The banana tree. That's right, bananas--as in long, yellow fruit. Here's the story.
When we moved into this house in the Texas Hill Country about 18 months ago, the former owners had landscaped the property with banana trees. There was a large banana tree right next to the front door which, when we first viewed the house, had some bananas ready for picking. There was another large banana tree next to the garage and a third clump of banana trees at the far corner of the front of the house. Now, I love bananas (especially before they become over ripe) but we did not exactly want our house to look like it belonged in Central America. We both agreed that the banana trees did not add to the look we wanted in a house. The banana trees had to go.
Before commencing the formidable removal task ahead of me, I did some reading about banana trees, which will in fact grow and flourish in this part of the country, but which also die back in winter, leaving a large display of brown banana leaves. Yuk. I learned also that the banana tree is almost all water (it must be a very thirsty plant, also not good for these parts where rain is sporadic and unpredictable). Finally, I learned that coral snakes are attracted to banana trees because of the abundance of water around them. Horrors! The most poisonous North American reptile! For sure, the banana trees had to go.
Removing those trees was my first experience dealing with a huge tropical plant. When I cut off the tree at the base, I found why it is characterized as being hydrophilic: the tree gushed water as if I had just hit a subterranean spring. The root excavation process was challenging, as each tree had huge roots. Knowing that some plants can regenerate from even a small portion of rootstock, I removed all of the roots. Since the trees did not return to these spots, I know I got all the roots.
What to do with the wheelbarrows full of banana roots? I dumped them at the back of the property behind the compost, figuring that eventually they would decompose and turn into soil nourishment. After winter had passed, I undertook to create a berm to block some of the unsightly areas of the back of the yard, and I realized that those old, rotting banana roots would provide a good base over which I could put top soil as I built up the berm. Surely those roots which had been out of the ground, subjected to the elements for several months, were harmless.
That's when I learned that banana trees seem to have acquired the gift of eternal life. The berm is working. The tithonia and oleander I have planted in the berm block the unattractive areas in the back of the yard. But guess what? A banana tree lives! Eighteen months after exhumation, a banana tree is growing happily as if I had planted it and nurtured it. I fear that banana trees may be a permanent fixture at this address!
