GLAMOROUS CROTON\
I have never had much use for those garden pundits who say flowers are overrated and that true horticultural sophisticates eschew blossoms in favor of the many splendors of foliage. I love flowers and refuse to apologize for it. Yes, they are ephemeral, but so are brownies, butterflies and lots of other good things. Even the most distinctive leaves will rarely make my heart sing the way roses do. Fortunately, those of us who are flower fanatics can find common ground with the foliage fiends by using croton in our indoor and outdoor landscapes. The foliage is so riotously colored that the leaves might as well be flowers.
Even if your local nursery or garden center never labels the crotons, they probably carry them. At this time of the year, the plants may be towards the back of the display areas, displaced by thousands of blooming specimens. They are, however, unmistakable–large-leafed foliage plants that can grow to six feet tall, but usually range from one to three feet tall in stores. Depending on the variety, the heavily ribbed, elongated leaves shine in combinations of red, green, purple-bronze, yellow and white. Most are downright gaudy. If you buy a croton now, it will coordinate perfectly with all the holiday divas like poinsettia, amaryllis and holly. Later on, when the flowers have come and gone, the croton will soldier on, bringing color to even the dullest grouping of spider plants, schefflera and ficus.
Given the colorful foliage and small, insignificant flowers, it isn’t surprising to learn that crotons are related to poinsettias. Both belong to the large Euphorbia family and feature stems that contain a characteristic thick, milky sap. If you have children or pets, put your croton out of reach. The sap that is irritating to skin and dangerous to ingest.
As with much botanical nomenclature, the name “croton” creates confusion. Within the Euphorbia family, there is a genus called “Croton,” consisting of over 700 species of perennials, trees and shrubs. None of those 700 species are as important ornamentally as Codiaeum variegatum var. pictum, sold universally as “croton.” Fortunately the average person does not hobnob with botanists and can safely say “croton” instead of “Codiaeum.”
Crotons came originally from the Malay Peninsula, South India and Sri Lanka. The name was bestowed by the great taxonomist Linnaeus in the eighteenth century. Since making their way to Europe and the New World, the plants have been bred to create ever more colorful leaves. One popular variety, that resembles the anonymous specimens I have seen most often in retail establishments, is ‘Petra’, with bright green leaves ribbed in yellow and red. It is hard to find a wider selection, but I suspect gardeners who live in frost free zones may have more luck in local garden centers and nurseries.
In parts of Florida and California, crotons have long been popular as hedge and specimen plants and were widely used for commercial installations, including those for gas stations, motels and shopping areas, in the middle of the twentieth century. The fact that there are variegatum cultivars named after both Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt attests to the species’ popularity in the nineteen thirties and forties.
For those of us in cold winter climates, crotons are congenial houseplants, preferring fertile soil and bright, indirect sunlight. Southeast or southwest-facing windows provide the light exposure most conducive to developing and sustaining good leaf color. Protect the plants from drafts and mist regularly if the indoor air is dry. When warm weather rolls around, crotons can go outside, but should be protected from direct summer sun exposure. As night temperatures dip into the fifties in the fall, return the plants to their indoor locations.
Crotons make good holiday gifts for discerning plant lovers who have the space to accommodate larger potted specimens. Pick one up at a local merchandiser or order one of several available varieties from Glasshouse Works, 10 Church Street, P.O. Box 97, Stewart, OH 45778, (740) 662-2142, www.glasshouseworks.com.