Growth vs Decay
A beautiful thing about gardening is the way it connects us to cycles of change, life, and death. Gardens are dynamic places, constantly altered in ways we can and cannot see. As a gardener, it is important to remember this at all times.
One of our first projects as a company was in a yard with a massive stump of a Water Oak tree. The homeowner had mourned the loss of this tree, seeing his shade-loving plants pale in their newly bright home. The size of the stump made it difficult to remove. It was now a fixture in the garden, a large and barren reminder of a different time, a different microclimate.
When I first saw the stump, I was invigorated by the possibilities. The idea of planting new life in and around it was titillating. The bridge between decomposition and growth is a beautiful cornerstone of the horticultural world. My shamelessly angsty inner poet was alighted.
Stump gardens have since become rather popular on social media (or at least in my algorithms), and I thought folks might be interested to read about the process we’ve gone through over the last 10 months in this garden. It was not a perfect process; mistakes were made along the way. It is our hope that reading about our imperfect journey may help others find a less wobbly path to a successful stump garden.
Our first planting day: little pockets of soil to help new babies set roots as the stump continued to feed them through the process of decay.
Our first move was to plant in pockets of soil around the roots and in crevasses of the stump. It was late Fall of 2022, and we wanted to select cool-weather trailing plants that we thought would grow well in the small amount of soil available to them. In this first round, we went with Nasturtiums, Alyssum, and Lysimachia. A note that none of these plants are native to the region, but nasturtiums are a favorite of bees, and have edible leaves and flowers that we absolutely adore. We also sprinkled seeds of a favorite native, Black-Eyed Susans. Our hope was that as the stump continued to turn to soil, the area would soon support more plant life.
When we came back for maintenance, our first clear hurdle was with the Lysimachia. Even in the winter, this neon green climber just did not want to grow in such a sunny yard. On our part, this was a bit of rookie mistake and served as a lesson on adapting aesthetic visions for the ecological reality of each site. The nasturtiums and alyssum, however, flourished beautifully, and the Black-Eyed Susan seeds germinated in several locations. Even just last week, as we went back for a follow up, we saw several alyssum plants that over-summered despite high temperatures and ongoing drought this summer, as well as tiny nasturtium seedlings popping up for a second year!
The eventual goal was to fill the hollow center of the stump with logs and compost and top it off with soil, creating a permaculture-inspired garden that would allow for tall statement plants to grow out of the large dead stump. About six months later, after composting extensively inside the stump, it seemed like it was time to fill ‘er up. Thinking in terms of permaculture principles, we brought some larger logs to lay in a criss-cross pattern as a base. We thought these wood pieces would provide slow decay and work well to keep the soil level up. We then added other layers that would transform to soil more quickly than the logs, like dead leaves.
Our client was hoping to attract Hummingbirds— we planted the stump with Dicliptera, Porterweed, Senna Alata, and a native Duranta which are all great nectar plants.
During this visit, we also swapped out our Nasturtiums for summer-loving annuals. We went with Purslane and Zinnias for the hot, dry weather we were having. These ended up being perfect choices for the record-breaking summer, even though they weren’t natives. Even the pre-existing Aztec Grass melted away in the heat this summer, but these babies survived!
Lots of summer blooms from our purslane and zinnias, even as the Aztec Grass suffered from the heat. Soil pockets around stump became deeper and richer, just as we had hoped!
The rate of decomposition was much more rapid than we first expected. The soil was sinking fast. It was neat to see life/decay forces playing their game in the stump. As the stump itself continued to rot from the inside out, our logs slid down into the abyss below, and the soil layer sank with it. A determined Senna Alata that we had planted as a tiny start was thriving. It was able to grow fast enough up towards the sun, reaching from up two or three feet in a crazy curve to continue growing, but the other plants weren’t able to persevere. We lost our Porterweed, a Dicliptera, and a native Duranta.
It was a stroke of genius from K that saved the day– we were going to bring power tools into the mix! They designed a shelving system using 2” by 1” scraps and a sheet of plywood. We used the scraps to make little teeth around the inside of the stump, placing them in areas that still had the strength to hold a screw. We then cut the plywood into an oval using a Sawzall, so it would sit neatly atop the teeth. We used a piece of plywood with a cut out, which acts as a handle.
The result? A shelf to hold potted plants in the center of the stump. This way, our newly planted babes won’t have to outpace the decay process; they are now supported. We had also enjoyed the convenience of on–site composting immensely, and the new set-up allows us to lift out the plants, remove the shelf, and continue using the center of the stump as a composting receptacle.
Truth be told, the jury is still out on how this new rendering of the Water Oak stump will develop. But the process has been challenging and enriching. Look for updates to this post if you’re curious to keep following the cycles of growth and decay with us.
Rainwater Collection: Past and Present
An exploration of the projected salt water intrusion, with a look at the history of rainwater collection in NOLA.
If a record–breaking summer in terms of extreme temperatures and low rainfall wasn’t challenging enough, the looming salt wedge creeping its way up the Mississippi River feels like a wake-up call. Even as city officials urge us to stay calm and go about our business, some of us in the ecological world are feeling frenzical. It’s time to transform that frenzy into action through creativity, research, and commitment to our values as plant-people.
Of course, we are humans before we are gardeners, and we deeply value human health and safety. This is not an effort to belittle public health risks associated with the wedge. It is merely a plant and environment- focused perspective. First, let’s hit some of the facts. What exactly are we facing as gardeners and growers? According to the National Weather Service, October and November are the two driest months of the year in the New Orleans area. That means that it’s a time we rely heavily on the municipal water system to tend to plants, in contrast with other times of year where rainfall can be sufficient. Salinity in the water supply means that this resource will be altered. Like many compounds, salt (Sodium Chloride) will ionize when dissolved in water. When sodium levels are high, the sodium will replace plant-food ions, like Potassium, Magnesium, and Calcium, thus interfering with nutrient absorption. Different plants will be affected to differing degrees. A few of the heavy-hitters found in New Orleans’ landscapes are classified as salt-sensitive. Keep a close eye on your Azaleas, Camellias, Roses, Gardenias, Crotons, and Boxwoods once salt water enters the municipal supply.
The beautiful but salt-sensitive Rhododendron indicum is native to Japan.
As gardeners who love to promote home food production, we’d be remiss not to bring up edibles. There are a lot of salt sensitive fruit trees and vegetables, but there is also plenty of resiliency to be found. LSU Ag Center has done a great job circulating this information, including in this article published on NOLA.com. For those of you who aren’t subscribers, they state that “the most salt sensitive vegetables include beans, onions, cucumbers, radishes, and celery.” So as you plan and plant your Fall gardens, keep this in mind and choose differently! Citrus trees are another key local crop that are sensitive to salt, and navigating this is a little complex. Salt concentrations will build up in soil over time as salty water is added to the biome and the water evaporates. This is especially true for plants in containers. Watering at night when evaporation rates are slower helps mitigate this effect, as does keeping moisture levels high and “flushing” the area with a non-salinated water supply.
It’s kind of hard to stomach that part of the answer we’re hearing is “water more” when the appearance of the wedge is directly tied to widespread drought throughout the Mississippi River watershed. While we value our citrus trees and our luxurious rose bushes, it certainly provides cause for reflection.
But all is not lost! There are plenty of coastal climate plants that have evolved some level of tolerance to salt water. Many of our favorite natives fall into this group: Persimmon Virginiana, Muhly Grass, Coreopsis, Blanket Flowers, Wax Myrtles, and more! We have long-loved the drought tolerance of these resilient growers, and this moment serves as reassurance that planting native is the way of the future. Species that have evolved in this climate are more equipped to handle these wild weather times. As we strive to increase the number of native plants in our own installations and work on establishing our own nursery of native species, we recognize the limited commercial availability of some of these plants. Check out the Native Plant Initiative for more information on the subject and a list of retailers in the area, so you can start adding these species to your gardens as well.
Another key adaptive strategy is to increase efforts of water storage. We are still in a subtropical climate, and we are still apt to get a significant amount of rainfall in any given year. Rainwater collection in the form of barrels is a great way to take advantage of plentiful times and redistribute the bounty throughout the drier moments of the year. In the midst of having this conversation with one of our clients, he brought up the cisterns that were commonplace in the New Orleans area in the past.
Vintage ad for cistern install/repair. Source: https://prcno.org/rise-fall-new-orleans-cistern/
In the 19th and early 20th centuries, New Orleanians actually relied on rainwater collection for their drinking water! The Preservation Resource Center of New Orleans published a fantastic article about the history of these cisterns in 2018, describing how they were banned in 1916 as information about mosquito-breeding and Yellow Fever began to surface. Today, Yellow Fever is not the public health threat it once was. We can also use closed-barrel system designs with fine-screen mesh to prevent mosquitoes from entering rainwater catchment systems. Beyond that, we have a plethora of mosquito-control techniques (both natural and chemical) at our disposal. To learn more about installing a sophisticated rainwater collection system, check out the California-based company Blue Barrel Systems. We are happy to offer our services (or just our tools and knowhow) on any rainwater collection project, so please don’t hesitate to reach out.
A Whimscapes-installed Blue Barrel System
There is something profound in the way this moment connects our past, present and future. It’s a nod to the nonlinear nature of progress and the importance of flexibility in times of difficulty. Letting go of things we think we need is always hard, and opting for a self-sustaining watering method can be more complicated than what we’re used to. But we’re here for the challenge– peruse the linked pages, ask the big questions, and come along.
Featured Plant: Jewels of Opar
Jewels of Opar, or Talinum paniculatum, is a longstanding favorite. Its playful blooms and seedpods add a splash of magic to any garden. Try munching on its leaves for a juicy, nutrient-dense garden snack.
Yard
Jewels of Opar is a succulent perennial native in much of the Southern United States. It is a hardy, determined little plant that does well in full-sun, but can also tolerate some shade. There are several cultivars of the plant, including some with variegated leaves. It looks great in clusters as an alternative to non-native evergreens, retaining a joyful green coloration year round.
Beginning in June, it shoots out dainty stalks of sweet little flowers. These eye-catching pink color bursts continue to produce well into the Fall, even with minimal maintenance. As each flower fades into fruit form, it leaves behind a tiny jewel-toned orb. These fanciful seedpods keep the plant visually interesting even after flowering.
Body
Jewels of Opar is also totally edible! It’s a favorite gardening snack of ours, with its crunchy and earthy leaves. August in New Orleans is a tricky time for growing greens. As the movement to source food locally grows stronger and stronger, the difficulty of getting that leafy Vitamin K deep in the delta is real.
There are plenty of widely celebrated heat-tolerant greens, but most of them originated in South America or Southeast Asia, like Sweet Potato leaves and Malabar Spinach. Jewels of Opar takes it one step further.
A member of the Purslane family, these juicy leaves are packed with good stuff.
Spirit
It is utterly neglectful to overlook the spirit of a plant. What joy can it bring us? How does it sing? Jewels of Opar works as a cut flower in fresh arrangements, and it shines even more when dried and paired with grasses and branches. There is something pure magic about the bursts of perfectly round seeds on Jewels’ stalks, and we love the eternality of a plant whose beauty continues beyond its green life.