The pepper pups have been replanted.

Rain and the Vanishing Flowers

All week, the forecast has predicted plenty of rain, yet the weather has not quite delivered. Having more faith in the weather report than I should, I refrained from watering my outdoor plants, assuming the sky would take care of them. Safe to say, my plants were none too pleased. Except the rosemary. That Mediterranean goddess can handle the hot sun and dry soil like a champ.

Thankfully, after drenching the pots (immediately followed by thunderstorms, of course), the basil in particular has perked up again, although we lost some leaves. The rosemary was probably wondering what the flark I was doing, giving so much water.

I think the spearmint was the most grateful for the drink. Of interest, I swear that it had flowered in the early AM, before I gave it water. Silly me, I didn’t take a picture beforehand, and when I returned an hour later, any trace of flowers had disappeared. Without the pictorial proof, I have wondered whether I really did see the flowers, or only imagined it. Logically, though, plants under stress – such as a dehydrated mint – will produce flowers, as a last minute attempt to continue its genetic code via offspring. I’m sure it won’t be the last time we go down this road.

Zebrina Zombie

Meanwhile, on the other side of the house, we have a plant – that I assumed to be a goner – make a remarkable rebound. I found what I believe were fungus gnats in the soil of some Tradescantia zebrina, and I immediately relocated the pot outside, hoping the gnats did not have a chance to infect the other plants (so far it seems not). The T. zebrina already looked rather dilapidated, and I assumed it had one ‘root’ in the grave. About three weeks later, I go to deal with the infected soil, but lo and behold, the T. zebrina is lush and thriving. Blossoming. Utterly content beyond the horizon of my attention. The cheeky blighter.

I wonder if the heat of the direct sun may have scorched anything unfavorable on the surface of the soil, and dried out any decay underneath. Additionally, I just so happened to place the pot near the birdfeeder; mayhaps I unintentionally set out a second ‘birdfeeder,’ since birds do consume fungus gnats. Thanks, birds.

Not My First Zombie

The T. zebrina is actually my second zombie plant encounter. The first one was a result of Covid. During the pandemic, my work office closed and my desk plant was left alone, for over a year, receiving no water. Dear, sweat Ella Jr was a succulent cutting gift from a friend, and I was a bit devastated to lose the green baby that had somehow survived for a year previously under my care. When I finally returned to the office, she certainly looked long gone. Another friend, however, advised that the pup could be easily revived with some hydration. With much skepticism but nothing to lose, I gave it a go. She came back. The great Ella Jr, Zombie Plant.

Gratitude

To all the plants that bounce back