brugmansia
One thing that's very cool about gardening is that you never quite know what to expect when you grow an unfamiliar plant for the first time. brianrdu put me on to Angels' Trumpets, or brugmansia late last year. I'd never even heard of them before, and thought I'd give them a shot.
What a satisfying plant to grow! Not to mention sinister.
24 flowerbuds on one plant right now, 10 of them currently longer than my outstretched hand (that's nearly nine inches long, no word of a lie!). I swear I could feel them growing while I was sitting in the living room last night. Very eerie.
Each flowerbud is a long, green furled up flute, with catfish whiskers bristling out at the end. They're rolled up very tight right now. Every day they take on a bit more colour and length - I think these ones are going to be white - and become, well, less like something 'fleshy' and more like, well, actual real flowers. Just giant, tantalisingly heavy ones. I swear they became whiter in the time it took a rugby league game to play itself out on the tv last night. Once mature they're supposed to open in the evenings with a powerful intoxicating scent. Though not too intoxicating I hope: I've had to bring it indoors permanently now to keep it out of the gales and our rapidly dropping night temperatures. 'Intoxicating' isn't far from the truth, as I understand it, either. Brugmansia are used in the South America's for their powerful psychoactive effects, I've heard. Sages use it to put themselves into violent hallucinatory trances. Knowing that does tantalise me, but I don't think I'm going to be brewing any of it up any time soon. That definitely adds to it's sinister nature, though. Look at it, sat there, straining it's flowers out right there on my innocent Ikea rug...
I imagine this might be the closest I get to experiencing what it's like to have a baby. All this tantalising waiting... not quite sure what to expect. The whole vibe I get from the plant, I'm half expecting those flowerbuds to burst open en masse together one night: huge eighteen-inch diameter bat wings, all slapping open with a loud leathery FLAP. Me taken out mid-tooth-brushing - "He didn't even have time to turn on the light..."
Tell me you haven't missed my drama. ; P
It's actually going to look similar to this, I think. Strange and fascinating at the same time. Perhaps the flowers will open like this before the week's out?
Anyway, this kind of thing is the reason why I enjoy gardening. Thanks for putting me on to these Brian! : )
What a satisfying plant to grow! Not to mention sinister.
24 flowerbuds on one plant right now, 10 of them currently longer than my outstretched hand (that's nearly nine inches long, no word of a lie!). I swear I could feel them growing while I was sitting in the living room last night. Very eerie.
Each flowerbud is a long, green furled up flute, with catfish whiskers bristling out at the end. They're rolled up very tight right now. Every day they take on a bit more colour and length - I think these ones are going to be white - and become, well, less like something 'fleshy' and more like, well, actual real flowers. Just giant, tantalisingly heavy ones. I swear they became whiter in the time it took a rugby league game to play itself out on the tv last night. Once mature they're supposed to open in the evenings with a powerful intoxicating scent. Though not too intoxicating I hope: I've had to bring it indoors permanently now to keep it out of the gales and our rapidly dropping night temperatures. 'Intoxicating' isn't far from the truth, as I understand it, either. Brugmansia are used in the South America's for their powerful psychoactive effects, I've heard. Sages use it to put themselves into violent hallucinatory trances. Knowing that does tantalise me, but I don't think I'm going to be brewing any of it up any time soon. That definitely adds to it's sinister nature, though. Look at it, sat there, straining it's flowers out right there on my innocent Ikea rug...
I imagine this might be the closest I get to experiencing what it's like to have a baby. All this tantalising waiting... not quite sure what to expect. The whole vibe I get from the plant, I'm half expecting those flowerbuds to burst open en masse together one night: huge eighteen-inch diameter bat wings, all slapping open with a loud leathery FLAP. Me taken out mid-tooth-brushing - "He didn't even have time to turn on the light..."
Tell me you haven't missed my drama. ; P
It's actually going to look similar to this, I think. Strange and fascinating at the same time. Perhaps the flowers will open like this before the week's out?
Anyway, this kind of thing is the reason why I enjoy gardening. Thanks for putting me on to these Brian! : )