Extraterresterial Gardening

This is a white Turk's Cap, one of my new finds. Turk's Caps only come in lipstick red. It's an old, old, Florida favorite that has fallen completely out of favor. It makes a large bush, but readily accepts lots of pruning and flowers prolifically. It seems to be a hibiscus relative. The flowers look like hibiscus that never opens. That's probably why it fell so completely out of favor. It's very self sufficient, once established needs no care. They're often seen around old homesteads where nothing else remains. That's probably another reason they've fallen out of favor. Although not invasive, once established, they can only be moved or re-moved with a back-hoe.

I love them. So do hummingbirds. They either slip their beaks in between two of the loose petals, or failing that, just drill their beak in through a petal. Kids also love them because when you pick one and slowly pull off the green calyx with its attachments it forces a drop of shinning, tasty nectar out of the base of the flower. Kids eat this. I did it when I was a kid.

As I said, they only come in bright red--until this one. Two years ago a white (barely pink) one was discovered and they've been reproducing them out at Valkaria Gardens near here. It's a private, barely restrained, jungle and only open 4 times a year. We went out for the winter open in the hopes of finding some good plants. They're really different here in this sub-tropical world. I have given up any hope of reproducing my beloved lavender hedges---but I can probably replace them with cardamom hedges!! I did not hope to find any Turks Cap because they are so old fashioned and out of favor. None of the nurseries around here carry them. As we wandered down the jungle path I saw the plant above and asked Carla whether that was what I thought it was. Then noticed that it was growing with a red one. We found the pink ones for sale right away, but it took much more wandering before we found pots of red ones, too. I bought both although the red is younger and not yet blooming. They bloom year 'round! Can't tell you how thrilled I was; I've spent so much time trying to find one. They root fairly easily from slips and I was close to stealing into someones yard and just taking a cutting. I predict that Turk's Cap are going to make a big comeback.

But yesterday, we discovered another treasure. I developed a need for a plant called Rangoon Creeper, Quisqualis Indica. It is a rampant, but not invasive, vine often growing 30' in one season. Blooms hang in clusters of small tubular flowers that start white, change to pink, and finish bright, cherry pink, with all colors visible most of the time. It is also supposed to be highly fragrant, throwing it's scent for hundreds of feet. The scent is described as a combination of mango, coconut, and avocado.

The article only gave one source for it and when I looked them up on the net, they weren't a nursery, but landscapers, and rangoon creeper was not listed among their available plants. Carla called to find out if they had any and if they sell plants or just provide them to their landscaping customers. They invited us out, although it took several days for us to arrange a time when it was convenient to all.

This place, Native Habitat Ethnobotanicals, is unbelievable. Did I say Valkaria Gardens was a barely restrained jungle. NHE seems to have no restraints at all except the occasional use of a machete to keep the small paths open. And nothing in there is familiar. We saw no Ixora (a common Florida bedding shrub), no citrus, and only one hibiscus. The hibiscus was obviously an attempt at a blue cultivar (as rare in hibiscus as in roses). We did see bananas, but none like I've ever seen before. The trunks were so big I don't think I could have reached around them and the banana stalks over 6' long. And several of the small bananas. They had palms planted here and there, but none of the common Lady palms, Royal palms, or Washintonia. They did have the rarest of Palms, the Buccaneer Palm, and a beautiful example of the Triangle Palm, and a gorgeous Bismark Palm (giant blue-green, fan type, fronds and a very, very, short base, they are absolutely arresting).

As we entered the first of the jungle trails I noticed a charming bush, about 6' tall, just frothing with little quarter sized white daily type flowers. Frothing the way whitewater froths down the face of a big wave, the way over poured beer froths down a chilled glass, the way root beer froths when the ice cream hits it. "Smell it" he says. So I do. Before you can smell it, you have to brush away a bee. Every one of the hundreds of blossoms had it's bee. And you have to put your nose right down on it to catch the fragrance. When you do, it smells exactly like cake baking. When I straightened up and looked the plant continued on for a good 50 feet, over some plants, under others, just weaving through others. "Oh," I said, "It's a vine." "No," he says, "It's just a bush."

The two men who own the business were extremely nice, very excited by their work, and quite generous. Every time we made a turning in the path one of them would pick some leaves, crush them, hand them to us and tell us to smell them. We smelled a cinnamon tree, patchouli plants, an allspice bush, and Ylang Ylang flowers, among others.

Carla has been in search of a Ylang Ylang tree for ages and the closest supplier she found is a good 60 miles away. She almost turned cartwheels right there in the path. The flowers have long, twisted, flat, petals of a pale green yellow color, hanging like a giant, dead, spider. Very interesting and not particularly pretty. But the fragrance was (and still is) wonderful. It remains true and strong even after the flower dries. It's what they made Channel #5 out of. Next year I have to have one of those. Carla bought a 1 gallon one, about 4' tall for only $10.00.

Besides crushed leaves and flowers to smell, they gave us each a handful of the Ylang blossoms to take with us, a Passion fruit for each of us, and a small hand of small bananas known as the ice cream banana because of its vanilla flavor. They also threw in a pot full of brown-eyed Susans.

I also found the most unusual gardenia I've ever seen. I didn't even peg it as a gardenia. It was a big, sorta lanky bush. It was full of five petaled flowers with long, tubular, necks. It attracted my attention because some of them were white, some were bright yellow, and some were deep gold. Nothing about it says gardenia, except the fragrance. Oh yes, it is most certainly a gardenia. Another on the wish list for next year.

I did buy a flame bush--sorta looks like a very, very, big deep red salvia. And, of course, the Rangoon Creeper ($5.00). The guys came to start putting the fence in today and I hope they finish soon because the guys told me that the creeper hates (their word) to stay in a pot and I am very anxious to get it on the fence. On the fence far, far, away from the lanai in case the scent is overpowering.

I just love this. Carla and I both fall into the category of gardeners that are basically plantsmen. Some people garden for design, some garden for color, some for food, and then there are those of us that garden just so that we can have certain plants. We fall in love with plants one at a time. No matter how carefully we plan a plot, when we run into one of those "gotta have it" plants, that trumps all plans. Usually, we just don't bother with the plan beyond deciding where we can fit the new find. Well, here in a parallel universe, everything is so different that I'm just spinning with joy. Many, many, "gotta haves" and more just tumbling out from every corner!

Rainbow trees

PLEASE, PLEASE, CLICK ON THE LITTLE RED X to see these amazing trees. They have incredibe trunk colors: chartreuse, purple, yellow, pink, all on the same tree.

I've tried every possible way to upload the images here (and yes, I did get permission from the owners of the website--I'm hardly one to trespass on intellectual property rights) but the best I could do is this blank space with the little red x. Go to http://www.eucalyptusdeglupta.com/ to learn more about them. Trunk colors are displayed in Rainbow Colors 1 or Rainbow Colors 2.. Really, it's unbelievable.


I got Carla a very small one of these for Christmas. They grow fast up to about 75', I think.


I had visions of one for California until I learned more about them. It seems that the vividness and the variations of color are dependant upon water--lots and lots of water. I suppose it could be planted by the creek. But then people would have to take a nature walk to enjoy it. It still might be worth it. I still struggle with the ethics of planting very water hungry plants of any sort in any part of California. Once it was established it would probably survive without additional irrigation, it just wouldn't be very colorful. And even then it would be using water.

I do plan on getting one for here--probably not til next year to plant beside my small pond so that it can have its fill of water even when I'm not here.

Winds of Change

The older I get, the more the weather seems to affect me. Yesterday morning I woke to heavy wind. It was a strong, warm, moist wind with soft texture. It tossed the limbs of the Laurel Oak and tumbled my new grapefruit right over pot an all. I felt invigorated. I wanted to open all the windows and let the wind blow away the musty, the stale, the mundane; to let the house be energized,refreshed, revitalized.



My mother keeps all windows closed, always. She says too much dust blows in otherwise. She has a point. The street is dirt and the two or three cars that pass down it each day do kick up dust if there has been no recent rain. The slider to the covered lanai stays open unless the weather requires either a/c or heat. It is at the back of the house and faces away from the street, so dust is less of a problem.



Nevertheless, I keep my bedroom windows open. My bedroom door stays closed so that the topsy turvy flow does not disturb the staidness of the rest of the house. True, I do have to dust my room about twice as much, but it's absolutely worth it to have the freshness pouring in.



In yesterday's wonderful wind I really, really, wanted to let the whole house in on the pleasure. But, it was not to be. I settled for taking myself out to the lanai and letting the wind blow the musty, the stale, the mundane, out of my own mind; clearing some space for fresh thought, clean attitude, heightened awareness.



The wind was the meeting of warm, moist, air flowing up from the Carribean with lots of clouds and a cold, dry, air blowing in from the Northwest bringing crisp, clear skies. They were having a little roughhouse play. The southern wind was winning for most of the morning. My sister, Debra, came over and feeling the energizing effect as I was, we took off for the beach, some lunch, and some exploring. By the time we got there (about 15 minutes), we had driven out from under the cloud cover into a sparkling afternoon, still warm. By evening the North had won the battle and the skies were clear and temps dropping fast.



About 100 miles from here, just outside Tampa, the roughhouse turned nasty, and the tussle turned into a tornado, leaving a good bit of destruction in its wake.



Yes, as I get older, the weather affects me more. I respond more to the psychological and/or spiritual stirrings of what's happening outside. And what's happening outside seems to be completely driven by weather.

My fire ant story

This is what a fire ant bitten leg looks like 4 days after the event.


I've been harassing my roommates with tales of sitting on the lanai at night in t-shirt, shorts, and bare feet while they endure freezing nights.


It's not all good. We had three days of complete cloud cover, temp-80's, humidity-90's, and low, low, ceiling. If I were as tall as Uncle Joe I could reach up a brush the cloud cover with the tips of my fingers.

It presses down on me. I got what I now refer to as my "low pressure headache". It's not really a headache, just a tightness around the forehead to the base of the skull. Doesn't hurt, but is annoying and distracting. It bears down on me.




However, it's pretty good weather for all my gardening projects. When there is no cover, I work the new bed in the back yard because the sun doesn't hit me till around 11:00. Once that happens I'm through. Sweat pours into my eyes and it's just over for me. This is hard to endure for a girl from central coast California where it never, never, gets hot. In the afternoon, I may work on the bed in the front of the house because now it's shaded.

So the cloud cover is good for gardening. I started a bed 20' x 6' by removing the St. Augustine grass (think highly invasive, runner spreading, Bermuda grass on steroids). I work by sections about 1' x 6'. Outline the section with a shovel, go around a second time using the shovel as a lever to loosen the solid turf roots, divide the section up into 4-6 smaller sections, and then begin pulling the grass out. It's possible, if you do enough shovel-leverage work, to roll up small sections. But, if you do that, a couple of inches of soil goes with it. If you need to save that soil, and I do, you have to rip up handfuls and shake the soil loose. I like to do this sitting cross legged on the ground.

I finished most of the bed, putting in plants and mulching as I went, and picked up my shovel to outline the final 1' x 6' section when I noticed that the upper corner protruded into a humongous fire ant bed. I was born and raised in Florida and know enough to avoid fire ants. So I got out the fire ant poison (I hate to use this stuff, but I had no intention of battling fire ants for that small piece of ground). Sprinkled the stuff around and gave them a couple of days.
When I returned I gingerly prodded the edge of the ant bed and observed no ant activity. Very cautiously I bent over and pulled out a handful of grass and shook it off. Of course I was wearing gloves! No ant activity. Did it a second and a third time, no ant activity. Good, good. Now that little bit is done, I can go to the end and start working my way back up.

I like to sit on the grass that surrounds the bed to do my grass pulling. I pull out a couple of small sections and then move to the side of the bed so that I can stay on the grass instead of sitting in the dirt I have just exposed. Another small section pulled out and I notice I am perilously close to the rest of that large ant bed. So I move to the inside of the planting bed, sit in the bare dirt I had exposed the previous day, and start pulling grass. Only seconds pass and my legs are burning (there's a damned good reason they call them fire ants!) I jump us, get out of the bed, brush them off with my wet, dirty, gloves; leaving dirt smeared all over me. I check carefully but can see no sign of any ant bed. And I still have two more sections to go.

I tell myself that somewhere deep in the Amazon they probably do this to boys for their rite of passage into adulthood. And since I am already an adult, I can endure this and I need to finish the bed. (Remember when I said I had no intention of battling fire ants for this little piece of land? Apparently my intentions were trumped.)

Watching very, very, carefully, I take my shovel and stand where I think they do not have their hidden nest. I'm going to divide my small sections into even smaller sections and pry it out with the shovel. I found no ants in the grass I was removing but every few seconds I would have to stop and brush off a couple more fire ants. Finished the bed, then dug a hole and planted the last plant for that bed, gaining another coupled of bites in the process. By the I had enough of this particular rite of passage took a break.

Got out of the bed, carrying a few more with me, and hosed down my legs. Learned that a jet of water does not dislodge a fire ant. Oh no, it just makes them curl up into a tight ball and hang on harder. Washed my legs, slipped out of my rubber sandals, washed them, went to the lanai for something cool to drink. When I got my tea and settled down 3 or 4 more crept out from somewhere. Those little things hide exceedingly well. Got a couple of bites on my wrists where some had evidently hidden in my gloves when I was wiping them off my legs. Took my sandals off again and inspected them, turned my gloves inside out and inspected them. Fire ants are much smaller than regular red ants and hard to see. I began to worry about whether any had found their way into my shorts and where I could expect the next bite.

Finished the tea and thought I could safely mulch the area. Dragged a bag of eucalyptus mulch (we boycott cypress mulch--more on that later) around and made sure to stay on the concrete block path where I could see the enemy if it were there. I like to spread mulch with my hands (gloved). It just feels good. So I dumped the bag and began to spread, paying more attention to the exposed dirt (the place where little pain givers hide) than to the mulch. At least until I started feeling bites. Looking down I realized that the mulch was alive with thousands of ants. Fortunately, not fire ants. These were red, much bigger, much less aggressive, but still biting me. Apparently the mulch in the bag offered a cozy home and the ants moved in.

Now I really had enough, even though I still needed to put another bag of mulch down around the final plant. Got outta there, leaving shovel, trowel, and empty mulch bag behind, killed a couple more ants, hosed down my legs and sandals one more time and hit the shower (still a little worried about what might be hidden in my shorts).

Yesterday I summoned up the courage to venture back to the area. I needed the tools. I went well around the old fire ant bed, and stepping briskly, put one foot on the exposed dirt that had not yet been mulched in order to reach the concrete block path and in the nano second that it takes a foot to go down then right back up, half a dozen of them got me again. Damn, they're fast as well as sneaky.

Today I lugged out the last of the mulch, opened the bag and observed carefully before proceeding. Apparently ant free. I dumped it and quickly spread it over the danger area, with a shovel--NOT my hands, and left without a single encounter. But, my general plan is to extend that bed several more feel which means wiping out that large fire ant bed altogether. I'm scared.

About fire ant bites:

• at first they feel like any other biting, stinging, insect


• followed almost immediately by intense burning sensation


• burning lasts quite a while--quite a long while


• each bite produces a large, red, welt


• pus pockets form in the middle of each red welt