Food from the Sky

After moving to Florida, my family started joking that avocados were the “zucchini of the South.” Up north, at a certain time of year, people’s gardens produce so many zucchinis they have a hard time finding homes for all of them.

As it turns out, avocados are only one of the luscious treats that literally fall from the sky here in Florida. We also have loquats, mangos, coconuts, carambola, and papaya.

Just the other day I ate a papaya that I grew myself. In my front yard is a papaya tree laden with fruit. When we first moved here a little over a year ago, a neighbor gave me a small papaya tree – just a stick to put in the ground, really. I made my daughter’s boyfriend dig the hole for it. I didn’t expect much.

Now I see what a gift a fruit tree really is. The tree has grown tall and is producing shade, fruit, and admiration from the neighbors.

I actually didn’t have the courage to eat the fruit myself. I am trained to only eat things that come from stores. My friend was happy to try one of my papaya for breakfast. When it didn’t kill her, I decided it was worth a shot.

I am sure there was a time in history when most people had the experience of eating something we grew with our own hands.  Now, this is a rare thing for many of us.

The sense of satisfaction and connection to the great cycle of life that comes from eating food directly from the tree is immense.

Here in Florida, we have corrupt politicians and crazy news stories. We also have food that grows year round in our yards.  Living in Florida can be a struggle in some ways. There are things, like papaya trees, that seem to make it worthwhile.

Why I’m a Lousy Gardener

It was one year ago when I first put the flowering house plant into the ground. Now it’s a huge, pink tree. It, and its new offspring, are a favorite feast of snails. I know this because last spring snails were the bane of my existence.

Gardening experts told me I could get rid of the snail problem, once and for all, by baiting the snails very early in the springtime. I bought my bait and waited.

Then, in February, little holes in the yard began to appear. Hundreds of young armadillos were venturing out in the night to feast on snails. The armadillos had cute little pink snouts. How could I deprive them of their snail delicacies?

Now the armadillos have grown up and, for the most part, moved on. My garden is ravaged by snails. As I go to the shed to get the snail bait, a snail is climbing on the screen door.  The snail and I are face-to-face. The snail is so cute, with its little antennae.

More Lessons from the Garden

One of the great things about living in Florida is the ability to garden all year long. Of course, this is only my first year as a gardener, but I have already had some great successes.

It occurred to me that, at this point, I have yet to actually buy a plant. All of my current plants are propagated from plants that other people didn’t want or couldn’t take care of.

Some of my plants were here when I got here. There were two straggly hibiscus bushes in front of our house. At one time they might have been lovely. When I inherited them they looked hopeless. In fact, my neighbors told me they were hopeless.

It was more that I didn’t want the hassle of removing them that made me nurture them. I didn’t have any real love for them. I like unusual plants, and red hibiscus is pretty common here in Florida. They are also messy plants; they drop a lot of leaves.

Even though I was motivated by laziness and unenthusiastic about the flowers, I nurtured the hibiscus for almost a year. I pruned and fed, and waited.

As little as a month ago I was telling my neighbor I was getting ready to get rid of them. They just weren’t worth the trouble. But I didn’t give up. I continued to nurture them.

This morning they greeted me with huge, healthy blooms. They’ve boomed before, but the blossoms were sparse and small. Today’s blossoms are magnificent.

I learn so much from gardening. Today I learned that, regardless of the initial motivation, diligence and patience pays off.  I learned, too, that even common things can be uniquely beautiful. I learned that health and beauty go hand in hand. I also learned not to give up easily on living things.  We can often respond to nurturance. Sometimes it just takes a while!

Everyday Miracles

Here’s another post about my favorite plant. It’s a seven-foot-tall angel trumpet (brugmansia) given to me as a potted plant by a snowbird returning to Canada.

Now my plant is as tall as a tree it’s large pink fragrant blossoms have caught the attention of my neighbors. Do I have any seeds to share? Not yet. But I read on the internet that the brugmansia is easy to grow from cuttings either left in water or simply stuck in the ground.

It was time to prune anyway.

When I was finished pruning I had seven sticks prepared according to the internet instructions.

I put four in individual jars of water. I stuck three in the ground.

I had only a wee bit of hope for the sticks in the water. I figured in a few days I would be dumping out the water and throwing sticks with mushy bottoms onto the compost heap.

I had even less hope for the sticks in the ground. I even had a few people tell me they were pretty sure you couldn’t just stick a stick in the ground and have it grow.

What really happened was life. Right before my eyes life happened. Each stick sprouted new life.

I quickly gave the sprouts in jars to my neighbors. Now I’m watching the sticks in the ground grow leaves and branches.

These sprouting sticks remind me of the suit of Wands in many tarot decks. The suit of Wands is related to the element of Fire. In some decks the Wands are shooting out flames. But in some decks the Wands are blooming and growing leaves and flowers.

In some traditions of Wicca a sprouting branch is the appropriate altar tool to invoke the element of Fire.

The metaphysical properties of Fire include life energy, passion, creativity and spirituality.

The ease with which my trumpet flower sticks became new life spoke to me of the fiery power of life force energy.

It reminded me of the miracles that happen around us every day, and of the miracle that life is every day.

That I’m making this discovery in the middle of December feels like the biggest miracle of all to this Yankee living in the Sunshine State.

A Special Plant

One of the plants I inherited from my Canadian friend was simply called “datura.” I thought this was cool because my office in West Palm Beach where I spent five happy years was on Datura Street.

The plant was large and had spiky seedpods. Soon it developed two distinct kinds of flowers.

When I transplanted it from its pot into the ground it became clear that I was working with two plants, not one. Some internet research lead me to the truth.  What I had was a sacred datura, also called moonflower or devil’s trumpet and its close cousin, a brugmansia, also called angel trumpet.

I was startled by the names of the flowers. One of the first spiritual groups to which I belonged was called “Moonflower,” and the Angel Trumpet reminded me of the Judgment tarot card. Surely these plants were meant for me!

The seedpods belonged to the moonflower, and soon I had moonflower seedlings sprouting up all over. The angel trumpet is becoming a tree that is taller than I am.

Breeding the angel trumpet will be a more difficult matter. It can only be fertilized by one insect – the hummingbird moth.

When I lived in Loxahatchee I had a neighbor who invited me to see a hummingbird moth at his angel trumpet tree. I had forgotten about that until I saw the beautiful blossoms on my own plant.

Another interesting thing about these flowers is they are night blooming. There is something really special about plants that bloom at night.

Both of these plants are considered poisonous. They are from South America, and both are used in spiritual ritual as an hallucinogen.  Sadly, here in the United States some people have tried to use them recreationally with poor results. Therefore, the plants are only legal in 47 states, and datura and brugmansia enthusiasts are very careful about with whom their share their seeds and plants.

There is a strong worldwide community of people who grow, collect and breed these interesting plants. I feel that I will have a lifelong connection to these beautiful living things.

My Accidental Garden

I did plan to begin gardening, but my garden nonetheless stared accidentally.

While living in a small community in Davie, FL I made friends with some of the Canadian snowbirds.

They loved gardening, and would return in their RVs each year to the same spot to continue nurturing their flowers.

When the announcement came that our community would be closing, I needed to find a new home and my Canadian friends needed to find new places to winter.

They also needed to find new caregivers for their plants.

I found a new home in in a community on the west coast of Florida. The truck would hold just a few of the plants my friend bequeathed to me. Her French was much better than her English – I didn’t get the names of all the plants, nor all of her lengthy instructions for their care.

Part of getting settled in the new home was transplanting the plants into the yard. I had no idea what I was doing.

So far, it has gone better than expected. Some of the plants that were small enough to fit in our van now tower over my head.

I must be doing something right.

The purple queen that Pierette had given me a handful of, saying “Just soak these in water,” is spreading throughout the backyard. When storms break the shoots I’ve taken to planting the shoots in the front – it looks like they’re going to grow there, too.

Because I don’t know what I’m doing I’m not afraid to try things. Some of those things seem to work.

The datura had a lot of seedpods. I spread the seeds around and now I have seedlings with flower of their own. I’ve transplanted some of them to the front, too.

The zinnias are the most difficult. They’ve had mildew, snails and storms threaten them. But they keep on blooming, and keep on attracting butterflies.

Come September I think I’ll start an intentional garden by planting seeds of my own choice. But I’ll never forget the seventy-year-old woman from Quebec who gave me my first plants.

Lessons from the Garden

After threatening to do this for some time and a few feeble attempts, I am finally gardening with some good results.

I am humbled by the feeling of helping things grow and the honor of watching life happen day-to-day.

There are so many lessons that come up for me as I tend my garden.

One lesson is about selective nurturing.

I was initially thrilled that I have snails in my garden. I think snails are really cute.

I was devastated when I realized they were harming my plants. I could nurture the snails or the plants, but not both.

Life is like that, too. We have to decide what our focus will be, and sometimes ruthlessly favor one thing over another, depending on our goals.

Another lesson is about where we put our energy.

When tending a plant it is best to cut off old blooms and damaged leaves. That way the plant can put all its energy into new growth. Wouldn’t it be great if we could let go of our own damage so easily?

For me this has become a useful image. Am I putting energy into sustaining damage that no longer serves me? Can I simply remove that damage, heal, and put my energy into new growth instead?

Plants make everything seem so simple.