Visit the Kelpforest (pt. 2)

My garden club is fun, but not usually very exciting. We are a group of middle-aged to elderly ladies - again, I'm one of the younger ones. Angus came with me last night and sat there scribbling with a pen on a page from my planner (he brought Megatron with him, but I told him Megatron made any noise, his batteries were getting taken out) . Carole gave a few hints on flower arranging, and Angela was going to talk about native plants. It turns out hardly any of us grow any; I have some evening primrose in one of my planters, but it's probably from Mexico.

Just to show it off, Angela had brought in her night-blooming cereus cactus, which had a big flower bud on it. Linda was talking about hers, saying "We know ours are about to open when the bud starts tipping up - then we know we have to watch it that night, or we'll miss it."

Someone else said "Like that?" pointing at Angela's.

"No, not really," Linda replied, and the talk moved on to other things.

Not more than two minutes later I glanced at Angela's cactus again. And was surprised to notice that the bud was half-open!

I pointed it out, and all club business ceased while we all oohed and aahed. I pulled out my camera and took Angela's picture with it. Talk about perfect timing!



Over the next fifteen minutes or so, the bloom opened completely, and we could all smell the fragrance coming from it. You could actually see some of petals snapping further open; the outermost petals were completely recurved against the stem.

Well, it's not the gigantic Corpse Flower (Amorphophallus titanum) that blooms at the Huntington Library every two years (and makes every local news broadcast), but we thought it was pretty exciting, even Angus.