Adapting to a Phoenix Garden: Desert Reality Check (Day 6)

We were walking through a beautiful nursery — the kind where most of the plants are way out of our price range — with friends visiting from the Northeast. They love plants, so we wanted to show them things they’d never see at home. Pistachio trees. Kumquats. Limequats. Ponytail palms that were six feet tall instead of sitting on a windowsill.

As we wandered, I overheard an employee telling a customer that their plants were “Arizona-adapted, not like what you’d get from…”
I stopped listening at that point. It sounded too much like a sales pitch.

We sampled ripe kumquats when the staff invited us to try them. I was told they have much less sugar than other citrus, and now that I’ve tasted one, I can confirm that’s true. I think they could do with a touch more, but that’s just me.

Two days ago, while the temperature was 107°F, my daylilies arrived. Technically, yes, it is the appropriate time of year to plant daylilies. But the weather doesn’t pay attention to the calendar. Just because we’ve decided to call this day the spring equinox doesn’t mean we can’t have an excessive heat warning.

The box instructed me to unwrap immediately.
Today? And do what with them?

If I planted them, they’d shrivel and die.
If I left them in the box, they’d shrivel and die.
If I soaked them too long, they’d get soggy roots – and die.

And then the words came back to me: Arizona-adapted.

I remembered how, back home, spring temperatures were cooler than what my indoor seedlings were used to. I hardened them off painstakingly — all those little pots, in and out, one hour at a time. Watching the weather like a hawk to make sure they could handle whatever the outdoors threw at them.

The light bulb went off.

If my seedlings needed to adapt slowly to being colder than they were used to, then even grown plants need time to adapt to being in hotter, brighter conditions than they were used to.

This was one of those moments when I felt my brain might have caught on a bit more quickly.

So the daylilies went into a single pot, to be wheeled in and out of the garage for a few hours at a time until they can take it.

I’m also using these in the Hygge Garden. There’s drip irrigation in the front and back yards, but neither system extends to the courtyard. Maybe one day we’ll get one installed, but for now I need to figure out watering. I’m hoping self-watering raised beds will limit evaporation, buy me a grace period if I can’t get myself to water on schedule, and let me roll the bed to a shadier spot if the weather demands it. Or even a drier one if we get a few wild days during monsoon season.

Monsoon — a very exotic word to a Northerner. More on that another day.

I’m learning that I’m going to be laughing at myself a lot if this endeavor is going to have any success. Even Humphrey feels like he’s laughing at me sometimes (or is just disappointment — it’s hard to tell with that expression). I don’t like dead plants, but I do like laughing, so it sounds like I’m in for a great time.

“Lord, what fools these mortals be!”

-A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Once more unto the breach,
🌿 Ruby