Apostle of the flowers
Jul. 4th, 2019 01:08 amMy "Tina James' Magic" evening primroses started blooming a couple weeks ago, and are now at the peak of their season: Every night, over the course of 20 minutes, 30 flowers open on each plant, often in under a minute each. [1] They're big, yellow flowers, so it's quite a spectacle.
I grew up with them, so the amazement of watching them open has faded a bit. Now I get more joy from watching people watch the flowers. After the season started, I invited everyone on the neighborhood mailing list to come watch them, and managed to gather a small crowd for a few consecutive nights. It was great to see people's reactions, with some people even gasping or stepping back in surprise. Just tonight, I waved some folks down from the sidewalk to watch the last few of tonight's "show", and it sounds like they're interested in growing some of their own. I encouraged them to take some seeds when the pods ripen. (And I was pleased to get to share them with![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
minerva42 tonight as well.)
I feel compelled to share them. Not just the experience of watching these plants, but the seeds and seedlings, too. I've scattered seeds in a few weedy yards in Somerville, offered plants, gifted seeds. I might see if I can get a patch started on the Somerville Community Path in one of the full-sun areas. It feels a little odd, like the plants have co-opted me as a propagation vector. It reminds me even of parasites that control their hosts. But in this case, the symbiosis is a mutualism: The plants get spread, and I get a free show every summer evening.
[1] The best ones open all at once in 15-30 seconds. Many of them take a break in the middle, though—they flare out into a pinwheel shape in about 15 seconds, then wait a few minutes, and finally burst out into full bloom in about 15 more seconds. I think those count as well.
I grew up with them, so the amazement of watching them open has faded a bit. Now I get more joy from watching people watch the flowers. After the season started, I invited everyone on the neighborhood mailing list to come watch them, and managed to gather a small crowd for a few consecutive nights. It was great to see people's reactions, with some people even gasping or stepping back in surprise. Just tonight, I waved some folks down from the sidewalk to watch the last few of tonight's "show", and it sounds like they're interested in growing some of their own. I encouraged them to take some seeds when the pods ripen. (And I was pleased to get to share them with
minerva42 tonight as well.)I feel compelled to share them. Not just the experience of watching these plants, but the seeds and seedlings, too. I've scattered seeds in a few weedy yards in Somerville, offered plants, gifted seeds. I might see if I can get a patch started on the Somerville Community Path in one of the full-sun areas. It feels a little odd, like the plants have co-opted me as a propagation vector. It reminds me even of parasites that control their hosts. But in this case, the symbiosis is a mutualism: The plants get spread, and I get a free show every summer evening.
[1] The best ones open all at once in 15-30 seconds. Many of them take a break in the middle, though—they flare out into a pinwheel shape in about 15 seconds, then wait a few minutes, and finally burst out into full bloom in about 15 more seconds. I think those count as well.
