As with all love affairs, I prefer to think it spotted me first. It began innocently enough - a sunbeam exposed what appeared from afar to be an explosion of floral fireworks waving in the wind.
Intrigued, I ushered my group over for a closer inspection, and was instantly smitten by rosettes of thick, succulent emerald leaves, wands of dainty cherry-pink flowers, and exquisite, jewel-like, carmel-colored seedpods resembling candy apples.
The worn label identified the object of my curiosity as Talinum paniculatum, a pot herb indigenous to the West Indies and northern Africa, now naturalized in the southeastern U.S. The elements had rendered the plant's common name indiscernible; for me, this only added to its allure.
I resisted the temptation to swipe a seedpod.
As fortune would have it, the Jewels of Opar were surrounded by a lunchtime crowd of admirers. I asked if anyone knew its common name. No one did, but an office worker volunteered that she dubbed it "commuter's plant" as the flowers didn't open until late afternoon as she headed to the subway for the long ride home.
I decided to seek professional help. Off I went to the curator's office, followed by a posse of 25 fellow plant fanatics. The staff was very obliging; the head gardener said the common name was Jewels of Opar, and that Opar (also spelled Ophar) was most likely a reference to the ancient African city from which frankincense and gold were hauled by caravan to Solomon's treasury.
A member of the Portulaca family, it earned its place in the herb garden because in earlier times the leaves were boiled and eaten. Ten-inch panicles of ephemeral, star-shaped pink (or occasionally yellow) flowers crown the plants year-round, unless cut down by frost. She also noted that the seed pods were valued by floral designers as a substitute for the ubiquitous baby's breath.
And no, plants weren't available in the trade, as it was mainly a pass-along plant. Sensing my disappointment, she graciously offered to part with a few seedpods. I drooled my thanks, tucked my precious seeds safely into the pocket of my jeans, and promptly forgot about them.
Until it was almost too late.
They went unnoticed through the laundry twice. Luckily, the seeds sustained no damage; in fact they all germinated readily in a span of 10 days.
Go To Page: 1 2
