Plants Die

Apalachicola False Rosemary - Conradina glabra

A death in my plant family always saddens me. We plant and then nurture our plantings the best we can, but sometimes they just don't make it. I originally planted two of these Apalachicola false rosemarys (Conradina glabra) in my new wildflower garden last October. One suffered a major setback over the summer during a period of heavy rain, but a part of it survived. Over the past 2 weeks, the major portion of another started turning brown and it too has perished. Parts of these 2 original plants still appear healthy, but it is obvious to me that both are not in a place where they will prosper. I love this species, but my landscape does not seem to be the right location for it. That's the way landscapes go.
Plants die. It is a reality we all have to cope with as gardeners. Sometimes, it is fairly easy to figure out why; sometimes it is a complete mystery. I suspect that the soils here simply do not drain well enough for Conradinas. They are a genus of plants that occur in scrub and sandhill ecosystems and in these habitats, the soil is well-drained sand. It's not so much the lack of fertility that dictates their occurrence, but the need to have drainage at their roots. Roots are a plant's breathing organ; the part that takes in oxygen for respiration. Without sufficient oxygen, a plant drowns just as we would. In past landscapes, I've created these conditions by removing the first several feet of topsoil and replacing it with pure builder's sand. I did not do that here and I've learned another valuable gardening lesson.
I will not replace these plants if they do not recover from the parts that still seem healthy. As much as I'd love to have them near me, I am not inclined to further modify the soils in this area of my landscape and I do not have a good alternative location to create a well-drained scrub garden as I've done in previous landscapes.  If they fully succumb, I will replace them with something else. That's not the end of the world. I have plenty of other species that might work here and that I now have in pots waiting for an opening.
Over the years, I have killed a great many plants in my quest to learn more about how to grow them. Gardening is always a learning curve. People I've talked to sometimes tell me that they've tried something, that it died and that they've given up on that species because of that. My current landscape is now full of species I've killed several times in the past. I've just not given up on them that easily. I've learned that success is predicated on planting something in the right microclimate;  soil type, drainage,and sunlight being the most important. Some plants are very forgiving. A few are not. When a plant dies, it is incumbent on the gardener to try to figure out why. I watch my plants daily. They generally give me clues along the way. If they are getting too little or too much light, for example, the impacts on their growth are obvious. If I can't move them and they eventually die, I put them in different conditions the next time I plant them.
Some plants are just short lived no matter what we do. For those, I plant again. That's what nurseries are for. I proudly keep them in business...  I am a big proponent of diversity in the landscapes I create, but in order to do that I mix species together that might not otherwise occur together naturally. This landscape is like that. It is the greatest mix of diversity that I've ever tried to assemble. As it develops over the years, I fully expect that some other species will decline, that some will have to be weeded back because they will do too well, and that in all of this I will continue to learn valuable lessons. To learn something new each day is the greatest gift of life. Do not let your creativity be stifled by the "what if it might die" syndrome. Be brave and learn.