Killing with a purpose...

I am a killer.

I did it….I killed them.

There. I said it. It took a long time to admit it. After all, we’re supposed to GROW things, right? The garderner’s badge of honor…”oh, look at all the wonderful things he grows….Wow, this is amazing….” We grow reputations this way—often far out of proportion to our level of skill.

You don’t see the rest.

“Get rid of the corpses,” was one of the defining rules of public gardening at The New York Botanical Garden, as it is at ANY garden. The mass graves we euphemistically call compost heaps were convenient dumping grounds for our mistakes…and our serial first- degree intentional phytocide.

It wasn’t always this way. For years I tried to save anything that was even remotely alive—not discarding pots until the “ashes-to-ashes, dust-to-dust” cycle was complete. “Where there’s green, there’s hope,” was the mantra. When my avocation became my vocation, all that went out the window. Caring for plants professionally ended all the ‘feel good, I-can-save-it, aren’t I a responsible steward’ nonsense.

As you can imagine, performance, to no small degree, is based on how things look. A corner packed with plants 50% or more gone, a hospital bench full of critical care patients, or a sprinkling of ugly mugs amongst the living just won’t cut it.

Moreover, as with any other living thing (I hesitate to use children or elderly relatives for examples for fear that my comments will be misconstrued), the level of maintenance necessary to care for an ill or dying member of the clan is significantly higher than that for a healthy one; often well out of proportion to actual results achieved. (see what I mean). What we’re really talking about is Darwinian gardening—survival of the fittest.

Some plants just deserve to die. The sooner you learn it, the quicker you’ll become a better gardener. Other than plants of extreme rarity, those expensive to replace, and those with sentimental value that outweighs the effort required, you should get used to, nay MUST begin to kill.

The most obvious targets are those plants where diseases or pests have gone out of control. If treatment after treatment has failed and you can’t cut the damaged portions of the plant away to leave unaffected bits, KILL IT. That flat of Saintpaulia (African Violets) that got top watered when I was away? Crown rot. Even if it could be treated effectively, the plants would be disfigured and take a long time to recover. Harvest some good leaves for propagation and DUMP them.

Then there are the Kervorkian killings, plant euthanasia. You can spend hundreds and hundreds of dollars treating the ailments of a 75 year old birch that’s headed downhill. But guess what? Birch are not like oaks that live for hundreds of years, or Bristlecone Pines that ramble on for thousands. Like us they only have a life expectancy of 70 or 80 years. Hopefully, in full realization of this fact, you’ve got a strapping young replacement coming along, or have started cuttings, and you can CUT DOWN the elderly, terminal specimen when it becomes too unsightly.

Benign, and not so benign neglect is another reason to kill. It goes along with a separate justification—lack of interest. If you’ve got plants haning around that just don’t do anything for you anymore, GET RID OF THEM. Give them to someone who cares, or kill, kill, kill. Believe me, neglect will give you feelings of guilt sooner or later (as you watch your plants decline). Rather than deal with that angst, take care of the problem now.

It’s also a good time to kill when that next plant on your “lust list” comes along. We all have these lists, written or not, and NO plant is more desirable than the next one on the slate. Problem is, we don’t get more space when we get more plants. Solution? CULL the lesser desirable plants until you have the space you need. It’s killing with a purpose…but what could be more important when your heart’s desire has just shown up?

Finally, all seed sowers know the disappointment of setting up flats of pots and then having some imposter show up. Despite the best intentions of our fellow gardeners, seed is not always what it is labeled. Once you’ve determined that the seedlings are not the choice beauty you’ve been planning on, it’s time to decide what to do. Raising up seedlings is a time and labor intensive undertaking. It’s immensely satisfying when it works, but a disappointment when it doesn’t. Mislabeled seed generally doesn’t wind up being something BETTER than expected. Most of the time you’re stuck with a weedy, common thing that isn’t worth the trouble. Don’t call me a baby-killer now, but dump and run!

Once you’ve become an accomplished killer, an odd thing happens. It actually feels good. It is strangely liberating to sweep the benches clear of the diseased, old, undesirable or just plain ugly plants. An off-center sense of accomplishment pervades you and you’ll be filled with a quirky sense of peace.

Be ruthless. Horticulture is not a game for the faint of heart. It’s a life and death joust that you should win. Kill, my friend, and watch your garden life improve.

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