Once upon a time there was a city steeped in tropical decadence and modern strife of life, a city wreathed in ferns that literally stitched each old building to the next. The green curls graced all corners of New Orleans alike; the corners where inebriated tourists donated their Sex On The Beach drinks back to the sidewalk, where locals bought their groceries and ones where little kids stayed up too late dancing with taps screwed into their basketball shoes to earn a few bucks. Ferns hung in drooping enormous baskets from the multilayer porches of the weathered old hotels and apartments.
As many of us quirks who frequent New Orleans regularly have noticed, the city was scoured of its fantastic green fern garnish during Katrina, and as the renewal of the city involves a lot of new paint downtown, the place has looked pretty unusually shiny in parts.
We are here to report after a visit a couple weeks ago that along with the recovery of the heartbeat of the city, the ferns are slowly but surely finding their way back. More and more folks are hanging back up the huge fern baskets and the re-sporing of Nola has commenced. Witness these determined Nephrolepis exaltata spotted this trip and smile with us over another tiny recovery step.