Fig Tree....Ficus Graysferryensius!

Perhaps the most durable plant I have ever seen is the fig tree. When, growing up in Gray’s Ferry, I remember a fig tree that lived at 28th & Morris Streets. It was a great tree, it had a lot of leaves and every spring it was filled with unripe figs that were starting to develop into gustatory perfection. However, in the urban environment, the tree was growing in a space of dirt about 3 square feet in which to proliferate and bear fruit.


Despite the fact that the tree was continuously subjected to humiliations of city living, such as bus fumes, fumes from the dry-cleaners across the street and the antics of children of all ages, the tree always provided great fruit.

As a plant lover, I always thought it would be great to have a fig tree growing wherever I was living. I lived at the New Jersey Shore for a number of years and planted three Italian fig trees. They grew well and delivered fruit a few years after planting. Now I live in the suburban area outside of Wilmington, Delaware…I still want to grow a fig tree and perhaps I will find one and procure a cutting or two.

Figs in addition to being great pleasures for eating with prosciutto and melons are also one of the most ancient trees propagated by mankind. Fig trees are often mentioned in Genesis. Some biblical experts even suggest that the tree in the Garden of Eden that tempted Adam was perhaps a fig tree. If indeed anyone that has ever tasted ripe figs can appreciate the temptation of not being permitted to pick and eat these fruity delicacies.

One of these days, I intend to do to my old neighborhood and see if the fig tree that endured life in the city is still there, and get a cutting. I am going to name it ficus graysferryensius in honor of Gray’s Ferry with it’s historical ties to Bartram’s Gardens, the first botanical garden in the United States.

So if you have some cuttings of your fig tree that you want to share, just shoot me an email. I will be glad to give it a home in the First State.

Hoya...Rope Plant!

Growing up in the concrete jungle of Gray's Ferry in Philadelphia, I still cannot understand why I have always been fascinated with plants of all types and sizes. Previously, I wrote about the way I used to grab a few Navy beans from my maternal grandmother every time she made bean soup and grow them on a windowsill. Maybe the desire for growing plants was something that always became so important for me because in the city, the only things that grew were weeds in between the sidewalk cracks and in the yards of abandoned houses and buildings. However in the 18th century, Gray's Ferry was the site of Bartram's Botanical Gardens and Gray's Gardens...maybe my heritage from my Gray family ancestors is still blooming.

Maybe the interest started with kindergarten at Saint Gabriel, when all of us had to grow carrot tops in metal pie plates into green, leafy examples of agricultural photosynthesis...I don't know. However, I know any chance I get I try to root something, grow something, get a clipping  from someone of a plant that has taken my fancy.

This time it is the hoya plant. I have often seen this plant growing in barber shops when I was a kid, often neglected and straggly. Now the plant seems to been revitalized and appears in alot of homes as one that is easy to grow and with a profusion of flowers.

So this weekend, I am searching high and low for someone that has cuttings of the hoya plant so I can add this genus to my botanical collection of plant cuttings, seedlings and plants that labor to survive in the suburban outskirts of Wilmington, Delaware.

I have always had an appreciation for plants that were unusual and different; much like the people I have sometimes associated myself with over the years. So if you are reading this piece on my horticultural hobby and would like to share your plant experiences or cuttings or even advise and sage wisdom, I would like to hear from you.

In the meanwhile I will be outside today, coaxing jiffy pots to rehydrate themselves in anticipation of some sees I have had around for a while. If anyone wants to trade some hoya cuttings for  Thai Dragon Pepper seeds, Fatali Pepper seeds, Quince Seeds email me at hjmn4566@gmail.com

I am looking forward to sharing the horticultural experiences of a relocated urban hobbyist...I am going out now and hopefully revive a failing Resurrection Fern and a Staghorn Fern that has lost some of its zeal for suburban yard life.

A Fern appropriate for the Easter Celebration!

Anticipation...Holy Saturday!

Anticipation...Holy Saturday!

Holy Saturday...anticipation!

Holy Saturday is the period of Holy Week when Catholics remember Jesus' entombment. It is a preparation day. Today is a day of quiet and prayerful reflection on the true gravity of the crucifixion and Jesus' redemptive sacrifice. Throughout the world our Churches are empty of the Blessed Sacrament and quiet in anticipation of Easter's triumph over darkness and evil, sin and death.

The quietness of the day permits us to ponder the implications of physical death and how each of us in life and death, affects others. The day before Easter also permits the Elect and the Catechumens a period of solitude and reflection as they prepare to participate in a most meaningful manner in the Sacraments of Initiation. After the frantic activities of Palm Sunday, Holy Thursday & Good Friday…Holy Saturday is a pregnant pause before the realization of the resurrection is realized on Easter Sunday morning.

This period should be prayerful and quiet, as well as contemplative of the chronological and historical events that we call the Passion. This day should also provide anticipatory happiness as we prepare to celebrate the New Passover. Holy Saturday permits us to deeply saturate our parched theological spirits in images of the waters of Baptism, and symbols of restored life. This evening Mother Church will initiate a new fire and the Paschal Candle will stand in our churches providing radiant light and reminding us of Jesus' Easter triumph. We will profess our faith in the Creed, along with our newly initiated brothers and sisters. We will partake in the Eucharistic sacrifice, now the unbloody reenactment of Calvary.

In our Churches, new water will be blessed and there will be a sprinkling over all of us to recount our sacramental incorporation through the living waters of baptism, the warming power of the Holy Spirit in confirmation and the nourishment provided through our Eucharist, Jesus, the Bread of Life. It is a good and appropriate thing that this Holy Saturday period is quiet and contemplative, relaxed and subtly expectant.

The Easter Vigil and all of the subsequent liturgies of Easter will explode our sensual perceptions and provide us with a liturgical extravaganza of auditory, tactile and sensory stimulation. As we participate in the theological burst of liturgical expressions of Jesus' resurrected glory, we are able to closely relate to the Apostles, to Mary and to all the believers in Jerusalem on that first Easter morning. Sorrow turns to joy, darkness is transformed into new light and our joyous expectations of new and eternal life are renewed.

Our faith will again feel the intensity of the Paschal Mystery as the entire communion of the Church proclaims, "Alleluia! Alleluia!" We should most deeply recall the prayer from the blessing of the Paschal candle. "Christ yesterday and today, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End, the Alpha and Omega. All time belongs to Him and all glory, forever and ever. Amen.

The Chill of Good Friday!

Good Friday always make me shiver. When I think of the interior of my Catholic parish on this day, the cold realization of Jesus' suffering and death surrounds me. The Altar is stripped, the sanctuary is bare and the Eucharistic Lord's absence in evident by the open tabernacle doors. The intense sacrifice made by Jesus on the Cross is felt keenly in a Church sans Jesus in the tabernacle.

The quietness of the sacred space echoes faint, "Hosannas", and loud shouts of, "Crucify Him."Here in the parish Church ,in the shouting silence of the empty space, We Catholics begin to feel Jesus suffering and death. That is because we participate in His death through our own initiation at Baptism. Our common Baptism unites all of us and permits us to share in Jesus' Eucharistic sacrifice.

Good Friday does not mark the end for Jesus, nor for us…rather it a sign of hopeful expectation. That expectation transcends the historical and harsh reality of Jesus' crucifixion and death. The expectation is felt in Jesus' complete submission to the will of the Father, and the subsequent Father's power that raises Jesus from the dead. Most Catholics don't usually think of death as an expectant resurrection. Most Catholics separate Jesus' total dependence on the will of the Father from His suffering and death. Most Catholics forget to recall it is the Father that raises Jesus from the dead. We are too lost to think of these aspects of redemption. Too surrounded by the cold darkness of the power of evil. Too overcome with the physical death of Jesus. We don't like to think of a Church without a Eucharistic presence, without light and joy.

However as Catholics we need to focus on not just Jesus' death, but His impending resurrection. The impending resurrection is the theological extension of Jesus' faith in the Father. He suffers the Cross, because He believes in the Father's love. We too need to recognize the same in Jesus. We share in the mystery of Jesus' death because we are faithful of resurrection. The harsh reality of death undergoes a transformation in perspective when there is a belief in the resurrection.

God's love and power transforms the cross from a symbol of shame and death, into a true realization and expectation of new life. Jesus knows this. He trusts in the Father. The Father exhibits faithfulness to His Son and raises Jesus from the cold and empty tomb. It is only after I think of the cold reality of Good Friday am I able to sense the Father's incredible warmth and power. That's what makes us believers in faith. We know that we will not be abandoned in the solitude of death, but will participate in the Paschal glory of the warmth of the Resurrection.

When I remember that the Good Friday story has another lesson to communicate, is it possible to understand that my parish Church will be transformed on Easter Sunday morning. The liturgical reenactment of Jesus' passion is the beginning of the story, not the end. As believers, we have hope in God's power. We anticipate God's resurrection of Jesus on Easter Sunday. When we realize this, shivering stops and I am acutely aware that there is life and warmth in the Resurrection, for Jesus, for us all.

Good Friday...we prayerfully remember the Passion of the Lord.

My favorite plant...will be out in the sunshine soon!

Celebrate Holy Thursday

Plants, spores and Navy Beans

For someone that grew up in the concrete jungle, I have always had a fascination with plants. Now please understand, most of the plants that I have are houseplants. For the most part I really dabble with plants that no one else seems to favor.
The night blooming cereus is perhaps one of my favorite plants. I discovered it while visiting the Philadelphia area potter Bill Daley. He gave me a plant and all of the night blooming plants I have around are descendants of that original plant from the Elkins Park visit circa 1982.
Anyone that know me  realizes that anyplace I go, plants are not safe. I like to take cuttings, seeds, spores or even entire plants if my host is so generous.
Last year, I had the great idea to grow hot peppers from Indonesia. Well, the plants have been growing on the right corner of my desk since August of 2009. I have lots of flowers and even one fiery red pepper, which I assume will land me in an intensive care unit, once I taste it's peppery oils.
I have spores from Staghorn Ferns, taken from the Gaylord Hotel's Atrium in November. I haven't gotten around to getting them into soil yet. But in the true style of procrastination, I will get to it.
I do have a Staghorn Fern that I named Dixie. Dixie was given to me by the head gardener at the Gaylord Resort. Dixie however is hanging on to life dearly. Living up North of the Mason-Dixon Line has not been easy for her this winter. Hopefully, the Yankee spring will bring Dixie back to her Southern Magnolia Beauty.
Speaking of magnolias. I have quite a few seeds from my Nashville, TN visit in November. When I have the time...I'll get them into pots and try to grow my own piece of Nashville, just for fun.

The most memorable seeds in my life were the ones I always took from my Grandmother Dick just prior to her making bean soup. Always, I saved a few Navy Beans and put them on moistened paper towels, rooted them, and grew them until they were ungainly things hanging out in my bedroom window. I often think of those great times with my maternal grandparents. They always let us grandchildren do what we wanted for fun. Always lots of food, candy, sodas ... dying Easter eggs, making candy apples and anything else fun in the kitchen will always be part of my horticultural, gastronomical and family memories of my grandparents.

Back to the plants...I am going to try to post photos of whatever I am up to with my spores, cuttings or plantlets this summer. Keep looking....