A Minor Obsession

By Eilene Lyon

It all started with a song, “Goodbye Sun Valley,” by a short-lived British group called The Colourfield. It was included on their 1987 album, “Deception.” I call it my birthday song, partly because of the first five words; partly because it’s about self-redemption, something I ponder, particularly on my birthday.

The second verse begins with, “I passed the monkey puzzle tree…” For decades, I didn’t give it much thought, but as my botanical skills and interest grew, that monkey puzzle tree gnawed. Could it be a real thing, I wondered? Hello, Google! It is indeed genuine, but I had never seen one. I just loved the very idea of a tree called “monkey puzzle.” What a great name!

Sometime in the last decade, I finally spotted my first monkey puzzle tree (Araucaria araucana), probably in Europe. I wasn’t able to stop and get a photo—or didn’t think of it at the time. That was also the last sighting, until our recent trip to Europe when I spied my second one. Again, I wasn’t able to get a picture, because we were on a group bike ride in suburban Belgium. Had to keep up the others. Bummer.

On our last full day in Europe before heading home, we took a trip up the Thames River from Westminster to Kew Gardens. We had several hours to explore the gardens and conservatories (aka Glasshouses). As we strolled through the 326-acre (132-hectare) Royal Botanical Gardens, I observed a couple trees with signs saying they were Remarkable Trees. There was a QR code for a map of all the Remarkable Trees, but I didn’t snap on that. I kept my eye out for another one, but no luck.

Shortly after 4 p.m., we needed to return to our tour boat on the river. I tried looking up the Kew Gardens monkey puzzle tree online without success. Then comes The Putterer to the rescue! He noticed a Kew employee walking past as we headed back to the entry gate. He asked her if she knew where a monkey puzzle tree might be—she thought a moment and directed us to a place just about a hundred yards away!

And there was our magnificent specimen:

The tree is native to Argentina and Chile, and was introduced to Great Britain in 1795. It is an evergreen known for its razor-blade-like leaves. It’s a dioecious species: male cones and female cones grow on separate trees. The Kew tree we observed had female cones.

The legend goes that a barrister in the 19th century, Charles Austin, declared that those sharp leaves provided “a puzzle for even a monkey to climb,”  giving the tree its common name. The trees lose their lower branches when they mature at around 100 years, giving it a lollipop appearance. It’s unlikely that a monkey would be climbing one even then.

Feature image: A scene at Kew Gardens. Probably won’t be any monkeys climbing on that sculpture, either!