A Gardener's Guide to Cuba (Part 2)

When croton (Codiaeum variegatum) was introduced into the Lowcountry many years ago, I assumed that these outrageously colorful plants would run a short-lived course and then disappear. This is because gardeners seem to suffer from some sort of horticultural attention deficient disorder and, as a result, flit from one botanical fad to the next.

However, a lot of Charleston gardeners continue to replant croton each spring and eventually end up in yet another garden design rut. Please, no more croton commingled with bright orange Chinese hibiscus or—worse yet—snuggled next to a couple of vinca.

Poor croton. Like many other plants (privet and Japanese yew come to mind), it’s easy to turn them horticultural clichés. But just when I was about throw in the trowel over croton, I discovered a delightful ensemble of this tropical plant in a garden on James Island. Instead of mixing it with additional color, this croton was allowed to compliment a swath of established dark green shrubbery. Doing so made green hues, as well as textures, come alive. Plus, it gave croton the chance to become a point of interest instead of a gaudy distraction.

No matter my opinion on the frequent ill treatment of croton, I’ve always wanted to see it in its full glory. My recent trip to Cuba finally afforded me this opportunity.

Grown as an annual in USDA Hardiness Zones lower than 10b in the US—because the first frost promptly turns it to toast—the croton we know never grows much taller than 3 feet, perhaps 5 if you’re lucky. But because this Indian and Malaysian native loves year-round megadoses of heat and humidity, it feels at home in the southern regions of Florida and Cuba where it’s not uncommon to see 12-feet tall specimens. But guess what? Croton is shrub du jour in Havana and is rarely given much design consideration. It looks just as silly as it does at home.

But with that said, there is nothing more spectacular than coming upon mass of yellow, green, orange and burgundy leaved croton growing with seemingly wild abandon on a steep Cuban hillside.

 The above photos were taken at the Soroas Orchid Garden, which is situated in Cuba’s most western province, Pinar del Río.

 

 Text and photos are copyrighted by PJ Gartin; all rights reserved.

A Gardener's Guide to Cuba (Part I)

I recently returned from a ten-day excursion to Cuba. Yep, Cuba—like in Ricky Ricardo, cigars, Babalu and mile after mile of tropical flora. Although one still can’t take a spur-of-the-moment flight to Havana's José Martí International Airport just yet—because the US embargo is far from over—I traveled with a group organized by Magnolia Plantation and Gardens.

Our purpose was somewhat horticultural, but mostly agricultural because Cuba is still trying to figure out how to feed her city dwellers (seventy-five percent of the island's population is urban) without using industrially manufactured fertilizers or pesticides. However, the politics of hunger will have to wait until later because my photo files are overflowing with an amazing array of ornamentals.

Flamboyant tree (Delonix regia) is ubiquitous in Cuba. This tree's USDA Hardiness Zone rating is 9b–10a, which means that it will cheerfully grow in Miami or the Florida Keys. However, it is not common in South Carolina Lowcountry landscapes because most of us garden in chillier zones 8b or 9a. (By the way, Cuba's USDA Hardiness Zone ratings are 11a and 11b, which means that their coldest winter temperature rarely, if ever, falls below 40º F.)

If you don't live in Florida, yet can't resist wrapping your green thumbs around a Flamboyant tree, you'll probably have to drag a containerized version into your house during cold weather. But with that said, Tom Johnson, Executive Director at Magnolia Plantation and Gardens, which is located about 12 miles northwest of peninsular Charleston, SC, has one planted on the property. Although a hard freeze always kills Magnolia's Flamboyant tree to the soil-line each winter, it rebounds and becomes a flowering shrub during the summer months.

Flamboyant tree's blossoms are orchid-like.

Cubans use dried Flamboyant tree pods to make maraca-like instruments, and local arts and crafts folk sometimes paint and dress them up to resemble children’s dolls.

This photo was taken from inside a moving bus. We were on our way to Viñales, a small town west of Havana, located in the north-central province of Pinar del Río. The hillsides were dotted with Flamboyant trees.

 Leaves are reminiscent of ferns, especially the Southern shield fern, which is found throughout the southeast.

Don't expect to see exceptionally large pods like these in Carolina gardens. Cuba has a much longer growing season because it never freezes.

For more information about growing Flamboyant tree in the southeast US, go to http://okeechobee.ifas.ufl.edu/News%20columns/Royal.Poinciana.htm

Text and photos are copyrighted by PJ Gartin; all rights reserved.