Provenance

In a guest lecture I recently presented for a plant propagation class, I was explaining the importance of provenance in graft compatibility within certain species like red buds. Sometimes, even though the plant is the same, it's origin makes all the difference in the world. There are issues that arise when trying to graft a red bud from the southeastern U.S. with a red bud from Oklahoma. It makes sense when you look at the climate and soil in either of those locations: they are remarkably distinct, and it makes sense that the red bud would adapt and evolve to the conditions it's been dealt.

In trying to explain provenance to the class, I looked over and saw one of the students that works for me. Adelle is from the island of Granada. She has a beautiful smile and the most mellifluous speaking voice. In the months from October through May, she is bundled in long pants and sweaters. Now being a good, southern garden girl, I don't exactly sport the shorts and flip flops until it's at least 75F, but Adelle will be in full-on winter layers until it's at least 72F. The high temperatures in Granada hover around 84F and the lows at 75F. Year. Round. Adelle's provenance makes her a little sensitive to a climate outside of that zone of paradise. Welcome to Texas. 

Adelle sowing seeds from peppers her mom sent.

Adelle is generous in sharing her provenance with us. She shares delicacies that her mother makes, seeds from trees that would want to layer up in sweaters here too, and gifts that reflect the culture of her home. And then there's the rum punch. I'm entirely convinced that rum punch is served for breakfast, lunch and dinner on Granada. I just might have to go check that out.

Today, Adelle's surprise mailed from home, was a bag of peppers that looked like habañeros. Um...thanks, I think. In reality they are Granada seasoning peppers. A mild-mannered version of the scotch bonnet, these peppers have an intense, fruity flavor with hints of citrus and pineapple. They are infused throughout  Granadian cuisine, and just happen to represent the colors of their flag when in varying stages of maturity. She cleaned and then sowed the seeds; I can't wait to grow them here!

Mild-mannered Granadian Seasoning Peppers

That's the thing about gardeners. Regardless of your own provenance, you still maintain a remarkable passion for the plants you may only visit or be introduced to from a friend from a foreign land. Native plants should remain the staples in our gardens, but isn't it fun to try something that comes straight from paradise?

Sure you can find these seeds for sale on the internet, but the plants I grow in the future will have a story. And they will have a connection to a young lady, who just briefly, layered on a few sweaters, braved our Gulf Coast winters and put the island of Granada on my bucket list.

Real Estate in the Garden

As much as I love plants, I do descriminate.  It's not that my biophilia is lacking, it's that my real estate is.  By today's neighborhood standards, our just over half-acre lot could be considered expansive - I'm so grateful that we don't butt up to our neighbors - but for the Southern Garden Girl, every inch counts!  And even though we intend to take out nearly every bit of lawn, I really want the garden space we create to work hard.

I wish I could be satisfied with big sweeps of the same plant; I truly do value repetition in the scope of garden design.  It's just that there are too many cool plants to invest a lot of space in only a few.  And mind you I don't expect plants to bloom 12 months out of the year; I simply think they should earn their space in my real estate.  

THE GOOD: I sit in my backyard writing this and looking at many of the good guys.  Alternanthera dentata 'Little Ruby' is a perennially favorite annual of mine with compact, plum-purple foliage.  It echoes the velvety purple flowers on my Salvia splendens 'Ablazin' Purple.'  The latter of which is a much improved selection that has bloomed since I planted it in early spring.  Salvia splendens usually gives up around the first of July.  November happens in 3 days.  

I'm watching a delicate bumble bee ballet on the Agastache 'Blue Fortune' and enjoying how the Brazilian button bush (Centratherum rubrum) pulls my eye to an excalmation of 'Senorita Rosalita' cleome both of which have bloomed non-stop since spring.  

I did say that I don't require blooms lasting all 12 months.  I love my giant 'Super Nova' angel's trumpet that only flushes it's fragrant flowers when I go out of town - without fail.  I can't do without the night blooming jasmine that erupts into fragrant blossom just when I need it.  I will always love coneflowers even though I don't seem to have the right touch with them.  And that crazy-giant milkweed, Calotropis gigantea, who is quite a grinch when it comes to flowers, but more than makes up for it in architectural awesomeness.  

THE BAD: Ugh. I really don't like bad-mouthing anyone, but what do you do when a plant takes up a good portion of your valuable real estate, and you wait for it... and wait for it... and wait for it.. and... is that all??!!??  Here is what I'm giving up on this year.  Iochroma.  They are spectacularly photographed in close-ups, but what no one wants to tell you is that the blooms are entirely lost in the foliage.  I was hoping that the short days of fall would rectify this, but I'm still under-impressed.

Next is Solanum wendlandii.  I will give this beauty another chance in an assuredly more sunny location, because everything I read indicates five solid months of bloom.  This robust vine has decent foliage texture, but it's nothing to write home about.  The HUGE clusters of light purple flowers would be amazing if I didn't have to beat back the foliage to see them.  Did I mention the spines?  Ouch.  I will try this vine one more time in a full-sun-blazing, no-shade-around situation because I am dying to see what it looks like covered in those lovely flowers.  

Lastly, and perhaps this one is due for a move as well, is the Callicarpa longissima.  This beautyberry's flowers are beyond cool, but are on the small size when the overall size of the shrub is taken into account.  I planted this too close to a Muskogee crape myrtle, and the Callicarpa is giving it a run for it's money!  I'm still a little enamored with this unusual beautyberry, and am grateful that there is a specimen at my work, that has plenty of room, so I can continue to admire and evaluate should I decide to actually give it the axe.  Which I'm leaning towards. 

I always joke that my job is to "kill plants," but in all reality I evaluate them for beauty, usefullness and overall performance.  When real estate is valuable, choose plants that really work for you - in one way or another.  Life is short, and we should enoy every bit of it, AND every inch of it.