TREE TALK | What’s in a name?

Bear with me: I need to go back to high school, early 1960s, for a moment.

Kandi Koons: Cheerleader, homecoming queen, A+ student, a smile and a kind word for everyone.

Cecil Wort: Head of debate team, National Honor Society, volunteered to run errands and drive elderly around town, Eagle Scout.

OK, so what do these two have in common with flowering crabapples? Simple: Their names don’t match their individual greatness. In fact, upon first hearing the name, you may have vague doubts about their value. 

Crabapple? Does that appeal to anyone? But walk down the sidewalks of our floriferous neighborhood this month. On parking strips or tucked up on the side of an entry garden, you’re likely to see a glowering crabapple in its enormous and vivid blooming splendor. And like getting to know Kandi or Cecil, once you’ve seen one in action, the quirky name takes on a positive shine.

From North America, Europe and Asia, the members of this genus (Malus) are sold as three-season plants. Spring is over-the-top with masses of single, semi-double or double blossoms in clusters in shades of white, pink, rose and rosy-red. They perfume gardens with a musky-sweet scent. Most crabapples flower before the foliage unfurls. 

In summer, these sturdy, little trees, which normally top out at about 25 feet, produce shade and visually cooling greenery. And then come robust crops of small apples that measure 3/4 to 2 inches in width, usually in red, sometimes yellow. 

In our climate the fruit often stays on the trees after the fall leaf drop and well into winter. Pick the fruits, and you can pickle or candy them to serve with roasted meats or bake them as a dessert, make jams and jellies or use them fresh as a gourmet garnish. 

Flowering crabapples are not known for their autumn color — ergo, the one of the four seasons for which they don’t stand out.

Caring for crabapples

In years past, crabapples were known to be susceptible to powdery mildew, scab and cedar-apple rust, especially in the Pacific Northwest, where winters are mild, summers cool and rain abundant. 

But hybridizers have come up with many new varieties that are reliably disease-resistant. Garden catalogs and well-informed nursery workers can direct you to the best named varieties for the color and blossom form you want to grow.

Flowering crabapples are longer-lived than glowering cherries, don’t produce the huge roots that run long distances over the ground surface, are more tolerant of wet soil and are hardier, too. 

They require minimal pruning: Simply to shape the tree, remove suckers and the occasional errant branch. 

And like fruiting apples, they grow old gracefully, a lifetime garden investment. Gnarled old plants are often as beautiful in their dotage as young, vigorous trees. 

In general, give flowering crabapples rich, quick-draining soil in a sunny spot. For the first two summers after planting, you should water them deeply if we have a run of scorching days. After that, they should do well with what nature gives them. 

See that there is a lawn-free planting circle around the trunk of the tree. Nick a young trunk with a lawn mower and you risk exposing the plant to disease through the wound. Gardeners often grow a circle of shade-loving groundcovers around the trunks. 

So what’s in a name? Kandi Apple, Cecil Apple, Bowers of Paradise, Crabapple?

It matters not. That which you call a crabapple by any other name will be as beautiful. And once you have one, your garden will never be the same.

STEVE LORTON, a Madison Park resident, is former Northwest Bureau chief for Sunset Magazine.