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.

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Rainwater Collection: Past and Present