That Fabulous Fig

     There’s is an interesting book just out that is well worth seeking out at the library. The only reason I'm not going to do a full blown write up for the newsletter is one glaring problem-the book does not mention bonsai at all! Mike Shanahan’s slim volume Gods, Wasps and Stranglers still has plenty to interest the bonsai enthusiast who would like to know more about one of the most common (and popular) types of plant used in the hobby-the Ficus.
     There are more than 750 species of Ficus, found on all continents but Antarctica.  Aside from humans, Shanahan has calculated that figs

of one sort or another figure in the diets of 1274 other animals and birds. He also makes frequent mention how figs of different sorts figure in the spiritual and mythic fabric of many, many cultures. Figs are also worth knowing about because of their fascinating reproductive strategy.
      Figs are related to mulberries, and essentially a fig is a mulberry turned inside out. The technical word is an inflorescence (a group or cluster of flowers on a stalk). A fig fruit is called a syconium –an inflorescence which forms an enlarged, hollow fleshy receptacle with multiple ovaries on the inside surface. That’s a scientific and precise was of saying an inside out mulberry (and here is where precise, proper botanical terms get things tangled up with common words regular people like you and I use-mulberries and similar shaped fruits like blackberries and raspberries are not properly considered berries to the learned botanist, they are called aggregate fruits because they contain more than one ovary. True berries-blueberries, lignon berries, banana, tomatoes, watermelons, grapes and pumpkins (all technically berries!) have but one ovary.) The definition of that was mapped out in the precise botanical terms used above gets more clear when you consider that the fig’s seeds develop in dark safety while a mulberry’s are exposed to any sort of predator and disease.
     To assure there will be more figs in the future, pollen must reach the inside of that fig fruit, and to make certain that happens, each species of fig has a species of wasp that has learned to lay its eggs inside the fig itself-the insect enters through the tiny hole or eye at the end opposite the stem (another technical term, that eye is called an ostiole).

Fig wasps featured on postage stamps issued by the nation of Kenya.

     Shanahan mentions how linked certain forms of life are, in a sort of chain of survival. When droughts in Burma caused die off of many forest plants, the native Ficus were tough enough to survive, but conserved energy by not putting out fruit. With no place to lay eggs, the wasps died out in the area too, and no ripe fruit to eat, many species of bird and animal also suffered. When the drought ended, the figs came out of survival mode and produced fruit, but it took some time for wasp population to ramp back up to allow the full pollination tasks.


      So aside from not one mention of Ficus as bonsai, I think this book is well worth a trip to the library!

A favorite tree

I have really come to enjoy working with this species as bonsai, and find that I have become something of an apostle for it-recommending it as a first tree for new bonsai growers, and encouraging experienced growers who have not done so to give it a try.

Portulacaria afra The scientific names come from the plant’s marked similarity to Purslane  (the genus Portulaca) to which it is related. Afra because it is native to Africa.

It goes by many common names: Dwarf Jade, Elephant bush, in Afrikans it is called ‘Spekboom’ (porkbush). In its native region the it is referred to as  isiCococo (Zulu); iGqwanitsha (Xhoza).

                 Distribution and habitat: eastern parts of South Africa from the Eastern Cape northwards, crossing the national border into Mozambique. It thrives in warm regions in poor and sandy soils as well as rocky outcrops.

Although often called Dwarf Jade, it is not related to the familiar Jade plant (Crassula arboecens) though they share a habitat and ecological niche.  The other common name elephant bush is accurate-it is closely associated with the elephant, as  a source of food. Although the plant does produce seed, it reproduces vegetatively as well. As elephants feed  any uneaten shoots and branches that fall to the ground have a high rate of rooting. The plant and the animal have evolved together and their survival strategy depends on each other.  At Addo National Park, elephants feed heavily on the plant with no outside competition, and Portulacaria thrives and is wide spread. Outside the park the plants are eaten by goats that eat the plant from ground level upwards preventing the plant from spreading vegetatively. Consequently these plants must rely solely on seed to proliferate the species which often proves difficult in such a dry climate. It is observed that outside the park the plant is becoming sparse as a result of overgrazing and poor regeneration.

Elephant bush covered in bloom. Experts
claim the homey is the best for flavor and texture.
Note the interesting trunk texture and shape, even
much smaller trees can develop similar attributes.

Aside from elephants and goats, the plant is readily consumed by many animals both domestic and wild, and that includes humans.  The leaves have a sour or tart flavor, and can be eaten fresh or cooked in various ways. Aside from food, traditional medical uses include the increasing of breast milk by lactating mothers. The leaves are used to quench thirst, sucking a leaf is used to treat exhaustion, dehydration and heat stroke. Crushed leaves can be rubbed on blisters and corns on the feet to provide relief. The leaves are chewed as a treatment for sore throat and mouth infections while the astringent juice is used for soothing ailments of the skin such as pimples, rashes and insect stings. The juice is also used as an antiseptic and as a treatment for sunburn. The honey made from the flowers of Portulacaria is said to be " unsurpassable in flavour and texture" by one reference.

The plant is widely grown around the world, both as potted plant indoors and outside.  It can be used as a hedge and will take shearing.  It’s desert origins make it able to withstand less than ideal living conditions, so it has no trouble withstanding the dry conditions inside the average home. Several named varieties are available, including a prostrate/weeping form, and several variegated types.

All of the proceeding background may seem merely interesting, but look at some of the prominent clues, and you can see why this plant is a stellar candidate for bonsai: it comes from a dry habitat and is not fussy about water; it evolved to grow in what we use for bonsai potting mix, and it takes pruning well-what term would mean better than well.

As a bonsai, this plant can be grown in most every style. It’s natural form is an upright tree, but multiple trunk or cascading styles can be done.  It’s leaf form is smaller and more tree like the very similar true Jade plant, which with its smooth trunk and large plump leaves never makes a convincingly tree like image to my mind. Portulacaria responds to bonsai cultivation with small leaves, short internodes and lovely, well defined foliage masses.   Sizes from shohin on up to two or four man are possible and often seen, though the logistics of providing light and warm temperatures in northern latitudes means the largest sizes are best left to those who can let the plant remain outdoors all year-unless you have a few energetic interns and a green house!

They bud back from nodes fairly readily. If stumps are left during pruning, they will eventually dry out and fall off the plant.  Portulacaria is easily developed as bonsai with clip and grow techniques, and once an attractive profile is reached they should be pinched relentless relentlessly to maintain the look. They will develop nice tight pads of tiny leaves. New growth is fleshy, as would be expected for a succulent, though older growth becomes quite  solid, though it never truly lignifies. Most sources advise clip and grow techniques for styling, but the plant will respond to wire. Older branches can be a bit brittle, and individual leaves must be avoided.

The late Jim Smith works on one of his Portulacaria bonsai.
A tropical bonsai pioneer, Smith was a leading exponent
of the species as bonsai

Portulacaria can be propagated with almost no effort.  Sprigs of just a few nodes will strike roots, as will quite large branches. In South Africa the plant is used for land reclamation projects, and  pretty massive branches are planted in place and grow with a high success rate(more proof of how easily the plant reproduces from cuttings, and how well it will grow in the poorest of soils). It will also root from single leaves!  This ease of rooting means that starting new bonsai from the  well branched trimmings from older bonsai means an endless supply of new plants-simply place to  cutting in bonsai soil in the bonsai pot it will occupy and wait. Some sources advise a drying out period, especially for larger cutting to develop a ‘scab’ on the cut end, and use of rooting hormone is also advocated in some sources and claim as unnecessary by other. Personal experience shows rooting hormone is not needed, and that if you have the time and patience, a waiting period with cutting is worth doing but certainly not a nessecity. I have seen that after pruning a Portulacaria the fallen clippings             can lay on the workbench an amazing long time with out withering, and make viable cuttings.

Portulacria are heavy feeders.  Content to sit and tread water, so to speak, in poor soil, if fertilized at low levels frequently, they will grow like gangbusters-if in enough sun. I give mine full strength fisj emulsion several times a week in summer growing season. Since they are getting loads of sun AND are pinched, they do not grow leggy. Fertilizing at that rate in winter would produce grossly etiolated plants. These are plants that can take all day, unrelenting, merciless all day sun that would shrivel a juniper and love it.

Mass produced, commercial grade
bonsai like this are cranked out in the
thousands.   It takes just a bit of time
 and effort  to make this into a nice
 looking bonsai.

Watering these plants requires some caution.  Outside in high summer, during their active growth ( which is very, very active!) they can be watered like any other bonsai. Indoors, with less light and heat, living at a slower pace, they can be overwatered shockingly easily.

Overwatered Portulacaria start to drop leaves.  Growers who fail to observe there is a problem, and who keep dumping on the water will end up with a plant that has defoliated its self and rotten roots as well. Even from this sad circumstance the plant is tough enough to come back if watered judiciously.  I’ve fought with mine every winter I have had them, and Ive finally learned to water much, much less than you think they need during the winter.

A bonsai by Adam Lavigne shows what a
bit of wire and imagination can do!

That caution with moisture extends to repotting time.  These plants, like most tropicals, can be repotted anytime, but once the task is completed, skip one familiar step-Don’t Water!  Adam Lavigne recommends this rule, and I agree- Don’t water until you see the plant putting out new growth, otherwise you risk a serious case of rot.  His logic is that unlike ‘regular’ plants, where moisture encourages new roots,  succulents send out roots to look for moisture. Starting repotted plants-or cutting-dry encourages/forces them to throw out new roots.

Though it is a tropical, it can stand a bit of cold, like most desert dwellers. It can survive to freezing, though it may sulk and temperatures lower still may damage the plant. San Marcos Growers,a California wholesaler reports them as hardy to 25 degrees from practical experience, and plants survived a bout of -20 degrees ( with stem damage).

If you want even more information about this tremendous plant, look here:

http://ofbonsai.org/species-specific/tropical/portulacaria-afra-a-monograph-part-one

http://ofbonsai.org/species-specific/tropical/portulacaria-afra-a-monograph-part-two

ALso, Florida bonsai artist Adam Lavigne uses the sepies frequnelty, check out his excellant blog: 

https://adamaskwhy.com/

A Portulacaria obviously grown indoors, under less than ideal light
conditions. The internodes-space between leaves-are long, and
the plant is lanky.  Stock like this has tremendous potential as bonsai.

“The teacher and the student walk the same path”

Nick Offerman may be most familiar as the government hating government official Ron Swanson on the TV series Parks & Recreation.  Aside from acting, Offerman is an enthusiastic and skilled wood worker, and in his latest book Good Clean Fun, though on the surface about the pursuit of wood working, he discusses one of theintersections of art and life that influenced him both as a person and a creator.

Offerman attended the University of Illinois at Urbana/Champaign, and one of his instructors was a man named Shozo Sato. Versed in many Japanese art  forms such as kabuki theatre, sumi painting, calligraphy and tea ceremony, Sato was a prime motivator of Japan House, an institution that gave the opportunity for the broader community to study Japanese aesthetics and traditional arts to gain a deeper sensitivity towards diverse cultures.

Years out of college, Offerman still refers to Sato as sensei-teacher-and displays with pride in his wood shop two scrolls, examples of calligraphy executed by Sato that are great thoughts to absorb and ponder for any creative person-bonsai artists included.

The first translates as “The teacher and the student walk the same path”. It’s a potent reminder that whatever endeavor, we start as beginners, and our advances are usually due to guidance and instruction from others. The other scroll means “The Way of Art is the Way of the Buddha”.  Offer man suggests that this is a constant reminder that ‘ whenever I am creating art of any stripe, my honest labor should be assayed with reverence and devotion’.

Bonsai in literature

The first half of the January Meeting of the Columbus Bonsai Society was a presentation about bonsai history.  One of the minor points jumped out at me. It hit what you may refer to as the ‘nerd trifecta’ : bonsai, history and theatre. Dan mentioned a classic piece of Japanese literature. Hacki-no-ki, usually translated as The Potted Trees is an ancient piece of Japanese theatre, a play based on a folktale from around the end of the 1300s.  For comparison, that’s about the time Geoffrey Chaucer would have been writing the Canterbury Tales, and Shakespeare wouldn’t be born for 184 years.

The play tells the story of Tsuneyo, a samurai who has lost his lands and position through the political maneuvers of others. One cold night a wandering monk knocks at their door, and Tsuneyo and his wife invite the traveler in.  They have little to offer in the way of comfort, but share what they can.

Here is some important dialogue. Notice the formal style of the language:

Tsuneyo:	"How cold it is!  And as the night passes, each hour the frost grows keener.  If I had but fuel to light a fire with, that you might sit by it and warm yourself!  Ah!  I have thought of something.  I have some dwarf trees.  I will cut them down and make a fire out of them."
Monk:	"Have you indeed dwarf trees?"
Tsuneyo:	”Yes, when I was in the World [of society] I had a fine show of dwarfed trees; but when my trouble came, I had no more heart for tree fancying, and gave them away.  But three of them I kept -- plum, cherry, and pine.  Look, there they are covered with snow.  They are precious to me; yet for this night's entertainment, I will gladly set light to them."
Monk:	"No, no, that must not be.  I thank you for your kindness, but it is likely that one day you will go back to the world again and need them for your pleasure.  Indeed it is not to be thought of."
Tsuneyo:	“My life is like a tree the earth has covered; I shoot no blossoms upward to the world."
Wife:	"And should we burn for you these shrubs, these profitless toys."

An historical photo, taken of
a performance in 1931.

The Potted Trees is part of a Japanese drama form call Noh, which literally mean ‘talent’ such as the display of talent in performance. A feature of Noh drama is a very formal style of language, emphasis on intricately constructed sentences and very limited use of gestures to help emphasize particular words or phrases.   A chorus of speakers is seated behind the main acting area, and the things they say in unison  often comment on the action or help the audience know the main character’s thoughts.

As the three bonsai are being chopped down, the chorus chants:

Shall I from one who has cast life aside, dear life itself, withhold these trivial trees?'  Then he brushed the snow from off them, and when he looked, 'I cannot, cannot,' he cried.  'O beautiful trees, must I begin?'
     'You plum-tree, among bare boughs blossoming hard by the window, still on northward face snow-sealed, yet first to scent cold air with flowers, earliest of spring: you first shall fall... Hewn down for firewood.  Little had I thought my hand so pitiless!'
     'You cherry, because each spring your blossom comes behind the rest, I thought a lonely tree and reared you tenderly.  But now I, I am lonely left, and you, cut down, shall flower but with flame.'
     'You now, O pine, whose branches I had thought one day when you were old to lop and trim, standing you as a post in the field, such use shall never know.  Tree, whom the winds have ever wreathed with quaking mists, now shimmering in the flame shall burn and burn...'"

From this picture of sadness, the play does end happily. The monk is in fact a high government official, travelling in disguise to see what things are like with the common people.  Impressed by Tsuneyo’s kindness and loyalty, the poor samurai  is restored to his lands, and has additional estates granted to him, the name of each of these containing the words “Ume” (plum), “Sakura” (cherry) and “Matsu” (pine) , referencing the sacrificed trees.

Many Noh plays utilize masks. They are made of Cypress
 wood-what bonsai growers know as hinoki!

Noh plays use no scenery-the backdrop is always
 the same image-a traditional Japanese pine 

Bonsai is often referred to as an ancient art.  The fact that the keeping of trees in pots would be a plot point in a piece of popular entertainment, that most people would understand and be familiar with, show that  what is no referred to as bonsai must have be widely practiced at the time this play was being preformed, that’s about 600 years or so! Interesting to note that at the time the play was written, the growing of trees in containers was called by the phrase used as the work’s title Hachi-no-ki ( literally “the bowl’s tree”). Bonsai (“the tray’s plant”)  became the more usual term  in Japan in the mid 1700’s, and is how the rest of the world refers to the practice even today.  It’s hard to know exactly what a bonsai of that ancient time period looked like, but it is probable that if three bonsai could serve to make a worthwhile fire, that had to be fairly large-no shohin!

Points of focus

     How often does bonsai  leak out into your real life?

Sure it’s easy to let the mind wander and see what pruning or wiring ought to be done on a (full-size)tree you pass on a country road. And the urge to examine nursery stock or landscape planting with a critical eye never seems to fade away.

     There is a white pine seedling that popped up in the front flower bed awhile back. Rather that cut it off, I  pulled the candles. The next year I did the same thing.  This has gone on to the point where years later, there is a nice, thick tree,  a tree that is almost too large to de-candle by hand. This year the job got done by strong arming  both my kids into giving a hand.  Next to the pine is a standard  red berry “Christmas” holly. No joke, I actually had a pair of shears in my hand and was going to snip off every growing tip so shape and encourage fullness. The tree is six feet tall and probably four feet wide!  Not sure what I was thinking, but it quickly became apparent that trying to do this job “bonsai” style” would take all day.  Standard hedge clippers got the work done in less than five minutes.

     That mental  urge to do things the bonsai way can be hard to kick. And sometimes it seems, it makes bonsai our only form of reference.

Like most of us, I spend a fair amount of time with the bonsai in my backyard. If I can’t be found in the house, my family knows to find me there. Usually-almost always –I’m on my own, so that bonsai space is a bit of a refuge and sanctuary.   I’ve made the joke more than once that my kids request for a swing set or trampoline was turned down because there wasn’t room for that AND the trees (I was only half joking, OK, ¾ joking).

      That solitary pursuit of bonsai may be restful and calm, but can mean that those around us don’t know nearly as much about bonsai as we assume. This knowledge gap was pointed out to me a few years ago in a conversation with my father, who worked as a carpenter all his life. He could identify a plank of wood simply by species and sometimes growth region at first glance, but his breakdown of living trees was  “Christmas trees” and  “ones you have to rake in the fall”.

 An exaggeration for comic effect, but not by much.

Assuming that those around us know what we know simply by living in the same house prompted the following text exchange with my son not so long ago:

Me: I think I missed a tree, make sure the big crabapple is wet.

Son: which one is that?

Me: the one with flowers

Son: which one?

Me: the crab apple-green pot

Son: Which green pot?

Me: the rectangle!

This whole topic of assuming knowledge was brought home to me once again on a recent overcast morning, when rain was probable. I was heading out the back door to water when my wife asked if I really needed to water today.  Like many “civilians”  think I fuss too much. Maybe I do, but I have gotten better-we can go out of town and I usually only wonder out loud if the neighbor kid remembered to come over maybe once or twice.  She had no idea why I was taking the time to water when it was probably going to rain any way. The fact that  you can’t rely on the rain to come, or to be adequate water if it does, and for the right amount of water to get into that little pot where all concepts she’s never had to deal with

What's in a Scientific name?

      At a meeting of the Columbus Bonsai Society a few months ago,  the talk took a slight digression to cover how important proper names can be.  Identification is important. Being familiar with binomial nomenclature-what is usually known as ‘the scientific name’-can be a great way to sound well informed, or just pretentious. Usually a bit of both at the same time.
     Why learn what seems like a new language? Imagine going to the nursery and asking for some myrtle. You’ve heard it can be a great  bonsai, indoors or out, and hardy to boot. (that’s all true, by the way). So when the nursery  employee shows you some trailing vies labeled as ground cover, you’re more than a little confused. How does that turn into a believable bonsai?
     Setting aside another bonsai issue (the conundrum that a vine can indeed be a bonsai-see wisteria, poison ivy, etc) the myrtle mix up comes from the fact that many plants that are quite different can have identical or nearly identical names.  Both regular folks and interested parties like farmers and scientists have noticed this for some time, and various systems to deal with the matter of identification sprung up during human history.
     The system as it exists today, referred to as binomial nomenclature because it almost always uses two names to refer to all living things, what developed by the Swedish botanist Carl Linneaus in the mid 1700s.  Linneaus simplified matters by limiting to two names what previously had no limits.  Dealing with only two names was far simpler and much more efficient than remembering five, seven or even more words, and the system gained quick acceptance. Today every plant and animal, as well as things like algae, fungus and bacteria have a name assigned to them.
     The usefulness of the system shows if we consider the myrtle question.  The myrtle that is best for bonsai has a number of common names, such as Greek Mytrle, True myrtle and is called scientifically Myrtus communis.  Crepe myrtle can also make a good bonsai and its scientific name is Lagerstromia indica. The vining myrtle, also referred to as dwarf periwinkle, is called Vinca minor.
     Each name consists of two elements, Genus then species.  In arrangement and content, they resemble the human naming convention prevalent in Asian cultures-Genus roughly equivalent to a family name, and species  is more specific  For instance: Felis catus (the domestic cat)and Felis silvestris (the wild cat)are two species within the genus Felis. Felis is a genus within the family Felidae.
     Usage rules suggest that binomials are italicized when typed or printed, and underlined when hand written, to set them apart.  When using both binomial, on first mention the should be spelled in full, there after its OK to clip the genus-Juniperus chinensis, then J. chinensis. If a varietl name is used, it comes after the other two words and is not italicized Juniperus chinensis “Shimpaku”.
     The rules are basically the same for animals and plants, but there are differences. Interestingly, plants can not repeat a word, but animals may do so-that animal on the back of the nickel is properly known as Bison bison. Also, names can be used for both life forms! That means that there are plants and anaimls that have the same genus name, but of course, are not related. Perhaps most interesting ( or confusing of all) "Binomial nomenclature" is the correct term for botany, although it is also used by zoologists.[ Since 1953, "binominal nomenclature" is the technically correct term in zoology. A binominal name is also called a binomen (plural binomina)

Remodeling an Erodium rock planting

This is a small planting of Erodium reichardii, also known as Crane's bill,
I've had Erodium in my collection for ever, an there seems to be some turn over. The plants are easy to propagate from cuttings, so I usually have a bunch in various stages of development-cuttings, in development and 'finished' enough for display.  The plants seems to peter out after a few years, so don't get attached to any particular one. But on the other hand, they turn from undistinguished cuttings to nice looking little bonsai fairly quickly.
There was a planting of three, but the plant that was located in the far left corner of the pot died off and needed replaced.
I had several cutting that might work, so decided to pull them all out of pots, stick one that worked in to this planting, and root prune and repot the others

A root cutting after about two years. It has been in full sun from April through October while out doors, under a florescent tube over winter inside.
I fertilized liberally with a low N feed, so they grow wild. Its a good way to develop 'trunk' thickness.

On the left, the plant pulled out of its pot. notice the mass of roots. Erodium produces lots and lots of fine feeder roots, and when repotting, the root mass can be reduced by at least half with care.

Photos on the right show the tiny plant after trimming dead leaves and some major root work. This one has an interesting base of twisted roots, that unfortunately  doesn't fit well in the intended space. This one will
go into a  training pot for another year.

Here's another potential applicant for the spot, and the training pot it came out of. Yes that is what is left of a tuna can! Waste not, want not!
This plant also was a bit to large-in fact far to large to fit in this small grouping, It look well developed enough to go right into a little mame pot.

Third time is a charm, this one looks like a good fit.

Checking on the angle.

Set in place. Notice the new soil, which shows a
 different color since it has not been watered yet.

The completed planting