Truth be told - I'm in over my head, in the garden. Yet, outdoor planting helped sustain me during the recent pandemic. During this tedious time, I became enmeshed in one of my favorite books, "Flora of Louisiana," featuring the watercolor drawings of Margaret Stones - inspiration for planting and writing.
My columns were accompanied by photographs of not only camellias (my favorite, though not native to Louisiana) but also flowers at our farm which I captioned as 4 o' clocks. Then, the call came from friend Rita Clayton. We chat from time to time so I didn't think anything of it. But she eventually wound around to the matter at hand - what she really wanted to tell me. Those "4 o' clocks," a generous gift from our late Mama Dell Clawson, were not 4 o' clocks at all. They are what is known locally as naked ladies. Learning something every day, I found their official Latin name to be Amaryllis belladonna L. and a photograph proving Ms. Rita right.
If only I paid heed to the number one mantra for writers - write what you know. Instead, I adhere to the words of heroine Katherine Hepburn: "If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun." So, here I am digging into unfamiliar ground. Since the early days, flowers have taken root in Washington Parish soil. Our ancestors had talent - growing, cutting, arranging, and enjoying. That last part is my forte but more on that later.
Newspaper clippings from the files of Dr. T. C. W. Magee, courtesy of my cousin and his daughter Margaret Magee Joffrion, revealed that by the mid-twentieth century, interest was kindled in the development of a flower industry in the state of Louisiana. It was to rival California and Florida's, so said Professor Ira Nelson of the Southwestern Louisiana institute in Lafayette in a special to "The Times-Picayune." In the article, he recognized our soil variety, superior temperature scale, sufficient rain, and good labor which in no small part resulted in interest in our bucolic area. It came as no surprise that there was talk of commercial development of the flower industry, not just in the state of Louisiana but specifically in our parish.
Dr. T. C. W. Magee was one of those interested in the commercial development of flower growing in Washington Parish, much like roses were grown in a certain area of Texas - where coincidentally I have dropped a pretty penny on antique roses. As I have mentioned heretofore, Dr. T. C. W.'s passion for camellias was reflected in his own collection, one of the most fabulous presentations in these parts. The news article I read also recognized Philip Cary as one of the growers in the Bogalusa area who had already successfully embarked on a commercial flower-growing endeavor.
Present-day, the Louisiana native iris caught my eye in "The Era-Leader" where our local expert Dr. Mary Helen Ferguson, the LSU Agricultural Agent for Washington Parish, published a most interesting column on the Louisiana iris in December of 2020. She identified five species of Louisiana iris, with hybrids, including I. brevicaulis (zigzag iris), I. hexagona (dixie iris), I. giganticaerulea (giant blue iris), Iris fulva (copper iris), and iris x nelsonii (Abbeville iris).
Having planted Louisiana iris at our farm in the fall of 2020 - my maiden flight with iris - I took note. The first three listed are purplish and yellow, what Dr. Ferguson referred to as LSU colors. The copper iris is rusty red while the Abbeville iris sports a variety of colors. Naturally suited to our climate, the Louisiana iris enjoys wet areas which we have plenty of in Washington Parish.
It was dear friend and horticultural pioneer Margie Yates Jenkins (1921 - 2020), founder of Jenkins Farm and Nursery, who helped me understand the importance of our native plants. Nationally and internationally famous for her work in the plant and flower industry, Ms. Margie told me, "All my people had always loved flowers." Her mother Camille grew flowers with annuals, hollyhocks, and touch-me-nots among them. Ms. Margie had a penchant for unusual plants and also for old and native plants - her province. She explained, "Our native plants had been overlooked." But not by her.
Ms. Margie and my mother - also Margie (Brumfield Ellzey) - were the best of friends. Hand in glove, they went way back. Relying on her friend Margie's sage advice, Momma spent endless hours in our yard, cultivating flowers and plants for some fifty years at our home, down on the Enon Road. Awash in memories, I regret not paying more attention. But thankfully, Ms. Margie's great-niece Katie Jackson Lee - an expert in gardening and horticulture - assists and advises me.
While a novice at growing, I seize the opportunity to enjoy the end product - cutting garden blooms, native or not, and arranging them willy-nilly. Proof of the value of everyday pleasures. For camellias which are full-bodied, I fix them in either a cache pot or the cut glass bowls of my mother's silver epergne. But it doesn't need to be fancy; the flowers do the talking. With the abundant flora in local gardens, the sky is the limit for us all.
•Stay tuned for the continuation of this series, when the real talent appears.
