe might have painted had she lived in New England with the delicate striations and splashes of color. Post flowering, I remove their spent blossoms one by one, a therapeutic habit that expresses my full dedication to these plants.
Rhododendron species are found in the wild from the arctic regions to the tropics, spanning a wide range of climates, according to the American Rhododendron Society, a non-profit organization whose purpose is to encourage interest in and to disseminate information about the genus Rhododendron. In the United States, a large number of hybrids flourish in the Pacific Northwest, especially between the Cascades and the Pacific Ocean.
From the ARS website I learned that Rhododendrons and their subgenus azaleas belong to the heath family (Ericaceae) which includes the heaths and heathers, blueberries, mountain laurels and several other ornamental plant groups. Most of these plants require acid soil and good drainage. They don’t like disturbance of their roots, so mulching them with leaves is recommended. I use the readily available spent pine needles and that seems to work fine.
Although sunlight is essential to full flowering, the plants will grow in shade and in some cases, some shade should be provided as protection from the early morning sunlight during winter. Many rhododendrons grow naturally under complete or partial shade of a forest canopy, but they will succeed in sunnier locations.
For rhododendrons planted in less fertile soils, a complete fertilizer designed for acid-loving plants may be applied in late winter or early spring. Be careful not to exceed recommended amounts. In cold climate zones nitrogen fertilizer should not be applied after late June as it may promote new lush growth susceptible to winter damage.
As with many plants, rhododendrons have a place in literary symbolism. British author Daphne Du Maurier’s novel Rebecca, makes references to the character of Rebecca using the image of “blood red” rhododendrons throughout the novel as a cautionary note. This is believed to parallel the plant’s toxic roots and poisonous character of Rebecca and also foreshadows spilled blood and red flames of Manderley that burns at the novel’s conclusion.
Rhododendrons are native to parts of Asia, including Nepal, where they are celebrated as the national flower. Their blossoms are considered edible and prized for their pleasantly tart flavor; the juice is even commercially produced and sold. Today, more than 1,000 species of rhododendrons are found around the world, ranging from cultivated specimens that anchor designed landscapes to wild populations that spill across remote mountain slopes.
With summer fast approaching and the blooms already beginning to fade, we won’t soon forget our first embrace.
“There is a sumptuous variety about the New England weather that compels the stranger’s admiration – and regret. The weather is always doing something there; always attending strictly to business; always getting up new designs and trying them on people.” – Mark Twain.
The Seaside Gardener
By Laura McLean