Reflections: Anatomy of a Rose

To someone who loves flowers and can’t seem to get enough of them - their colors, their scent, and their delicate cheer, this book has the effect of leaping off the stands and beckoning. Sharman Russell, a botanist (there goes another potential career of mine!), shares my passion, but hers is elevated supremely by tying in science to adoration. She loves flowers to the extent that she has dedicated her life’s goals towards studying them and exploring their role in our living world. In this book, she lyrically describes the delicate and intelligent system of flowers, whose every form has a function, even their spell-binding beauty. Her book is a beautiful ode on flowers.

Sharman Russell primarily discusses the structure of flowers and their complex and significant role in the ecosystem, touching upon their deceivingly ornate, yet simple features that have meticulously evolved with natural selection’s uncanny and persistent design. But just as we begin to fear if the idealism behind flowers is going to be ripped apart only to leave exposed their selfish motive towards pollination, and well, reproduction, Russell’s mellifluous prose soothingly quells us, as she crafts a scientific poetry that awes us. Flowers change into a beautiful and intelligent kind - one that is resilient to the environment and knows how to adapt its form, color, texture, scent and even pollinators, to survive. Russell also weaves in the causal scheme of cooperation and competition by which plants operate; two mutually contradictory, yet essential components of survival. Without the mutual symbiosis between flowers and insects, both species suffer. Yet without competition between flowers and their neighbors, the fittest isn’t going to procreate. It was fascinating to read about flowers that time their blooming periods to ensure that they are not overshadowed by their flashy neighboring plants! And how aggressive the flowers are in their shapes, colors and scents to outshine their competitors.

One of the things I loved about this narration was its focus on the pollinators - the bees, the wasps, the humming birds, birds and many other little creatures, and their drama of seduction with the flowers. Contrary to human being’s presumption, the colors and scents are not really meant for our senses, but are geared for the little agents. It is to lure them into their core, and provide nectar in exchange for disseminating their precious pollen. This, we all learned in middle-school, yes. But did you know why the majority of flowers are in bright yellows, and oranges? That a bee’s spectrum of visibility is slightly different from ours? That their yellows, oranges, whites and violets are different from our perception of those colors? I can’t bear to stand the fact that there are creatures who can see colors that I cannot even visualize! And with this, we are just grazing the tip of the iceberg of the mysteries surrounding all of nature, and human limitations in trying to solve them. As one botanist ponders - How does the bee experience the flower? How does the flower experience the bee? So many fundamental questions bordering on the elusive philosophical realm.

Flowers that imitate other flowers and plants, flowers that bloom a certain time, flowers painted with colors to attract a certain pollinator, flowers with scents to beguile the unassuming pollinator, flowers that have deadly traps to punish selfish and greedy pollinators, flowers with defenses to protect their pollens and safeguard against self-pollination, flowers that help thrive our ecosystem.... and flowers that are now sitting in our homes, blooming and shedding their petals which were engineered to be of a certain color and to withstand temperatures asynchronous to the seasons. Humans enter the scene. I have never found a rose to carry a scintillating smell, and have often wondered why it was so celebrated for its scent. Well of course, artificially bred roses have discarded the need to produce scent... why work so hard to produce scent when there is no pressure to lure bees? Sigh... the very essence of nature now sits smiling at us with its hybridized unnatural-sized petals, and no scent. In the future, roses can be made to smell like lemons, they can be blue, and can be made to last for a long long time. Would it still be a rose to me? Would it still captivate me? And would the bees, the butterflies and our ecosystem be much the same?

Tough questions, uneasy answers. We don’t know how to define the line between natural and unnatural. On the one hand it is exciting and on the other hand it is ominous. It’s an addition to the growing food for thought on preserving nature.

Having rambled quite a bit, I must say that the one disappointing thing about the book was the lack of photographs or colored pictures of flowers to feast our eyes on, as we delve into their elegant design.

The Bygone Season of Colors

This post was deferred for long - primarily due to my laziness. But now that summer has graced us and tiptoed without a trace, it’s about time I recorded these moments of glory and joy for the sake of posterity, and well, just to vent out my happiness. It might surely seem like I’m tooting my own little horn without any shred of modesty or humility by writing such posts, but how else am I to share my happiness in this little space into which I pour out so many of my deepest thoughts and emotions?

This summer has been one of the most eventful periods of my life - marked especially by the bounty we reaped from our garden. It’s become an obsession of mine to grow flowers, fruits and vegetables. Regardless of whether I am successful or unsuccessful in some of these attempts, the whole process brings me indescribable contentment, and weirdly enough, some meaning to my summers.

Despite my raucous protests to plant more flowers this year, I was shushed and was asked to concentrate on growing some vegetables this year. I mulled this over and reluctantly agreed that it’s better to not bite off more than I could chew. Despite all the sense in that statement,  I couldn’t get by without planting any new flowers! Especially after dreaming of them! 

I literally dreamed of huge, merry sunflowers sprouting jubilantly from the front of the house, creeping and towering their way to the clouds,  and shining down at me so warmly, that I could feel myself melting under their benevolent gaze! I definitely  needed flowers that could cast such warmth and happiness! Although they took their time to open out, and the flowers themselves lasted for just a little more than a week, we immensely enjoyed the two varieties of sunflowers! 

 

To contrast nicely with the bright yellows, I picked out purple morning glories, and baby-blue eyes. And I promptly fell in love with the baby-blue flowers!!
 

It was a little bit of a disappointment to me that  the morning glories quite faithfully bloomed bright  and early in the morning and wilted by noon (point in case - it shows how little attention I paid to the nature of the flowers, and how I was swept away by the beautiful pictures of them!). However, they re-blossomed every morning for about a month, so I shouldn’t be complaining much! I adored their deep rich purples with just the right strokes of yellow in their core! Nature is the best artist ever! While the baby-blues were extremely pleasing with their charming delicate blues, they were a tad too small to contrast the magnificent sun flowers. Still, I loved how they drooped in their delicate bunches, and continue to sustain even in September!

However, I failed at growing poppies and cone-flowers... not sure why, but they are definitely roll-over challenges for next year! Finally, marigolds  will surely be my indispensable flower every year!

Spring-Time Prayer

After all these months of bareness, the air now holds the promise of new life. The spell has started working on those gangly branches which were previously casting ghostly shadows, stark and eerie against the moonlight. Now there are little spurts of baby green bursting curiously out of wooden fingers, smiling drops of dew. The garden transforms with every passing day as I slip into my pleasurable activity of counting new buds and new sprigs of leaves with sweet anticipation.

It is that time when Nature dips her brush in vats of bright, beautiful paints and splashes the frost bitten canvas with florid hues. Myriad little buds have popped out, their chubby seams bursting with the color of their precious petals, as delicate as an infant's pink-tinted curled fingers. The daffodils cheer the rain and wind, their yellow faces laughing merrily. Herbs crawl out of their withered shells, releasing tiny pockets of flavor as they eagerly wriggle out to be pinched and appreciated. Yummy vegetable seeds gently clamber out of the soil, bearing wispy green feathers, steadily rooting into the soil and reaching out to the sun. Soft cherry blossoms hang in ornate blooms on swooping branches that were weeping till yesterday. I will never understand how the branches can gush with such dainty pink-cotton tufts within one cool night. If only I could cast a spell and hold them on the tree forever.

With the fragrance of Spring bubbling in each atom, with Nature bearing her numerous pretty children in her womb, isn't it utterly cruel and unfair when the Icy chill decides to return, its vampire fangs eager to sink into the fecund Earth? The happy Spring tune dies down, the sun is washed out with angry clouds and hale and flurries threaten our land. Why would Nature allow this? I whimper along with the silent cries of the buds and sprigs in the garden. Mr. Chill, please look at the happy, innocent faces of the cherry blossoms. I beg you to find any trace of mercy to spare them. Please. You had your fun for six long months and we bore your bites patiently. When the bite-wounds are trying to heal and as we await the monochromatic parched Earth to revive, please don't brutally snatch the precious colors away. Please. My fervent prayers. For you see, my nourishment lies in these little cherubic buds.

The Farewell-Blooms

It's that time of the year again - time to say goodbye to all the colors and cheer as I frown at the greens turning yellow, orange and a dusty brown. The flora having had their party want to retire and I hate the foreboding gloom threatening to set in. Soon I'll wake up to shedding trees and listen to my heart sink. I'll walk on the colored crumple and wish I could stick each one back on the branches and cast a spell to make them turn the merriest of green. But, nature waits for none. She has her cycle and I'm a tiny speck of indignation, to be ignored as a buzzing fly. And so, all I have are the last traces of color and vitality to feast my eyes and spirits on before the morbid Ice Queen shows up. And what better boost can I get than seeing my planted seeds and bulbs spring up to dance their finale and bid goodbye?

Marigolds - the most simplest, and probably most abundantly common flower known to us. Yet the dainty clumps of yellows and oranges are one of the most happiest little flowers. So easy to grow, I have learned my lesson to plant LOTS of them ( a thicket full), earlier in spring to enjoy the blooms for a good 4 months.

And this is the first time I've ever happened to see a green flower... sure I have seen tender jasmines with green streaks on their pristine white, but never have I seen or heard of a flower that is completely green so as to match it's stalk. Well, imagine my surprise and "pride" when a couple of gladioli bulbs that I planted are now churning out green flowers! Despite playing such a minimal role in both the nature and nurture aspect of this creation, I know I'm coming across as - er, a braggart. But oh well. Also, there are plenty of red ones next to them, making quite a contrast. I couldn't be happier!

These are my farewell-blooms, the last of the lot to show up and spread some merry light, before they wilt and hibernate. But with a few successful batches of plants this year,(yielding a total of 42 flowers - meticulously counted by yours truly- the nerdiest of nerds), I have a whole list of projects for next spring and summer and I eagerly wait for the months to speed by. Sure, Fall is beautiful too with pretty leaves, and snow is - well, nice and pretty to look at, snowmen are fun and there will be holidays. So there are things to look forward to...

It's silly how these plants gave a lot of "meaning" to my summer. I always had something to look forward to, and like a doting parent I've been proudly showing them off to anyone who passes by them, and terribly miss them when they have wilted. Hmm... that makes me sound like I was a totally jobless person this summer! Well, enough of rambling... enjoy your farewell-blooms and verdant lawns as much as you can, for Fall is creeping in fast! Happy Fall :)

The Joy of Creation

For the very first time in my life I decided to not merely be a spectator with wistful eyes. I decided I would do it, that I will create my own little beings, without ever longingly looking at others'. I had yearned for them enough, I had been captivated by them enough, I had started to learn fairly sufficiently about raising and caring for them enough, that this year when there was a home waiting to be filled with these beautiful beings and their colorful vivacity, I waited no further. Deciding on how many, how and when to care for them were the obvious concerns. With some counseling from the Internet, and an experienced biologist, I embarked on the adventure. And I'd assumed that the whole process would be a breeze, for isn't this nature's most experienced domain? And with a loving and nurturing environment to grow into, with all the love and food being gushed into them, with a sunny cheerfulness of me cajoling and talking to them, I would have thought I was lending Nature a friendly boost, a great helping hand to speed up the process.


But sadly no... one cannot plan such things, one cannot demand creation, they happen when they want to, despite numerous expensive food and minerals, making the womb as cosy, warm and moist as possible. No, not enough. Despite all the pain staking measures, some fizzled away, never to spark up, being prey to microbial, and not so microbial predators and diseases. Made me want to kick myself for having not seen the signs, for having not consulted or read more. Only my tears of anticipation were wasted on them... i thought of myself as the noble nightingale who sang away her life on a pierced thorn to give blushing life to a pale rose. But no, none of such antics worked... sentiments were wasted, "just be scientific", the little embryos seemed to yell. And so I tried. With regular checkups, tireless care, constant prayers, the rigor continued for some weeks.


Then at last, I could see the little ones growing, their delicate limbs sprouting out and innocently looking into the world. Oh how I merrily went in circles, so proud, so happy. "There's still a long way to go, no time for celebrations yet", some mean ones reminded. So I restrained, yet gleefully optimistic for them to soon open their eyes, and show their cheerful and pink faces. Weeks sped by and I began to wear out my enthusiasm, the little ones were constantly growing, limbs and bodies fully developed and I didn't know how much longer I had to wait....And then it happened. A week before today was the day... the day of new beginnings. The pink face opened up to me and I couldn't believe I had finally been a part of creation, right from it's little seed to the blushing beauty she is today! And one by one, they have started to come out... 11 till today to be exact. Too many you think?!... Nah... I still expect more than a dozen more... of course with fingers crossed!


And today I present these lovely babies, my joyful "creations", after two whole months of waiting ;)

Of course introductions are in order. The pink one is a Rain Lily, the abundant violet ones (the most successful and promising ones!) are Anemones and in the upper corner is a Calla Lily just about to blossom all the way out. I never thought I could post pictures of my own flowers, like those enviable garden bloggers, but I have come close! As more babies (hopefully) bloom out, there will be more cheer and celebration in this space!


And also, a valuable lesson learnt in the journey - extremely cute, seemingly innocuous bunnies will clear up struggling tomatoes and cauliflower leaves faster than a swarm of locust. Beware of their cuteness.