Seasonal nostalgia is a prickly topic

’Tis the season of nostalgia, and if there’s one thing that can bring it on for me, it’s a sprig of holly covered in bright red berries.

Holly represents the prickly leaves and the blood spilled by Christ’s crown of thorns, but it was linked to winter traditions that predate Christianity. Around the solstice, sprigs of holly were brought indoors to provide a winter refuge for woodland spirits.

In my U.K. family, it has long been a custom to gather on the Sunday before Christmas for a holly-collecting expedition to a nearby woodland, followed by a visit to the local pub. As far as I know, it was begun by my dad at least 80 years ago, but I like to think it might have stretched back to the Hobson druids.

Living in Canada, I miss participating and to compensate I long ago planted a pair of holly bushes in my garden — a male and a female to ensure there’d be berries. They survived for many years but never really thrived. Holly grows best in full sun or part shade and in moist, slightly acidic soil — precisely the conditions of our U.K. holly wood, but it was nothing like that where I’d planted them in my garden.

They struggled along for about 30 years and in latter years they rarely produced more than a handful of red berries, sometimes none, which was not appreciated by the woodland spirits. I finally gave up on them. It wasn’t easy, but I set nostalgia aside and forced myself to follow one of the basic rules of successful gardening: if something isn’t performing as it should, out it must go.

Meanwhile, I’ll have to buy a sprig or two. They are around, seen at local markets and garden shops; however, the red and green motif of holly has been largely supplanted by the wonderful poinsettia (did I say that?). It’s also a lot easier to mass produce in local greenhouses than it is to grow, harvest, and ship holly across the country from B.C. There’s a huge surplus out there where English holly (Ilex aquifolium) has become invasive species.

At this time of year, however, I miss having them in my garden and find myself thinking I should plant a new pair in a more favourable spot. There are many varieties available; keeping in mind that a male and a female are necessary otherwise there’ll be no red berries, and miserable spirits in your attic. The closer they’re planted the more likely pollination will take place and then the female should be covered in berries. Holly is sometimes sold in a planter may appear to be a single plant, but there are always two, a male and a female.

To make it easier to select one of each, varieties are given names like Blue Prince and Blue Princess or Blue Boy and Blue Girl. These are hybrids known as Meserve holly or blue holly in reference to the glossy, bluish green leaves. The original English holly wasn’t hardy enough to survive beyond zone 7 until Kathleen K. Meserve of St. James, N.Y., crossbred it with a tougher species, Ilex rugosa, back in the 1950s. This

resulted in cultivars that can grow to a couple of metres high and are zone 5 hardy.

Just a note on holly berries. They can cause severe discomfort if eaten so keep them out of the pudding or it won’t be a merry Christmas. And the poinsettia — it’s not poisonous, despite rumours to the contrary, but I wouldn’t eat it.

Have a wonderful Christmas everyone, and may there indeed be peace on earth.

To chat with local gardeners, share tips, pics, or discuss holly, see Grand Gardeners on Facebook at www.facebook.com/groups/Grandgardeners/.