I’ve been a little bit obsessed with ferns lately. Last summer I allowed myself to have a fern. I used to think ferns were out of my league, that I should only like drought tolerant plants. It was the sensible thing to do. Succulents. Chapparal plants. Grassland plants. Plants from the Great Basin region. Fire tolerant species. Do I really have any right to growing ferns? What if I’m not good enough to grow them, (nevermind that I’ve been professionally growing plants since I was 16)? I’ve elevated ferns to an untouchable level.
It seemed unhealthy and irrational. I had a right to like ANY plant, even if their maintenance level isn’t what I’m SUPPOSED to tolerate, right? Am I really unworthy of having a fern?
I decided to take a risk. I went to a nursery and bought, not one, but three species of ferns(!), all outdoors. Then I went to another nursery and bought another three species of ferns, this time indoor small indoor plants. Around the same time I wanted to make terrariums as thank you rewards for a possible crowdfundraiser for my dance group (this never took off because 1) not enough people were into it, 2) I didn’t want to give someone something without knowing how it would develop or if it would just crash and burn — some reward that would be! 3) I didn’t want to impose someone with the responsibility of having to care for something that might die and then be responsible for their depression? No, thank you). Ferns would be great for terrariums, I thought. Then I splurged and bought a pot of staghorn ferns, Platycerium bifurcatum. It was the most exhilarating things I’ve done since I tried roller skating (….and later miserably failed. Oh wait.) Well making mistakes is my tagline, so I’m IN!
I looked up youtube videos, read online articles and even bought a book about ferns. I learned I’m not alone in killing ferns (I killed one species consistently: Pteris ensiformis. But I’ve also been able to grow all the other ferns successfully since the fall 2018, so there’s hope, people!
And I joined a fern society. I was excited. There was a fern society meeting, but then it was cancelled because of bad air quality. UGH. So I waited. In the meantime, I sprayed water on my staghorn ferns as often as I could. I let it dry between watering. And finally shield leaves were forming. OMGGGGG. I. COULD. DIE. (but I’m not Pteris ensiformis, so I will continue to live).
A few months later, at the next fern society meeting, we mounted staghorn ferns! I didn’t mount MY pot of staghorn ferns, but we mounted large ones. They are beautiful. I even saved mounted the saddest looking fern because I felt sad for it.
A few weeks later, I was doing some budget work for a friend of mine and her husband, a woodworker, offered his scraps to us. Free wood? Yes is the correct answer. I mounted my pot finally with his scraps to use as a base and ta-da! 8 whole mounted staghorn ferns.
I know I’m rambling here, but I wanted to document my feelings about the staghorn ferns, and ferns in general, and how I’ve been able to move away from thinking how unworthy I am of growing fern to growing 12 species of Polypodiopsida in almost a year.
