The Apple of My Eye
My Bromeliad is not a plant I purchased while it was in bloom and I did not expect re-bloom. It has reached toddler stage (referred to as a “pup”) and it has never bloomed so I did some research.
If it were an old plant, it would not bloom again on the same rosette of leaves. But since it is a new “pup” just a few steps of care should bring me the bloomin’ results I seek.
I recently watered the “pup” and placed the suggested sliced apple (halfed) on each side of the potted specimen. I covered it with a plastic bag as my investigation of information revealed I should do. The bag needs to be air-tight so I could either tie it at the top with a twisty or tuck it under the heavy pot very securely. I have followed the instructions to the letter.
Then it was time to wait again, exercise the laid-back persona, which is not easy for some of us – keep an eye on the apple – talk and sing to the plant persuasively. The apple turned very brown and shriveled. I‘m not sure if it was the sound of my voice or the cold, silent stare.
The Bromeliaceae are a family of monocot flowering plants. There are thousands of species native to the tropical Americas with a few species found in the American subtropics one in tropical west Africa, called the Pitcairnia feliciana.
Many bromeliads are able to store water in a structure formed by their tightly-overlapped leaf-bases.
The largest bromeliad is Puya raimondii, which reaches 3–4 m tall in vegetative growth with a flower spike 9–10 m tall, and the smallest is Spanish moss.
After ten days of eye balling my controlled green-house, I removed the plastic bag and tossed the shriveled, rather disgusting apple. I still stare at the “pup” often and have yet to see signs of color.
I haven’t stressed though, as the refrigerator is well-stocked with luscious, ready to go to work, apples and I think I carry an adequate tune. I can always consider voice lessons.
But, in merely six to fourteen weeks I should have a colorful bloom, oh boy!