Camellia

When we first moved into our home in July of 2006, the first thing I did with my garden was dig up every single rose in the front yard. It was painful, and not just because of the thorns. The idea of killing plants from your garden, it's a hard thing to do. It was my mom who managed to talk me through it, and take out the sting. "Sometimes you have to be brutal, Megan." she told me. "If a plant has got to go, then rip it out. You have to do what's best for your garden, even if it means killing a plant." And boy, did those roses ever need to go. I don't know much about roses, but I do at least know they're not supposed to be an all-you-can-eat buffet for Japanese beetles. Nor are they supposed to grow a single stem that's 12 feet long.

Of course removing the eyesore roses left a big hole in my flowerbed. A big hole. One that needed a plant with about an 8-10 foot spread, and an ultimate height that could reach up to 15-20 feet. A little bit of research in a general gardening book pointed me in the direction of Camellias. Hey, Camellias, those grow here, great. Oh, they bloom in wintertime too? Even better. So I rushed out as soon as October came around to my local nursery, knowing only I wanted a Camellia.

The plant I purchased was a 2-year Camellia japonica "Professor Sargent". All I cared about at the time was that it was red, and in my price range. It wasn't until I got it home and planted that the paranoia set in. For you see, that was when I actually started doing research on the purchase I'd made- still to this day the single most expensive plant in my garden.

Oh crud, camellia don't like wet feet, and need air on their roots? Better dig it up and replant it slightly elevated. While I'm at it, I'd better fertilize it. Hmm, needs a fertilizer for acid-loving plants, I can do that. Oh dear, camellia don't like noonday sun, and the spot it's in gets just that kind of sun. Oh God I'm going to kill this plant, aren't I?

The camellia has given me my best garden lesson yet: most times, unless you really mess up, the plant will still be fine. And even if it's not, it won't die overnight. There's always time to fix your mistakes, as long as you're looking out for any.

Turns out that, despite the issues with sun and drainage, my camellia did just fine. Spring of 2007 it put out a massive amount of new growth, and by the end of that summer the plant had its first flowerbuds. Sure, the leaves have a touch of sunscald, but other than diminished appearance to the outermost leaves the plant seemed to be doing just fine.

I had a prolonged period of grace while watching the buds on the camellia swell. It wasn't until about early December that I started to worry. It still hadn't bloomed. Why hasn't it bloomed? What's taking so long? Once again, I turned to the internet, and found only worry. Did I fertilize it at the right time? What if it has bud scale mites? Do I even have the camellia I though I did? Once again, my worries were unfounded.


It was worth the wait. Turns out that the Professor Sargent blooms at the very end of the Camellia season, which here in Virginia seems to be about mid-March. A lot later than I'd expected, and although admittedly it throws off some of my garden concepts a bit, once it bloomed I just didn't care anymore. I now understand why there are entire societies and shows dedicated just to this one plant.



Best part of all? The flowers smell just like sweet tea. No wonder it's a Southern favorite.