Trying to grow oranges on the moon.

This is a family tradition. My mother, raised in Detroit, traveled on Route 66 all the way to Los Angeles in the 1950s. She left the snowy winters behind, trading them in for beaches and sunshine. But she missed the lilacs and like so many others that moved across the world to new climes, she tried to bring her memories of home with her. So she planted Eastern lilacs in the California soil. They wouldn’t bloom without bags of ice dumped around their roots. But that was a mere inconvenience and every year those lilacs got their winter ice straight from the store.

I have tried to grow hydrangeas in the desert, lavender in drained swampland, poppies on the short grass prairie, and birch trees far from any stream. Oddly enough, I did grow oranges just right in that drained swampland. I fought the slugs of Western Washington state for strawberries and lost of course. I still retain nightmarish memories of slug-filled cat food tins from the strawberry battles of Snohomish County. Through battle after battle nature usually won. Even when I could hold my own, after I left the gardens would vanish. With time, I accepted my limitations while refusing to admit total defeat.

It can be difficult to know what will thrive in a new place. Where I am now, has had so many species introduced to the area since the Spanish arrived that it can be challenging just to remove enough of the harmful invasive plants in order to make space for the natives. We’re all so used to idealized, and homogenized, landscapes that the native plants are disappointing. We’re sold plants that don’t belong in our environment and the people selling them to us have no incentive to do otherwise. We want what we want whether nature agrees or not.

After years of trying to have what I thought I should have instead of trying to have what I could have, it’s time for a different path. I am bringing in native plants as much as I can while still fighting the invaders. Although the native plants can seem like weeds with their smaller flowers and dull colors, they survive without extra water and the influx of native bees has been good to see. That Marionberry in the big pot on the patio? Shhhhhh I know I know. That’s why it’s in a pot. Maybe it will have some berries this year.