There Were No Fences

  Gum bully - Sideroxylon lanuginosa Events in my life lately have caused me to think about permanence. We go through life thinking we know what the next day, the next month, the next year and the future beyond that will look like, but the reality is that we have no idea. It doesn't take much to upend our plans. Then, we find that each day that does go forward as we think it will is a blessing to be treasured. Having plans is a wonderful thing. Having them actually happen is much more so.   We do this in our landscapes. We plant with the belief that our plants will grow and that our landscapes will develop according to plan. Gardeners are some of the world's greatest optimists and without that optimism most of us would quit.  Often, this optimism works in our favor, but occasionally it is heartbreaking - especially when a treasured addition that we look at as a lynchpin to our plantings fails. We find that, despite our best planting knowledge, forces outside our control take ov

Apalachicola rosemary - Conradina glabra I started my life in native plants with a mission to create living landscapes. As a wildlife biologist recently hired by the University of Florida to initiate a statewide program devoted to urban wildlife, it became obvious early on that I would have to learn Florida native plants and come to understand how to use them in a landscape to provide habitat for birds, pollinators and other wildlife. After all, plants comprise a significant portion of what becomes habitat.  All of this, of course, was before there were things like the internet and social media. My knowledge, for what it is, had to be derived mostly by observation and I spent a great many hours hiking/walking natural areas. I also began the planting of natives in my landscape. My ex-wife used to chastise me for going outside regularly to "stare at my garden" - and I did of course.  Hours of 'staring" has taught me more about plants and the life that is drawn to and b