So there I was earlier this week, on the way to see a client in Wellesley, MA, and I passed this huge colorful streetside show:

Trees with colorful flowers? Think about it: How many of them bloom early in the Spring? All those pink cherries. Those pink or yellow magnolias. Rosy-pink "redbuds"? Those lavender paulownias?


And then, the dogwoods come out, and so all the trees thereafter have white flowers only? Stewartia, catalpa, fringe tree, franklinia. Think about it: A tree that blooms later than May and doesn't have white flowers?


Only two, I think: Mimosa (pink blossoms, ugh) and the other one here on that Wellesley streetscape: Goldenrain tree.  Ugh, what a sticky-sweet name, and way too similar to yet another early-Spring yellow-flowered tree (Golden-chain tree, laburnum) plus a climbing rose (Golden Showers).


Let's flip over into the Latin:Kohlreuteria paniculata. Thank you, Mr. Kohlreuter whoever you were. "Paniculata" means that it has big panicles of flowers. Does it ever:

I had never gotten this close to the flowers before—get a load of my grimy man-of-the-earth fingernail!—so I was surprised to see the orange-red flare at the base of the petals.  The pollen is orange-red too—nice coordination!—and the petals are folded back to expose it completely.


Kohlreuterias in my experience are fool-proof as long as they're planted up a slope, even a tiny one.  They lose their confidence if surface water doesn't drain right away.
Sun and heat are welcome, and the trees are drought-proof too.   So tough they can be used as street trees.


We'll take another look at kohreuterias later in the season: As if these unique flowers weren't enough, they mature to colorful inflated pods by August.


In the Fall we'll confirm if the tree gets good Fall foliage.  The branching and bark are very satisfying in the Winter too.  A four-season tree then?  Very possible, and very essential anywhere (Zone 5 - 9) it's hardy.

An unprepossessing opening picture, true.
It was a glorious bright-sunny day, so the interior seems dark dark dark. These are the pair of South-facing windows in our dining room; they're unusually large for an 18th C. house. With such low sills my guess is that they're a 19th C. addition. Whatever: They are a pleasure welcoming the Winter sun as well as the Summer view. I planted all kinds of plants to make that view worthwhile. Here's the show out the lower-left sash.
Boy do I love these plants. We'll look at most of them, and soon. Right now, the gold-leaved Japanese maple.
Yup, that's the color, and all season long: Glowing gold but not over the line into "Jeez, honey, where are my sunglasses?" yellow.

It's a Japanese maple too, mind you, so has that tribe's multi-trunked classy look to the branches and trunks. So yes, it's good even in Winter, when (alas, sniff, sigh) the leaves have fallen. But if we're lucky (I haven't been so far, but I live in faith), the Fall weather is such that just the tips of the leaves turn a cherry Fall red, leaving a round interior of each leaf still gold—hence the "Full Moon" of the common name. The tree is very slow growing, so buy the biggest you can afford. After a couple of decades, it might be only 18 feet tall. It's happy in amazing amounts of shade too; conversely, it handles full sun without scorching only if the soil is rich and it doesn't have to beg for water. I never water mine even though it's on the South side of the house and gets full West sun. So I guess my soil passes the test on both counts.
More on the companion plants later—and soon.