Katherine Darrow

When Europeans first colonized North America, they brought familiar plants from their homelands for food, fiber, medicine and ornament. One of those plants was English holly, which was considered essential for celebrating Christmas. Today, holly is one of many ornamental species that have become naturalized in forests and other wild lands near human settlements. 

Our cultural connections to holly are ancient. In northern Europe, people have celebrated the winter solstice for thousands of years by decorating with evergreen boughs of many different plants, but holly was considered one of the most significant and magical types of greenery. Branches were exchanged as symbols of health, happiness and good will. In ancient Rome, holly trees were planted near homes and garlands decorated doorways to protect people from evil spirits. In Celtic and Druidic cultures, cutting down a holly tree was believed to bring bad luck. When pagan festivals in Europe were replaced by Christian holidays, the spiny-leaved holly was often used to represent the crown of thorns that Jesus wore at his crucifixion and the bright red berries, his blood. 

Today’s land managers in the Pacific Northwest are more concerned about holly from an ecological perspective. Kelly Dodson of Far Reaches Farm sums up English holly’s superpowers well: “Damned thing will grow in sun or shade, moist or dry and suckers freely if cutback, so is an ideal colonizer.” 

Because of these pioneering traits, many land stewards believe that holly could overwhelm native plant communities. 

This month I was invited to participate in three different work parties focused on removing English holly in local forests. 

I joined one group of weed warriors whose mission was to seek and destroy holly on state-owned land along Jacob Miller Road. 

Armed with saws, pruning shears, weed wrenches and mattocks, we courted demons of bad luck by cutting down numerous holly trees and shrubs that had been thriving in the shade of the Douglas fir forest for decades. Being a bit superstitious, I chose not to wield the saw, and even brought home a big bouquet of stems to guard our home from those same demons.

While pulling up unwanted holly in the forest, we exposed a vast network of roots and stems that are likely impossible to remove entirely, even if we could find them all. This set my mind to wondering, how did they get here in the first place? And why this particular species?

Around the world, there are more than 480 species of holly (Ilex spp.) in the wild. My personal favorite is yerba mate (Ilex paraguariensis), the source of leaves harvested to make a stimulating tea that is the national beverage of Argentina. China is home to more than 200 species of holly. In Europe and Britain however, English holly (Ilex aquifolium) is the only native species, named for its sharp-pointed or aquiline leaves. In North America there are
17 native hollies, with the greatest diversity in the southeastern U.S. The most widespread of those is American Holly (Ilex opaca), which ranges north to Massachusetts and west to Texas. But west of Texas there are no native hollies. 

Since 1890, Washington has been known as the Evergreen State, recognized for the diversity and abundance of native evergreen trees and shrubs that grow here. 

But back in 1927, a campaign to make Washington the Holly State was led by Lillian McEwan, who founded the Washington State Society for the Conservation of Wild Flowers and Tree Planting. Never mind that there were no holly species native to the Pacific Northwest. Instead, propagating and planting English holly was encouraged. Over a span of a decade, the Tree Planting Society recruited thousands of people, most notably school children, to beautify the city of Seattle and its forest parks with holly.

To the credit of Mrs. McEwan’s enterprise, the society was partly motivated by the desire to protect some of the native evergreens in Washington’s forests that were being ravaged by uncontrolled wild harvesting at the time, including huckleberry, Oregon grape and salal. Creating a market for holly could alleviate the demand on natives while also boosting the local economy. This strategy proved to be a huge success. Holly production became a lucrative enterprise in Washington and Oregon, with more than 200 farms started in Washington alone during the mid-1900s, according to reports from the society. The Northwest Holly Growers Association was formed, promoting a multi-million-dollar international market. This includes holly wood, known for its fine grain that polishes to lustrous white and commonly used for carving, turning, and inlay to decorate items ranging from pens to bagpipes.

Here in Port Townsend, holly probably made its debut in the 1880s during the Victorian era when wealthy landowners first graced their estates with exotic trees and shrubs. Dozens of grand old hollies that were planted early in the 1900s can be admired all around Fort Worden’s parade grounds as well as in Uptown neighborhoods. 

Later, in 1945, the Kircher family acquired two city blocks next to their home at the corner of Jefferson and Scott Streets and planted hundreds of trees with ambition to create a profitable holly farm. Although the business did not flourish, many of the trees still do, providing abundant food and shelter for birds and other wildlife, including insects that collect pollen and nectar from the tiny white flowers. 

An unintended consequence of ornamental and commercial planting is that holly has now spread into lowland forests. Holly is dispersed not only by humans, but also by birds that eat the berries and then leave seeds in their droppings. It can also produce new plants via root suckers and branch layering.  

English holly is now recognized as a naturalized species in the Pacific Northwest. Although the Washington State Noxious Weed Control Board does not label holly as an invasive plant, it has been placed on the Monitor List along with other popular ornamentals such as European mountain ash, periwinkle, and Norway maple. Because holly has such deep cultural traditions associated with it, and still has an important role in the regional economy, lawmakers are reticent to enforce restrictions to curtail its spread. Fortunately, most cultivars in trade today do not colonize so easily. 

You can satisfy some of your holiday decorating needs and contribute to forest health at the same time by gathering boughs of holly in publicly owned forests. However, please do not collect on private land, and respect homeowners’ desires to enjoy the magical and enduring beauty of holly in their landscaping. 

(Katherine Darrow writes for The Leader as a representative of the Olympic Peninsula Chapter of Washington Native Plant Society. Learn more at www.wnps.org.)