Night Bloom
Once a year, The Arizona Queen of the Night – known as the Night Blooming Cereus (peniocereus greggii) – puts on a spectacular visual and olfactory show.
Largely unnoticed and ignored, this twiggy-in-appearance tuber demands attention on one special night. Bloom night occurred on June 18 this year, a time when nearly all the wild (and potted) cereuses bloom in unison, blanketing areas of the Arizona desert in a milk-and-honey-sweet perfume.
So captivated am I by this magical flower that it has made its way into my fiction (below). Don’t forget to click to enlarge the images; these photos were taken in my back yard. Two of my six Queens produced three blooms – the largest number yet, from my young plants.
She held her breath and listened. A small crackle, like the page of a book turning, rose from the plant. “Do you hear that?” They looked toward a bulb stirring, as if wind kissed. Maybe it was her own hope moving it. “It’s happening,” she said, the breath catching in her throat. It would take hours for the flowers to fully open. “Look – you can see inside.” She shined the light on the top of the blossom, revealing a tiny opening where the once-converging petals began to pull apart from the tip.
Soon the softball-sized globes would open completely, their petals nearly horizontal, stamen rising to meet the moon. Spurred by sundown, they would quiver under the cool breeze. Then upon sunrise, the white balls would close, the flowers dropping off days later, wilted, returned to the desert floor.
She looked at the white- and pink- petaled cups before her, gleaming like angel wings. She was humbled by the quickness of it, the life that had arisen before her eyes.
She was struck by the sadness that it would be gone tomorrow, fallen to the ground in the next few days. Returned to dust. But how gloriously and spectacularly it had lived.
For Readers, Writers, Everyone: Is there beauty in death? Can you think of any novels that explore that theme or instances in nature where a living thing seems too short for this Earth?
June 24th, 2016 at 6:27 am
What an amazing flower I have never heard of it before . Your photography is perfection . Thank you for bringing to our attention …here in the uk we could d with sme uplifting news ? Hey ! I wish we a smell-e-mail .
Cherryx
[Reply]
Melissa Crytzer Fry Reply:
June 24th, 2016 at 6:45 am
It truly is one of the ugliest little plants you’ll ever see — except for this one night. I wish you could smell it, too; it’s unlike any other scent I’ve experienced.
Yes, of course I’ve heard the news coming from across the pond… hope this cheers you just a teeny bit.
[Reply]
June 24th, 2016 at 8:50 am
What a glorious post, Melissa! Thank you for sharing some of that magic with us. And that novel excerpt is beautiful and lyrical, which I never doubted. Looking forward to reading the completed work one day! 🙂
[Reply]
Melissa Crytzer Fry Reply:
June 24th, 2016 at 7:26 pm
Thanks for your support, Jolina. That novel is tucked away in a drawer, and I’m working on number three :-).
[Reply]
June 24th, 2016 at 9:51 am
Melissa, Wow! Lucky you and fantastic job. The flowers are magnificent and breathtaking and the photos superb! Has Tucson been as hot as Phoenix? It reached 120 at my brother’s house and their power went out for several hours. I miss AZ, but not days like those!
[Reply]
Melissa Crytzer Fry Reply:
June 24th, 2016 at 7:27 pm
Hi Linda. We aren’t quite as hot as Phoenix — maybe about 5-degrees cooler — but we’ve registered our own 115s as of late. Yes, HOT. This time of year I have no qualms setting water out for the birds and bunnies and deer passing by. Of course, that also means more bees…
[Reply]
June 24th, 2016 at 12:19 pm
Awesome post. The photos are just gorgeous. And, as you well know, I love the snippets from your novel manuscript (because I loved the entire manuscript). Thanks for sharing!
[Reply]
Melissa Crytzer Fry Reply:
June 24th, 2016 at 7:29 pm
Thank you, Jessica (and for the Twitter and Facebook shout-outs). Yes, you are my no. 1 supporter of this manuscript, and for that I’m eternally grateful.
[Reply]
June 24th, 2016 at 1:11 pm
Melissa, thank you so much for sharing the photos & beautifully written words. I use to have that cacti in my front yard, always looked forward to the amazing flowers it had.
[Reply]
Melissa Crytzer Fry Reply:
June 24th, 2016 at 7:30 pm
I’m so glad you had one of these plants, Mary Ann — so that you, too, could enjoy their beauty. Maybe it’s time to get another? 😉
[Reply]
June 24th, 2016 at 5:58 pm
So many thoughts racing through my head. I miss sharing the magnificent cereus blooms, sharing the walk at the Tohono Chul Park with you, the heat of the desert and the all encompassing fragrance that these blooms make to attract the large moths that pollinate them. It is wonderful that your very own plants are giving you their gift to experience. Your novel manuscript is a true experience of this phenomenon. Thank you for sharing the beauty of the Sonoran desert.
[Reply]
Melissa Crytzer Fry Reply:
June 24th, 2016 at 7:33 pm
Oh, Kathy — how can I not think of you every year this spectacular event occurs? And yes, the Sphinx Moth! Wouldn’t it be great if some wild cereus plants popped up around our hillside — or anywhere on the property — as a result of the scattering of some of the seeds from those bright-red fruits that I hope will result from pollination? I’d love to see my transplants create a legacy of their own! And the fragrance, yes. It was sweet and strong blowing down the hillside that night…
[Reply]
June 26th, 2016 at 5:18 pm
Gorgeous flower and gorgeous photos, Melissa!
What creatures are able to take advantage of the flower nectar on this one special night? Is there a nocturnal bird or insect that enjoys it?
[Reply]
Melissa Crytzer Fry Reply:
June 26th, 2016 at 5:50 pm
The Sphinx Moth is the primary pollinator, in whose fate the plant rests. If the Sphinx Moth arrives, we get gorgeous red fruits that help propagate future Queens. If she doesn’t….
(I also see lots of ants climbing all over the flowers the next day).
[Reply]
June 26th, 2016 at 10:28 pm
What a gorgeous flower! And so beautiful how you worked the description into your writing. Can’t wait to read more one day!
[Reply]
July 5th, 2016 at 1:13 pm
I’m always so happy to see you in my Bloglovin’ feed! Gorgeous photos and just thrilled to see what you’re up to.
[Reply]
July 6th, 2016 at 9:17 am
Wow, I’m super jealous of what sounds like a magical experience. What it is about night-blooming flowers that’s so special? I’ve always been incredibly charmed by nighttime jasmine, too. There *is* beauty in death. Just look at Keats and Poe; it inspired much of their best work!
[Reply]
Melissa Crytzer Fry Reply:
August 1st, 2016 at 9:39 am
I can’t put my finger on it… Maybe the quickness of life… the moon shining down?
[Reply]