Moonflower

Well, that was hard work! Pushing through the hard earth is tiring enough, but then there was the snow to contend with. The powdery fluff on top isn’t the problem; it’s the impacted icy layer underneath that I had to push through first. I don’t have sword-shaped leaves for nothing, but they are rather thin for this heavy duty stuff. I think back to how cosy it was curled up in my corm under the soil; those were the days.

It was the dead of night when I first peeked out, and there was something very magical about the way my snowflake-covered leaves glistened in the light of the new moon. That’s when I decided to become a moonflower. A few nights later, as the moon waxed, and I could see more, I thought at first I had gone blue with cold. When I looked properly though, I was clothed in a beautiful salverform gown in delicate purple.

I had learned in the corm that I am supposed to sleep during the night, and then open up my petals to the sun. They even have a word for it apparently: nyctinasty. Sounds very nasty, doesn’t it? Well, I’m sorry, but there was no way I was going to be showing my stamens and style to anyone in the full light of day. I resolved to wake in the night instead, and make moon wishes. Night by night, I admired the reflections on the new falls of snow, and marvelled at the mystical stars. At first I quite enjoyed the quiet, but then I began to get a little lonely with no-one to share the joy.

When the moon was full and potent, I tapped into its power, and wished for the one thing that would make my existence perfect – some company. And there it was, my saffron yellow heart’s desire! As the moon waned, two crocuses enjoyed the nights side by side. Some say it should be croci, but as far as we are concerned there is no I in Us.