The kitchen is my favourite room – the morning sun streams through the windows (which need cleaning) and no matter how tired or ‘down’ I am, a cup of coffee with the two plants, never fails to give me a boost and lift my spirits.
Since the flowering of the Begonia, I have made it a habit to spend at least fifteen minutes with the plants each morning and my moods have undergone a distinct change for the better. I tend to become depressed and negative very easily and the time I have spent with both plants has helped me enormously.
The Begonia really does have an eternal quality about it - certainly its blooms have lasted since the beginning of the year and look as if they will last for a few more weeks to come.
I did regret that the Busy Lizzie had flowered in November and that its blossoms had fallen, before the Begonia transformed into unexpected Scarlet delight – but I was well-pleased to see both plants so obviously flourishing in each others company.
I was indulging in my new-found kitchen-habit, when I noticed a tiny, purple-green bud, hidden underneath the leaves – a great photo opportunity
The sun was shining after the rain as I clicked away. The kitchen was brim-full of beautiful light and I felt I was swimming and submerged in it – but still able to breath the smell of my wet garden/wilderness - which went along with my visual experience and augmented it.
I was delighted when I loaded the photos onto my computer, to see that my camera lens had acted like a prism and revealed all the colours of the visible spectrum within the sunlight that filled the room.
There was something really animal or repitle-like about the new arrival - and also human. The bud reminded me of the embryo in the closing sequence of 2001. I’ve embedded a YouTube video of the scene at the end of this post, if you haven’t seen the film – or want to see it again.
I did feel sorry for the Begonia however – although its red blooms looked lovely, the sheer weight of the flowers had caused it to stoop. So I set about improving the ‘scaffolding’ around the plant, by adding another chopstick to lift its flower-head.
The chopsticks resembled two legs and so, after briefly transforming itself into a hen, the Begonia finally morphed into “Flower Dragon”.
Remarkably the attraction between the two plants had caused them to grow toward each other, instead of towards the window and the sunlight, as I would have expected. The day was warm, so I took the two plants into the garden and spent a good hour photographing them.
The next day was dull and wet, but as it was warm, I took Lizzie outside once more and managed to get the photo opposite. Like the expression on an unborn child, it seemed solemn as it bowed to it’s new world. The somber day, matched the bud perfectly.
I estimated the bud would split in two days time… the time I returned home that night, there was a tiny, purple-red tongue, just starting to appear out of a slit in the ‘nose’ of the pod.
I hoped that the next morning would see the slit grow longer – I was in for a shock, my solemn little bud had changed into a moist, primitive life-form, slowly unfolding in unfamiliar air.
The metamorphosis had completed by the following day and Lizzie stood with it’s flower in full-bloom, apart from two petals which remained permanently half-closed, giving the little flower an unusual, rose-like appearance.
My ivy and jasmine jungle provided the ideal backdrop for the flower, and the early-morning sun which filtered through the leaves, gave a gentle dappled effect.
I eventually returned to the kitchen feeling very positive, not only about the flowers, but also about the day ahead
Almost six months have passed since my ‘Flower Dragon’ Begonia first produced the buds which made up it’s head and the subsequent flowers have lasted for six weeks to date. In contrast, the Busy Lizzie flower lasted only a week, before I returned home one night to find it lying, face down on my draining-board.
It seems however that the two plants may have synchronised. As I entered the kitchen the following morning, I saw not one, but two flower-heads on the draining-board. My flower-dragon had also shed a large blossom, which looked remarkably fresh and lay to the right of the tiny Busy Lizzie flower…(but don’t worry miffy, it’s got around twenty remaining and still flourishing in all their scarlet glory)
Already there are two new buds on the Busy Lizzie,
I really like my kitchen.
“The young sow wild oats, the old grow sage” ~ Winston Churchill