Juneberries!

 Every year in June I enter into a fresh round of negotiations. No, it’s not an annual contract; I am just trying to come to terms with some of my avian colleagues. You see, it is in June that the ripening fruits of serviceberry shrubs turn dusky purple and invite us to partake of the berries, luscious and delicious.

In fact, Juneberry is another common name for serviceberry, as is shadblow.

Robins are among the first birds called to raid my trees; Cedar Waxwings follow soon after. I have two serviceberry trees (shrubs) at my house and in most years they offer up an ample harvest; there’s plenty to share with my avian neighbors. The trouble is that the trees have grown tall enough that I can only reach the lower tiers of fruit, so only a portion of the produce can be harvested by me while the Robins and Waxwings have access to all.

 Ripening Juneberries attract birds (and people).

Ripening Juneberries attract birds (and people).

Serviceberries (Juneberries, shadblow) are woody shrubs or small trees in the genus Amelanchier. There are about 20 species that occur in North America. Authors Gerould Wilhelm and Laura Rericha describe eight species and one hybrid in their 2017 tome, Flora of the Chicago Region. Of the eight species listed, six are presumed to be native to the region. (Neither the nonnative species nor the hybrid cultivar are considered to be invasive here.)

Four serviceberry species have been recorded from Forest Preserves of Winnebago County:  eastern Juneberry (Amelanchier arborea) is listed from Rockford Rotary Forest Preserve; low Juneberry (A. humilis) can be found at Blackhawk Springs and Seward Bluffs; inland serviceberry (A. interior) has been reported from Colored Sands, Sugar River, and Sugar River Alder; Allegheny serviceberry (A. laevis) is at Blackhawk Springs, Kishwaukee Gorge, Severson Dells, and Seward Bluffs.

For a variety of good reasons, serviceberries have become popular landscape plants in both commercial and residential settings. Their bark, smooth and gray, with spiraling dark streaks, offers distinctive winter interest. The leaves are small, oval, and with lightly toothed margins. In April and May, these members of the rose family (Rosaceae) are bedecked in flowers, each bearing five white, strap-like petals, longer than they are wide. The flowers yield abundant fruits, edible berries (actually pomes, fleshy fruits that form from an inferior ovary, i.e., below the other flower parts) that ripen in June. The fall foliage turns richly to tones of apricot and orange with hints of red. Some serviceberries tend toward a tree-like growth form, but attaining a height of only about 25 feet; others, especially those sold in the landscape or nursery trade, are predisposed toward expression as multi-trunked shrubs. Serviceberries are the larval host of Red-spotted Purple butterflies.

  Amelanchier  in autumn splendor

Amelanchier in autumn splendor

The common name of shadblow (or shadbush) comes from the eastern region of the country, where the blooming of shadblow was said to coincide with the running of the shad to spawn in New England rivers. The name serviceberry is said to have derived from the resumption of certain “services” in the spring, whether the performance of marriage ceremonies (wedding services) or the ability to dig graves in newly thawed ground (burial services). Juneberry, of course, refers to the ripening fruit, the cause of my conversing with birds.

My negotiations with the foraging birds goes something like this. I’ll go out to my serviceberries with a small basket to collect the fruit, flushing a few birds out of the trees. The Cedar Waxwings may quickly disperse to regroup out of sight; the Robins squawk in protest as they fly off to the nearby crabapples or perch on the edge of the gutter and eye me with suspicion.

If I approach slowly and quietly, the Waxwings may linger so that I might reason with them. I explain that they are welcome to all the berries at the top of shrubs, while those situated within my reach are reserved for me. The Waxwings are generally agreeable to these terms and seem to show admirable restraint.

The Robins, however, laugh at me. They dismiss me with derision, as if to say, “Hah! What are you going to do about it?” Once I am back inside the house, the Robins are back in the lower branches.

I suppose there’s nothing for it but to plant more serviceberries.