August

This August has been something of a slog. And now we're already in the 3rd week of September! Medical procedures, mounds of paperwork, and heat indices into the 'teens have combined to keep me inside. Outside, things are occurring in the yard at a frantic pace. While spring ushers in a flurry of new growth in anticipation of rain, late summer shows a mad rush to grow and reproduce before the dry season begins.

There have been several waves of polydamas swallowtails after I blogged about them in July. In fact, a new adult was flying around last week. Predatory yellow jackets have been in evidence most, but not all, of the time. I don't know whether the butterflies hatched here or flew in from elsewhere. I've looked for chrysalids, but our badly overgrown yard offers a vast number of places to hide one. 

Our yard is home to many native plants. While they may struggle in their actual habitat, put them into a garden where they receive a modicum of care in somewhat amended soil, and they can run rampant. Mother Nature doesn't know a lot about sharing, and just about any plant that grows reasonably well here will try to take all the space. I try to scan all the bushels of vegetation I pull out or  prune back for evidence of caterpillars, cocoons or chrysalids, and baby tillandsias, but I'm sure I miss some.

 I  keep several water garden pots though I don't have any native waterlilies or lotus. The waterlilies bloom most of the time, which reminds me that I haven't even gotten around to fertilizing these heavy feeders yet. The lotus are mostly bloomed out by the end of July, and even beginning to go dormant by this time, but I had a few isolated late bloomers much to my delight.

                                                    Lotus, "Green Maiden"

Coral honeysuckle, Lonicera sempervirens, blooms most of the year here. It was in full flower in the middle of March. It may not make as impressive a show now, but the flowers haven't stopped. I couldn't get it established in Georgia, where it is native, but it flourishes here in sw Florida, which is south of its normal range.  It is a favorite of hummingbirds during their migrations to and from more southern climes, as well as many species of butterflies. Problem is, I've got it planted along a fence on the side of the house, so we miss most of what goes on with it. It is another proverbial "trouble-free" and "drought-tolerant" plant, and it also tolerates our flooding rains.

                                                Coral Honeysuckle

I finally got the bird pepper (Capsicum annuum, var. glabriusculum) that I bought way back in March  into a bigger pot. It was beginning to decline seriously before I did anything, but has responded beautifully to better circumstances. The birds weren't finding it where I put it, so I moved the pot to under a Simpson's Stopper (Myrcianthes fragrans), which is a favorite perching and foraging space for mockingbirds. Some of the fruits have disappeared, so something is eating them. 

This tiny pepper is a form of the ancestor of all our  peppers. It has a real bite, but the sting doesn't continue to linger and burn like many hot peppers. It's a great addition to all sorts of dishes, especially Tex-Mex and stir-fry. It's a  diminutive plant for starters, and its structure is so dense and compressed that it's hard for me to figure out just how things are arranged.

An invasion of Eurasian collared doves was an unwelcome event. Sadly, they discovered the Jamaica Caper, and literally shook the small tree with their clumsy weight as they stripped its fruits. The mockingbirds got some, but these aliens, imported years ago for hunting, probably got most. Our native mourning doves are delightful and coo melodically, but these boors have a call like "Raaaalf!" I always think of somebody barfing when the Eurasian collared doves are around.

The starry rosinweed (Silphium astericus) which I bought at the same time as the bird pepper, but planted right away, has outdone itself and already formed a second flowering clump. It has dark green, coarse leaves that can get 6 inches long or more, and the basal rosette is persistent. The erect, branched flowering stalks grow at least 18 inches tall. It has been blooming nonstop since late April/early May. I think I have the variety simpsonii, which occurs naturally along Florida's coastal plain, and is more tolerant of heat than some other forms. It will be interesting to see what it does once the rains stop. The butterflies and other pollinators were quick to discover it.  

                                        Starry Rosinweed

Elliott's aster (Aster elliotii) has produced its usual weedy-looking mass of skinny stems. I keep it because it is so stunning in full flower. Otherwise it is something of an eyesore, and since it spreads by rhizomes it will colonize any area that is even slightly moist. No illustration here - it is surprisingly difficult to draw or photograph a mess!

Last, but not least, one of my ponytail palms, Beaucarnia recurvata, bloomed. This one was a sort of gift from my late next door neighbor who didn't want it and suggested I take it. I have a problem letting things die ( one reason the yard is so overgrown - I don't pull out all the volunteers) so I took it. It was humming with honeybees and perhaps some other smaller pollinators.

This stem succulent has a very swollen base, and is not closely related to palms at all. It eventually will grow too large for this yard, but by then I will be long gone. Given the way old houses here are scraped away and replaced with narrow, 3-story mansionettes built all the way out to the setbacks, my tiny piece of semi-natural habitat will vanish too. It's a melancholy thought.

All Native Plant Nursery

Just before the "stay home" order I got to visit the All Native Plant Nursery in Fort Myers with one of my sisters. What  a treat! It had been far too long since my last visit. I bought too many plants - our yard is already crowded. My reason for going was the need for a Bahama Cassia, but of course, I bought more than that one plant. (For some reason I can't link back to my own blog, but in "The Butterfly Effect," posted on 1/23/20, I talk about Bahama Cassia).

A wonderful mix of "minty" fresh foliage and the heady fragrance of several varieties of viburnums enveloped us as soon as we entered the sales area.  I really wanted one, not only for the fragrance, but also for birds, but it is too unruly for our small yard.

I planted one once, and after a few years had to dig it out - not an easy job. It had suckered exuberantly, and was showing no sign of slowing down. Still, if any space should open up, I will definitely consider some of the newer, more compact varieties of this multi-purpose shrub.

We didn't look at the big trees. That would have been fun, but we didn't have time, and while we could use the shade in our yard, again, there's no room for a live oak or a majestic gumbo-limbo.

Apart from the delight of so many flourishing native plants, just strolling the shaded pathways was a pleasure. I would love to return with my sketchbook and just draw for a few hours.

Shady paths and an abundance of plants - A gardener's dream
Sunshine Mimosa in foreground

Against better judgment, I bought a beach morning glory, Ipomoea imperatii. This morning glory doesn't climb, and in our loose, sandy "soil" expands its territory quickly. I hope I can keep this one in check in a large pot. I'll let it sprawl down the sides some, and with any luck I'll keep it tidy.  The dark green foliage and the white flower, with just the slightest hint of yellow-green, are very attractive.

I  had one some years ago, and it not only overran our yard, but was in the process of marching through the one next door. There was nobody living there at the time, so I didn't have to fess up to my sins or explain what I was doing  with trowel and hand rake on somebody else's property.  I overdid the cleanup, though, because it vanished from our yard as well.

Ipomoea imperatii - Beach Morning Glory

The  basal rosettes of  starry rosinweed, Silphium astericus were incredibly vigorous. It wasn't the promise of bright yellow flower heads, but the fantastic raspy leaves that made this plant irresistible. I can't wait to try to draw it. I planted it in an area that gets strong sun, but also some shade. It's doing well, and growing upwards.

Starry Rosinweed - Silphium astericus

A lovely trellised Pentalinon luteum, wild allamanda, or hammock viper's tail, was another "must-have" once I had seen it.  There is one in our yard, but it suffered with Hurricane Irma in 2017, and had been looking puny. I wasn't even sure if it would survive another year. Sure enough, as soon as I planted the "replacement" nearby, the old plant put out a burst of new growth. That's great. As far as I'm concerned, you can't have too much of this gorgeous flowering vine. The large, tubular flowers are a glowing lemon-yellow. They last only one day, but there's always another bud getting ready to bloom.

Pentalinon luteum in Full Bloom

Pentalinon blooms profusely, and over a fairly long period. Its shiny bright yellow-green leaves make it attractive even when it is not flowering. (If I don't irrigate it during our dry and windy winters and early spring, it may lose some or most leaves and go into a brief period of semi-dormancy).  Now and again various species of oleander moth chew on it, and they have the irritating habit of going after the flowers before tackling the leaves. Unless the infestation is particularly serious, I usually let it run its course, because the day-flying oleander moths are beautiful too.

Pentalinon luteum, Flower and Buds

We almost overlooked the bird peppers (Capsicum annuum var. glabriusculum) sitting on a bench in partial shade. Bird pepper is the ancestor of all our hot peppers. In the U.S. it occurs  naturally in Texas, Arizona and Florida. It also grows in the Bahamas, the Caribbean, and parts of Mexico, Central America and Columbia.

 You've got to pick the fruits fast, because the birds, especially mockingbirds, gobble them. The peppers have a nice burn that is great for imparting extra flavor to what you are cooking. It's another plant I killed by neglecting it totally.  I'm still looking for just the right place for it. There are plenty of spaces where I could tuck it away, but I want it close enough to the patio so that it's easy to tend, and also so we can watch the birds. I may decide on puttiing it in a large pot for now.


Last, but not least, sea lavender, Argusia gnaphalodes, a member of the Borage Family. Decades ago I saw it in Aruba and fell in love with it. I had never seen it on a Florida beach. The linear leaves are a pale, felty gray. It is a resident of sand dunes, and an important beach stabilizer. It is endangered now because so much beach habitat has been developed.

It's not frequently available, due to the difficulty of propagating it. I placed it in a barren spot near the seawall, where the soil is scarcely rich, and where the drainage is almost too good. The site is in easy reach of the garden hose, though, so I am pampering it with plenty of water until until it has established itself. Then it should be pretty much a "cast-iron" plant that will thrive on neglect.

I also bought a book, A Land Remembered, by Patrick D. Smith, that chronicles 3 generations of a "cracker" family coping with the Florida wilderness, and the changes brought by increasing settlement. That's a pretty impressive haul, but there were so many more things, especially wildflowers, that I wanted to try, or even multiples of the same plant.

Having a good native plant nursery within reach is a real luxury. When I first moved to this area in 1993, native plants generally were available only once a year at the plant sales hosted by  local chapters of the Florida Native Plant Society. Most of the plants had to be brought in from Florida's east coast. We owe the founder and owner of All Native Garden Center, John Sibley, who is a stalwart supporter of the Florida Native Plant Society both statewide and locally, a huge thanks.


And now that I have a selection of beautiful new plants, I need to get back to my sketchbook!

Pentalinon luteum