March Madness in the Garden - Part I

March is winding down, and too much is going on to document it all. The growing season is pretty much year-round here, but March still marks the end of the cycle for some plants, and the beginning for others. Soon the tropical hardwoods like gumbo limbo, mahogany and fish-poison tree will shed their leaves, with new buds anticipating summer's rains. 

As usual, it's windy and dry. Fire season is well underway, with between 17,000 and 18,000 acres burned so far in two brush fires that merged into one megafire. Both were started by lightning. High wind and low humidity made the foresters' and firefighters' jobs even harder. Thick smoke enshrouding everything meant very little outside activity, and portions of US 41, the "Tamiami Trail," and I-75, "Alligator Alley," south and east of Naples had to be closed at times due to poor visibility. 

Choking Haze of Smoke

Much of Florida's flora, and indirectly, fauna, is either fire-dependent or fire-resistant. The question that I have not seen addressed is whether all the branches and trees downed by Hurricane Irma made the fuel load high enough to make the fire truly destructive and allow it to get into cypress strands and hardwood hammocks, which burn much less frequently under natural conditions.

Gardeners mimic fire by cutting back native ornamental grasses hard either after they bloom or before new growth resumes in spring. I cut  back the Pink Muhly Grass this March. I also get down on my hands and knees to reach under the clumps and pull out old rotting thatch, which goes onto the compost pile. If we did not live in virtually de-natured suburbia, I would hesitate to do that, because a nice big clump of grass would be a great sheltering place for a pygmy or even bigger rattlesnake. As it is, I have gotten stung by wasps in hidden nests, so now I wear gloves and stay ready to run. 

Blue-eyed grass (Sisyrinchium angustifolium) has bloomed vigorously for months, and is now going to seed, along with Tickseed (Coreopsis leavenworthii). 

Coreopsis leavenworthii

Gaillardias (Gaillardia pulchella)are at their peak, and it won't be long before I have to start pulling them out or cutting them back hard. Dry, windy March is aphid, mealybug and whitefly season, and the foliage of the Gaillardias is getting ratty. The plants also develop long leggy stalks that eventually fall over, and the whole clump tends to collapse on one side. They will regenerate sometimes if I cut them back hard and water them, but it's easier to pull them out, because they reseed so readily.

Quick Impression of Gaillardia Clump

 There is  something inherently cheerful about Gaillardias, and they are tough; extremely drought tolerant, need no fertilizer. They flower so heavily that dead-heading can be an arduous task. I do some before I just give up. 

Cheerful Gaillardias

This year they are everywhere in the yard, blocking even the rudimentary paths I have through the garden. Other years they aren't quite as dominant, but they always come back.

I Love Sketching Gaillardias

One of the agaves bloomed spectacularly, and is now declining. I don't know the name. It was given to me years ago, and I've kept it going via seedlings. This year I don't think any seedlings formed on the inflorescence, but I have a couple pots of the plant, so I don't worry about losing the species. The stalk resembles a huge, tough asparagus spear.  I couldn't reach any flowers while they were still open, and had to settle for the withered ones that fell to the ground.

Reminds Me of Jack and the Beanstalk!

Red Stopper and CocoPlum are putting out new growth in varying shades of reds. Seagrape leaves already have changed from translucent coppers to mature green.  Depending on light conditions the new leaves can look delicately pastel or flaming, almost black-red.

Eugenia rhombea, New Growth

I'll have to catch up with the rest of March in the next post. Life in the garden goes on, whether I'm able to keep up or not!