Yesterday was the day! The two buds on the night-blooming cereus were ready to open and I wanted to capture the once-a-year event.
They don't open till dark--around 8:30 here.
And it's a very gradual process . . .
Accompanied by a heavenly fragrance to lure pollinators.
The interior holds a complicated arrangement of pistil and stamens, just waiting for those pollinators --bats and/or moths. (I doubt we have either in the greenhouse where this plant lives.)
I took my last photo at 10:30.
The flowers will continue to open but I needed to choose which pictures to post (I took around eighty) and go to bed.
I'm happy I didn't miss it. Come daylight, the blooms will be wilted and that's it for another year.
My other cereus bloomed two or three days ago--and I didn't realize it had till I was met by this sad sight the next morning.
These flowers are so special to me--I remember back in Florida my grandparents had one growing up a pine tree in their back yard. It reached high, high up and my grandfather kept a close watch on it around this time of year.
When he knew it would open, he'd alert friends and a magical event would occur as they gathered with flashlights to count the blooms--anywhere from ninety to a hundred.
I had only two--and no viewing party. But it's like my porch garden and that one-foot waterfall--they still give pleasure.
