Out of the over 10,000 plants that were intentionally grown on the farm this year there was one in particular that is a complete mystery to me. And unfortunately, it will remain a mystery. To be sure, during any given growing season, many unknown plants appear in the fields, but those are mostly what are termed “weeds”. The farm seems to have plenty of those. However, when certain plants are specifically planted in a certain place for the purpose of producing fruit, well, fruit is expected. Such was not the case with this particular plant. But I will explain further.
Depending on the crop, some plants are started as transplants in one of the greenhouses, that is, a seed is planted in a soil mix block, and grown to a certain size, then transplanted out into the field at the appropriate time for said plant to thrive. This process utilizes the protected temperature zone of the greenhouse during times that might be too cold, for example, for the plant to survive in the natural climate. Many plants cannot survive a frost, and for that reason, plants such as squash, tomatoes, peppers, etc. are started in the greenhouse to allow them to sprout and grow without the possibility of an overnight frost to kill them. Other plants are directly seeded into the fields at the appropriate time of year, when the temperature is conducive to their growing needs, etc.
The plant in question was started as a seed in Greenhouse 1, as were countless others of the same family. It was a member of the Cucurbitaceae family, of that I am certain, but from there, I am not sure. Now for those unfamiliar with the Cucurbitaceae family of plants, this includes cucumbers (I thought I would mention that one first since it most closely resembles the family name), melons and squash (I was tempted to mention pumpkin, but since that too is a squash, I resisted). Anyway, the Cucurbitaceae family hates cold weather, and especially HATES the frost because it kills them. For that reason, the seeds for those plants are started in a greenhouse in order to get a jump on the season. The mystery plant was started in such a fashion.
Now, when it comes to Cucurbitaceae seeds, they are all rather similar in form, although they vary greatly in size, color and texture. Larger seeds are almost always some form of squash, dark brown are almost always watermelon, etc. So as the seeding process goes along, it is quite obvious if one is planting small, almost white cucumber seeds, and a seed appears that is five times its size, that it is most likely not a cucumber seed. We farmers pay attention to such details, if you can believe it.
So, to the mystery plant. The seed was a Swan Lake melon. Melon seeds are also quite small in comparison to squash, and I mention squash for a reason, but I will get back to that. The Swan Lake melon seeds that I purchased this year had very few seeds in the pack. I had intended to “try” out this new variety to value its worth, as in flavor. I often order different varieties in order to find that “gem” that will become part of the growing rotation.
The Swan Lake melon plantings had very poor germination this year. How that has come to pass will not be analyzed here, nor will many other constantly frustrating situations, such as weather, etc. All said, three of the twenty or so seeds actually germinated. And those that germinated grew accordingly, as in, how Cucurbitaceae normally grow in a greenhouse.
Then, May 14 appeared on the calendar page. That day, Row 2 of Field 8 was being transplanted with Crimson Sweet watermelon. As things worked out, the Crimson Sweet watermelon also had a somewhat poor germination rate, and by the end of planting the row, there were three spaces left empty. Since my crop rotation goes by plant family, I decided to fill those three spots with Swan Lake melons.
To pause, there are a lot of issues that can arrive from planting Cucurbitaceae plants, and I hope I describe this one accurately. That day, many rows were planted, and those plants thrived. But what struck me most notably, was that the early onslaught of attackers, be it squash vine borers or cucumber beetles, killed two of the three Swan Lake melon plants within a couple of weeks. That was quite odd, and to the unfamiliar reader, I feel I must explain. The early onslaught of Cucurbitaceae pests normally attack summer squash, such as zucchini, and cucumbers first. For some reason, those pests immediately attacked the Swan Lake melons, which are normally only affected after the previous varieties have already been disparaged. It was yet another puzzling situation for the frustrated farmer, that is, me.
But what arose after those first two plants were murdered was quite extraordinary. The third plant not only survived, but it grew, and grew and grew and grew, and RAPIDLY. That melon plant grew so quickly and thickly that I began to wonder if it was a melon at all. Melon plants, whether they are watermelon, cantaloupe or other muskmelons, tend to have smaller leaves than their squash brethren. This plant had tremendous leaves, and huge vine growth. It wanted to take over everything, just like a… winter squash plant.
The other thing rather out of the ordinary with the plant was that… Okay I will pause here to explain that a mesh netting is set up in the middle of these rows to allow for Cucurbitaceae vines to grow upward instead of outward. For the most part, this does not work without constantly turning vines back toward the meshing. The Swan Lake melon, however, needed no coaxing. It climbed the meshing in a most glorious fashion. And I was amazed. At the same time, I convinced myself that there was no way that plant was a melon. Melons simply do not grow like that.
There is one clear way of determining what type of Cucurbitaceae the plant was, and that was to view the fruit. Cucurbitaceae plants produce male and female flowers; the males develop first, which appears as merely a yellow flower, then the female flowers bud, and at the base of the flower, a miniature fruit forms, which will relay what the shape of the eventual fruit should be. There are little tiny cucumbers on female cucumber flowers, as well as small watermelons on female watermelon flowers , etc. As the mystery plant grew, I searched out the female flowers in order to discern what type of plant it was, but, alas, it only grew and grew without producing any female flowers. Eventually, the monstrously sized plant produced some female flowers and that future fruit was revealed to be oval. Big help that was. The fruit was quickly narrowed down to any type of muskmelon, maybe some strange form of cucumber, a pumpkin or any number of other forms of squash. At that point, only the full ripening of the female part of the plant would reveal what type of fruit would develop.
By then, actually a little later than then, but nonetheless, I was convinced the plant was some form of squash. Although the seeds that were initially planted were small, that is, too small to be squash, human error is always a possibility, and one glaring trait of the plant seemed to point toward the mystery plant being a squash. Squash bugs. As my curiosity grew over what the plant actually was, more and more squash bug eggs were found on the leaves, and smashed accordingly. And actually, quite a few squash bugs were found as well, and squashed accordingly. Normally, squash bugs are quite elusive, but these made a notable appearance on the mystery plant. And my interest was piqued. Whatever the plant was it attracted squash bugs vigorously. Perhaps this could be a trap crop, as in, a crop to plant to attract the squash bugs!
But I still needed to discover what the plant actually was. Alas, that was not to be. Even as the other squash plants were being severely attacked by squash bugs and borers, they continued to fight for survival. Unfortunately, the mystery plant, despite my killing prowess, fell victim to those odious prey. Much time was spent searching down those villains and their eggs, but they eventually won. The plant died. A couple of days ago, as I searched the dead plant leaves and murdered a multitude of squash bug babies, nymphs as they are better known, I also searched the plant for the potential fruit. None had developed to any size to come to a conclusion of what type of Cucurbitaceae it was.
And so, thus ends the mystery. After many hours of examination and deliberation, I truly have no idea what plant that actually was. Thus, the situation will be filed amongst other unsolved cases, and will remain a mystery.