You would hardly believe that the petunia could be a close relative of the potato, tomato, and tobacco, but it is a fact. Petunia is also the proper name for it, which makes it one of those lucky plants that is well known everywhere because its ‘proper’ name is attractive and very easy to remember. Its French origin petun, means tobacco, and the petunia comes from South America just like the tomato and potato and tobacco, and all of them have more or less the same aroma if you crush the leaves. One species of petunia found in Ecuador is said to induce a sense of being able to fly or levitate if eaten, but of course it is grown for its beauty rather than its hallucinogenic properties. I’ve never come across it however. The petunias I am growing at present don’t exactly make you want to fly, but they do give my spirits a lift when I see them outside the front door every morning. The ones that are in full bloom in October are planted as small flowering plants in February, and usually last for over eight months. Quite a few nurseries (and one I know particularly well on the West Bank) sell petunias, and they are worth every cent you spend on them.
All gardeners learn over time that there is no rushing mother nature. She will produce in her own good time, or produce not at all. She can be one of your most implacable enemies or one of your greatest friends. The real art in gardening is not to worry, which is easier said than done, and an extremely irritating view for those of us who are natural worriers! Most of us have lifted rooting cuttings in full leaf to see how much root they’ve produced after several weeks, only to find they’ve not produced any at all. All of us expect to produce prizewinners only to find that they are not so good after all. Every one of us has tried to take the short cut instead of the well tried path to success, and every one of us could exercise more patience than we actually do. The challenges of heavy clays, drying sands, a garden right on the coast or in a completely exposed position, or even just getting the right plant in the right place can make gardening a right royal pain and try anyone’s patience. They can also make gardening one of the most rewarding pursuits we have.
This small philosophical introduction to this week’s piece was induced by a particular task of finding a suitable place for several large specimens of a very beautiful plant called Alpinia zerumbet variegata, the variegated shell ginger. This is one of the great members of the ginger family that will lighten up any border because of its variegated foliage, growing well in sun or shade, and as far as my experience goes, equally well on light or heavy soils. The variegated shell ginger grows to about three feet or slightly more in height, and just as wide when growing well. It is the kind of plant to which most people will give a high rating. In other words it’s worth the space. It is, alas, not readily available, although several outlets now offer it. I suspect that it will not come cheap, but believe me it’s worth that little extra. I have created a special bed for it in a place which is shaded for most of the day by a mango tree which supports a Rangoon Creeper. The soil was prepared particularly carefully. This means that it was cultivated to a depth of 12 inches, and a great deal of compost added to give the plants a shot in the arm as it were. This preparation is excellent work for those ladies who wish to exercise, and for ladies who wish to exercise their husbands without bringing on a heart attack. The watchwords for digging of all kinds are slow and easy. This particular area of the garden is very well drained so the compost will act as a sponge and water reservoir for the developing roots. You should be so lucky, and may your God go with you.
