Possumhaw Surprise

When we bought our property, there was a section of woods that was like an enchanted forest—but more Hansell and Gretel spooky forest than Beatrix Potter happy woodland. It was a tangle of invasive plants like Chinese privet (Ligustrum sinense), wild rose (Rosa multiflora), and eleagnus (Elaeagnus angustifolia), as well as broken trees and downed branches from an ice storm years before. We cut, pulled, stacked, composted, and made firewood from the waste plants. We’ve been watching for the last decade to see what native plants will take their place.

Several small trees have flourished in the open woods. They have nondescript 1”-2” long leaves with tiny teeth on the edges. It took a while, but I finally figured out it was one of our deciduous hollies called Possumhaw (Ilex decidua). Reaching a max height of about 20’, it is an excellent native plant to bring into the landscape. As the name indicates, it is deciduous, losing its leaves in winter. This allows the brilliant red berries to really shine.

The generous crops of shiny red berries are prized by wildlife (and native plant lovers). Each spring I would check the head-high plants for flowers to see if maybe this was the year the plants would be mature enough to produce berries. And yes, like animals, plants have to reach a level of maturity before they are reproductive. For some plants like annuals, maturity, in the form of flowers, occurs the first year. Biennials require two years. Long-lived plants may take far longer.

This spring there were flowers on the couple of possumhaws I checked. I was delighted, but unfortunately, no berries formed at the blossom sights. Where were the bees? I wondered. Loafing? Absent? Did they not find the trees? I was bummed, but as gardeners tend to be, I was ever hopeful for a better outcome next season. I turned around to search the woods for more interesting sights and was gobsmacked by another possumhaw. This one was absolutely loaded with red berries. In a kind of palm-to-the-forehead moment, I remembered: hollies are dioecious, (di-o-ee-shus), meaning they have separate male and female plants. The trees that I checked regularly were both male. But nearby, there were two female plants capable of producing fruits. Loads of fruit. I might have done a little happy dance right there in the woods, but no one was watching, so I’ll never admit it.

I once wondered why animals leave certain berries and fruits on trees when they are obviously ripe. It was another palm-to-the-forehead moment when it occurred to me that critters need food throughout the winter, so fruits and seeds that hold their freshness are saved until needed. Wild cherries subject to spoilage disappear fast. Holly berries, rose hips, and dry seeds are consumed over time.

In pondering the odd name possumhaw, I wondered about the origin of the word ‘haw,’ also found in hawthorne. It goes back to the Old English word for hedge or fence. It makes sense because, in the U.K., hedges were used as livestock fencing. Plants were managed in a way to make them impenetrable. Ina practice called hedgelaying, stems were partially cut through and pushed over in a tangle. Then, new shoots sprouted near the cuts, making the fence even thicker.

As for the possum part of the name, opossums, as well as other mammals and birds, feed on the berries. How possums won out over raccoonhaw or songbirdhaw will remain a mystery lost to time.