Parch and Swell: A Lyrical Recollection
My first garden coach was Nana in New Jersey, from houseplants to roses. African Violets and Pathos softly lined her windowsills and shelves. Only, one plant had menacing spikes surrounding the stalk and rangey stems, and tiny pink rosettes, ‘Crown of Thorns’. In time, I learned its genus and species: Euphorbia millii, a Succulent of African origin, and the interplay of structure and adaptive function; how plants evolve to environment.
I was twenty when I noticed the diversity of succulent plants in a variety shop in Albany, lined up under violet lights, arrayed in tiny plastic pots, and I could choose just one: ‘Peanut Cactus’ Echinopsis chamaecereus. I returned for others. I grew them on and propagated the forgiving succulents.
My eventual occupation, planting design, naturally came to combining plants in containers. Unique, and beautiful to my eye, I blended complimentary shapes, sizes, textures, colors, and those of like culture. I observed that shallow root systems readily collect surface moisture, that fleshy stems hold water, that ribs and undulating surfaces expand with available water, and I learned that spines are modified leaves designed to shade, adjust humidity and airflow, and repel predators. All members of Cactaceae, the cactus family, are succulents equipped by structure to survive extremities of heat and drought in Central and South America, and East Africa, and to adapt to container culture.
Transplant succulent plants from plastic into a porous medium in a well-draining pot, whether clay or ceramic or root and stem succumb to rot.
I've mixed a portland cement and peat composite to create hypertufa pots and troughs. Shaped around a bowl, a disused wok, or poured into a frame made of a cardboard box within a box, then dried and air-cured, with a hole for drainage, their porosity makes these homemade containers ideal for succulents, planted in a substrate of builders’ sand, perlite, pumice, or chicken grit mixed with a little organic matter, minimal moisture, mimicking drought.
A trickling stream runs over crags and fissures, gently splashes through the diminutive stone cascade patio feature, diffusing dew-like mist. Here, out of direct sun, I've set potted Haworthia and Euphorbia species and hybrids, succulents that appreciate a bit of shade in the heat, ambient moisture, and the tempered air of this tiny ecosystem.
Meanwhile, the rest of my motley collection is happy to bake in the afternoon blaze. When close to desiccation, they regain girth and turgor with liquid life from my hose. Then, they may reward me with the bright color of their starlike blooms. If rain persists, I allow them to drain under an eave. It’s a diverse ecology, an eclectic niche, a garden unified by an analogous need to both parch and swell. We all thirst and quest, and no matter our origins, we try our best.
Sampling of my Succulents
An early version of Parch and Swell was published in ‘The Remember Arts Journal' several years ago. Thank you, Elise.
© Mary Ellen Gambutti
This is beautiful. Thank you!
I didn't realize there were that many succulent varieties and that they require a certain type of pot! I'm not the best green thumb so I admire your work.