Jewel-like clivia flowers in my garden |
Suddenly, it was upon me. Two excited
and very large dogs herded me to rows of shadecloth-protected tables, groaning
under the weight of plants. There, I met a woman called Stella. These plants,
all of them, were so clearly her babies.
Stella noticed my awe of her clivias – the
adults with their jewel-like flowers and the vast trays of infant plants. So
she reached for a clivia’s fat red berry and began gently rubbing away at its
skin.
Slowly, one pearl-like seed emerged, and another and another. “This is how you do it,” she told me, and then handed the seeds to me.
Slowly, one pearl-like seed emerged, and another and another. “This is how you do it,” she told me, and then handed the seeds to me.
Stella’s
seeds and their grandchildren
Stella’s farm nursery, sadly, is closed
these days. But since our encounter, I’ve never bought another clivia plant.
I’ve grown all of mine from seed, and I’m sure some are the grandchildren of
those that came from Stella. And now, in springtime, I can’t keep my hands (or
eyes) off my clivias, also known as “bush lillies”. It’s definitely the time
for making babies.
Fresh from my foray into seed germination, I see the fruit hanging off the clivia among this spring’s flowers. Thankfully,
I don’t battle with growing clivias from seed as I do with other plants
(perhaps because these seeds are so big?).
Seeds newly harvested and laid on a sandy medium |
A couple of years later, almost ready for planting out |
Wild
abandon
What I should do is separate the seeds of the two varieties so that
they can be correctly labelled. I don’t do that, but then I don’t mind the
varieties getting mixed up some kind of wild abandon in the garden. Next time.
Labour of love
I find a comfy spot to relax, and I begin opening the fleshy fruit and
releasing the seeds from the membranes that keep them together and prevent
water from penetrating the seeds (this could cause rot and fungus). It is a
labour of love: it has to be because it can’t be rushed. At this point, some people will wash the
seeds in a bleach or peroxide solution to prevent any possible fungus
infection. I never have; I don’t think Stella did.
Then I lay the pearly seeds onto a bed of
quite sandy soil, pushing them down just a little, not to bury them, but more to
secure them in the soil. And I will water them regularly.
Close-up of the seed |
From experience, I know that it will take a
month or two for germination to start. And it is delightful: each seed sends
out a tentative green shoot, which then twists itself into the soil. It will take a year or two before they get
big enough to plant out into the garden. And it will take three to four years
before we start seeing flowers.
The wait pales into nothing when you’re rewarded with your very own homegrown clivias. I promise.
The wait pales into nothing when you’re rewarded with your very own homegrown clivias. I promise.
The flowers offer a vast array of colours |
Good pix
ReplyDeleteAh, thank you! It's a non-stop learning process. I get a bit frustrated with the picture placement restrictions ... but that's probably because I don't know what I am doing.
ReplyDelete