Not Really Rhododendrons: Mountain Laurel (Kalmia Latifolia)

Well, we took a look at the three biggies of the Appalachian Rhododendrons this week.  The funny thing is, however, there is another plant that, while not a Rhododendron in any way, shape, or form (other than also being a member of the heath family), they compete with them rather well on their home turf in terms of sheer loveliness. 

Somewhere along the Blue Ridge Parkway.  This specimen was so lovely that I actually did a Blue Ridge "no-no" and stopped traffic to take a picture of it and sigh over its gracefulness for a few seconds.  People honked, but then they each did the same thing behind me.  The sun filtered through the canopy so perfectly on this one glorious tree that I figured it just had to be arranged as such by Divine Providence.

Mountain Laurels grow in association with the Rhododendrons, where they expect similar conditions of fickleness in terms of soil acidity, just the right shares of sunlight and shade, and handle practically growing right out of a pile of rocks with the same ease as any of member of the heath family.  The funny thing is, they are a heath plant, but are closer related to blueberries than Rhododendrons.  They are evergreen, and they could definitely qualify as a small tree; their branches are curled, twisting, and numerous, forming an under-canopy cage of sorts just like the Catawbas.  Their leaves tend to look more like, well, a blueberry's, but much larger in scale.

Blue Ridge Parkway, near some sort of overlook.  This one had seen better days, but was still growing strong from some of its branches.

They are fairly common throughout much of all but the far northern Appalachians, and even grow as far south as the Mississippi gulf coast.  This means they can handle lower, steamy southern elevations, even while they seem at home up to the 5,000 foot mark.  They seemed to be most common between 4,000 and 5,000 feet.  I did not see as many Mountain Laurels as I saw Rosebays or even Catawbas, but when I did come across them, they were hard to miss.  I have never seen a single one in cultivation, although apparently many people grow them.  It seems that the Master Gardener keeps them mostly for himself, which is probably for the best, because nearly every one I have come across is a masterpiece when left in its own setting.

Words fail to describe more of this lovely thing, so I will let the rest of the non-Rhododendrons do the talking.  I never did manage to get a close up of the leaves or the flowers, in most cases because they were actually a bit inaccessible, being off some dangerous looking outcropping too far up or down to get safely close.

This was also off the Blue Ridge Parkway, hiding behind what a Table Mountain Pine (Pinus Pungens).

These last three are of the same glorious plant growing off of Newfound Gap Road in Great Smokey Mountains National Park on the Tennessee side.  This plant illustrates how thoroughly the blooms overtake the body of the tree.