More Santa Fe Anomalies

Marsha and I knew before we moved from central Connecticut to northern New Mexico that the rules of gardening would be quite different.  Less available water begets plants that can survive drought.  Those that can’t...don’t.  But it wasn’t until we bought our house with its modest amount of southwest landscaping that we began to realize just how far apart the horticulture of the “Land of Steady Habits” and “The City Different” really was.

Although we are still not totally certain what we have, we believe that the planted portion of our property contains: several lavender plants; a Wisteria vine; two rose bushes (one dead, one on life support); a Russian Olive bush; a small bed of Daisies with dried up heads so we don’t know what kind; a Chuparosa (or so I have convinced myself based upon a photo and write-up in a house-warming gift-book – and by the persistent appearance of hummingbirds at the red flowers as the book describes); several randomly placed hollyhocks; a maple tree; two aspens; and one locust tree whose multiple sucker offspring we have had a local arborist remove (“hunt and kill” per their bill); plus several varieties of what we choose to call (for lack of a more knowledgeable term) small desert flowers, aka :”sdfs” (some purple, some yellow).

But here is where the yin and yang polarity of northeast and southwest comes into the picture.  At our new residence – excluding the hapless roses, which we will probably remove, and perhaps the daisies, which may turn out to be a high desert variety – the native plants that we have apparently do not want to be watered.  In some cases it is actually bad for them.   And, in an unfamiliar environment, I am not one to mess with Mother Nature!

The trees on the other hand are practically hydro-holics.

“You should be watering the maple and aspens, long and deep, once a month,” J the arborist told us while he was writing the death warrant estimate for our unwanted locust forest.

“Place the hose here” – he pointed to the outer edge of the roots as he laid the nozzle down at the three o’clock position – “set it for the slowest possible trickle.  And leave it there for an hour or so.” Furthermore we were told we should water the thirty-minute spot the same way next month – thirty days later at 9:00 – and so forth around the base – etc., for ever and ever.

Back where we came from, other than newly planted ones, trees were basically left on their own to hydrate as they saw fit.  In northern New Mexico they are evidently as desperate for a drink as a drunk trapped in a dry town.

In an earlier essay I explained how I now was removing blades of grass from our natural desert backyard with the same gusto that I “hunted and killed” any invasive dandelions and other weeds back in Connecticut.

Now I am watering trees.

And so it goes.