The Victorian era had a social civilization ambiance that unfortunately has been lost to the world. For example, presenting a single blossom of hibiscus to a female required no spoken words. It immediately conveyed the giver’s message that the recipient was found to possess a striking, yet delicate beauty.
Perhaps this type of social finesse went asunder in the era of men converting their appreciation of feminine beauty down to a wolf whistle, followed by guffaw laughter. That likely began in 1937, by a cartoon whistling wolf in “Little Red Walking Hood.” Yes, readers, “walking” truly was the correct title.
Now over two decades in the past, Angelkeep’s first young hibiscus bush had been planted on the west side of the house. It received full sun from noon to sunset. It eventually grew well above the first story rain gutter. It received periodic trimming to contain growth and encourage full bloom. It had been planted in the Victorian spirit. Gwen would then soon move in as a bride. Her beloved color — blue. Hibiscus — blue-violet.
This bush suddenly died without warning. Volunteer trees casting shadows may have been the big bad wolf that killed Angelkeep’s blue-violet hibiscus bush.
Bluffton’s farm market, a large Saturday morning affair filling a goodly size area in the parking lot between McDonalds, Scooter’s, and Family Farm & Home, included a plant vendor. Many of her offerings were native plants. A single foot-long stalk of an unknown variety of hibiscus bush secured in spring had been planted that very day in Angelkeep’s sunniest location.
The planted stalk received an Osage orange stake to protect it from being mowed. Its pot, a repurposed plastic McDonalds drink cup, turned upside-down on the stake, helped identify it as desirable. This avoided it being pulled as a weed in later weeks after the planting had been forgotten.
It began to grow among weeds.
Unpredictably, the new plant flourished beyond all expectations. It grew half again its height and sprouted several branches. Each leaved to soak up the sun it robustly needed. It stepped up its game and volleyed forth with two blooms. That joined Angelkeep’s list of miraculous, unanticipated, achievements.
Since hibiscus was also known by the name of rose of Sharon, Angelkeep decided to name the new heart-throb bloomer Rose of Angelkeep.
The true variety remained anonymous. How nice it would have been to have Charles C. Deam back working his botany in Bluffton to do an official identification.
It didn’t reflect the color of its Angelkeep predecessor. These petals grew predominantly bright pink with a deep ruby base ending in an off-white crème. The tall, center, standing, bloom’s pistil carried on the crème coloring. The first observation of the bombshell blooms occurred in a light rain’s drizzle. As a result beads of rain covered every part of each of the five petals giving it the appearance that it was dusted with hundreds of diamonds.
After all, Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend (vintage 1949), and this bloom showed every sign of being uniquely a Victorian Lady-in-Waiting. Rose of Angelkeep had been, through nature’s way, dressed to the nines. Did you know Queen Camilla quashed the British lady-in-waiting practice less than one year ago?
How tempting it had been to pluck one of the rose of Sharon blooms, or Rose of Angelkeep, and carry it inside for presentation to Angelkeep’s Queen Gwen. Gardener instinct suggested any plucking and dismemberment of the first-year growth of this emerging bush might be detrimental in its natural needs to grow and eventually survive a coming winter season. Via post-Victorian technology alteration, the presenting of the hibiscus bloom came in the form of a digital photo.
Queen Victoria would have been agog at that, more so than being handed a living hibiscus bloom.
It will be a long winter and spring of anticipation to await the awakening of Rose of Angelkeep. Perhaps next year, should it survive, Gwen can be presented with a bloom. It could also be suggested to steep it for a cup of hibiscus tea. Gwen loves tea. She’s not crazy for herbal, but hibiscus tea had been said to taste like cranberry. Rose of Angelkeep iced tea mayhap (inject wolf whistle as needed).
Mr. Daugherty is a Wells County resident who, along with his wife Gwen, enjoy their backyard and have named it “Angelkeep.”
