Pensive Tuesday: Annual Verus Perennial

I've always had a strong bias toward pernnials in my garden. These plants are defined as having a life span of two or more years. If a plant lives a year or less, it's an annual. The somewhere-in-betweens are biennials.

Crassula, a Favored Perennial

Every once in a while, I get a hankering to grow an annual. Not because it's a short-lived plant, but because of some other quality I admire despite its short life. Sunflowers are a case in point:

In other words, they have to overcome, with their marvelous beauty or intriguing aspects, my aversion to annuals. Poor flowers!
Perennials, on the other hand, are the gifts that keep on giving, right? I mean, they can go on for decades with good care. That's a big plus! Bamboo can take over your whole garden if you give it just a little love (not that that is always a good thing).

Black Bamboo CU, MR 2013

But as I've grown older, I've begun to appreciate the fleeting beauty of annuals a whole lot more. I've been growing them more often, and I don't get as melancholy as I used to when I pull up the wizened husk of an exhausted annual, and toss it in the trash. It's become more of a Buddhist Moment for me, a brief meditation on impermanence-- from the trash grows the flower, and in time, the flower returns to the trash. Lather, rinse, repeat.

So now annuals are welcome in my garden. My closest analogy to growing both together is that perennials are like the basic ground of a painting. The fundamental shapes, the background colors, and so on. Annuals add that zip that can transform one painting into a series. Each one somewhat alike, each one different. I tried this approach with a series of photos I'd taken of some beach shells, so see if you agree with me....

Plate of Shells II, Marla Robb, 2013

Plate of Shells V, Marla Robb, 2013

Plate of Shells VI, Marla Robb, 2013

What are your thoughts on the short-lived versus the long-lived plants in your garden? Have you changed over time?

Repotted and Lovin' It Part II

So for Thoughtful Thursday, I decided what to write for next Pensive Tuesday. It will be about...dirt.

But strangely, my post on re-potting has proven to be one of my most popular. People from about 20 different countries have read it. OK, so re-potting is good fun, it's action-packed, it's a special time for me and my plants. And since I've finished quite a few more pots recently, I've been doing a lot of it. The one above is for 3 of the young cacti I started from seed last year. The seeds were labeled "Cactus", but I think they could be Mammillaria. Let's hope so.

Here's a repotted Crassula. Though it was only re-potted about 10 days ago, it's grown so much in that time that I've already started its next, larger pot. Good grief, curb your enthusiasm, Crassula!

These Lithops marmorata, aka "The Brains" look symmetrical and tidy in their new pot. And this tiny julii (about 1.5cm tall) was so exuberant, it got its own tiny pot (about 5cm tall) as well:

This next pot is here simply because I'm proud of it. No idea what's going in it yet. It's the terracotta clay with malachite glaze; I'm quite smitten with this combo.

And finally, more malachite glaze, this on white stoneware. The sculpture on the right is part of a family project. Any family member or friend that visits me on my sand dune is encouraged to (ie: strongarmed into) making a garden sculpture for my garden. This one is my father's first sculpture ever. I love it!

For Repotted and Lovin' It Part III, I'll probably show the incredibly messy areas where I actually re-pot these guys, and make the pots! You may be shocked....

Pensive Tuesday: CAM Makes It Happen!

My topic of contemplation for this Tuesday is more scientific than philosophical. It amazes me that certain plants can thrive is such arid, hostile environments as the world's deserts and beachy dunes. How do they do it? How can they simultaneously deal with all that hot sunlight, and that lack of water?

It turns out there are 3 forms of photosynthesis, and the type called CAM is the answer I was seeking. CAM stands for Crassulacean Acid Metabolism, because it was first discovered in the family Crassula (one of the succulent collector's favorites) in the 1890s.



A Crassula


CAM can be used exclusively by a plant, or just when things get hot and dry. Most of the plants in this blog, mesembs, Tillandsias, cacti,  are CAM obligates- it's the only type of photosynthesis they have. What makes CAM so special?

Basically, CAM saves water. Most plants lose about 97% of their water each day to evapotranspiration. CAM allows plants to keep their stomata (pores) closed during the hot, dry day, and to open them at night when evaporation is at a minimum. CAM is a two-part process whereby the plant allows carbon dioxide in at night, fixes it into organic acids, stores those in vacuoles. During the day, it sends the malate to the chloroplasts, so the plant can photosynthesize with its stomata closed.  It requires a lot more solar energy, but a lot less water. These plants get lots of sun, but not much water, so it works.  CAM also allows a plant to essentially go dormant for longish periods during droughts, and then "wake up" when the rains or mists return. It's called a "CAM Idle", and many mesembs and cacti can do this. So can some Tillies. Ordinary plants just die during long droughts.

So that's how they do it. Remarkable!




CAM Expert Mammillaria nana duwei