Winged Euonymus

At this time of the year in my area you could throw a stone in any direction and hit a winged euonymus, which sounds like it should be some kind of a dragon or at least an exotic dragonfly.  In fact it is only a shrub, known botanically as Euonymus alatus.  Landscapers, catalog vendors and just about everyone else know it as “burning bush.”

The burning bush takes fiery flight in fall, setting landscapes –from shopping malls to back alleys – ablaze with brilliant red color.  This almost makes up for the fact that the rest of the year it passes among us unnoticed, hiding its light under a bushel of dowdy green foliage.

Burning bush was introduced from Asia about 1860, a time when many exciting new ornamentals arrived from the Far East.  It is a member of the Celastraceae or bittersweet family, which is also home to the red and orange-fruited bittersweet vines that are popular for harvest decorations.  Left to their own devices, the burning bush species shrubs grow a whopping fifteen to twenty feet tall, with a similar spread.  The habit is mounded and spreading, though most of us see burning bush clipped to a fare-thee-well.  The opposed leaves are oval or elliptical, somewhat serrate or toothed and generally narrower at the stem end.

The wings that give winged euonymus its Latin and common names are on the stems; flat, corky appendages that jut out on either side of shoots. The shrubs flower in spring, bearing tiny, four-petaled blooms in clusters of three.  The yellow-green flowers go almost unnoticed.

Humble Euonymus alatus stands silently among us until the moment when severe color deprivation begins to creep in.  Our fall stalwarts, the mums and asters, have given up the ghost and even the ornamental gourds have faded.  The deer and groundhogs have polished off the bright purple and green decorative cabbages and kales.  Autumn winds have blown the colorful leaves off the maples and other trees.  We are left with little but waning daylight and the knowledge that the winter solstice is still a month off.  Just as Seasonal Affective Disorder starts seeping into our souls, the burning bushes light up, with the reddest possible leaves and our foundation plantings, traffic islands and municipal landscape beds catch fire.  Even people who rarely notice autumn foliage notice the bursts of color.  Spirits lift and people decide that they might be able to make it through until the Christmas wreathes go up.

There are many cultvars of burning bush, developed either to enhance the brilliant red leaf color or create a more compact size, since not everyone loves to clip shrubs all the time.  The most popular variety and the one most likely to appear in your local nursery or garden center is “Compactus,” which can grow up to ten feet tall, with slender branches and a dense habit that makes it the best choice for hedging and screening.  “Odom,” sold under the trademarked name Little Moses, is exceptionally compact at about three feet tall.  The foliage is brilliant red and stays on the plants up to fourteen days longer than the species.  “Odom” also produces significantly fewer fruits, which is a plus because the fruits are beloved of an array of birds that eat them and excrete the seeds, distributing the plants far and wide.  Euonymus has invaded naturalized areas in many places, especially in the Middle Atlantic region and southern New England, and is considered invasive in those areas.

I worry about invasive plants like burning bush, because I have seen woodland areas taken over by species like Halls’ honeysuckle, multiflora rose and Chinese wisteria, all of which were originally brought to this country as ornamental plants.  Each one has its virtues, attracting pollinators, providing food and shelter for birds and small animals and sometimes controlling erosion.  However, they outcompete native plants and create dangerous monocultures.  Diversity is healthier in the long run.

If you like the looks of burning bush, but live in an area where invasiveness is a problem, try blueberry.  In the northern half of the country, highbush blueberry – Vaccinium corymbosum – is the species to look for.  Gardeners living in the southern United States should choose rabbiteye blueberry – Vaccinium ashei – varieties, which succeed in warmer climates.  Blueberries bear lovely pink flowers in spring and brilliant red foliage in autumn.  If you can outwit the birds, the berries are delicious in late June or early July.  You can’t say that about burning bush fruits.

And if you decide that you would rather not use burning bush because of its invasive tendencies, don’t be discouraged.  Closing the door on burning bush opens the door to an array of bright-leafed plants, from fothergilla to viburnum.  Your bushes may not burn this year, but your horizons have expanded.