Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Roots, Fall, and Crispy Basil


So, my basil is dying.

Slowly.

It looks like a slow burning fire is starting on the outer tip of each big leaf and slowly consuming toward the center.


It's not an uncommon sight. Plants of mine have died before.



Do you remember the character of Elmira from baby Looney Toons?
The one with the baby rabbits and baby characters. I kinda do, but my memory may not be spot on.

I do remember an overly enthusiastic girl who continually finds any animal, rushes to it and loudly exclaims.

A NEW PET! 
I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER AND EVER. I WILL FEED YOU AND PET YOU AND TAKE YOU FOR WALKS.”

Holding it in a bone cracking hug.

All the while the unwilling creature is terrified and seeks the first chance to escape.

I'm like that with my plants sometimes...ok all the time.

I have a habit of taking plants that have been in the ground and transferring them into pots with the dream of them growing lush and huge.

It's a wonderful fantasy.

Living in a jungle of mint, lemon balm, basil, and rosemary. Having it greet me fresh in the morning, and whimsically plucking from each what I want for tea, or anything else I wish to make.

But there are a few differences between my dream and reality.

For example. Plants, especially ones that have lived long tracts of time (like their entire life) outside are very receptive to the stuff that happens out of doors.
Like temperature valleys and peaks.
The rhythm of getting cold at night and warming up during the day. 
Also the amount of sunlight makes a big difference.

It's amazing to me in the fall to see the trees changing color, and yet the day is still 70 degrees.

I want to yell at the trees, “Hey! It's still warm out, don't change yet. Cuz when you go, then it's winter!”

I'm not a huge fan of winter. But it's not the temperature that is dictating the color change, it's the decreasing sunlight.


Same thing for my little pot-bound plants.

Maybe my basil is just reacting to having less and less sun.
Maybe it's reacting to being next to a window pane, where the cold air seeps through the glass, sending chills down it's spine.
Or reacting to the cranky dragon-like radiator that sits right beneath it, exhaling bellows of desert hot heat.
Maybe that's killing it.

Or maybe it's something I haven't considered.

I've had a love affair with plants for a while now, but it's only fairly recently that I realize how vastly important a plants root structure is. Its the part you never see. So, naturally I don't think is very important.

When digging up plants, I used to take a shovel full of roughly equal to what would fit into my pot.

Disregarding the inches, feet, or miles of roots I may have left behind. I though that they can always be regrown once the plant realizes what a great little space it now has.

It's just logic, right?

Yes, I foolishly think that plants will reason and come around to my point of view. Instead of begrudging me about taking them from their homes, friends, family, and most important, their favorite TV shows.

This past summer I relocated a Sweet Woodruff plant.

Historically, Sweet Woodruff was dried and put in straw tick mattresses to keep the bugs away (think Citronella for a bed). Now-a-days it's used as a pretty ground cover under trees and other very shady areas.


The move was out from a sun bather's paradise to a shady spot.

I found him hiding among the Lungwort.

Although this little guy only stood above the ground about three to four inches, his root system connected him to another refugee brethren that I hadn't noticed before, as well as 5 other long roots spreading out in other directions.

I followed what I could, pulling up a chunk of the Lungwort while I was at it. 
Which sparked the philosophical debate if it was OK to kill a bunch of many in order to save a few of a few.

I relocated the 4 inch Sweet Woodruff, and it's long interconnected root system. Upon last checking, he's making modest growth in his new home!

Moving small plant with great consideration for it's root needs...success!

You would think I have learned, right? Even small plants have big roots.

And not so tiny plants can have phenomenal root systems!
Alfalfa roots can go amazingly deep into the soil. While some trees are sticking to the surface for collecting rainwater, Alfalfa is trekking deep into the depths of the unknown seeking the water table as well as minerals that other plants could only dream about.

For those who may not know, Alfalfa has 8 essential amino acids and the highest chlorophyll content of any plant, along with being rich in vitamins and minerals. It is a popular blood purifier and cure for inflammations, including rheumatism.*

So move aside gerbils, here I come! 
If only I can figure out how to make it taste better...

So I learned my lesson, right? Wrong, when this fall hit, and I dreamed of having some cheery lemon balm to knit away the winter hours with me.

I grabbed a shovel and roughly dug up about the same amount as what would fit into my pot.

Totally disregarding all roots I may have cut off. 
Roots that are responsible for the vast majority of the water, and mineral absorption of the plant.

So what I did was kinda like taping someone's mouth shut, and sticking their feet in a bucket of water. Explaining that what they need will be absorbed through the skin, that their mouth isn't really necessary for stuff like eating, drinking, and so on.

Needless to say, my Lemon Balm is looking a bit green around the gills as well.

Not only is it adjusting to the shock of having it's roots hacked off, and being in a temperature controlled, hyper dry environment.
It also is facing the rather annoying challenge of staying alive when it's rhythm says that it's time to sleep.
"Drop your leaves, go into your roots (you know the same one's I chopped off) and chill for a couple of months, you've been working hard all summer." says Mother Nature.
 

The last thing is nutrition.

In my naive potted plant owner state, I mistakenly believed that if you kept the soil fairly wet, it was enough for a plant to live and grow and thrive. I've gotten plants from the store with roots curling upon roots, or giant trees in small pots, and figured all they ever got was a watering when they needed it.

It wasn't until I read in a book, at a thrift store that said plants can survive in pots because you provide all their nutrition... WHAT?

I missed that part in plant parenting 101!

So this year I bought my first box box of Miracle Grow, and like putting make-up on for the first time. I awkwardly applied it to the plants as I gave them their regular drink.

Worrying all the time that I'm doing too much, or not enough, lopsided, or sneeze while I have the mascara in my hand, looking like I have a black eye.

I still don't know how much to give them. Considering my box recommends using it by the gallon, and I'm watering by the random cups of water.

Also in an effort to counteract the uncontrollable weather, the waning sun, and all the other things that I can't control. I water constantly in the winter time.
Constantly

Actually I water pretty obsessively all the time, but in the summer they need it.

In the winter, they don't. 
So in my effort to be helpful, I turn my plants into deep sea divers.


And still I wonder why my basil is dying.


If you have any tips for keeping plants alive over the winter. Please let me know.


May you take care of yourself happily

* I don't know everything, info taken from www.bulkherbstore.com catalog