by Rene Tubilleja
Have you ever seen a two-foot orange tree, planted in a tray or dish, and actually bearing cute, thumb-sized oranges? At first, you may have thought it was just a finely-made plastic model. But as you touched the rough, woody texture of its trunk and smelled that unmistakable lemony scent of the leaves, you knew it was "for real."
These small "wonders" are called bonsai. Bonsai is an ancient art of dwarfing trees, first developed in China about a thousand years ago, and soon after, introduced in Japan. The Japanese loved it, developed it to further perfection, and gave us its present name, meaning "tree in a tray".
Professionally-made bonsai usually cost a lot of money. But quite surprisingly, they are inexpensive to make and the process is really very simple. All it takes is just a little knowledge and love of plants.
Planting a bonsai is almost the same as repotting an ordinary house plant. The only difference is that your bonsai must be made to look like a mature tree and be planted in a shallow dish. Choose a plant, then, that has a woody trunk - a shrub or a young tree - which has been grown in a pot for about a year. Boxwoods and azaleas seem best-suited for this purpose. They are woody and tend to have an abundance of branches that could be trimmed to look like a little tree. More importantly, boxwoods and azaleas are readily available in most plant stores or nurseries and they cost very little (about $7 or less).
If you have been keeping plants in the house already, you may also have a clay drain dish under one of your pots. (Not the plastic ones, please). Choose one that is about seven to eight inches wide and approximately one and a half inches deep. (If you don't have one, they are inexpensive, and sold in any plant store or supermarket.) This will serve as your bonsai pot. Make a drain hole at the bottom of the dish by repeatedly tapping the tip of a pointed knife on one spot. For best results, don't jab the knife too forcefully. Put just enough weight on the knife to chip off a little piece each time. When a hole finally breaks through, enlarge it to the size of a dime by turning the point of the knife inside the hole.
Close your eyes and imagine a tree. Then trim some leaves and branches off your plant to make it look like that image of a tree in your mind. Be sure to create a recognizable trunk (at least two inches long) by cutting off some of the lower branches. Remove the plant from its original pot. You will notice that the soil is held together by the roots in the form of the old pot. With a sharp knife, slice off the bottom portion of this root-soil mass so that only about two inches of it is left. Put the plant in the dish and press the soil farthest from the trunk to make it fit snugly into the dish. Add soil, if necessary. Water the plant until it starts to seep out through the drain hole.
With all the cutting and pruning done on it, this plant has just gone through very serious "major surgery". It must, therefore, undergo a period of intensive care treatment in order to heal. Place the newly-planted dish inside a clear plastic bag, and seal the opening so that the moisture is kept within. Keep the bag in a shaded, but not dark, spot for about five days.
When it is time to open the bag, at the end of the prescribed healing period, you will be delighted to see fresh, light-green shoots beginning to sprout. You've made it. You now have a bonsai - a thing of exotic beauty and wonder, something to cherish.
Display your bonsai with pride. Care for it just as you would your other plants. Let it bask in plenty of sunshine; never let it go dry. From time to time, trim its branches to maintain your picture of a tree. Occasionally, you may also pinch or massage the trunk and mature branches. This results in wrinkles and gnarls that give the tree an added look of great age.
You will experience a special satisfaction watching your bonsai mature. It is a kind of mystic joy, a profound peacefulness, that this ancient art of bonsai is known to offer its creators. No wonder bonsai is still here, even after all those thousand years...
© 1988 Rene Tubilleja