Crimson Flag

Family: Iridaceae (Iris family)
Genus: Schizostylis
Species: coccinea Backhouse & Harvey

Last month I reflected on the berry-bearing capacity of Viburnum davidii. (And yes, it’s been mentioned that those are “drupes” and not, strictly speaking, “berries.”) The impetus for this column, the last of the year, is serendipity, which gardeners enjoy on a regular basis. In fact, many of us might be quick to point out that serendipitous discoveries are among the most delightful benefits of gardening. We’ve all had those aha! moments—”Look what the first frost did to my bergenia!” or “Who knew the leadwort I planted under the Japanese maple would bring out its color so well?” or “I don’t remember planting that, but it turned out to be perfect!”

A funny thing happened on the way to the Christmas cactus. In my December columns I try always to bring in a holiday theme. This year I was planning to feature Schlumbergera x buckleyi, but with some trepidation. Why? Quite simply: I can’t grow this plant. Whether it comes from a garden center or a friend gives me a cutting, I can’t keep the thing alive, much less persuade it to produce any blossoms. Some Christmas cactus I’ve had keel over within hours. Others expire slowly, agonizingly—at least for me. I stand and I watch and I suffer as the plant gradually wilts into a shapeless mass.

But for you, dear friends, I was going to put down my pride, describe the growing conditions Christmas cactus are reputed to need, and admit I have absolutely no successful experience to share. I headed to the Sunset Western Garden Book to make sure I could spell “Schlumbergera” correctly. And what did I spy? The genus entry in the book just before Schlumbergera is Schizostylis. This caught my eye right away, because at the Master Gardener Advanced Training in September, I was asked if I could identify this plant. Nope, I couldn’t—although I guessed Watsonia and I’ve since found the two are quite closely related—but someone else standing next to me could: Schizostylis, they said. Aren’t Master Gardeners wonderful? None of us has to know everything but it seems to me that together, we know it all!

Now, Schizostylis is a plant I can relate to, and one I even think I could grow. It’s lovely, much like a small gladiolus, but more delicate; and it blooms from late summer well into fall, depending on the variety. You can have blossoms from September to December, though the foliage may look a tad ratty by now. It turns out that some gardeners in the Pacific Northwest count on a stem or two to grace their holiday tables, marking the glorious place where we live. We can’t count on snow, Ann Lovejoy points out; but we can celebrate the beauty at hand in December in our relatively mild, maritime climate.

Some of you may know this plant by the name Kaffir lily. This common name is disappearing, and none too fast. It has quite a negative connotation that’s obscure here but widely recognized in other parts of the world. So we choose now to call it crimson flag. It is a member of the Iris family, after all.

Schizostylis grows from rhizomes and can spread rapidly, if it finds a place to its liking. Where would that be? It’s reported hardy by several sources to USDA zone 5. Others say it won’t survive temperatures below 25º—although we know for sure it grows in our county. One stand I’m aware of is in the shade, when the books say Schizostylis needs sun. What everyone agrees on, absolutely, is that it must have good drainage or it will die. Its native habitat is sandy riversides in South Africa, where it was discovered in the 19th century by two plant explorers—Backhouse & Harvey—whose story is fascinating all on its own. Their names stand with the word coccinea to identify the one species in the genus. There are, at last count, about 40 cultivars developed by plant breeders around the world. There’s an ‘Oregon Sunset’ and a ‘Viscount Byng’, just to give a hint of the range.

My theory about why Schizostylis isn’t grown more widely here has to do with the characteristic climate of its native home. This plant is programmed to thrive where the winters are dry and the summers are wet, the reverse of what it finds here. So perhaps people in our region, discouraged by its performance, have lost interest in buying it. My suggestion? Think again. Give it a try. Plant a few varieties of Schizostylis in your garden next spring and see what happens next fall. It’s inexpensive; we know it can thrive here; and it’s a beautiful and most welcome addition to the late season garden. I think those attributes, plus the starry shapes and bright colors of its flowers, make Schizostylis just too good to pass up. And if it survives for only one bloom cycle? Try growing it in containers. That way you can provide the growing conditions it needs to thrive.

Your reward? A sense of accomplishment, plus a spot of homegrown color in your holiday bouquet next year. As for this year, I hope you’ll accept my best wishes for a joyous holiday season and a peaceful new year.

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