princess prunus mume

I have a pet tree. She will probably spend her whole life in her pot so i can drag her into the glasshouse so i can behold her when she blooms. That's the best i can do for an alter. Not for her the rude lashings of rain and snow that leave her petals sodden & limp. As for me i am too selfish to share one flower's worth of that knee-buckling cinnamon-sugar-confection fragrance with the wind and clouds and even birds.

This is one of the rare flowers in the garden that i don't pimp. I make no attempts to wring the scent out of her by distillation or enfleurage.  I injoy her scent just as she is, in her own hour of the year.

winter tuberoses

We overshot Christmas. I say 'we' as i was driving. There were two plants that decided to throw up flower stalks in early November.  Instead of moving them into the warmer house when i lifted them, as opposed to the cooler glasshouse, i forestalled their opening. (You will find the practice of tuberoses for Christmas in the type of gardening books that crumble and lose pages if you are not careful while reading. Such ideas are antique and i think due for a revival.)

Even though i learned my lesson in temperature and timing, i am not going to mind Anytime a tuberose wants to bloom. Indeed, in the quiet aftermath of holiday hoopla, they garner more attention. The odd time of year that these are choosing to bloom only adds to the mystic and to have their decadent scent wafting around the house at night, when all other fragrance is with Persephone, is commanding. This is not background music.

Twas back in August when i started the tuberose enfleurage tray (the process of laying down flowers in 'fat', to absorb the fragrance) and each night i pick the blooms that have opened, at the moment of highest decibels and lay them down to give up their magic.