By Jim McCausland, Sunset Magazine
Reading the Gossler’s new shrub book reminded me how much I like the witch hazels...and how strange they are, with their thread-like flower petals and the clean, sweet fragrant that somehow holds its own in cold winter air.
I was introduced to witch hazel extract long before I knew about the plant. My mother, a nurse, kept a bottle of this astringent around as a topical treatment for everything from acne to hemorrhoids. As a boy, I thought of it as an odd, gin-like magic potion: why else would it be called “witch” hazel? W.J. Bean (Trees and Shrubs Hardy in the British Isles) apparently thought the same thing, but we both may have been wrong. It turns out that the “witch” part of the name probably came from the middle English root word “wiche,” meaning “flexible.” We see the word again in wych elm (Ulmus glabra), whose flexible shoots develop their full expression in Camperdown elm.
As the story goes, when Europeans who settled North American noticed the similarity between the leaves of Hamamelis virginiana and those of European hazelnuts, which they used to make divining rods, they called the American tree witch hazel.
My ‘Arnold Promise’ witch hazel (shown here) has been filling the garden with color and sweet fragrance for nearly three weeks now. Like most other Hamamelis x intermedia varieties, this cross between Chinese (H. mollis) and Japanese (H. japonica) witch hazels blooms at the same time as both of its ancestral lines, in winter and early spring. The Southern native witch hazel (H. vernalis) does the same, but the east-coasts native, H. virginiana, flowers in autumn, just as the leaves are coloring. This last one becomes a small tree; the others top out at 10 to 20 feet.
Every winter about this time I nip off a few inches of flowers to put in a vase indoors, where they perfume the house for a week or more. If I’m lucky I’ll get a seed pod too (left). These tame looking fruits, which are from last year’s bloom, open up the day after they’re exposed to warm indoor temperatures. That’s when the fun starts. Without notice, they shoot black seeds up to 30 feet, caroming them off walls, appliances, and pets. If you want to save the seeds, slip a sandwich bag over the pod.
You can plant the seeds if you’re patient and don’t mind risk. Witch hazel seeds commonly take up to two years to germinate, then even then grow slowly and unpredictably. W.J. Bean quoted a propagator as saying that “you sow seeds, and you may get anything.” To be fair, the reference was to Japanese witch hazel, which is more variable than most.
Witch hazel flowers grow mostly upside down, as shown at right. (The picture at the top is of a spray of flowers that has been cut and reoriented so you could see the flowers at the base of the petals.) This downward orientation is something you only notice up close; from a distance, it doesn't subtract a thing from the plant's beauty (below). But it does help keep rain out of them.
Default petal color is pale to golden yellow, with hybrids producing petals in shades of orange and red as well. H. vernalis also has reddish petals. And the petals themselves have a lovely crumpled look, except on H. mollis. These are worth looking at closely. An overwintering Anna's hummingbird does just that in my garden, often sunning herself among the flowers when she's not sipping the nectar, which must be one of her only winter food supplies.
Finally, remember to put these where you can enjoy not just their winter flowers, but their autumn color. The witch hazels, Hamamelis, gave their genus name to their whole family, Hamamelidaceae, which includes such fall color champs as Disanthus, Fothergilla, Liquidambar, and Parrotia.
Those of you with sharp eyes will notice that my 'Arnold Promise' witch hazel, shown below, is planted way too close to the Fargesia behind it. Big mistake—the mother 'Arnold Promise' plant in Arnold Arboretum reached about 20 ft. tall and wide—but these plants transplant well (the one shown spent the first four years of its life in a big pot on my deck). I'm sure you'll get it right with your plant the first time. But don't delay: these are in flower now, so you can see just what you're getting when you buy.