Behind the posts, articles, conferences and social media, there’s a backstory. Have you kept up with the digital correspondence between Ranters Scott Beuerlein and Marianne Willburn? You can start here, or go back and find the entire correspondence at Dear Gardener.
Lovettsville, VA
July 14, 2024
Dear Scott,
A quiet Sunday house, and after you called me from the road, I thought I’d put down a couple thoughts before they magically disappeared into the ether of a middle aged brain. It was fun to chat — I’ll send you a bill for the high-quality streaming entertainment service I provided as you made the drive to Columbus.
I’d love to be out at Cultivate this year refuting whatever rumors you’re spreading about me; but the problem is, I’m driving to Princeton Massachusetts in a week to give two talks; and Asheville, North Carolina for the Perennial Plant Association Symposium we’re both going to the week after that; and there are only so many miles I can ask my old Subaru to do, not to mention only so much watering I can ask that man of mine to do.
I remember sweet Spring scenes like this……
Not this kind of yuck.
He already doesn’t understand why he’s being asked to water “brown grass that is obviously dead” (Carex ‘Red Rooster’), and a bald cypress that I’m hoping is only mostly dead.
Three more days away at a tradeshow would sign the death warrant for plants and trees I had the misfortune to try and establish this year of all years. So, I’m taking a pass and will give you the advantage of all the hand-shaking, baby-kissing and plant schmoozing you’re bound to do in your ploy for networking dominance.
You should know however that no amount of padded brown paper envelopes passed in hotel corridors will change the outcome of whether you, I, or Michael Perry (aka the UK’s Mr. Plant Geek) will be bringing home a Garden Communicators International Gold Award next month for our respective columns. GCI made that decision last month and are just waiting for the awards ceremony in Grand Rapids, so you might as well relax and spend the money on drink.
Besides which, Perry poses for an inordinate amount of lusty half-naked shots with various bits of strategically placed flora on Instagram, so he may have an edge with any red-blooded judge under 40.
At least that is the story we may need to comfort ourselves with later.
And no, before the thought even crosses your brain, don’t. I’m younger than you by ten years and there is no place on Instagram for my knees – much less my nipples.
I enjoyed our discussion about the need for carefully defining invasive plants with the aid of specific policy protocol to help prevent the tarring and feathering of invasive-adjacent suspects (no idea how we went down that rabbit hole). Though whether or not the general public would pay attention to pedantic topics like that when there are plants and nipples to be scrolled through, I don’t know.
I agree with you — too many people who should know better are free and loose with the term ‘invasive,’ and it has lasting ramifications on public perception of specific plants.
Forgot to tell you in our chatter, but yesterday I saw a post of Phytolacca americana (American Pokeweed) on an American ornithologist’s Instagram feed tagged with #invasiveplants and #invasivespecies. He probably meant to tag it #taprooteddevil or #aggressivepaininmyass, or even #thisbirdpoopstainslikehell, but nope, much better to evoke Voldemort and stick fallacious keywords in the brains of the poor lost souls that follow ornithology feeds to get their plant facts.
The other issue with the public getting so much of their information from broad ranging social media sources is that those sources happily and actively reach for global audiences when invasive issues are very much regional problems. My nandina ain’t the same as his nandina ain’t the same as her nandina, but we’re all looking at fire and brimstone posts of it “destroying the planet.”
Complex issues explained in reductionist terms. Not my favorite.
Anyway, also forgot to mention — thanks for the drought tolerant plant suggestions you named in your last letter. Noted. My Ligularia are on life support too (‘Othello’ and ‘Bottle Rocket’), but I was dismayed to see your Acanthus spinosus doing well as my A. mollis looks like hell.
I should explain the “dismayed.” I had an A. spinosus for five years and it never bloomed though it was quite healthy, so I viciously ripped it out in exchange for its cousin. Looks like I might have made a significant error. Lovely bloom spires now, but the leaves are much less robust and cannot handle this drought. The A. spinosus probably just needed a little more sun. Dammit.
We are really hurting out here. And in a shady valley there’s little point in trying to coax a Mediterranean palette to save the day. Last year the August/September drought was far enough along in the season to feel that most things could go dormant and cope (and I was right). This year it will just be death and more death. Officially not fun.
It’s hard to give the pond top ups, but necessary when it does things like this.
I was going to have a big plant nerd gathering here in September, but I am looking around at the crispiness and I don’t think I can afford the amount of Prosecco it will take to cloud the judgement of my judgiest friends. Mind you, they’re probably in the same boat. Perhaps I’ll reconsider and we’ll all just get very drunk and celebrate the blessed coming of winter.
You win some, you lose some. I am reminded of a rainy summer and autumn that followed a spring when I chose to put in nine ‘must have’ small trees. I spent the entire summer counting my lucky stars as they wiggled their toes in moist summer soils. This is what we must do – groan and whine during the tough times, but never forget that there are most likely some wins on the scoreboard too. So easy to forget the wins.
Before I sign off, you did a great job on your recent interview with Leslie Harris. Yes, that’s praise – I know you think it’s a trick. How do you always manage to sound so damned reasonable? If the world only knew the real Scott.
Speaking of which, I am NOT sitting next to you this time on the bus back from the big-dinner-and-too-much-to-drink fest in Asheville once again acting in loco parentis for Michele. I have my reputation to consider.
Remember this? Less said the better. Which is to say, pay me the money we talked about and I will say less, for the better.
Yours,
Marianne
P.S. I’m feeling a little nervous about being on stage with you at The Southern Garden Symposium in October to read letter excerpts when I know you’ll do everything in your power to upstage me. Can we do like the presidential debate and give a moderator the ability to turn off your mic?
Drought, Definitions, and Other Dilemmas: A Letter to The Midwest originally appeared on GardenRant on July 14, 2024.
The post Drought, Definitions, and Other Dilemmas: A Letter to The Midwest appeared first on GardenRant.
