My First Plant Memories

The first plant that I remember wasn't beautiful, anything that you would ever want grow in your garden, or even alive.

It was an invasive weed brought to the U.S. by accident in a shipment of Ukrainian flax seed to South Dakota in 1877, or at least that is the story you often hear. I'm talking about the plant that by the mid-1950's had become emblematic of the high plains, the tumbleweed. It was 1958 we were living in Monahans, Texas. We moved every two years or so as my father, a civil engineer, constructed electrical power plants that was occurring across the nation - trying to keep up with the rapid growth in electricity demand in post-World War II baby-boom America.

My parents would have preferred to have lived in Midland (where oil company executives lived) or even Odessa (where oil roughnecks lived) but there was housing shortage and we weren't staying long, so they had to settle for shotgun shack in less attractive Monahans. Years later in high school I'd have a friend that was also from the area. She described the area as so barren that people often mistook the 3 trees in their front yard as a roadside park and they would regularly chaise away the picnickers. My mother would recollect that if it didn't have thorn on it, it wouldn't grow in Monahans.

Our House in Monahans, Texas 

Tumbleweeds piled against a wall

Anyways back to tumbleweeds and my first plant memory. In the fall, when the winds from the northwest would blow, dead tumbleweeds break free of their roots and roll across the high plains to spread their seeds. They invariably ended up coming to rest against anything that stopped them, such as fence or the side of a house. So one of my earliest memories was my father setting the tumbleweeds 'free' to continue rolling before they dropped all of their seeds against the side of the house.

Me and my brother inside the Shasta camper

Fortunately, my parents (neither from Texas) knew there was more to be seen in the southwest than endless horizons, frightening hail storms and oil wells. They bought a Shasta trailer-camper and on long weekends and our annual two-week car vacation we’d head off to see the sights. The only trip that I remember was to Yosemite. We visited the Mariposa grove and like everyone else drove through the Wawona Tree - a giant Sequoia that had a tunnel cut through the middle back in 1881. The trailer got stuck and dad deflated the tires on the trailer to fit it through the tree. Sadly, the Wawona tree fell in a 1969 storm.

Wawona Tree in the 1950s - We had a similar green Chevy - see photo above

So, my first two plants memories represent polar opposites in the world of Horticulture. One became the emblem of how “civilization” forever changed the high plains; the other became the emblem of the Sierra Club and America’s attempt to save natural landscapes for future generations.

Luckily, our stay in west Texas was short lived and my encounters with plants would improve dramatically over the years; until today being fortunate enough to live in wonderfully horticulturally diverse Southern California. My horticultural experiences will get better than tumbleweeds.