Dogwood (Cornus) Trees

 By the water race.
Cornus Florida

Hello, spring. How are you feeling? Not too battered by the wind, I hope. So, what's new? The Dogwoods! How wonderful. You're moving into your Cornus phase? I love Dogwoods just as much as I love my dogs.

Way back in the day, when ornamental trees were just listings in catalogues, I picked a number of dogwoods out. This was simply because of their name. I wanted a symbol of my love of my own dog (Tajdog). Those initial plantings were some of my best ever. My records list Stokes Pink, Cherokee Sunset, Cherokee Chief (wrongly, as it turns out), Cornus Florida, Cornus Kousa, and Eddie's White Wonder.

The most amazing Dogwood ever has been Eddie's White Wonder, a memorial tree for my dearly departed near-white wonder cat, B-Puss. Full name Beige Puss, not the most romantic of names for such a beautiful cat. 'Eddie's Beige Wonder' wouldn't do the tree justice, either. The bracts start off a lime green, then fade to white and get really large. And my goodness, how they last - week after week, while other blossom trees come and go.

 The bracts start off quite greenish, then get larger and turn white.
Dogwood Eddies White Wonder

Some varieties are generously covered with smaller white spring bracts, while Cherokee Sunset and Stokes Pink have a splattering of scruffy pink ones. These dogwoods grow in a shadier place, and this might be why they don't put on a good show.

Of course it's not only spring when the Dogwoods shine. Their autumn colours are wonderful, and those with variegations have some stunning colour combinations.

Yeay for my dogs!

Yeay for my dogs! And special thanks to dear Tajdog, my very first country dog, for initiating all this.

My records (over twenty years old) claim that the Cornus in the Island Bed is the variety Cherokee Chief. But it can't be - Cherokee Chief has pink bracts, and this tree, while showing the appropriate leaf variegation, has white ones. It's possibly Cherokee Princess? Now her bracts are white, but her name doesn't ring any bells in my distant gardening memories. Hmm...