The derecho in Houston last May snapped in half a tall tree that shaded my sister’s tiny Heights backyard. Miraculously, while it caused some damage, the broken tree didn’t take out the house, swimming pool, or patio seating on the way down. And now there’s a bonus silver — or should I say crimson? — lining. The garden has responded exuberantly to the dramatic increase in light with an explosion of fiery flowers and lush growth.

I visited last weekend and was captivated by a gorgeous Rangoon creeper vine (Combretum indicum) in full bloom. I’d never even noticed the vine before, which swags a wooden pergola above a fire pit patio. It was only ever green, as far as I can remember. But now it’s lush and full and dripping with clusters of fragrant red and pink flowers.

What a showboat!

The flowers start out white and then blush pink and finally red. You can have all three colors at once.

I’d always thought Rangoon creeper, a tropical Asian vine, would grow fine in Houston’s 9b hardiness zone but wouldn’t survive in Austin’s 9a. But I’m learning that it does grow in Central Texas and even survived Snowpocalypse for some Austin gardeners.

Does anyone reading this in Austin have personal experience with it? I am coveting.

Along the pool, firecracker fern (Russelia equisetiformis) sparkles with ember-like flowers — a beautiful contrast with the blue pool. A silvery blue agave — I’m not sure what kind — in a tall Corten pot echoes the blue water and makes a focal point across the pool.

The tree lost to the derecho stood behind the bumped out section of fence behind the agave. Now, unhampered by its shade, elephant ears on each side have exploded with growth. My sister says they didn’t even plant them — they just appeared. Y’all, Houston gardening is a whole different world from Austin gardening, thanks to significantly more rain (50 inches a year versus 36 inches) that’s more evenly doled out, plus a milder winter.

That’s not to say gardeners in Houston don’t have their weather challenges. They sure do: floods, hurricanes, heat waves, the occasional deep freeze, and even drought. Weather extremes are a fact of life for all of us everywhere now. But in my sister’s garden I was reminded that even amid devastating loss, life and nature and beauty find a way. Keep your eyes and heart open, friends.

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Digging Deeper

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