Sumacs are a really interesting bunch of plants. Depending which ones we're talking about, they can be a vine, a low shrub, a tall shrub, a small tree, or a large grove of smaller trees.

Members of this local plant syndicate include the infamous poison sumac, toxic poison ivy, and the more approachable members such as staghorn, smooth, shining and fragrant sumac.

Let's start with my favorite. Staghorn Sumac - Rhus typhina - is a stellar plant for larger places. It can be tree-like, but it thinks it's a shrub...just a really big one. You'll find Staghorn Sumac along highways, in open areas where little else will grow, and along the woodland edge. On several occasions I've seen it trained as a single stem tree surrounded by lawn. It sends up suckers a couple times a year, but it's nothing regular mowing can't handle.

Depending on the particular ecotype, I've seen them as a 4' tall spreading colony to a 20' tall single stem tree. Usually they land somewhere in between, in the 10-12 foot range as a spreading colony.

Its flowers aren't much of anything, but the large tropical-looking pinnate leaves are unique among shrubs in our area. The true-beauty of this plant is the fall color - which is unrivaled amongst our flora except maybe by Sugar Maple, J.N. Strain Musclewood, and perhaps Chokeberry. Staghorn Sumacs are indifferent to soil conditions except that they don't like very wet sites.

The coarse structure of Staghorn Sumac is interesting in winter; tall barren stems topped with dark red clusters of fuzzy berry-like seeds in a rough cone shape. They are not relished by birds, but it seems they serve as a desperate late winter fare, as they usually seem to get picked over a few months after the snow falls.

A variation of all of the above descriptions is the Smooth Sumac - Rhus glabra - which is a lot like Staghorn, but grows with a hairless stem. Similarly, Shining Sumac - Rhus copallina - is generally a bit smaller in most regards. Its leaves have a widened rib in between the leaflets - which makes you wonder why the leaves decided to be pinnate in the first place.

Fragrant Sumac - Rhus aromatica - is a bit different from its brethren. It's a finer textured plant, with smaller branches and smaller leaves that fit closer to the true shrub idea. This little brother is scrappy and can take a beating, able to withstand sandy areas, limestone ledges, rocky outcrops and Wal-Mart parking lots (most parking lots employ the ubiquitous dwarf cultivar "Gro-Low"). They are drought, salt, insect, deer, rabbit and generally death-resistant plants. Left to their own devices, Fragrant Sumacs can become quite large - I've seen specimens approaching 15' in height or more, but they love a good hedging and can be brought to a civilized scale with once a year maintenance.

Common Ninebark has some pretty sophisticated cousins. Some are regally bedecked in rich burgundy, with bright flowering flourishes. Some come gilded with a golden hue denoting fine breeding. Others yet come in diminutive stature with all the fine textures of King Louis XIV's robe. I think one is even named after a queen....or in honor of one. 'Amber Jubilee'? Whatever.

But as the rich and powerful stroll on by in their Proven Winners pots and their Monrovia air of superiority* - there is a plain black pot behind them, unadorned and unadvertised. It doesn't come branded and no royalties are paid, nor does it have a 6"x4" glossy colored stick tag....no fanfare. This is the Common Ninebark.

It's got a lot of really nice attributes that can qualify it for some yards...but not all of them. Here at Johnson's - we propagate from plants native to the region - which I think makes them special. In early summer they flower fairly prolifically in white bunches, much like a spirea. These are followed by reddish seed heads that are a welcome addition to the late summer garden. In winter there is a little interest in the bark on the older canes - long strips of exfoliating bark reveal a couple different reddish browns and tans. I've never counted how many colors, but this is what the plant is named for. Birds use these strips for building nests.

So, it's no queen or king of the garden, just a poor shrub from a poor family...but Common Ninebark reminds me of a great buddy you've gone drinking with before. A buddy whose vigor for life, tenacity, and steadfast view on politics make him just as important (or more so) than any royal.

*In full disclosure, Johnson's Nursery sells stock from both of these fine and powerful breeders, and in no way means to cause offense to their colorful cousins of Common Ninebark*