 06-16-2009, 2:36 PM
|
Bill Purcell
Joined on 06-29-2005
Posts 50
|
A new wildflower haven, 2009
|
  
|
|
|
<P>After having successfully grown wildflowers since 2005 in my small backyard planter, I wanted to establish a larger area in front of my house, but was somewhat reluctant, as the house faces due north - and seedlings/plants probably would not receive direct sun during the winter and early spring when they're maturing. I finally bit the bullet during the first week of November last year and got to work, realizing that an early-spring blanket of color probably wasn't to be expected, but by this summer, I should have quite a display out there.</P>
<P>The pre-existing flowerbed was bordered with bricks, half-buried at a 45° angle. I yanked all those out and purchased natural, stackable border stone to replace them, but retained the exitsting contours of the bed. After I completed the new border, I began on the beds themselves with a ~3" layer of sizable river rock for drainage. Other than the lack of direct sunlight, I knew that heavy rainfall (common in Houston) would be the biggest threat to my wildflowers, so optimum drainage was an absolute necessity. I'd learned from previous seasons that cornflower / bachelor buttons are a good "indicator species" for soil that has retained too much moisture - it's the first to wilt and die if there's too much rainfall.</P>
<P>Next, I built up my topsoil to a depth of 4-5 inches above the bedrock - I utilized about 60% sand (once again, for drainage), 30% <U>ordinary</U>* topsoil and 10% crushed granite. </P>
<P>* - Do NOT use garden soil - it retains far too much moisture for wildflowers! I also added a bit of granulated lime on top of the soil so that over time (after watering), it would develop a slightly alkaline pH. The alkaline soil along with the granitic component would closely approximate that of the Llano uplift region of the Hill Country - wildflower heaven on Earth! I was now ready to sow the seeds. I generously scattered seeds from Wildseed Farms' Texas/Oklahoma mix along with a bunch of seeds that I had harvested/stored from previous years from the backyard planter (mainly gaillardias). Time to water them in, wait and watch!</P>
<P>As luck would have it, we got blasted by a cluster of thunderstorms with very heavy rainfall only a few days after I sowed the seeds (ironically, this was basically the only rain we received all winter). Many seeds were washed away; my gutters overflowed and left sizable depressions/puddles in the new soil; and all the lime granules "disappeared." By that time, I already had a "Chia-pet"-like sheen of seedlings on the ground, so I didn't want to start over. I carefully filled in the depressions, sowed more seeds in the bare areas, and waited some more. I took a pH reading, and it was completely neutral. It was during subsequent readings over the next few weeks that I realized the lime had all been washed away, as the pH remained right on 7 - it never moved. For whatever reason, I decided against putting down any more lime - fortunately, all these months later, it doesn't seem to have made too much of a difference.</P>
<P>From that point, everything progressed nicely. As the X-mas and New Year holidays went by, I was able to enjoy identifying all kinds of seedling species, and they were all healthy and happy. On the evening of January 14th, things went bad. I pulled into the driveway after work, and literally yelled, "No! NOOOO!" Representatives from an unnamed lawn-maintenance company in Houston had been by that day ... and in addition to mowing the grass, some complete moron had taken to my flowerbeds with the weed-whacker. I was livid. I was <EM>beyond</EM> livid. I had many, many scarlet flax seedlings that were a foot tall already - most were ripped from the ground, others were damaged beyond re-growth. Several bluebonnet rosettes - previously healthy - were now gone. I left the company a scathing voice-mail (but somehow avoided profanity - no small miracle), and heard back from the manager almost immediately. I managed to keep my composure and told him the only way they would keep my business would be to ensure that it would <EM>never</EM> happen again. What the were they doing in my flowerbeds in the first place? I was only using them for basic mowing/edging service ... sigh.</P>
<P>I went outside and painstakingly removed all the fine leaf debris by hand to see what I had left. Over the next few days, I began to see the wonders of nature, as heavily damaged seedlings emerged from their state of shock and began the recovery process. I was starting to feel happy again. That was before Jan. 28. </P>
<P>It happened. Again. Yes - a<EM>gain</EM>!! </P>
<P>This time, it was complete and utter devastation. Seedlings weren't just lopped off - each and every one was razed to the Earth. I felt like I was in a horror movie, and (even though I'm single) it was as if I'd just returned home to find my family slaughtered in the living room. I was completely numb. All that work ... all that care ... </P>
<P>I called the manager of the company again, and in my stunned disbelief, recounted the situation in some sort of other-worldly monotone. After I notified him that they were never to set foot on my property again, he promised to "make it right," and asked me to give him a a price. I took a couple days to think it over. Now, I'm not the sort of person that believes in punitive damages. Money can't make me feel better. Money can't undo what had been done. Throwing cash on the ground will not regrow my seedlings. I came to the conclusion that the only recourse for my conscience was to take the moral high ground, and I decided to have him put his employee to the test. I told him to ask his employee what <EM>he</EM> thought three months of my time and effort was worth - and to make whatever resitution <EM>he</EM> thought was justified. I know it will be no surprise to you, gentle reader, that I received absolutely nothing.</P>
<P>It was now more than apparent that all my early-season blooms simply were not going to happen. Whatever bluebonnets and paintbrush had survived would take so long to recover that the faster-growing species would quickly outpace them, shade them, and they would fade and die. Here it was the end of January - three months of seedling maturation had been lost, and I was "supposed" to have blooms within another 3-4 weeks. Time for new plans. </P>
<P> </P>
<P>This, however, is supposed to be a tale of wildflowers being given a new haven - and I'll be damned if even that setback would prevent my work from reaching fruition. With outside influences now out of the equation, I was finally able to allow nature to enter the healing process. The sun began peeking over the roof line, and things began a relatively rapid recovery. The first baby-blue eyes emerged near the end of February, only a month after the devastation. Toadflax and even a few scarlet flax followed. Overall, there weren't too many blooms during April, but vegetative growth was occurring at an amazing pace amongst the early-summer species. </P>
<P>My enginnering of the beds' drainage was put to a stern test in mid-April. We received 11" of rain in just over a week. Visually, the soil appeared to have performed well - but the final verdict was to be seen a week or two later in the cornflowers ... they all survived just fine! Soon, larkspur, drummond phlox and baby's breath bloomed. A few more cornflower plants joined the mix along with isolated corn poppies, and masses of gaillardias exploded onto the scene in early May. My wildflower display didn't look <EM>exactly</EM> as I'd hoped, but it was pretty darn close. I was pleased ...</P>
<P>Mid-May brought out the lemon mint, clasping coneflower, black-eyed susans, and a few coreopsis. (Note to self: sow a <EM>bunch </EM>more coreopsis seed next year!). June is upon us along with endless hot, dry days. After a month of daily work dead-heading the gaillardias to keep them proliferating, the seed heads are adding up faster than I can prune them. This year's wildflowers have begun to fade ... but a few larkspur re-appeared this week. Life is pretty good, and I'm already making plans for next year's crop.</P>
<P>Forgive my penchant for loquacity, but I felt the entire story needed to be told. Before I paste the link to my pictures, it's necessary for me to remind the reader that when you look at them, there's much, much more than meets the eye. Blood, sweat, tears, frustration, anger, joy, satisfaction ... they're all in there. </P>
<P>As I ponder the past nine months in my life, I also realize ... that's exactly as nature intended it to be.</P>
<P><A href="http://imageevent.com/mpurcell/wfhome">http://imageevent.com/mpurcell/wfhome</A></P>
<P> </P>
<P> </P>
<P> </P>
|
|
|
|
|
Report
|
|
|
|