Our Cotoneaster

It’s only been recently that the cotoneaster along our south fence line has received much attention.  Much positive attention, that is.  I’ve always considered it one of those annoying plants that cause more trouble than it’s worth.  Granted, it is pretty at this time of years when it is loaded with berries.  But, as I see things, it is those pesky berries that cause the major difficulties with that plant.

As is nature’s way, those berries drop everywhere once the fruit-bearing period is over.  By spring, when I finally venture forth to do my winter cleanup in the garden, all those little berries have sprouted.  Or so it seems.  The flowerbed beneath the cotoneaster has a gazillion little cotoneaster shoots, eager to grow up in their mother’s shadow.  I pull them out, one by one, forever wondering why that particular patch of soil is so much to their liking; they don’t seem to sally forth on the other side of the fence where the berries drop in equal profusion.

So, I’ve always considered that particular plant a pain-in-the-tush.  I also had absolutely no idea what it was and I thought of it as a big, annoying bush.  Suddenly (or so it seems) it has reached tree-like proportions and is really quite attractive.  It has come to dominate that portion of the garden and, for the first time ever, people comment upon it frequently.

“It must be very old,” someone told me the other day.  “I’ve never seen one that large.”  I was a little chagrinned that I had no idea how long it had been there.  I know only that I’ve been pulling out those annoying cotoneaster babies for the twelve or fifteen years that Nyel and I have been taking care of the garden.  I have no recollection of whether my father planted it or if it dates from the days of my grandmother’s stewardship.  But, all at once,  it is twenty feet high and probably that wide or more.  Certainly a tree now, not a bush.

On Our Mantle

I did a little research and found that the plant is native to temperate Asia, Europe and North Africa, that there are over 300 species and that it belongs to the rose family and is related to the Hawthorne tree – among other things.  Also, the red berries are said to be ‘highly attractive’ to blackbirds and other thrushes.  And also to me.

At this time of year when there is little in the way of flowers in our yard, I sometimes make an arrangement of the cotoneaster branches.  The berries aren’t as showy as those of the holly tree that grows nearby but, also unlike the holly tree, the cotoneaster branches hang low and are easy to harvest.  They look quietly cheerful in the silver bowl on the library mantle.  And, if the berries do drop onto the carpet they seem unlikely to sprout!