The Adenium on my Terrace
Last Sunday morning, I did something I thought I could never do.
I took a pair of clippers to the Adenium tree on our terrace and trimmed it down to something unrecognisable. The adenium, also known as the Dessert Rose, is a small succulent tree with magnificent blooms and rich leaves. It has a distinct bulbous base and is the most unusual plant in my home.
With the help of Ramu our gardener, who held the tall sturdy branches, I went from one branch to the other, sometimes using two hands to get through the thickness of the branches. We had tied them, with strips of cloth in two places, and attached them to the iron overhang on the terrace to hold up the branches which could not support themselves any more. I snipped these too.
Soon, there was a pile of the branches on the floor, the ends full of rich green leaves. No blooms though, as the tree was already preparing for the cold weather hibernation. I stepped back and looked at the plant. It didn’t look as bad as I expected. A bit like my haircut over COVID-19 days.
I undertook this exercise on the advice of the gardener at the nursery I frequent. Two weeks ago, as I was walking through the nursery, picking out herbs and flowers, I passed a woman who had an adenium in the crook of her arm. It was a fine looking one with a bright red bud. We smiled at each other as our paths crossed. As I was getting ready to finish my shopping, I noticed she had left the adenium by the path, where we had crossed each other.
“She didn’t take it,” I said to the attendant. “No, he said, “why don’t you take it?” I have a one I said, but I can take if for my son. I then proceeded to tell him about the close to 15 foot adenium on my terrace and how we had to prop it up. Why don’t you trim it, he asked me? You will get a lot more blossoms. Oh, I said. It had never occurred to me.
Back home, I discussed it with Ramu, and we decided to trim it last Sunday. I took a photograph the next day. Every day, when I am on the terrace in the mornings with my coffee and breakfast, I look at it and like it more and more.
The adenium plant came to us in the mid-90s, through a plant man we stumbled upon. Or rather, he stumbled upon us. Farmod, tall and stately, came riding by his bicycle with an attached wooden cart, full of plants. He walked around the garden and made some noises about what he saw and then proceeded to tell me what I needed. Before I knew it I had been talked into an armful of plants. The adenium was one of them. He told me how to take care of it, when to transplant it and pointed out a spot in the sunny sun and said, very authoritatively: put it here.
I took a shine to Farmod, and he to me and my family. He came back several times as we moved from house to house and finally to our present home. He helped us move the plants, large and small. He insisted that he would supervise the moving and re-planting and positioning of our several large ficus and bougainvillea. He chose the spot for the adenium plant.
Over the years, the adenium has given me much pleasure. Its blooms are amazing. Rich in colour and texture I have them on my desk in a posy, at the spirit house as an offering and have painted them. I love photographing them.
At every stage of its growth I have admired and photographed the plant. Here is a picture of it with its seed.
As winter approaches, the tree will now go into hibernation. It will flower towards spring. Till then, I am happy to watch it in its new trimmed down version.
