All Praise the Common Houseplant
“All the leaves are brown and the sky is
gray…”
California
Dreaming, John
Phillips and Michelle Phillips
The winter of 2017-2018
will be remembered as the one when the leaves forgot to fall from the
trees. It wasn’t the trees’ fault, of
course, it was a combination of a too-warm October coupled with copious rain
that caused trees to produce too little of the chemical that tells leaves it’s
time to decamp for their golden future as compost. As a result, the view out my window, since
early November, has been a sad blend of browns and grays. Welcome to
winter in eastern Massachusetts, a condition that will persist in some
variation for the next three months.
Which is why this essay is
all about houseplants and why they’re treasured in this household.
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| This croton - now more than a decade old - tolerates winter's low sunlight yet provides glorious color |
I grew up with year-round
outdoor greenery and flowers. Nominally, I appreciated that
subtropical splendor. In reality, it was part of a background that I
took for granted and too often found inconvenient. When periodically
ordered to cut back the hibiscus hedge or grub out the aracea palms
that were spreading into the lawn, I piled imaginary term papers on top of one
another as excuses not to sully my hands with such chores (to no avail, of
course).
This morning, I marveled at
our multiple crotons (formally, Codiaeum variegatum) that provide
a rainbow of reds, yellows and greens in each leaf, yet tolerate the weak light
of January and February. Back in Florida, they were just one more
thing on my to-do list of plants to be clipped back before they overflowed onto
the sun porch.
There are cultivars of
begonias in many rooms, each an adventure to be appreciated. A Rex
Begonia 'Paso Doble’ that bloomed prolifically on our screened porch all summer
still provides a wonderful palette of reds and pinks in its leaves as it
brightens our bedroom. How many plants
can make that claim?
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| This Rex Begonia 'Paso Doble' spent its summer on our screened porch. It has made the transition to indoors. |
A houseplant need not be
exotic, or even in bloom, to provide visual enjoyment. Ferns occupy ledges and shelves in several
rooms. A single peace lily (Spathiphyllum)
received as gift a decade ago has begat dozens of offspring that populate not
only our own home but those of friends. They are cheerfully green the year
round. This time of year, their regal white flowers – plain by the
standards set by many other plants – are welcome additions to rooms’
color.
We purchase houseplants
that appeal to us. Some have lofty pedigrees from famous
nurseries. Others are commoners. There
is a kalanchoe next to me as this is
written. It is one of the most ordinary of houseplants, yet it is budding up in
yellow for its umpteenth annual display of winter color atop leather-tough,
dark-green leaves.
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| A simple fern provides a spot of color amid a gloomy backdrop |
A few of our plants are
snowbirds. The cyclamen in our kitchen window spent six months last
year planted in our garden, where it strengthened its root system and bulb even
as its foliage needed to be shaded from the sun. Dug in October, it is now in the early stage
of a winter bloom of majestic purple. Thanks to tissue cultures, the availability
and variety of orchids has proliferated even as their price has
plummeted. Nor are houseplants necessarily greedy. Philodendron and
cacti seem to thrive with minimal attention (a Sanseveria trifoliate,
better known as ‘Mother-in-Law’s tongue’, survived in my Aunt
Virginia's house for decades with little more than periodic dusting).
We have more than thirty
houseplants this winter, a happy mix of the ordinary and the
extraordinary. There is no rhyme or reason to what we
have. Each plant came to us through serendipity; each remains
because it has thrived in our home.
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| Me, in a warmer clime, avoiding trimming back the hibiscus |
I don’t often offer
unsolicited advice, but here is some: if you're here in New England or some
place with a 'real' winter, this weekend, take a trip to a nursery with a
selection of blooming houseplants. If one (or more) strikes your
fancy, take it home with you.
And, if you happen to be
reading this from a subtropical climate, stop complaining and go out and trim
back the hibiscus like you were told to.
