A Time to Persevere

Hot and sticky today with forecasts of more to come, and it's time to retreat from the garden. The grasshoppers, the white flies, the molds and fungus will thrive, while I neglect my duties in favor of air conditioning and icy drinks. 

Our summer will test the mettle of both plant and gardener, and the weak ones die or go dormant. I make quick forays in the mornings and evenings, yanking a few weeds and checking on the status of my tomatoes and green beans. I hastily tour other parts of the garden. It's green and lush, but on closer inspection I find leaves that are wilted and pitted with tiny holes. Something has been chomping on the foliage, leaving jagged edges. Weeds are sensing my flagging efforts and are putting on a new offensive, determined to take my paths. I won't let them. I will get them with the hoe this Saturday morning. Early.

Normally, people in my part of the country visit the Gulf this time of year. It is part of our culture. In the summer — and other times, too, if we can get away — we go to the beach. Now a great sadness has descended, and we wonder if the oil has reached our favorite spot. I heard that it has come upon Orange Beach. I am glad I spent a few days at Orange Beach earlier this year, before the greatest oil leak in history began its deadly flow into the Gulf. I sigh when I look back at my photos. It seems that summer has no redemption this year.

But I am an optimist. Gardening has shown me the resilience of the earth, and it has demonstrated resurrection and new life. It has taught me to take up my trowel and persevere, for there will be joy in the morning. 

Enough with gloom! Here is what is happening in my garden, today:

Trees are prospering, invigorated by the deep, soaking rains we experienced all spring.

The woodland garden is a quiet retreat.

Hydrangeas are still beautiful.

And a few other flowers bloom, too.top: Caryopteris ( blue mist spirea). Clockwise from above: Asclepsias (butterfly weed); Crepe myrtle; Gardenia; Speedwell

May you never lose hope. May you have courage, and may you have eyes to see things that are beautiful and good.

Happy summer!  Deborah 

A Gardenia For Me

I was never a gardenia fan, for two reasons.

First, I was impressed by my mother's sad story of her own mother's funeral. She was six years old and had never seen a dead person. Her mother was in the casket, her small stillborn baby at her side. Gardenias filled the room, and their heavy scent mingled with the tears and oppressive heat of that day.

"I can't stand the smell of gardenias," my mother often said. "They make me sick to my stomach."

So I never bought a gardenia, out of respect for my mother.

Second, gardenias have a reputation for dramatically dropping dead without cause. So I wasn't interested in planting a gardenia. There are too many other plants to choose from with better reviews.

Then one day my neighbor Betty gave me a cutting from her own healthy specimen, which grew and bloomed reliably every year. I didn't want to offend her, so I took the cutting and put it in a jar of water, thinking I would do my duty until it died. The plant responded by quickly sprouting roots. Okay. Now I had to plant it. I put it at the sunny edge of the woodland garden, a place my mother was unlikely to visit when she came to my house. I didn't expect much from it, and it would not grieve me when it passed away.

That was less than a decade ago, and now my gardenia is about eight feet tall and wide. It has glossy green leaves and lovely white flowers, and the single shrub fills the woodland with its sweet aroma when it blooms every year. I have decided not to be burdened with my mother's memories, and I look forward to the wonderful olfactory experience each June.

Gardenias are also known by the common name 'Cape Jasmine.' They are as southern as iced tea, screened porches and lightning bugs. They like heat and high humidity and will grow in full sun to partial shade. They shouldn't be planted near the foundation of a house or next to a concrete walk, as lime can leach into the soil and harm these acid-loving plants. Ideally, they should get about one inch of rain each week. Gardenias like well-drained, moist soil, and it's a good idea to put an organic mulch at the base to conserve moisture. I use pine straw, which also helps to acidify the soil. I deadhead my shrub after blooming, because this will encourage more flower production. I also don't like the look of the aging flowers, which turn an ugly brown and cling to the branches.

The key to a happy gardenia is to plant it in the right environment. I think it is hard to create the perfect climate artificially, and this probably accounts for its finicky reputation. A stressed gardenia is prone to disease and poor growth.

Don't think, however, that yellow leaves necessarily mean the plant is sick. Gardenias don't loose their leaves during winter and are considered evergreen. But as spring turns toward summer, up to a third of the old leaves will turn bright yellow before they fall. The yellow leaves of my gardenia are aging leaves, about to fall.If newer leaves, near the end of branches, turn yellow, that is another matter. Yellowing of new leaves may mean an iron deficiency, disease or root problems. Mealy bugs and white flies also sometimes attack gardenias. A horticultural oil or insecticidal soap will take care of them. 

I did not love my gardenia from the beginning, but the little cutting my neighbor gave me has won my heart. I now know why this plant has endeared generations of southerners, and I am happy to have one thriving in my garden.