An un-be-LEAF-able rhododendron oasis!

Editor’s note: This story originally appeared in our sister publication, Salem Life Magazine.

From the back deck of John and Sally Perkins’ home, the beauty of Canobie Lake extends in every direction. And yet it is the front yard where the lake view is blocked more by the myriad plants than the modest house that entices admirers, especially in springtime.

John and Sally are undoubtedly the most prodigious rhododendron cultivators in the area. They were invited to expand their garden onto their neighbor’s property as well as at Pleasant Street United Methodist Church. But the Perkinses are not your average gardeners, nor are theirs your average rhododendrons.

John and Sally are nationally published cultivators in the Rhododendron and Azalea Societies of America. They’ve published many academic papers using words too hard to pronounce much less spell. For example, they co-authored “Exploring the Ploidy of Hybrid Elepidote Rhododendrons.” The Perkinses can best be described as rhododendron zealots.

They grow, they share, they educate and they cultivate new varieties by increasing the numbers of chromosomes. New types may have such slight visible differences that only botanists can tell them apart.

Sally Perkins’ interest in plants may be in her genes; both her parents were botanists. She began her love of indigenous rhododendrons in Maryland where the plants grew wild by the roadside.

John, a data analyst by trade, is her perfect cohort. He became enthralled with her desire to cultivate new varieties and used his skills to analyze hybridization efforts.

They are members of and contributors to the American Rhododendron Society Massachusetts Chapter and the Azalea Society of America (ASA). And yet, the plants are far more than scientific experiments to them; they exalt in their beauty, even creating poetry in their honor.

“Then May rose up with its broad-leaf psalms, the elepidotes lifting their faces toward whatever light was given. And June followed with its burning choir — azaleas red, yellow, orange — fragrance drifting across the paths until even the still air seemed to bloom,” reads an excerpt from “Garden on Canobie Lake” by John Perkins.

There are over 800 species of rhododendron (which also include azaleas), broken down into four categories: large leaf, small leaf, evergreen and deciduous. Most people recognize the big-blossomed domes of the P.J.M. rhododendron by its pale pink to lavender color. It is among the most popular varieties in Massachusetts. They may not, however, know its name, or that it was developed in Massachusetts by Weston Nurseries in Hopkinton. The Perkinses tend over 1,200 plants and created hybrids that they share with other enthusiasts. But for them, the interest is the foliage more than the flowers.

“The blossoms are here for a couple of weeks, but the leaves provide interest and beauty throughout the year,” explained John.

Sally enthusiastically turned over a dark green leaf to reveal that its underside is rust-colored and fuzzy. The fuzzy layer on the underside of some rhododendron leaves is called indumentum. She noted that some people may think that is a sign of disease, but it is instead a remarkable adaptation that enables the plant to ward off pests, regulate temperature and retain moisture. When the temperature drops below freezing, their leaves curl up and droop to protect themselves. The leaves on small-leaf varieties (lepidotes) shift to shades of deep red, maroon and purple, making the plants more resistant to cold.

There are enormous variations in the plants. The largest species can grow up to 100 feet tall, while the smallest reach anywhere from 4 to 40 inches.

Rhododendrons are revered throughout the world. They are older than the Himalayas and have a history replete with poison, medicine and folklore.

Word of advice: Never eat any part of them. Revel in their beauty along the fence at the United Methodist Church and, if you get the chance, introduce yourself to the Perkinses and ask what type might look best at your house!