Chapter V: Buds

How we watch for the buds as tokens of the coming spring! We delight to see them daily growing larger, and opening out their leafy treasures to the sun.

The re-clothing of the trees has always an element of wonder about it; the change is truly a resurrection; a few days of warm sunshine and gentle rain, and then the dry, dead-looking branches begin to bud and blossom as if by a miracle.

We may, however, trace the secret of this sudden change, if we look back to the processes Nature was carrying on during the previous summer, and we may learn from her many a useful lesson of foresight and preparation.

If during the summer we lift up the branch of any deciduous tree and search amongst the leaves, we shall find that the buds for the following year are already there, waiting to be developed in due time. When the leaves turn dry and sere, they fall off and leave the buds to be hardened and matured by the rain, snow, and frost of winter.

Certain species of Turkey oak, young beeches, hornbeams in hedges, and other trees, appear to retain their leaves, to some extent, as if to protect the buds until the rising sap in spring loosens their hold upon the branches, and makes them fall off.

The plane-tree appears to be an exception to most trees in the curious protection it affords its young buds. If we search for these in the summer or autumn, they are not to be found, for the leaf-stalk is so swollen and hollow at the base as to enclose the bud within it; even when the leaf falls off, the bud is covered by a tough outer case coated with resin, and within are many fur-lined scales. When these are removed we see the tiny leaves wrapped in silky coverings, and when the warmth of spring enables them to expand, their under surfaces have such a thick coat of down that the plane is known in some countries as the cotton-tree. From its fruit being in the form of hanging circular balls, its name in America is the button-wood. The need of this special protection against cold is shown by the fact that if severe frost returns after the leaves have expanded, they frequently shrivel and perish. Some Japanese maples have the same arrangement of hollow leaf-stalks to contain the buds.

When buds are situated at the end of a branch they are called terminal, and their office is to increase the length of the branch.

When they grow in the axil of a leaf (that is, where the leaf-stalk joins the stem) then they are called axillary, and as they grow out and form fresh stems and leaves, the branch broadens on either side.

Seeing that the branches of a tree thus spring from the buds, it follows that the position and development of the buds upon the stem, as we tried to show in the last chapter, have much to do with the ultimate shape of the tree. The development of the axil buds, as well as of the terminal bud, gives rise to a branched tree like the oak; these buds, however, are often erratic, and in some trees the terminal bud of the shoot is often suppressed and the axil buds grow with extra vigour, whilst in other instances the terminal bud grows strongly and the axil buds either grow feebly or are altogether suppressed. In the bamboos, palms, and sugar-cane we get good examples of this terminal bud-growth, the axillary buds being suppressed; the suckers that grow from the axils of the lower leaves of the palm are often evidence of the presence of axillary buds, although they are, as a rule, dormant. We are all more or less familiar with the character of ordinary forest trees, the rounded outline of the oak, the slender sprays of the birch, the spreading branches of the beech, but perhaps we may not have remarked how much these variations of form are due to the position of the buds upon the branches. We will suppose that on a winter’s day we are looking at the tracery of some elm-branches against the sky; the form of each branch shows that the terminal bud in this tree usually ceases to grow, and allows the lateral shoots to increase in length, and take its place; this produces short, twiggy branches, and a stem which makes a tall tree rather than a wide-spreading one. The horse-chestnut, again, produces its flowers in the terminal buds; this arrests their growth, and side shoots have to grow on instead, thus usually giving height rather than breadth to the tree. We may note the differing outline of the willow, birch, and many others where the terminal buds do not cease to grow, but each year continue to add to the breadth as well as the height of the tree.

In pine-trees the buds are produced at the ends of the branches, and several shoots proceed from one bud.

The spiral arrangement of leaves is well seen in a young coniferous shoot, also in the flower-bud, and especially in the fir-cone itself, in which an ever-varying double spiral can be traced.

Loudon remarks, “The perfection of a fir consists in height rather than in lateral expansion; buds are produced very sparingly and nearly always at the extremities of the shoots. Provision is thus made for the upward growth of the tree more than for side expansion.”

When we speak of a coniferous shrub having lost its leader, we mean that the terminal bud on the topmost shoot having been broken off, one or more of the lower branches must rise up and take its place, and thus lateral buds in time become terminal and grow upright instead of sideways.

A silver fir, that I have been observing for years past, bears such a crop of heavy cones on its slender upper branches that the leader is almost invariably broken off by the weight, and the lateral shoots have to take its place, to the great detriment of the central stem, which is twisted and curved out of shape by the efforts the tree makes to repair its terminal shoot.

In other trees, again, the unfolding of all the buds is nearly simultaneous, but in the fir tribe the bud which terminates the summit of the tree and is destined to form its leading shoot and increase its height is developed last; this delay seems a provision of nature for the safety of the most important shoot which the tree can produce, ensuring its height rather than its breadth, and the production of timber by the preservation of its permanent trunk rather than by its temporary branches.

If a willow is deprived of the upper part of its stem and so made a pollard tree, it develops a bushy head of small stems which spring from the other buds thrown out to repair the loss of the central stem. This pollarding is often resorted to in order to obtain wood of the right kind for basket-making, and young ash trees are thus treated, so that slender rods suitable for hop-poles and tool-handles may spring from the lopped stem.

When buds are found growing on any other part of a plant except those just mentioned, they are called adventitious buds. These may be found growing on the edges of the leaves of the marsh tway-blade; they also spring out of the flat surface of the fronds of the viviparous fern.

Under favourable conditions every part of a plant will produce buds, and, taking advantage of this fact, florists increase their stock of succulent plants by putting the leaves on a wet surface, which induces them quickly to send out buds and roots. Such plants as begonias, gloxinias, hoyas, and sedums are readily increased by this mode of propagation. Underground stems will often send out buds, and they produce the underwood from the stumps of fallen trees.

We are all familiar with the suckers of trees which spring up in our lawns and gravel paths often many yards away from the parent tree; these all arise from active buds on underground stems. Gardeners are always careful to prune away such growths at the base of their wall-fruit-trees, since they rob their valuable peaches, nectarines, and apricots of strength and nourishment. These well-named “suckers” spring from the common stock upon which the choice fruit-trees were grafted, as one may see by gathering a leaf from a sucker and comparing it with a peach or nectarine leaf.

On the oak, chestnut, lime, beech, and other trees there are sometimes to be found dormant buds in the form of rounded knobs covered with bark and increasing in size with the growth of the tree; these, in the event of other buds perishing, will start into active growth and do their part in preserving the life of the tree.

Such woody balls when found on the oak are worth examination, as when divested of their bark they show exquisite structure of woody fibre.

The small bulbils we find in the axils of lily stems, on the cuckoo-flower, on _Dentaria bulbifera_, and on some species of Allium, are all adventitious buds, which drop off in due time and become young plants.

They are in many respects similar to bulbs, and if we cut one in half and compare it with a divided hyacinth we shall see that they both consist of over-lapping scales. In the onion these scales are fleshy and succulent, but in most tree buds they are dry, hard membranes.

The pear and magnolia buds are secured against wintry cold by woolly linings to the scales, and in the horse-chestnut they are covered with a kind of resin which renders them impervious to moisture.

It requires a careful use of the microscope to trace all that a bud contains; I will therefore quote the words of a German naturalist who dissected a horse-chestnut bud gathered in winter, and found that it contained sixty flowers. It would be interesting to select a terminal flower-bud of this tree; by taking it carefully to pieces one might, with patience and using a powerful lens (or a microscope if one is available), see for ourselves a good deal of what the writer describes:—

“Having removed the outer scales, seventeen in number, cemented together by a gummy substance to render the bud waterproof, I discovered four leaves surrounding a spike of flowers, so clearly visible when magnified that I not only counted the number of flowers, but could discern the pollen on the stamens.”

The winter covering of a bud, both the inner and outer scales, are only a temporary protection in order to keep out moisture and keep in warmth, so that as the sun begins to gain power, the gummy covering of the bud melts and yields to the expanding pressure from within, when one after another the sticky scales fall off, showing the young leaves with their soft woolly surfaces; these leaves rapidly unfold and hang droopingly until the midribs gain strength enough to hold them upright.

Evelyn remarked that, “As soon as the leading shoot of the horse-chestnut has come out of the bud, it continues to grow so fast as to be able to form its whole summer’s shoot, sometimes eighteen inches long, in about three weeks. After this it grows but little more in length, only thickens, becomes strong and woody, and forms the buds for next year’s shoot.”

Buds have always been to me a most interesting subject of study; there is much variety of character in them, and to those who observe them closely they reveal in the autumn and winter what the tree is purposing to do in the following season.

A beech-tree on my lawn bears its nuts only every second or third summer, and in the previous autumn I can always tell whether the squirrels are likely to be well off for food in the coming year, by observing the size and shape of the buds. Those which contain the flowers are round and bulky, whilst the leaf-buds are long and slender.

Embryo flowers are disposed in the buds in different ways. The woodsorrel is rolled into a spiral, rose-petals are placed one within the other, the pink is folded in five divisions, and others are pleated and fluted into the smallest possible space. Perhaps of all others the bud of the great Oriental poppy is the best example of exquisite packing. Early on a summer’s morning you may see its huge green hairy bud at the end of a stem several feet in length, and whilst you are looking the sepals or calyx leaves suddenly divide and fall off, the mass of vivid scarlet petals crumpled into a thousand folds begins to open out, and before long the glorious flower, which is often as much as seven inches across, holds itself erect in majestic beauty.

Those who possess a tulip-tree will find its opening buds reward examination. The leaves are folded in half and bent double, a pair of leaf-scales enclosing each of the true leaves. One may unpack the entire bud until we come to leaves almost too minute to be discerned.

Young sycamore-trees often have buds of large size and brilliant crimson colour; the foldings of their leaves are very intricate, and form an interesting contrast to those of the tulip-tree. Hart’s-tongue fern, arum, and pear leaves afford three very remarkable modes of folding in the bud.

Another point of character in buds is of considerable importance to the horticulturist, namely, the fact that in some cases the value of the flowers produced varies with the position of the buds. For instance, the blossoms produced from the crownbud[13] of certain chrysanthemums are poor and pale in colour compared with those grown on the side shoots; the latter are therefore retained and fostered, so that from them flowers of the finest description may be obtained.

[13] The uppermost bud of the central shoot.

In cultivating fruit-trees it is found needful not only to prune away redundant branches which bear leaves only, but also where strong woody roots are promoting the growth of leaf-buds, they also have to be pruned, so that the check thus given to the growth of the tree may result in the formation of fibrous roots, which will tend to the production of flower-buds and a resulting crop of fruit.

I have often observed that the transplantation of trees leads to their throwing out flowers in the succeeding year. This was notably the case with an avenue of deodars which had overgrown my carriage drive; they received a considerable check in being transplanted, but in the following year their branches were covered with male catkins and some few cones succeeded.

For this reason the removal of fruit-trees is not unfrequently resorted to, as a means of inducing fruit-bearing.

So much vigour is stored up in the bud, that it will bear being removed from one tree and inserted in the stem of another, within which it will grow and become a part of the living tree. This is one of the means by which we have obtained such an infinite variety of roses; the buds from choice species being readily made to grow upon strong briar stocks, and thus one may also see roses of several different colours blossoming on the same stem. Choice varieties of fruit-trees are cultivated in the same way by means of buds inserted in the bark.

Having observed how flowers are arranged in the bud, we may go on to dissect incipient leaves and learn how they are placed.[14] We shall find that the frond of the hart’s-tongue fern is rolled up from the tip, the arum gracefully curved lengthwise. Pear leaves are rolled from side to side towards the middle, and so is the primrose, but the reverse way. Beautiful examples of curled leaves may also be seen in the water-lily and banana.

[14] Venation.

In grasses the first leaves are equivalent to budscales, and protect those which continue to grow from the centre, each one sheathing out of the previous leaf after the manner of monocotyledons.[15]

[15] One seed leaf plants.

The colouring of buds is one of the lovely features of spring. Seen against the blue of the sky, the coral red of the lime, sycamore, and Japanese maple buds, cannot be passed by without notice. The whitebeam has a beauty of its own for its buds are large and white with downy coverings, giving promise of the future leaves which are so light-coloured underneath, that the effect when they are blown aside by the wind is curious and beautiful. The Germans call it _mehl-baum_ or meal-tree, from its whitish downy leaves.

The variegated vine, sometimes seen in greenhouses, has exquisite buds of pinkish crimson, with bright yellow stipules. By way of contrast, I once placed some sprays of it in a glass with twigs of purple hazel which are of a deep claret brown; they were not only opposite in colour, but curiously different in habit, the vine holding its bud erect, and the hazel as persistently drooping. These variations lead me again to remark that, to a close observer, buds will be found to differ much in character and to be well worthy of close attention.

I will mention some trees whose buds are specially remarkable for beauty of form whilst unfolding. The mountain ash has very graceful leaves when just emerging from the bud; they show on their upper and under surfaces two distinct shades of green.

The unfolding weigelia buds are extremely pretty in shape, the leaves being pointed and delicately curled.

I need hardly mention the beech; nothing can be more exquisite than a spray of its opening buds with their silky fringed young leaves and crimson leaf-scales. I look forward every spring to the joy of watching the unfolding of these caskets.

A warm shower or two and some sunny days cause them to expand with a rapidity which seems magical, and one almost regrets to find the beauty of the buds in their early stages so quickly passing away. The ash attracts notice by its jet-black buds, and the wayfaring tree by the delicate venation of its young leaves.

I cannot refrain from mentioning another beautiful effect arising from young buds in the case of a _Picea nobilis glauca_, which long name simply means a sea-green silver-fir, standing on our lawn. In the summer its terminal buds are a very pale sea-green, and as they grow and are seen against the dark green of the rest of the foliage the effect is very curious, as though each branch had become tipped with frosted silver.

The soft silky buds of the willow, and especially those of the low growing sallow which are gathered as “palm” for church decoration, are amongst the welcome signs of early spring. The sallow has its male blossoms on one tree, but not far away we shall find the female tree bearing the flowers which will eventually produce the seeds. We may therefore seek for three kinds of buds, those which produce the flowers on each tree, and the others which will clothe the tree with leaves when the blossoms are over.

This chapter shows us how much there is to instruct the student of nature during the winter as well as the summer months.

I have but indicated a very few out of the many lines of study which may be taken up; one could write essay after essay upon the growth of a single hedgerow, but all I can hope to do in simple chapters of this kind is to throw out hints and indications, and trust that my young readers may find their interest sufficiently excited by what they have read, to lead them on to fuller, deeper study of each point touched upon.

Nature is an inexhaustible storehouse of wonders, and the further we explore, the more our eyes are opened to see the vistas that lie before us, branching out in various directions.

This special path of botanical study is one that, more or less, can be pursued at intervals, as opportunity may offer through life, and as it adds much pleasure to leisure hours, I specially commend it to my young readers.

Specimens to be obtained and compared with the descriptions in this chapter:—Search for buds in summer; plane-tree buds; Japanese maples; terminal and axillary buds; observe shape and outline of trees; buds of coniferous trees; fir cone; fir-tree that has lost its leading shoot; pollard willow, and other trees, buds on marsh tway-blade, and viviparous fern; buds on underground stems; suckers from wall-fruit trees; dormant buds or knobs on tree-stems; bulbils on lily, dentaria and allium; horse-chestnut terminal bud; observe leading shoot of horse-chestnut in early summer; flower and leaf buds on beech; various flower-buds; Oriental poppy; tulip-tree buds; various leaf-buds unfolding; colouring of Japanese maple, lime, and sycamore buds; whitebeam; variegated vine; purple hazel; mountain ash; spray of beech buds; ash buds; _Picea nobilis glauca_; willow and sallow, male and female flower buds and leaf buds; bamboo.

CHAPTER VI

_FLOWERS_

“Your voiceless lips, O flowers, are living preachers;
Each cup a pulpit, every leaf a book
Supplying to the fancy numerous teachers
From loneliest nook.”

+Horace Smith.+