" For many are called, but few are chosen."
Matthew 22: 14 (King James Bible)
Why am I thinking of this passage from the Bible? For one thing, I've heard my mother quote this passage many, many times as a young girl growing up. Trouble is, I can't remember the context. I might take a risk and ask her now. Her mind for topics unrelated to the present moment can be spot on; she might be able to enlighten me.
This biblical quote comes to mind every time I stop to inspect our night blooming cereus plant. Each summer we can expect to witness the magnificence of at least two blooms from this scraggly mess of a plant that sits in our bedroom near the south facing glass doors to the deck. This summer I've watched as several small buds have appeared; the promise of a blooming flower weeks away. And then, mysteriously, the young buds dry up and fall off the plant. Of all that attempted the journey to maturity, only one has held the course. Tonight may be the night she blooms. I see the telltale puffiness of the still tightly enfolded bud, the sign of readiness for the one night of glory. Night blooming cereus flowers bloom in the fading light of dusk and last but for six to eight hours before they die, limp and dangling on the stalk that once supported their growth to magnificence.
This photo from two weeks ago shows the maturing flower bud growing off the side of the green leaf.
Earlier this week, it was clear this bloom would achieve its moment of majesty.
These dessicated baby buds never made it. There were likely many others that I didn't find, involuted and returned to the earth before their moment in the moonlight.