This story is about the mimosa tree and how much I like it, but let me lead up to it gradually. I want you to know why I think it is the flowering tree that has performed best for me.
When I was a boy, the catalpa and black locust were the only flowering trees which received any attention in our state and neither was very satisfactory. As a child, I always enjoyed apple blossom time; and could hardly wait until the 500 apple trees in our orchard burst into bloom. The perfumed loveliness lasted unspoiled for many days, for orchard pests and bad smelling sprays had not reached our region yet.
So, 25 years ago when I decided to set out some flowering trees in the rather extensive yard around my home, I chose the flowering crabapples. Since most of them were advertised as having double blossoms, I reasoned that fruit would be scarce and never a nuisance. Unfortunately, I forgot that all sorts of orchard pests had long since reached our area and that spraying of fruit trees several times a year had become a necessity. Too late to turn back, I ordered several flowering crabapple trees, a flowering cherry, and a flowering peach.
The flowering cherry did not like our climate and soon died. The flowering peach grew and flourished for several years, but in the height of its splendor, curculio and borers declared war upon it. Despite our efforts to save it, removal was necessary. One of the crabapples brought its disease, cedar rust, and in spite of all recommended remedies, it too gave up the ghost. The other crabs were made of sterner stuff and have continued to function. For two or three weeks in the spring, their beauty is breathtaking, but you pay for it. Before the petals open, you must spray. Spray again as the petals fall. If you intend to use the fruit, several more sprays must be applied at intervals.
As if all this were not enough, the trees I happened to select turned out to be prolific fruit bearers. In late summer this makes almost daily raking necessary if you want to stay proud of your lawn and discourage flies.
Magnolia Is Tidy
I am sure you will not blame me, then, for deciding on flowering trees which do not make fruit bearing such a prominent part of their annual routine. I found one such tree in Mfagiiolia soulangeana. This tree seems to be perfectly hardy in this region. Its summer foliage resembles that of its aristocratic relatives. It develops its buds during the summer, and by fall has literally hundreds of them wrapped in warm fur coats that protect them through the winter, even though the temperature falls below zero. But alas! Mother Magnolia gets impatient and cannot wait to display her blossoms.
At the first hint of spring, the little fur coats are unbuttoned and the beautiful blossoms are exposed to the spiteful blasts of winter. What would have been a thing of beauty often becomes a nightmare of ugliness. But because sometimes this does not happen, I shall not dispose of my two magnolias, nor do I care for any more.
Next I tried the native redbud (Cercis canadensis) which in this region becomes a real tree if given half a chance. It, too, blooms before the leaves appear. Its beauty, like that of the magnolia, sometimes is ruined or fails to appear because of delayed cold weather. Last spring the weather was just right and our trees gave us three weeks of real loveliness before a delayed freeze destroyed the blooms.
Also destroyed were the seeds that were starting to form. If they had succeeded in surviving, the black pods would have provided enough ugliness through the winter to cancel the loveliness of early spring. They would also have caused a great deal of extra work in lawn and garden because of the seedlings that spring up everywhere. So, while I shall keep my three redbud trees and enjoy their transient beauty, I do not care for any more.
Perhaps by now you think that nothing in the shape of a flowering tree is likely to please me entirely. Such is not the case. I have a flowering tree that fills my demands very satisfactorily. That tree is the mimosa, or more correctly the Albizzia julibrissin rosea.
This tree, while commonly called mimosa, is said by botanists to be much more closely related to the acacia than to the true mimosas. But since the acacia is related to the mimosa, and since the word mimosa stems from a Greek word meaning “actor” or “mimic,” there is no reason why we should not call it by its common name even though its nearer relatives are acacias rather than the subtropical true mimosas. The tree is an actor, for its lovely fern-like leaves close at night and when it rains. They are also slightly sensitive to touch, though not so much so as the leaves of the common sensitive plant of our meadows, a distant relative, the blossoms of which its blossoms greatly resemble.
Now, why have I chosen the mimosa for my favorite flowering tree? In the first place it would be beautiful as a tree even if its blossoms were lacking. The fern-like leaves give it a distinctive beauty unmatched by any other tree of this region. Then, because of their delicacy and persistency in holding on to the branches, they cause no summer litter on the lawn and need no raking in the fall. Their pink powder-puff blooms are plentiful, and when they fall leave very little litter. The blooming period is extremely long for a flowering tree in the North Temperate zone and lasts from late May or early June into August.
Mimosa Real Weather Sense
Unlike the other trees I have mentioned, the mimosa seems to have a real weather sense. In the first place, it remains absolutely dormant until spring is far enough advanced to rebuff freezing weather. In the second place, it puts on its leafy garments before it decorates them with its flowers. Then, too, its light green leaves come out slowly at first like so many little scouts sensing the weather. When mother Mimosa is assured that everything is all right, she surprises you some morning by being fully clothed in soft light green. In late May or early June, she begins to put on her decorations which consist of a practically unlimited supply of delicate pink flowers which have just a suggestion of perfume. At first these halfspherical beauties are more or less scattered throughout the branches, but as summer advances, their number increases until the tree becomes a marvelous object of pink and green beauty and continues to be so for a period of more than two months.
Remember that I have not said that mimosa, Albizzia julibrissin msfa, is a perfect flowering tree. Such a tree is yet to be found. What I am saying is that the mimosa is the flowering tree which has performed better for me than any other flowering tree I have tried. I wish it made fewer seed pods, but I am glad that its pods keep the color of the tree until late in the fall and leave the tree gradually through the winter.
It is no fault of the tree that we happen to live near the northern border of its possible habitat, but if we wrap it carefully through its first few winters it resists cold weather as successfully as do most of our flowering trees and shrubs and needs no artificial protection. My own trees have taken some zero weather nearly every year for more than 20 years and have suffered no damage whatsoever.
It is usually trees under four years of age that may freeze when they are not properly wrapped. Even then the roots do not freeze and if the stem is cut off level with the ground a new tree will arise and grow faster than the original tree because of its abundant roots. Undoubtedly, the mimosa is another tree gradually going north. Less than 30 years ago it was unknown in this vicinity. Now, it is becoming more popular every year.
While the mimosa grows rapidly from seeds, the purchase of a three or four year old tree is a much quicker way to get enjoyment of its beauty.