I grew up with the plant, but never gave it much thought. It was a strange, gangly thing, and it never flowered or did anything particularly noteworthy.

A few years ago, it was struggling mightily just to survive, and my mother gave it to Kate. Kate has a green thumb, and if anyone could save the odd thing, it was her. So the odd, gangly plant came home with us one evening. Kate re-potted it, loved it, and it began to grow and thrive. It started to send out long stems, and it began to look even more odd and gangly than before. It didn't have leaves, really, just expanded stems; it was obviously a cactus-like plant of some sort, but even the botanists among our friends didn't know what it was for certain.

Eventually, the odd plant was moved inside into my computer room where it began to wind its way through my window shades and over and behind my computer desk, making itself perfectly at home. Yes, it turned into "the weird plant that was trying to take over my room." Then, one night, I noticed a most remarkable, sweet smell in my room. It was so very potent and wonderful that I had to find the source.

After a very brief search, I found the most astonishingly beautiful flower on the odd and gangly plant! It was huge, almost the size of my spread hand, and it was white, with a feathery white pistil and golden stamens. And the fragrance... oh the fragrance... I realized it had to be strong and sweet to attract pollinators when it was blooming at night. Well, it didn't attract any bats or moths, but it certainly did attract me. :) And suddenly I understood why this student had been so proud to give my mother this odd plant as a gift so many years ago. What an extraordinary gift it was!

Since that first bloom, I've had the pleasure of sniffing the air in my computer room many late nights only to realize that there was another flower open somewhere. And always I've hunted them down to enjoy their transient beauty. The flowers last for one night, and only one night.

Last night, it bloomed again, and this time, I was able to share it with brambleberry. Of course, being the good librarian that she is, she promptly got on the internet and looked it up.

Our odd looking plant is an Epiphyllum oxypetalum, also known as a Nightblooming Cereus, or Queen of the Night.

Queen of the Night. Yes, that is very fitting. Odd, gangly thing by day, but ruler of the night by virtue of it's lovely flowers.

It's a fitting metaphor for much of humanity, perhaps. So many people spend their time and energy just surviving, but when given a little love and care, they are capable of producing such unexpected beauty. I am reminded of the Ugly Duckling.

http://www.washjeff.edu/greenhouse/Eoxypetalum/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/macieksz/sets/706740/