I have this red iris thing that grows in a pot on my balcony.
Every year around this time it suddenly puts on a growth spurt, pushes up several thin reedy leaves and then ejects one slender stalk higher and taller than the rest. At the end of this stalk hang a series of seven or so crimson buds which, over the period of less than a fortnight, gradually unfurl, bloom and wilt. It looks gorgeous, but only briefly, and then fades swiftly away.
This year the flowery stem stretched out rather further than usual, then promptly sagged under its own weight and drooped headlong into the rosebush alongside. In attempting to remove the flowers from their thorny hideaway I managed to damage the stalk, creating a nasty torn fold that would never repair. Damn. My prize bloom, now at risk of rapid extinction, drooped even more precipitously below the horizontal. Rather than watch the flowers die unattached and unloved, I snipped off the stalk at its point of damage and placed the single stem into a vase I've had for eight years but never used. It looks a bit lonely, but at least I get to admire its beauty indoors for a brief period before the petals fade away.
The plant's entire flowery lifecycle is now displayed across seven simple blooms, from the tip of the stalk down to the cusp of the container. Two darkly budding, the next tentatively opening, one in the centre bright and resplendent and proud, then two past their prime, and finally one hanging soggy and limp. Nature's annual miracle is being played out on my windowsill - severed, captured, defiant. I keep staring at it, wondering how much longer it can survive, then looking back to the balcony where it ought to be the dominant feature. By next week I expect to be chucking the whole withered has-been into the bin, and feeling a slight twinge of guilt as it departs.
Fingers crossed that next year's single-stemmed flowershow survives intact, outside where it belongs.
This year the flowery stem stretched out rather further than usual, then promptly sagged under its own weight and drooped headlong into the rosebush alongside. In attempting to remove the flowers from their thorny hideaway I managed to damage the stalk, creating a nasty torn fold that would never repair. Damn. My prize bloom, now at risk of rapid extinction, drooped even more precipitously below the horizontal. Rather than watch the flowers die unattached and unloved, I snipped off the stalk at its point of damage and placed the single stem into a vase I've had for eight years but never used. It looks a bit lonely, but at least I get to admire its beauty indoors for a brief period before the petals fade away.
