|The "plant" in question...|
So, here is a plant that I saved from certain doom, a couple of days ago. I woke up one morning to find this robust plant, sitting roots in the air, main root shorn off to within millimeters of dismantling the plant and rendering it a pile of twigs, crying out in pain like only a plant can. I thought about putting it off for a second, you know, because I hadn't yet grabbed myself a cup of tea yet. Still, watching it suffer, and God knows how long it had been laying there like this, exposed and dying, in plain sight. So, I grabbed a spoon -- don't worry, I washed it thoroughly, and I mean "thuh-roh-leeeeee" -- and set about loosening up some of the earth in the strip-garden that greets us outside our front door. I found a few pieces of broken brick to help secure the weight of its spreading branches and keep it from moving around and tearing the roots out of the ground again. And, when I was done with this strange lab experiment in my front yard, I watered it a bit to help it take to its new surroundings, and the slapdash emergency manoeuvre that I had just attempted.
Day two, yesterday, it looked a little iffy. Okay, more than iffy. All the leaves had drooped, and the plant seemed to sag with the weight of impending death. In a last ditch effort, I watered it some more and hoped for the best. This morning, I rushed out the moment I'd managed to get on my feet to check on its condition, and voila. Talk about being greeted by a beautiful sight, to say the least.
And then, when I looked at it, I noticed that what had otherwise seemed an ordinary croton in the garden, was really quite a beautiful specimen of subtle flower. I say "subtle flower" because compared to the bright green and deep red pattern of its leaves, the pale violet-lavender of the minuscule, pagoda-like flowers is a mere addition to perfection - unnecessary. Think of it like the extra cheese on a cheese pizza. So it puzzled me a bit that this would be a viable strategy for survival in Nature. I guess there was more to it than met my nature-blind human eye, or any of my other useless senses could detect. Smell? With my nose-deaf self? Didn't even try it.
I came back indoors and after transferring these pictures to my netbook, I decided to have a look-see at how much detail my roommate Daya's trusty Sony Cyber-shot DSC-W35 managed to capture at the "7.2 Megapixels" that it boasted. True to its claim, I'm happy to say -- because it's quite a rugged little camera that isn't afraid of a little rough-and-tumble, 4-wheel-drive existence -- and disregarding the fact that no matter how hard I tried to wait till the breeze died down to naught I didn't manage, it still managed to capture at least one little flower, or "flowerette" if you will, in good enough detail. Remember, this is with after-the-fact zoom, kind of like you see on TV with all those FBI-slash-Cop dramas.
I still have no idea what plant this is, by the way. My landlord is not in town at the moment, so if any of you know then please let us all know. I don't think he's back for another couple of weeks. Trust me, the suspense will kill me...if not suddenly, definitely "slowly, but surely". ;)