Two weeks ago, too heavy with bloom I presume, much of my Kalanchoe fell out of its container.
So heavy were the stems that they tore themselves off at the root simply from the mass of flowers, leaves and stem. Could be I overwatered and the succulent stems stored moisture until they were too heavy. Or: this may also simply be part of the plant’s reproductive strategy, and I am merely a different kind of bee.
It had been in bloom for nearly three months, indoors of course, as it is a tropical plant, an exotic from places like Madagascar, and from eons of genetic memory still prefers to bloom during our winter. The stems that fell out were so loaded with dead-gorgeous glossy green leaves and clusters of small, orange-red, 4-petalled flowers that I pulled out a glass vase and a glass preserve jar and put a couple stems, along with water, in each container, and put them back on window benches so I could spread the spectacle of its particular danse-chorale wider and deeper into this slow Spring.
Already each stem has grown roots ready to become new plantings, and enough of the original plant remained in the container for a healthy regrowth as soon as it is warm enough to put it outdoors.
In the meantime today was the day to make a visual record under natural light and without embellishment of any kind just to celebrate an ordinary Kalanchoe’s extraordinary interpretation / meditation / grasp and poetic take on the grace of being.
fillière 