Snowberry

Symphoricarpos albus
Family: Caprifoliaceae
(Honeysuckle family)
Genus: Symphoricarpos
Species: albus

Picture courtesy of Oregon State University Landscape Plant Database

SnowberryI catch my inspiration for this column wherever I can, and this month it was no challenge at all. In February I declared that for a few months, at least, I would feature mid-sized shrubs suitable for Pacific Northwest home landscapes. Regular readers are aware of my preference for ease of care and my commitment to “right plant, right place.” I try to incorporate native plants whenever possible. So I experienced a possibly oxymoronic no-brainer inspiration when I looked out my window this first day of spring and saw ten inches of snow on the ground.

Past plants-of-the-month for April have included plants that actually bloom about now. But this year, the selection has been made based solely on a name: snowberry, a North American native that you’ve all seen growing wild along the roadsides in town and in the county. There is one species of the genus Symphoricarpos that’s native to China, but the other ten hail from our very own continent. Since I don’t know if it’s snowing in northern Asia at this moment, I think I’ll stick to the species that’s native here. The Symphoricarpos that’s found from Alaska to California, the Pacific slope variety, is S. albus var. laevigatus. Its Atlantic cousin is Symphoricarpos albus var. albus, but since I also don’t know if it’s snowing in Maine, I’ll keep this close to home.

Since almost nothing has leafed out yet this year, it’s still easy to spot the characteristic white berries of this brushy, free-form shrub that ranges from three to six feet in height. It’s used to growing under Douglas firs, where it’s most sparse, to open rangelands, where it’s less so. It has a habit that can’t be harnessed, rather like an unruly perm or a cowlick with a mind of its own. You won’t be able to transform it into a tidy specimen. Place it where you can enjoy its hazy, open effect; its interesting and variable leaves-of quite different forms on the same plant, from large on new growth to small on older branches, with either smooth or serrated edges and sometimes both, branch to branch. Appreciate its racemes of bell-shaped, pinkish flowers, faintly fragrant, in May and June; and of course the bumper crop of iridescent white berries all winter. Birds don’t seem to eat them and deer look down their long noses at the pretty white clusters; but hungry cattle and sheep and grizzly bears and moose go after them with gusto. I know that moose and grizzlies aren’t found in Whatcom County-but then it doesn’t usually snow in spring around here, either. You never know…and even if you’re not in the habit of raising moose food, remember that birds appreciate the cover provided by Symphoricarpos albus.

This shrub grows well with little care, in light shade or in full sun, in acid or alkaline soil. Its one disadvantage in the home garden is a propensity to develop powdery mildew in the late summer. This might be encouraged by proximity to other cultivated ornamentals, since the wild snowberries growing happily at roadside seem never to show leaves mottled with this oh-so-common fungus.

There are named hybrids and species other than S. albus available that feature more compact form, flowers of deeper pink, berries with greater iridescence or different coloring. But the common snowberry is the one that comes to my mind today. It’s been here for a very long time. Lewis and Clark took specimens of it home to Thomas Jefferson, who shared cuttings and his affection for “Snow-berry” in letters to friends, most notably Madame La Comtesse de Tesse in 1813. European plant breeders took to it immediately, and S. albus still has a devoted following there. But since I don’t know if it’s snowing in Europe, either, I’ll simply appreciate this attractive shrub with its berries still held on branches today, now buried in this unlikely snow of spring.