Saturday, July 16, 2016

Four O'Clocks and Other Marvels of a Southern Garden

I've been busying myself – and my bank account – lately with trying to put in tropicals for my salty piece of land here in Ormond-By-The-Sea. I don't have much room for a lavish display, so mostly what I have are my philodendrons, which sorely need to be out of their pots, and a sprinkling of free banana plants. I had some translated sea grape that are struggling to come back, after my having moved them several times. I was lucky to have inherited some hibiscus and crotons in my front yard, and two years ago I put my previously potted key lime in the front yard, and it has done a tremendous job of being the largest pain in the neck, although it actually produced a lime for the first time in its life last year.

I did not inherit any palm trees in my purchase of the bungalow, but Hubby is determined to have them somewhere. He's already evicted my ginger in lieu of Queen Palms in his head. I did inherit a rather large and very crooked Monkey Puzzle Tree in the front, which drops the most annoying dead needles that, if you happen to be standing under it at an unfortunate time, may very well impale you. I would love to take it down, but I'm afraid I would be disowned in the neighborhood. It's practically a landmark.

So, not much room to plant, as the backyard is taking on monstrous deck proportions and the pool is definitely a dominating factor.

A neighbor had a marvelous Four O'Clock bush that just dazzled me every year. Yellows, magentas and striped pinks, with the most heavenly scent – not to mention a dazzling array of hummingbirds on a regular basis. When the neighbor's property next door sold, they had a landscape crew come in and they literally mowed it down.

I used to love the Four O'Clocks when I lived at the 1900s house in McIntosh, FL and stole seeds on a daily basis when they bloomed. I recently found them in an old matchbox I had kept in my jewelry chest. For those that haven't experienced Four O'Clocks, they grow almost anywhere (although they become dormant in cooler weather) and they are magnificent.  But, once you plant them...they are planted until doomsday. They produce and drop seeds at an alarming rate, and quickly becomes large draping bush.

And I know exactly where I'm going to plant them. I put in a walkway by the pool, and left a nice garden area, where I have bits and pieces now, but soon, it will be covered in Four O'Clocks. It will be a magical walkway, with bright shocks of color as the temperature simmers down to a low boil.

I can hardly wait to have my own little hummingbird habitat.

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