“The devil called and wants his weather back.” That old church sign still sums up those summers when the heat seems endless, the rain disappears, and the garden starts looking more like a desert than a landscape. Other than the spots that I’m watering with sprinkler, can, jugs, and hose, mine is pretty deserted right now.
Every gardener in Texas eventually faces a summer when you have to sit down and decide which plants you are going to save and which ones you are going to turn loose. There simply comes a point when you can’t water everything, especially for folks like me that don’t own a sprinkler system. When that happens, I think it’s important to remember that gardening isn’t about keeping every plant alive at all costs. It’s about learning what belongs where and working with nature instead of constantly fighting it.
During a drought, I give my water to the plants that matter most. I generally keep a small patch of turf green, but I’m not going to try to make the entire yard look like a golf course. Most grasses can simply go dormant and recover with rainfall. Newly planted trees, shrubs, perennials, vegetables, and container plants get priority, although I try to make sure to do little planting this time of year.
Drip irrigation is one of the best ways to stretch water. Rather than spraying water into the air or across areas that don’t need it, drip irrigation puts water close to the roots where plants can use it. I use it for plants I really want to protect, especially the vegetables in my raised “potato bed”.
Rainwater harvesting is another old idea that deserves to become much more common. A cistern or barrel connected to a roof can collect a surprising amount of water from even a modest rain. My ancestors understood this. Before rural water systems and modern wells, collecting and storing rainwater was simply part of living on the land and in my opinion should be again. We have modern technology, but we shouldn’t forget the wisdom of the past. A roof is a giant rain collector just waiting to be used.

Water savers
Mulch is another drought-fighting tool that every gardener should use, especially on new plants that aren’t dense enough to cover the ground themselves. Coarse organic materials such as pine bark, compost, straw, leaves, hay, and grass clippings help keep the soil cooler, reduce evaporation, suppress weeds, and keep moisture around plant roots longer. As mulch breaks down, it also adds organic matter to the soil. Don’t complain when your mulch disappears though. That’s one of the things you paid it to do.
Of course, the best long-term solution to drought isn’t just about watering more efficiently. It’s growing plants that can survive the conditions we put them in.

Watering pear tomatoes
This is where tough weather becomes a tremendous teacher. When the weather gets brutal, take a walk around your property and notice what’s still thriving without much help. Those survivors are giving you valuable information. Plant survival is largely about genetics and geographic origin. Plants that evolved in hot, dry climates often possess characteristics that help them tolerate our heat. In Texas, however, we also have to consider humidity, rainfall, periodic flooding, and wet winters. We are not a true desert, so desert plants are not necessarily the answer.
Plants from regions with hot summers and periodic drought can often make excellent garden choices. Crapemyrtles, esperanza, firebush, mealy-cup sage, oaks, oleander, palms, periwinkles, pomegranates, pride of Barbados, tropical giant hymenocallis, Turk’s cap, yaupon holly, and variegated tapioca, are examples of plants that can handle conditions that send many pampered plants into a tailspin.

Unirrigated pride of barbados
Our native plants have the biggest advantage. They evolved here. They have experienced our heat, cold, droughts, floods, insects, diseases, and other challenges for generations. That doesn’t mean every native plant will grow anywhere, but when matched to the proper location, native plants can be remarkably resilient. Even during the worst weather, native plants can keep the garden alive with birds, bees, and butterflies. A pocket prairie of liatris, rattlesnake master, and sunflower species can continue providing nectar for butterflies and native bees. Passionflower can feed Gulf fritillary caterpillars while its flowers attract pollinators. Milkweeds nurture monarchs. These plants are not just surviving. They are supporting an entire community of wildlife.
And don’t forget old-fashioned bulbs. Many of the time-tested bulbs that have been grown successfully in Texas gardens for generations are perfectly adapted to our wet winters and dry summers. Heirloom daffodils, jonquils, narcissus, snowflakes, Byzantine gladiolus, oxblood lilies, spider lilies, and rain lilies can thrive with surprisingly little summer attention. In fact, they perform better when they are allowed to remain dry during the summer. That’s an important lesson. Sometimes the best thing we can do for a plant is to let it be.

Heaven bound lilacs
I have lost plenty of plants over the years. Some died from drought. Some succumbed to floods, freezes, insects, diseases, lawnmowers, weed eaters, trucks, tractors, dogs, deer, hogs, and inebriated relatives. I have learned not to become too emotionally attached to any single plant. Death is a part of life. That’s easier said than done, especially when you have spent years growing something from a seed, cutting, or tiny plant. But gardening is ultimately about renewal. When one plant dies, something else usually takes its place. That’s what friends and nurseries are for!
A difficult summer can be frustrating, but it can also be revealing. It reveals that I should have never planted lilacs, much less spent every summer trying to keep them alive! It shows us which plants are truly suited to our gardens, and which ones require constant intervention to survive. It reminds us that water is precious. It encourages us to mulch, harvest rainwater, improve our soil when needed, choose truly adapted plants, and give up our obsession with having everything green all the time. Most importantly, it reminds us that nature keeps moving both forward and backward. So don’t be too upset about what you lose. Be grateful for what survives, learn from it, and plant more of it and others like it.