Seven Year Itch

Seven years can be a long time in the life of a plant.

Working backwards, six years prior, the opuntia cluster shown in the photo below (to the right of the pink periwinkles), had dutifully grown from a single pad. That pad arrived one year prior, after spotting a pile of "Free - Help Yourself" spineless opuntia at the curbing in a neighbor's yard.  I took a few paddles home and placed each one on the soil where I thought a mature clump of opuntia would eventually provide structure and interest.

In several spots, including alongside our driveway, I had to create growing space on the soil for the pads by clearing away pre-existing ground covers originally planted decades ago by the previous owners.  I wondered, would the cactus take hold quickly enough to compete?  I know now I need not have worried - the opuntia rooted and easily held its ground.

Looking west, six years ago.

Fast forward to late last year, at some point between the departure of Halloween porch pumpkins and the arrival of holiday door wreaths. Gazing out with a critical eye I abruptly realized: the appearance of that opuntia had become jarring.  After the most recent replacement of asian jasmine and vinca major with native perennials of varying sizes and the easing in of additional rocks and gravel to further delineate the open spaces created, the cactus wasn't working.

The thick pads of the opuntia were now too much, too weighty looking, too close to the drive.  A natural curve had developed to follow the sun and drip line under overhanging oak trees, and the opuntia was fighting that curve.  My mind was made up.  It simply had to go.

The same space in a photo taken in early October of 2014

And yet I hesitated.  How easy would it be to remove an established opuntia cluster with its woody base and multiple "stems"?  This variety is designated "spineless" but that is a misnomer.  These cacti sport stealth spines on every pad.  There were other perennial plants growing in close proximity to consider. Would I be able to dig out the opuntia without tearing up everything growing around it?

There was only one way to find out.  Enticed by the prospects of a warm and sunny afternoon, I grabbed my trusty shovel, (dubbed "sprinkler killer" by my Hub after multiple wire cuttings) and headed out to do some experimental heave ho-ing.  To my surprise and delight the opuntia popped right out of the shallow soil, leaving only the slightest of indentations.

The cacti cluster had one several foot long root growing horizontally back through the ground covers that required a little extra teasing out.  As is frighteningly typical, after pulling out that root, the surface of the jasmine closed seamlessly back over the opening created, rendering it invisible. Asian jasmine is scary stuff, folks.  But that's a story for another day. Overall the opuntia removal was painless. For the gardener, at least.

The same area, January 2015.  I took out the opuntia.  Freezing weather took care of the rest.

Without the visual interruption of that chunky opuntia, the negative space recently enlarged along the driveway's edge works much better as both a contrast to and a lead in towards the multi-layered xeric plantings growing just beyond. I'll pull out more of the jasmine later (as I do every year), and as temperatures warm this spring, I'm hopeful native wildflower seed previously scattered will germinate, flourish, and bloom, attracting appreciative glances and pollinators both.

I work hard to support the plants growing here and even with species that are easily propagated I do not take the removal of an established native lightly. That said, at times the best addition made to a garden space can actually be a subtraction.