witch hazels

In the past few days the witch hazels have suddenly started into flower.  I looked out of the bathroom window this morning and there they were, a haze of yellow, orange and red in front of the wood.  I planted my first couple of bushes in the open ground years ago, in one of the few relatively moist parts of the garden, thinking they would not like the free-draining sand elsewhere.  They probably wouldn't have, but they didn't like the place I had chosen for them either, which turned out to be badly drained, heavy and stagnant as distinct from moisture retentive but open.  After a couple of years I tried lifting and potting them, but the rot had set in, literally as well as figuratively, and they never came to anything.  By then I had got keen on the idea of Hamamelis in pots, so replaced them, and am now up to seven, which may have to be my limit as I'm running out of space.

They are not supposed to like container life particularly, but this lot seem to be doing pretty well so far.  I keep an eye on the amount of extension growth made each year, and start worrying if they stop growing.  I read a very lucid account of their cultivation in an old RHS magazine, which stated something I've observed myself, that once witch hazels have stopped growing it is difficult to get them going again.  They don't flower on their newest wood, so a vigorous plant should have a length of smooth unflowered twig beyond the flowering part of the stem.  The flower buds look like small clenched fists, and start to develop in late summer for the following year, while the leaf buds are flatter and pointed.  The oldest and largest of my collection are now in 45cm unglazed terracotta pots, which is the largest size the two of us can handle.  I firmly believe in the merits of unglazed clay, and never line it with black plastic as so many garden writers suggest.  Yes, it would cut down on water loss by evaporation and hence the amount of work watering, but that evaporating water is cooling the roots.

They sit well in a country garden.  The leaves look very like those of native British hazel, so after flowering they blend into the background for the summer.  Keith Wiley used this characteristic at the excellent Garden House in Devon when he was head gardener there.  He has moved on to new projects, but his book On the wild side is worth a read, if you are interested in the relationship between gardens and landscapes.  Despite their similar names, and appearance when out of flower, witch hazel and hazel are not closely related.  Hamamelis are in the family Hamamelidaceae, along with Corylopsis, Fothergilla, Liquidambar and Parrotia, among others.  Hazel is a member of the Corylaceae, together with Carpinus (hornbeam) and Ostrya (hop hornbeam).

My yellow and orange forms are opening ahead of the red.  H. x intermedia 'Vesna' makes a splendid show, with large flowers of deep yellow.  'Orange Peel' is a more orange shade of yellow, with a red flush at the base of each petal.  Both of these varieties do have the irritating habit of hanging on to a few dead leaves, so I must wizz round them with the secateurs.  'Jelena' is more coppery still, with petals shading from red at the base to orange at the tips.  'Pallida' is not yet fully out, and looks a bit sparse in comparison, though maybe the yellow flowers will expand more in a day or two.  This variety is reckoned to be one of the best for scent.  Hamamelis mollis, the Chinese form, is fully out, and the lemon yellow flowers are smaller than some of the hybrids, though again this is one of the best for scent.  Christopher Lane has written a plant collector guide on witch hazels for the RHS, published by Timber Press, which has long been on my wish list of books, though without yet resulting in a purchase, so I can't offer you a review.  He will tell you how to prune them, should their size become an issue for you, and wrote a good piece in The Garden magazine about two years ago.