Showing posts with label Rosary Vine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rosary Vine. Show all posts

Thursday, November 15, 2018

Ceropegia Woodii


Day 33: Otherwise known as "Rosary Vine," the flowers which precede Ceropegia woodii's characteristic "beads" are fascinatingly unique. At roughly 3/4" long, the reproductive structures are concealed within a rounded base which narrows abruptly into a tube capped with five fuzzy purple incurved petals joined at the tips. In the wild, pollination is carried out by tiny flies which are prevented from escaping the tube by fine, downward-pointing hairs; in cultivation, it may require a human assist from a second plant. Fertile seed pods developing on Ceropegia in the home are rare. That said, this Ceropegia is not limited to a single reproductive strategy. It also forms knob-like tubers (the "beads of the rosary") at its leaf axils. When these grow to sufficient size, their weight breaks the stem and drops to the ground (if it doesn't get caught in the tangled vine!). Once in contact with moist soil, the tuber puts out roots and a new plant is established.

Saturday, August 11, 2018

Ceropegia Woodii, Rosary Vine


Day 302: My first experience with Ceropegia woodii was at age ten when my mother and I moved into a beautiful old farmhouse. The sellers were an elderly Scandinavian couple who felt compelled to downsize, so they left many things behind when they moved out. Among them was a Ceropegia with wiry trailing stems 8-10 feet long, stems which bore peculiar woody grey "knobs" of varying sizes at many of the axils. I later learned that these nodules were the plant's means of propagating itself. Each one was capable of producing roots to start a new plant. It wasn't until sometime later that we noticed the equally intriguing flowers. No more than 3/4" in length, they were inconspicuous against the grey-green mottled leaves. The prior owner claimed that she'd had the plant for over fifty years.

After I left home, "Knob" moved from place to place with my mother, and then when as a young wife, I returned to the Pacific Northwest to set up housekeeping, I asked her for a start. In its turn, that "Knob" gave me many more knobs for a succession of plants, but my lackadaisical maintenance led to the expiration of the last generation during one hot summer several years ago. Recently, I obtained a replacement which I again failed to notice was in bloom until the expended flowers began falling to the floor. Hopefully, I'll see little grey knobs developing soon.