Fabiana imbricata f. violacea blooming in the Arboretum in summer. (Photo by Cynthia Welte)
BY CYNTHIA WELTE
As a horticulturist, I have been studying plants for a long time—especially how to grow and care for them. And, although I’m not a botanist or taxonomist, I’m very curious about the names and scientific classification of plants.
One of my favorite things ab out the Arboretum is that, every time I visit, I almost always meet plant species that I’ve never encountered before. I love that moment of “Oh, hello, who are you?” I look closely at flowers, touch leaves, and examine stems. Often that’s followed by a spark of recognition when I detect a family resemblance. And when I guess a plant family or genus correctly, it’s like I’m being high-fived by the plants around me. I feel like quite the plant detective!
That spark doesn’t always happen, of course, and I don’t usually take it personally. The joy of working with plants is that you can learn something new about them every day and barely make a dent. As Thomas Jefferson wrote in a letter in 1811, “Tho’ an old man, I am but a young gardener.”
I will say, however, that sometimes a plant gets under my skin a bit. It’s one thing to approach a new plant with curiosity; it’s another to feel like you’ve figured the plant out only to be proved completely wrong.
Such was the case with Fabiana imbricata.
The Arboretum’s lone specimen grows in the future Chile Forest area along the Loop Trail. (Photo by Niall Dunne)
An Enigmatic Nightshade
I first came upon this shrub last summer, while preparing for a tour of the Pacific Connections Garden. (One of my jobs is leading free public tours of the Arboretum for the UW Botanic Gardens.) In a bed next to the Loop Trail in the future Chile Forest area was a shrub that looked very much like tree heather, Erica arborea, which is an evergreen plant from the Mediterranean Basin with small, needle-like foliage and tiny white-to-purple, bell-shaped flowers.
The loose, sprawling mystery plant had similar small, fragrant flowers among very small leaves. From a few paces back, I was sure it was in the Ericaceae, or heath/heather family. Looking closer at the flowers, however, I realized this wasn’t like any heather I was familiar with. So I set about finding the plant’s collection tag, which was hanging on one of the branches, and it informed me that the species was Fabiana imbricata f. violacea.
After a little light research on my phone, I learned that not only is this plant not related to heather, it’s actually a member of the Solanaceae, or nightshade family, which includes tomatoes, potatoes, peppers and eggplant. This is when my curiosity turned to astonishment. I had to admit: The plant had gotten the better of me.
Ecology and Ethnobotany
One common name for Fabiana imbricata is “false heath”—so, I guess I’m not the only one who has made this mistake!
Native to Chile and parts of Argentina, the shrub grows up to eight feet tall and wide and produces long, wispy stems with ascend-ing branches covered in small, imbricate (overlapping) leaves. The flowers are lightly fragrant, bell-shaped tubes that flare just at the tip, giving the impression of being slightly rolled back. On the straight species, the flowers are typically white; the form we grow at the Arboretum, violacea, has pale-purple flowers. The flowers develop into dry, un-tomato-like capsules containing a few rounded seeds.
Close-up of the heath-like foliage. (Photo by Niall Dunne)
The genus Fabiana contains about 25 species. mostly native to temperate regions in South America. Like all plants from the nightshade family, they contain alkaloids that can be toxic. However, Fabiana also belongs to the petunia subfamily, which tends to be somewhat less toxic than its relatives and have more medicinal applications.
Such is the case with Fabiana imbricata, or pichi, as it’s called in its home region. In Patagonia, which includes parts of both Chile and Argentina, the plant is used in infusions and medicines to treat a host of ailments in both humans and livestock. The plant’s aromatic essential oil is also used to make cosmetics and perfume, and recent research is looking into the potential for Fabriana imbricata extracts to repel plant pests and combat pathogenic microorganisms present in food.
In its native range, Fabiana imbricata is found in a variety of environments, including lush rainforests; open, sunny hillsides; and dry, rocky slopes. It does not need fertile soil and has adaptations that make it tolerant of fire. This fire resistance can help it outcompete other plants in wildfire-prone habitats, such as grasslands.
Growing in the Northwest Garden
For all its adaptability in the wilds of Chile and Argentina, Fabiana isn’t particularly well suited to the Pacific Northwest. I have met a couple of people who have grown it with marginal success in Seattle. Local plant collector and horticultural writer Daniel Sparler had it in his garden near Seward Park. He says, “To grow them successfully in our portion of the Pacific Northwest, the gardener must plant them in poor, lean soil with nearly perfect winter drainage, and provide all the sunlight one can muster for them.”
That can be tough to achieve here. Daniel had two specimens, and they grew fast—probably because the soil was too fertile—but became “rangy and scraggly” rather quickly. Eventually his plants succumbed to cold.
In the Arboretum, we’ve installed Fabiana imbricata on three different occasions with plants purchased through Xera Plants in Portland, Oregon. We’ve lost two specimens, one to heat or drought in summer, and the other to cold in winter—both losses were likely because the plants weren’t fully established. One specimen remains, however, and it appears to be thriving! It is located just north of the Gateway to Chile Garden, close to where the Loop Trail intersects with a level gravel path. It grows among a clump of Blechnum chilense, a bold fern with leathery leaves that contrasts nicely against the fine foliage of Fabiana. Flowers appear in June and July and have a fresh, herbal scent. In other seasons, you can test your identification skills by asking yourself whether you’re looking at a heath or heather—or something entirely different. ❦
Cynthia Welte is the grounds manager at the Seattle Chinese Garden. She also leads tours at the Arboretum for UW Botanic Gardens and teaches horticulture at Edmonds College.
Subscribe to Our Bulletin Magazine!
This article is reprinted from the summer 2026 issue of the Arboretum Bulletin, our quarterly botanical and horticultural magazine. Published since 1937, the Bulletin is a benefit of Arboretum Foundation membership and features in-depth articles on the Arboretum collections and history, as well as general information of interest to plant lovers in the Pacific Northwest and beyond. Join/subscribe today.
