It looks like someone wants outta here!
I’ve been watching this miscreant American century plant, Agave americana, for a while, since it was a wee pup. It seems happy enough in its neither here, nor there sort of state.
Sneaking out the back door?
Rocking the agave version of an agave bow tie to its matching agave hat?
Maybe its simply doing what this species of agave do: pupping right, left, bottom–where ever. If you look at the base of the larger plant, there are two other pups, just waiting in the wings to grow up. Also, there are fallen oak leaves which should have been picked out weeks ago, but those are even more temporary than the agave pups, which will be pulled soon. For the leaves, a surgical strike with careful fingers will do the trick, but for the agaves, gloves are a must.
I grow several American agave specimens in pots and ONLY in pots; I never plant them in the ground. In the ground, given time and space, they become too big, too unwieldy, too dangerous. I’m not a member of the spiky plant club, not a fan of plants that poke me in places that don’t want poking–you know, eyes, arms, legs, butt. That said, I think agaves as a group, and this species in particular, are quite beautiful, the color its own blue-gray-green marvel; truly a stunning plant. The graceful-but-with-spikes-attached structure of these plants is eye-catching in the garden and a foil for the shrubs with lush, soft, and archetypal, garden foliage.
So, all of my American agave plants grow in pots. Even when they try to escape.
I haven’t decided how long I’ll let this scoundrel succulent hang out here, hiding from the others, but for now, I see no reason to yank out its spiny self. I’m interested in observing just how big this baby gets.
Maybe it’ll get as big as the one in the basin. Of course by then, the one in the basin will be even larger and it may need yanking. So like all gardening, it’s a never-ending saga, a tale as old as time.
For more garden sagas, check out Anna’s Wednesday Vignette.