THE DUALITY OF HOLLY
There are certain times when I dislike the large holly trees in my front yard. I curse their spiny leaves when I have to get on my knees and weed the beds in their vicinity. It doesn’t matter how thick the gloves are or the kneepads, I invariable get stabbed many times. Fallen foliage is no better. Even when the leaves are brown and dried, the prickles remain intact and dangerous. The prickle peril is also constant when I prune stray branches and dispose of them. On occasion I tell myself that I have met barberries with better dispositions than my English hollies.
Pain also stabs at me every other year when I pay the tree surgeon to come and give my hollies a thorough trimming. The large bushes could easily obscure the second story windows and climb towards the roof, if left to their own devices. Branches that droop to the ground also tend to root themselves, protected by the ample leaf litter. I would rake out the leaf litter more often, but then I would be stuck–literally and figuratively–with spines again.
Despite all of the above, you can’t beat holly for beautiful foliage, vigor, value as a habitat plant and the absolute necessity of having it at this time of the year. In fact, it is probably a form of Christmas sacrilege to disparage holly at all. I have a strong suspicion that my punishment for casting aspersions on holly is that the next time I go out on a windy day, one of my own trees will probably smite me with a berry-laden branch.
There are over 400 holly species in the world, including about fifteen native to North America. The best known holiday hollies are cultivated varieties of Ilex aquifolium or English holly. The Latin descriptors are especially apt. “Ilex” is the name the Romans originally bestowed on another evergreen tree, the Holm oak, now known as Quercus ilex. The Holm oak, native to the Mediterranean, has shiny, dark green leaves that are toothed on the edges. It is little wonder that when the Roman Empire expanded into northern Europe, they called native evergreen holly “Ilex” as well. The species name, “aquifolium”, means “with pointy leaves.”
Sometimes Ilex opaca, an American holly, is also used for seasonal decorations. While its leaves are not quite as showy as those of English holly, the berries are just as decorative. Ilex meservae, the “blue holly”, is also popular. Its leaves are a little less spiny than those of some other hollies and the color tends towards the bluish end of the blue-green spectrum.
One of my favorite hollies is winterberry holly, Ilex verticillata. Unlike many of its relatives, winterberry is deciduous and looses its leaves when cold weather sets in. The long stalks are naked except for the bright red berries, and many flower arrangers consider the winterberries even more beautiful than their evergreen relatives.
Holly and Christmas came together by way of the Roman feast of Saturnalia. When the Romans arrived in northern Europe, they found that holly was already important to the Celts and possibly the Druids. Held in esteem because of its evergreen nature, holly also had spiny leaves that, according to many sources, were thought to be helpful in warding off evil spirits. Saturnalia, a harvest festival held around the time of the winter solstice on December 21, included holly decorations, sometimes paired with ivy, as in the old carol, “The Holly and the Ivy.” Early Christians adapted Roman and pagan traditions and rituals and holly came to be associated with Christmas, the Christian feast closest in time to Saturnalia. Holly acquired a great deal of Christian symbolism in the centuries that followed.
If you want to grow holly for holiday decorations or because of its virtues as a landscape plant, you will have to acknowledge the realities of plant sex. To get the brilliant red berries, you need both male and female plants. One male can pollinate several females and the male in question can belong to a neighbor, as long as it isn’t too far away. Insects do the actual pollination. The female plants produce the berries.
My mother used to go mad with holly at Christmastime, reveling in her English heritage. She filled the house with holly-spiked arrangements and gave boxes of branches as gifts to friends. Even the grandfather clock wore a holly wreath atop its bonnet. In keeping with our holiday traditions, we gathered all the desiccated holly on Twelfth Night and burned it along with regular logs in the fireplace. To keep that spirit alive this season, I will combine English and variegated hollies from my garden into arrangements for the house and a kissing ball for the living room doorway. The holly leaves stab me in December as surely as they stab me in June, but somehow the pain is much more bearable at holiday time.
If you want to grow holly, a good place to shop for some of the best varieties is ForestFarm, 990 Tetherow Road, Williams, OR 97544; (541) 846-7269; www.forestfarm.com. Catalog $5.00.