Since I have this blog and can keep a record of those pictures and plants, I can honestly claim that hydrangeas play a significant role in my gratitude. In order to create a formal scrapbook of my essays and photographs, many of which are of hydrangeas, I also chose to compile my book, Seeing Green: Life Learned In The Potting Shed.
However, it seems that I’m not the only one who has hydrangea envy. They take over the nurseries down here in the weeks before Easter and until shortly after Mother’s Day. When the potted hydrangeas with their full blooms came at the local box store where I used to work in the gardening section, I was in heaven. Customers would buy them in bulk, but they would always ask me if I had any information on hydrangeas growing in South Florida.
I tried to be as truthful as I could. I’d say, “I tend to think of them as unicorns. Although everyone has heard about someone who has observed one growing, no one has ever personally witnessed one. The best method to grow them, in my opinion, is as an annual, in a shaded location, and with a little luck.
My impression was that there was just as much chance of hydrangea growth in South Florida as there was of mandevilla or croton surviving the first frost up north. Alternatively put, plants marketed to rob gardeners of their money.
However, the truth was that I truly didn’t know, despite my belief that I should. The Great Hydrangea Experiment started when I paid $5 for a potted hydrangea on the sale rack that had one last, miserable blossom cluster before quitting my job at the box store in May 2018.
When I got home, I removed the dead flower heads and repotted it in a bigger pot with some decent soil. My strategy was to keep it well-hydrated, out of the Florida sun, and to observe while I waited.
The leaves burnt, curled, and dropped off all that summer and fall. Could the plant even be damaged by the filtered Florida sun? Had the grower forced the hydrangea to blossom, and its apparent death was only a case of it regrouping and going through its normal cycle?
I kept going, practically carrying the pot from morning sun to midday shade spots throughout the yard. When leaf buds eventually materialized, I was rewarded with a new rush of winter-ready green leaves in 2018.
Even though I kept looking for flower buds every day, despite my anticipation, none appeared. Did the plant require some winter cold to go into dormancy properly? I’d done that with hyacinth bulbs before by putting them in the fridge, but I didn’t believe a potted hydrangea would fit in the fridge. Oh, and Joe would probably not have agreed to the plan either, in my opinion.
I was at a turning point. A failure of The Great Hydrangea Experiment? Did it demonstrate that, although being able to grow in South Florida, hydrangeas couldn’t bloom and were, in fact, the unicorns of subtropical gardens? Should I throw the plant away or should I accept the fact that it is only a leafy hydrangea?
On October 12, 2019, a year and a half after I made my initial purchase, all of my answers surfaced.
a blossom! One tiny flower head, however it was a genuine hydrangea flower head!
A few things were demonstrated by My Great Hydrangea Experiment. First, while a leafy hydrangea would have made me happy, there is nothing that compares to the joy that a hydrangea bloom can bring. Like I did with my NY hydrangeas, I like seeing the subtle changes as the color develops, and I’m afraid I can’t stop taking pictures of it.
It also demonstrated that hydrangeas could flourish in South Florida with a lot of care, and I now have the photos to demonstrate this.