We call it our NBC - Night Blooming Cereus - because it's easier. Technically it's not that at all but a common Epiphyllum (
Epiphyllum Oxypetalum - Queen of the Night). It's too late to change now and, frankly, all of my friends who has one calls it the same thing. But maybe that's my fault?
I won't belabor the point nor repeat background information. Simply use the search tool on this blog to find past posts about this
same flower.
I have gotten in the habit of taking it from its overwintering spot on our enclosed porch to the back porch each spring after the last frost. There's no doubt the plant relishes this spot in the sun and with country air flowing all about. It is a cactus after all.
Earlier this spring it developed three buds. But two fell off on their own and I broke the third off when I was moving the plant slightly. So I figured it was done for this year.
By the way, my mother and grandmother both thought the plant bloomed about every decade but this is clearly not the case. A happy Epiphllyum will bloom every year. And sometimes even more often.
A couple of weeks ago the plant again began developing buds - eight to ten of them. And we've watched them expand with every day. (I've also been careful to keep hands off).
Sunday night (08/09/20) I walked out after the sun had set and darkness began falling and saw that five of the buds were beginning to open. I've never seen that many at one time. Usually when Mom and I would get up during the night and view the plant on the porch, it was for a single flower.
Tom and I went back out about 10:30 PM and saw flowers opening in profusion. The two pictured at the top of this post were side by side. Mom always loved the scent but I can smell nothing. Tom said it smelled like "fresh linen air freshener". Even my grandmother mentioned how the sweet scent was what drew her to the blooming flower. She was usually unaware that the plant was even considering blooming.
In this shot you can see a flower that is just beginning to open and another bud to the left which is perhaps a day away from glory.
Last night (08/10/20) I went to bed (it had been raining) but Tom went out about 12:30 AM (actually 08/11/20) and found three more blooms fully open and another well on the way.
It's sad to see the beautiful white blossoms now lying on the cool concrete porch. They look like deflated balloons. But I know they'll show themselves again next year ... and the year after that.
The plant provides a lesson in humility. This plant itself is one of the ugliest we have. It is spindly and lank and has a hard time standing up under the weight of its one branches. But inside courses a beauty that seems not to come from these thin branches but from somewhere entirely removed.The heart of all matters is deeply hidden.
Later: The eighth bud bloomed last night (see dates below the pix) and that will do it for this go-round. Even so, Tom discovered two
new buds on the plant. Can we even imagine that it will bloom again this summer? That'd be the third time.
08/11/20 - 10:02 PM
08/11/20 - 10:32 PM
08/12/20 - 7:35 AM
