Pots

Pots

      If you're not in a hurry to leave after visiting my azalea garden, we could wander over to the work area on the side, littered with pots.

      Not empty pots. Pots with azaleas, hosta and Japanese Maples. Pots with potential. Ladies in waiting. Some are for the future garden. Some don't make the cut because they're burdened with unattractive flowers. Some don't grow well, or they have few flowers, or they displease me (their master) for some inexplicable reason. Those pots become giveaways to visitors, put on the plant exchange table at club meetings, or exiled to Siberia (the far reaches of the yard where the soil is poor and my hose doesn't extend.) They will fend for themselves, surviving on the whim of the god of orphans. While I haven't composted any, that is still a threat I hold over their branches when they fail to justify themselves.

      After four or five years, they are keepers or are expelled. Keepers find a place in the garden, often replacing a plant I found inferior. Then I've got to find a place for the original owner of that plot. Musical chairs, played to the hum of mosquitoes.

      Potted plants face an array of dangers. They are always threatened with being tipped over by wandering critters. Looking for acorns or mice, the wild ones can tear out the whole plant and leave it gasping on the ground, roots exposed, hoping I'll notice and come to the rescue. Plants dry out faster in the pot than if they were in the ground. Being portable encourages moving them frequently, sometimes cracking the plastic.

      There are so many problems that one wonders why a better system hasn't been invented. Some think a better system is to take each plant out of the pot when it first comes home and plant it immediately. Good idea, except space is limited for most of us and we plant them really close together “temporarily.” Years later, the survivors are a tangled mess, cheek-by-jowl, impossible to separate. Yes, you've got me: I am speaking from personal experience.

Pots left in ground for years (not mine :) )

      I've seen gardens where the holes at the bottom of pots aren't for drainage but are escape routes for roots. Plants in pots can be decades old and the size of trees. My pots are often watered by submerging them in buckets of water, never getting to develop those huge root systems. Of course, one must remember to take them out of the buckets. Hmmm … yes, you've got me again: I am speaking from personal experience.

      Still, each year my plan is to give away many more pots than I take in and shrink the collection, easing the problems of watering in the summer droughts. And each year, people whose gardens I visit give me a bunch more. And I can't say, “No.” They are gifts. Of course, the same works in reverse, but I never seem to make progress toward my goal of having just a few to evaluate and care for.

      I'm sure that when they carry me out the house feet-first, a perfect plant will be waiting in vain for its master to come, drop it out of its plastic prison and into happy decades of life in a soft, moist bed, just outside the picture window. Will there be a Rescue Plant organization, screeching to a halt, sirens blasting, to save that doomed, perfect plant as I'm hauled away? I would start that organization, but then I'd end up caring for other's pots and there I'd be: watering even more and shrinking my collection backwards.