The story of our sexy sago palm created a lot of buzz. This showy palm, a native of Japan, stretched forth its fruitful fronds for years on our patio. Then, it up and died.
Well, almost!
What happened: Late last year, I was hoping to report to you the second flowering of our backyard bombshell, but the palm failed to launch another season. Hereβs what I said back then:
Early fall each year, the sago palm bush on our patio has burst forth with fresh foliage. This year our sago palm developed scale on the bulb and fronds, requiring Neem oil spray treatments. I wrote about the disappointment on a blog post last October.
So, we held our breath this year, hoping the palm would revive and develop a bulb.
Hallelujah!
With the approach of spring this year, we saw a tiny bulb develop in the middle, a sign of life. I was able to track its steady progress over a period of weeks:
***
A few days ago, I rediscovered a letter from my Aunt Ruthie Longenecker dated 1971. In it she describes her joy over gardening: tasting the fruits of the earth, but also mentioning the labor and setbacks involved.
Change in Seasons
Frances Hodgson Burnett, author of The Secret Garden, tells of the story of Mary Lennox, a neglected and unhappy orphan, who is sent to live with her uncle, Mr. Craven, at a gloomy Yorkshire manor. On the estate, Mary enters a locked garden and becomes determined to explore and revive it. Maryβs outlook is transformed as she and her friend Colin discover the magic of gardening along with the restorative powers of nature.
My sago palm, Ruthie’s garden, and Hodgson’s secret garden prove that change is
constant–and cyclical. It strikes me that our lives are much like that, changing,
always changing. As much as we would like good things to stay the same, and bad
things disappear, real life offers both.
Points to Ponder, Beyond Gardening
βNever doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed, citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.β
βΒ
Β Β
For I am theΒ Lord,Β IΒ changeΒ not; therefore, ye sons of Jacob are not consumed.

Green trees like fret-work
Lattice against the blue sky
Lake-side sentinels
Β© MLB
Whatβs in your garden?
What changes have you had to adapt to these days?
Β
Good morning, Marian! I’m glad your palm seems to have recovered.
I love gardens, but I do not enjoy gardening. π
You capture garden photos on your morning walks very well. I suppose you can leave the weeding to the gardeners. And you cook up lots of goodies in your kitchen too, including luscious poetry every day. Thanks, Merril!
You’re welcome, Marian.
Unfortunately, we have no gardeners at our house! Poor Doug gets stuck doing most of it.
I am so pleased to hear that your Sago Palm has a second lease of life, Marian its funny how nature rebounds and sprouts up again….I have a lime tree that has never fruited as it has always been the target of asphids and other bugs I was always spraying it with neem…She then started to grown nicely but was in the way of the gates when they opened so I decided to let hubby cut it back and move her this was her 4th move from pot to bigger pot and then to the garden and now once again we moved her she didn’t like it and all her leaves dropped and the branches turned brown howeveri I have been watering her faithfully for the last 9 months and lo and behild she is making new leaves and so far has not been attacked and needed the help of neem so fingers crossed this part of the garden will be her final move and she will reward me with some beautiful limes…Time will tell…
Keep watering and soon you may have limes for luscious recipes, Carol. I admire your persistence–in the kitchen and in writing. π
Hi Marian I do hope so I am nothing if not tenacious at times…lol
Very tenacious–and so creative! π
Thank you, Marian x
How wonderful that the Sago Palm has had a new lease on life!! Thanks for not giving up on it. I love nursing a plant back to life to bloom again. And how wonderful to read Aunt Ruthie’s letter. I only do flower pot gardening here but my pots are looking healthy and colourful this year. They make me happy.
Like you, I do mostly pot gardening on my patio, but the sago palm would be too large and unwieldy for this. Thanks for sharing your plant happiness here. It occurs to me now that we both started out as country girls–ha! π
Exactly!! π
Your palm looks much better! My brother and sister-in-law had theirs removed. It was in poor health. Yours looks great!
The Secret Garden is such a good book. Love the verse you quoted! As for change, I celebrated another birthday, so that is a change! πππ
As a regular reader, you know this same palm looked sickly last year at this time.
I hope I have already wished you a Happy Birthday. If not, here is a belated one, L. Marie! π
Thank you, Marian! My birthday was April 26. I haven’t posted in a while. I will hopefully post on Friday.
I have a type of desert palm that my sister gave us when we moved into our retirement home 17 years ago. It was only a foot tall and is now taller than I am. It requires next to no care just some water every once in a while. The Secret Garden has always been a favorite of mine!
Here’s to plants like the desert palm with stature and longevity. I have a potted bamboo plants that requires very little, just a dash of water every so often. Thanks for always joining the conversation here, Elfrieda! π
I need to learn something from that palm. I’ve had a rough winter and my physician’s assistant and I have ideas for how to rev up my fatigue so I can grow another bulb of energy and balance. I haven’t given up yet, but I am taking a long rest from blogging and photography. My garden has many tubers planted, thanks to my son, and I have seeds and will start greens indoors today. It was a cold winter and now we’re having a cool spring, so the weather doesn’t inspire a gardener. Blessings to you, Marian,
I’ve missed you, Elaine, and am happy to see you here once again.
I’m glad your son has had the foresight to plant tubers. I’ll pray for your restoration to health and warm, sunny days ahead. Blessings to you too! ((( )))
As a girl I had a copy of The Secret Garden, but could never get into the story. It languished on my book shelf. Seems odd considering how I’ve come to enjoy gardening as an adult, but as a kid… π₯±
Thank goodness that you and I can turn over a new leaf, just as our plants do. Here’s to a bountiful garden this year, Ally! π
Everybody likes a comeback story. It’s pretty cool that this letter resurfaced and reminded you that your aunt shared the gardening passion.
My wife loves her plants. We have a large deck where she maintains an array of beautiful flowers and greenery. She does all the work. All I do is occasionally move one of her heavy planters around when she wants to rearrange things or I stain the deck. She went back for a month to help out with our grandson. My job was to take care of the dog, our house, and her plants. I’ll admit I did not want to screw that up. WhewI It went well.
I’m happy to hear no plants died on your watch. I believe that your part of the world is beginning to blossom and bloom this season.
Thanks for noticing the antique letter too, Pete! π
Hurray that your sago palm came back to life! I’d hoped for the same for our Rose of Sharon. Alas, that was not to be. She died. I was so upset when my husband took the bush down, he went out and bought me another one. Our garden at present has dirt, dead leaves, and pine needles. My husband is still working on getting it ready for the planting season.
Dirt, dead leaves, and pine needles (for mulch?) are a good way to begin a new gardening season. I’m glad to hear your hubby makes you happy with another Rose of Sharon and gardening expertise, Liz. π
Isnβt there an expression that goes something like βThe only constant is change?β
As you know, we encounter change every day. Nothing in our lifestyle is the same. Even when we stay in the same camping spot for a few days, the environment, sounds, weather, views, smells, sights, β¦ change. A quiet day will turn noisy, comfort will become discomfort, fresh air turns into the smell of burning trash, mosquitoes and wasps alternate. We live a life of constant change. Every day. π
I am aware that you experience constant change but I don’t feel it in my gut and down to my toes as you two (3?) do every. single. day.
You’re right: The only thing constant is change. It’s enough to make your head spin. By the way, I just checked out your FB page and noticed that you are hanging out laundry to dry. π
Hi Marian, I am glad you were able to successfully treat your palm and that it is recovering. Life is full of change, some good and some bad.
Robbie, I am so glad we can be our authentic selves online, sharing both good, bad and in between. Our efforts at bringing the sago palm back to life–a very good thing. Enjoy your day! π
Welcome back, Marian! You have returned and so has your Sago Palm, haha. That’s excellent news on both fronts. I have literally just planted a bright pink hydrangea which is tricky down here in the Florida sun. I’m giving it lots of shade and love. π Boy, when I scrolled down the post as I read and saw the cover of the Secret Garden, I thought “I’ve read this!” It was so long ago that I want to reread it. I have fond memories of it. Thank, Marian.
I think hydrangeas could do well in our state. Just today I bought a red and yellow canna lily, which I hope with lure hummingbirds to the feeder.
How wonderful to read you are being enticed to reread The Secret Garden. Now you’d be reading it with a different set of eyes and experiences, Melanie! π
Oooo, what vibrant colors for the lily, it sounds like a great choice. Enjoy. And yes, I think it will be wonderful to go back in time (maybe 50 years? π) with The Secret Garden.
Remember Emily Dickinson’s line “There is no Frigate like a Book,” –your transport back in time.
Happy reading, Melanie!
Dear Marian, I love your thought-provoking newsletters. I so resonate with your story of the palm. We have a little “orchard” of four fruit trees. The Honey Crisp began to fail and I feared for it’s life. I stood among it’s branches and told it how sorry I was that it was ailing. I promised I’d do everything I could to save it. And thanks to several applications of neem oil, it revived and produced wonderful apples. But then it’s companion, a Gala full of apples, blew over in a storm. The next year, the lone Honey Crisp produced two apples. Last fall, we found a little sad-looking Pink Lady on clearance. This spring it produced beautiful white blossoms, and we’re hoping our two trees will polinate each other. As I write this, I see an anology for the loss of a partner, but hope for the future.
Your reply here speaks to me just as you spoke to your ailing apple tree. Thank you too for sharing lessons learned from your little orchard–with more to come most likely.
I appreciate the compliment as well, Linda. π
Hi Marian, I’m glad your sago palm has entered a regrowth stage. That’s great news! Your observances about change ring true for all aspects of life. I really enjoyed your Aunt Ruthie’s letter. I liked her description of the cartons of plants and flowers. She sounded happy amid the busy-ness and disarray! And The Secret Garden is one of my favorite books. Great post!
I believe we have similar interests, even beyond reading and reviewing. I’m glad you enjoyed the continuing sago palm saga and even Aunt Ruthie’s letter. Like us, she was busy, busy, busy, and putting up with some disarray!
Thank you, Barb! π
We’re finally getting some order in our house after 30 plus years of chaos!
Good for you!
Of course there are always those things that displace the order (like life…)!
Yes, indeedy!
I love gardening! It really is a thing of joy! Some things work out beautifully, and some things don’t do as well. Yes, there are many lessons to be learned in the garden!
Thank you, Linda, “Reflections from an Open Window”!
Right now I can eat breakfast in my lanai, looking at flowers in my wee garden. You say, “some things work out beautifully, and some things don’t do as well.” Something is eating at my tomatoes–not sure what to do.