A Death in the Family

Not everything you plant is going to survive...
Yesterday, I was admiring how well this New Jersey tea (Ceanothus americanus) was doing; new growth showing up along the stem and lots of signs that it was prospering. This morning, the leaves looked wilted so I watered it, thinking that it was too dry. By tonight, it was obviously dead. The pine lily (Lilium catesbaei) in the foreground is also dying. Though very much saddened by these turn of events, it is not unexpected. Plants die. Not always because of what we've chosen to plant, but just because.
With the sudden onset of summer and brutal temperatures in the 90's F, some will simply not make the adjustment. I have two other New Jersey teas that are doing splendidly and 3 other lilies in that same category. Perhaps they will succumb and perhaps they will not. It is a risk those of us that plant face daily. All of the wildflowers in my landscape are native. That does not mean that they will perform well.
Over the years, I have heard a great many people tell me that they have tried something once and it died; a leap of faith that it was somehow a mistake that they will not make again. I've killed hundreds of plants in my 30+ years of gardening with Florida native plants and in most cases I have eventually succeeded with each. There are just so many reasons why a plant might die and most of them are not related to using the wrong plant.
Just because a plant looks good when you install it doesn't mean that it doesn't have an underlying problem that you can't see at the time. Plants, like animals, have complicated systems and some of them are just not as healthy as they appear. They also are not genetic clones of each other. Within any population, be it in nature or in a nursery, there are some more adapted to your site than others. Natural selection weeds out those that are not a good fit. Sometimes it takes planting more than you think you will need in anticipation that a few are going to die.
Sometimes, even with experience, we choose the wrong site - too much sunlight, too moist, soils that are too "heavy" for example. I am learning my new site. It is not at all like the ones I've gardened in previously. When environmental conditions are good, like they have been, most of my plants have done exceedingly well, but I've never been lulled into believing that the onset of a Florida summer will not exact a price. Though native, not all of my plants are going to like the microclimate of my new wildflower bed.  I will learn from this just as I have learned from failures in the past. It may be that a few of the species I thought would prosper won't. I may simply try them in a different location.
I have left the invasive camphor tree to the south of this planting area. As I am renting, it seems a bit off limits for me to cut down the only mature tree on this lot. I sited the wildflower area to take advantage of the partial shade it provides the south end of my bed and I've planted the wildflowers there that seem to prefer some protection from a full day of sun. So far, the purple and yellow coneflowers have responded in the way I had predicted. Again, time will tell. All a gardener can do is to make the best guesses possible and watch to see if they are right. Over time, nature will take over and those that are best for this area will thrive and, hopefully, spread. I am putting in the pieces, but the final result will be the work of nature.
The same is true in my developing woodland and in my planted wetland. I have lost both of the Stillingia aquatica that I have planted in the wetland, though the dozen I added to a wetland planting I'm working on a few miles away from me are doing extremely well. I have no idea why they have died here, but there has to be some nuance that I haven't picked up on yet. Some of my understory trees are getting too much sun while waiting for the basswood to get larger. In the past, such trees lose their foliage prematurely, but wait things out until conditions get better.  My red buckeye (Aesculus pavia) is a good example. Some may perish as the summer progresses, but it is a risk I take. I can always add another at a future date.
It often takes several years to adequately assess our plantings. If something doesn't succeed, try a new one - maybe in the same general location as the first or maybe in a new one if that seems to make sense. Right now, life here is generally good. Of course, that may change. I've got the time and patience to wait it out, make the changes that seem appropriate, and tinker with my plan as things unfold.

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