A Little Voodoo Plant Magic

Last year I told the tale of a peculiar new plant in my post Under the Spell of the Voodoo Plant. If you are unfamiliar with Amorphophallus konjac, you may want to read that post first. This post is to provide an update on what has been happening with the plant since then.

The voodoo lily settled into the new talavera pot I provided and grew well through last summer. Eventually, as fall progressed toward winter, the leaves turned yellow and died, just as I expected. I had to decide whether to leave the bulbs buried in the dirt or whether to dig them up. I didn't want to leave the talavera pot out through the frosts, and I probably could have left the bulbs in the pot when I brought it inside. 

But I decided to dig the bulbs because I wanted to see what they looked like. I was shocked. I had seen photos of mature bulbs, giant globes nearly a foot across. I knew my plant was young, but I had no idea how tiny the bulbs would be. One was little larger than an almond, the other one even smaller.

I brushed loose dirt off the bulbs and placed them in a small paper sack, labeled  so I wouldn't forget them. I put the sack on a shelf in my pantry and left them there through the winter. As spring approached I occasionally took a peek at them. They looked dead. I had read that voodoo bulbs don't need soil or even water to flower and will begin growth in spring, even if stored inside. Since my bulbs are so small, I don't expect them to flower for several years yet, but I was looking for some signs of life before planting them again.

Finally, in April I found a small bump on the largest one. Life! Soon the smaller one had signs of growth, too. I replanted them in the talavera pot and put them in a shady spot in the front garden. 

Nothing happened. By late May I was worried my voodoo lily was dead, after all. Then I remembered that this plant flowers first, then, after the efflorescence dies, sends up a stalk with leaves on top. Because mine wasn't flowering yet, I guessed it was just waiting for the appropriate time to start growing. 

At last in June I saw shoots poking through the earth. I kept them watered well and applied a tomato fertilizer every other week. Here are the results:Each stalk is topped with one large, divided leaf. They remind me of tomato plants.Here's another view. Note the snakeskin pattern to the stalks.

Wait! Take a closer look at that last photo. There is now a third shoot! I read that each bulb produces only one stalk. Could it be one of my tiny bulbs is producing two stalks, or that somehow I now have three bulbs?  I think my plant has performed a little voodoo magic!

And even more importantly, to me and my neighbors and possibly the police, does this mean I will have THREE flowers when they bloom? How lucky could I be? 

You may also enjoy A Southern Garden Party, which is where it all began.

Arborvitae Fern: An Evergreen Beauty

Selaginella braunii is known as arborvitae fern, but it's not a fern. It's also called spike moss, but it's not a moss, either.The only thing I knew about it when I bought it last year was that it was a deeply discounted, dried-up plant. However, the nursery owner assured me was still alive and would be beautiful. I had my doubts, but at a couple of dollars each, I was willing to try.

I bought six of them. I planted three under a large Japanese maple in the front garden, the other three closer to the house beneath some azaleas. The ones close to the house are watered often, as they are a few feet from the water faucet. The other three get watered when it rains. One under the maple died, but the other two survived, though they are growing slowly.

Now this plant has stolen my heart. Yesterday I was strolling around my garden, examining plants to see what winter has wrought and looking for signs of spring. The colors of the arborvitae fern caught my attention. While some fronds remain green, others have taken on silvery bronze colors. I love the effect.

Since last year I have learned a lot about my arborvitae fern. This plant is a lycopod, an ancient relative of plants seen in fossils. The free online dictionary defines a lycopod as a primitive evergreen moss-like plant with spores in club shaped strobiles. The small club shaped cones give the plant another name: club moss.

A native of China, Selaginella braunii will grow in zones 6-9, in shade to partial shade. It needs moist, humus-rich and well-drained soil. A lovely plant for a container, it likes humidity and also makes a good plant for a terrarium. It grows up to a foot high and will spread to about two feet. Eventually clumps will form, and it can serve as a ground cover, eliminating weeds. This is why I originally bought mine, though I will have to wait a few years for that to happen. Little roots form along the stems, and it is easy to propagate the plant by division. They grow relatively slowly, and I don't want to divide mine yet; so I am thinking about buying more. I plan to put several down in the woodland garden, where they will complement the hosta, azaleas, and ferns already growing there. I will fertilize my plants in early spring with an all purpose, slow-release fertilizer, and I promise to keep them - all of them - well watered.