Oct 02
2007
Experimental Garden – Moon Flowers
Back to gardening! (At least until I get all my Vegas stories written.) After stalking it either too early or too late in the day several times, I finally was able to capture a picture of the flowering moon flower vine.
The moon flower is one of several flowers I planted as part of my experimental garden this summer.
Moon flower blooming in the dark of night
See, I have a super-scientific method of identifying the flowers that get the honor of going into my experimental garden. Here is the step-by-step process.
1. I mosey up to the seed display at my local garden center.
2. I scratch my head and think reeeeaaaalllyyyy hard about all the seed packets, considering carefully all the pretty pictures in bright colors. (I tend to prefer seed packets with drawings rather than photos. I think it’s because it helps me to fit these fantasy flowers more easily into the fantasy garden I carry around in my head.)
3. I pick up a packet, read the back of the packet instructions and descriptions, put the packet back and instantly forget what it said. I usually go through about 30 or so turns at this.
4. Finally, overwhelmed with all the information and choices, I just pick the pictures I think are pretty, without regard at all to instructions or descriptions.
Pretty cool method, huh? The beauty of this approach is that I never, ever know what I’ll end up with.This year, one of my picks was the moon flower.
I started the moon flower seeds in my indoor light garden–ending up with about eight seedlings. I had no idea where to put them, so they languished in their seed pots on my front porch for at least a couple of weeks while I gave careful consideration to where they should go. After much deliberation, I plunked them next to the garden fence in the flower bed.
I really thought that they had died because I didn’t even notice them for quite a long time after that. Now, please understand that my attention was taken up with drought, hollyhock rust and other assorted disasters of the garden variety. When I finally noticed them, it is because I was weeding and accidentally snatched up two of the plants before I realized the error of my ways. Instantly, I shoved them back into the soil and gave them my sincere apologies.
I kept an eye on them but wasn’t much impressed for some time.
Then…The other day, I was gazing out at the garden just as the sun was rising and thought I saw what looked like several pieces of trash that had blown against the fence. I was baffled by this because it would be a long journey for trash to make it into our yard, given that we live far far away from our neighbors and the trash would have to make the trip through the woods. Our trash, of course, is never allowed out to roam, so it couldn’t have been ours.
Well, curious gal that I am, I ambled outside with my coffee to see just what this trash was. Imagine my surprise to find flowers. Moon flowers!
They’re HUGE! I would say they’re about as big as my hand and perfectly white. They almost don’t look real the flowers are so very perfect. The vines have become quite healthy and spread everywhere–even onto the wind gauge for my new weather station.
Those wacky moon flower vines on my wind gauge
I was so happy with them that I went to show my husband the flowers later in the day. Guess what? They were GONE.
It turns out that the flowers are called moon flowers not because they look like the moon, but because they bloom at night–in the moonlight. Duh.
By the time day gets rolling along, the flowers curl back up and hide from the sun again until nightfall.
Moon flowers curling up to nap during the daylight hours
Intrigued, I did a wee bit of research. It turns out that the moon flower is a tender, perennial vine in warmer climates. I’m thinking that here in Zone 7 it won’t return next year without help, so if I want more moon flowers, I’ll have to save some seeds.
Several people online have also commented on the “pleasing fragrance.” I was hoping for another heady fragrance like the honeysuckle that blooms here in the spring. Now that’s a glorious smell! I didn’t recall smelling anything “pleasingly fragrant” near the moon flowers, so I rushed back out to push my nose into the flower. I must have selected the unscented variety, because mine don’t smell a bit.
So would I grow them again? Perhaps if I had a place where I could enjoy them at night I would. As it is, they’re in bed when I’m out and about in the garden. And to the uneducated eye the vines might look a bit like weeds.
So, there you have it. Moon flowers.
