inexperience. However, I did find that Mirabilis jalapa is a self-seeding, perennial shrub native to tropical Latin America that produces thin, funnel-shaped flowers. They grow in many colors. The blooms typically open in the late afternoon, allowing their aromatic fragrance to fill the air until morning when the flowers close. This striking process begins the following evening with new flowers. Sometimes, if cloudy, they make a surprise appearance at an earlier time. I read that this plant is believed to have been cultivated since the Aztec Empire days. They may have used Mirabilis jalapa medicinally and ornamentally. I thought back to my own wedding not too long ago. I had stood near Lake Michigan, committing to sharing life with my now-husband until death might do us apart with roses in my hair. I suppose I’d chosen to adorn myself with the generous giving of the earth. Almost like my grandma had as a little girl. Mami Saura’s memory moved mountains inside of me because, honestly, how silly! And beautiful! She ran around, two Flor de Maravillas flying from her tiny ears. Never mind that she didn’t have shoes to wear or that her breakfast was a rolled corn tortilla with salt. In those moments, while she twirled with the earth, magic was possible. This was a new 51
thought in a new light for me; I can embrace plants in a whimsical way. I’ve long had a relationship with plants. Tomatoes in a greenhouse have the best smell, bright and earthy. And it’s easier to breathe near big trees. I also love stories. Together, these two fueled the quest for my abuela’s childhood earrings. What resulted was deep appreciation and remembrance of the harmonizing narrative stories and plants can bring. They speak of promise…long awaited blooms after dark, cold days. Mirabilis jalapa and weigela, two very different shrubs, brought generations and cultures together. They brought my grandmother and I together.
