This is the 15th year of continuous daily publication for 365Caws. All things considered, it's likely it will be the last year as it is becoming increasingly difficult for me to find interesting material. However, I hope that I may have inspired someone to a greater curiosity about the natural world with my natural history posts, or encouraged a novice weaver or needleworker. If so, I've done what I set out to do.
Saturday, July 25, 2015
The Geranium That Wouldn't Die
Day 285: This is the story of The Geranium That Wouldn't Die. It's not the kind of story you hear every day, and some people may find it disturbing. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Last spring when I was hunting down rare orchids, a friend reported to me that he had found daffodils, tulips and other flowers blooming on a service trail in the Park. Since planting of non-native species is strictly prohibited within our boundaries, I dutifully went to the location and removed them. Rather than throw them out, I brought them home and planted them, scoring in the process some bulbs for my garden (the tulips were pink, ugh!) as well as a white hydrangea. The daffodils were well-rooted, as if they had spent at least one full year in place. The tulips and hydrangea were in pots and fresh, but I also found other empty pots buried in the ground at the site. All things considered, I figured someone had spread a family member's ashes there at some time in the past, and now they were creating a memorial garden. I may have been right about that, but only halfway.
Two weeks later, more plants showed up in the same spot. I climbed up the short rise to remove them, and was met with the sight of human "cremains" distributed over an area approximately 8' x 10'. Again in the line of duty, I documented everything with my camera, pulled the plants, covered the ashes with forest detritus and reported the discovery to my superiors.
Once again, I brought the plants home, but our nights were still dropping into the mid-20's and I assumed the geraniums wouldn't survive. I didn't want to fuss with bringing hanging baskets in and out, so I pitched them onto my compost heap and didn't give them another thought until a month or so later when I found one of them blooming its silly head off without so much as a pot around its roots. I felt sorry for the poor thing and stuck it in some dirt and set it by my back porch step. It looked sickly for another month, and then started putting on leaves. Now it's covered in blossoms, and today enjoyed a light sprinkling of rain.
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