Sundew : 無料・フリー素材/写真
Sundew / Giles Watson's poetry and prose
| ライセンス | クリエイティブ・コモンズ 表示-継承 2.1 |
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| 説明 | THE SECRET LIVES OF PARASITIC AND INSECTIVOROUS PLANTSGiles Watson, 2005.Cow WheatBeneath the beeches, wood ants spread seeds,Grappling the grains in champing mandibles,Hoarding their own bread, black and bitter,Between the grass stems. Crickets stridulate.Women would have them for their cows,Browsing the purse-lipped flowers, makingMilk more yellow, by the coarse sympathyOf ingestion, and the belch of churning cud,But banish them from wheat fields. The baneOf blackened flour bakes as pauper’s bread.The roots entwined will not untangle.Black seed will not winnow, in any wind.Source material: Cow wheats (Melampyrum spp.) are semi-parasitic plants which derive water and minerals from the roots of grasses. The seeds are spread by ants, and bees are the only insects strong enough to open their flowers and pollinate them. The seed is reminiscent of wheat grain, but black in colour, and it is said to make bread black and bitter. As a result, it has been known as “poverty weed”, because it reduces the market value of cereals. However Linnaeus asserted that the best and yellowest butter is made when cows browse on cow wheat flowers. See Richard Mabey, Flora Britannica, London, 1996, p. 334, Macgregor Skene, A Flower Book for the Pocket, Oxford, 1935, p. 281, and C.A. Johns, Flowers of the Field, London, 1949, pp. 201-202.DodderWith dodder and with dead men’s hairMy bare stick nest is thatched,My young ones hatched in spoolsOf devil’s silk, spun with dew-fallsOver clover and ling, pluckedBy my black bill, wax flowersDangling. Thanks shall I give,By my craw, to the horned oneWho wove you, and the white wormOf your root, which drinks green bloodAnd never touches soil.Source material: Dodder is an entirely parasitic plant with no chlorophyll. It attaches itself to a range of host plants, its roots tapping into the sap. The Welsh name for dodder is Sidan y Brain, or “the crow’s silk”, and legend has it that the plant is spun at night by the Devil.BladderwortsThe moss draws water, a thirsty spongePlastered over granite, inches thick,The air above it slick with moisture.Flowers, gorged as arteries, hangLike heads of sanguine puppetsFrom stems pulsing with redness,And like the scales of some reptile,Green but blushing, bladdersCobble the moss, gleamingWith a film of wetness. Beneath,Crustaceans swim among the moss stems,Microscopic. Bladder mouthsGape like jaws, toothed with bristles:One brush with a branched antenna,And the valve-trap springs.Sucked inside, the sealed door slams.Prison walls exudeThe juice of death.Source material. Bladderworts (Utricularia spp.) are aquatic and semi-aquatic insectivorous plants. This poem describes an Australian species, Utricularia menziesii.Venus Fly-TrapOut of one multifaceted eyeShe perceives, in fading lightThe world beyond her cage,Where once she flew, mated,Ate dung, dropped living maggots.She can poke a single,Scrabbling leg between the bars,Wave it ineffectually in air,But green and fleshy lipsKissed the buzz from her.Trigger hairs dig into her, andShe cannot squirm, cradled aliveIn her own little charnel house.Her other eye gazes into the hazeOf its green and hungry metabolism.Stasis. Dissolution.She perceives, in fading lightThe world beyond her cage.Source material. Based on personal childhood observations of home grown Venus Fly Traps (Dionaea spp.).Pitcher PlantThe enticement is a gift of honey; the whole thingAn elaborate seduction; her red pigmentLike blotched flesh, fresh from exertion.Lick the sweet nectar from the lip; suck it down.A foretaste of pleasures within, you assume,And one slip, one flail of hinged chitinDrops you into it. Flies’ eyes bob like buoys,Detached wings are gleaming raftsOn a sea of your own soup, wellingIn waxen walls. You might as wellDrown now. The nuptials are ended.Source material. Based on personal childhood observations of home grown Pitcher Plants.SundewDon’t struggle, dearIt only makes it worse,Like being entangledIn sticky toffee:Striving only servesTo stick you faster.Now, if ever, is the timeTo learn detachment,Suspended, as you areBetween earth and heaven.You have no needOf earthly things:None of themCan aid you.There is solaceIn this death:Towering above youA white flower. Source material. Based on observation of Sundews in Albany, Western Australia, where the species are spectacularly diverse. All sundews kill their prey in the same way, and many have beautiful flowers.Christmas TreeAfter the burning, grass tussocks are charcoal clumpsThat crunch underfoot; blackboy trunks crumbleInto gummy, blackened scales, and banksia conesPuke out seeds. Hakeas are knotted scribbles,Their pods split and blistered, waiting for rain.The land is torpid, weak after shedding its skin.But the season is like a new instar, or an imagoEmerging, and the grey-leaved Christmas treeSprouts flowers in saffron fingers, strivingFor sun. Beneath the blackened earth, hungryRunners seek foreign roots. Unsuspecting hostsSupply her food, assist her strange rejuvenation.Source material. The Western Australian Christmas Tree (Nuytsia floribunda) is an arborescent mistletoe, the roots of which parasitize a wide range of hosts, both annual and perennial. It produces spectacular clumps of yellow flowers in terminal fascicles up to 25 cm long, and blooms more prolifically in the season after a fire.BroomrapeBlanched as blood-drained flesh,Broomrapes grow in deepest shadeDespising the sun. Their leavesAre scales, their racemes riseFrom soil, like vampires’ fingers,The flowers shadowed, bruisedLike vampires’ eyes.Hidden from sight, rootsClamp round roots, suckFrom the flux of life.No need to grow green:Flourish, rather, on others’ juices.Source material. Broomrapes (Orobranche Spp.) are distributed worldwide in temperate regions. They do not produce chlorophyll, but are wholly parasitic, the roots clamping onto those of other plants. Their colloquial name arises from the fact that in Britain, the host plant of the Broomrape is normally Broom or Gorse. |
| 撮影日 | 2008-12-09 11:49:39 |
| 撮影者 | Giles Watson's poetry and prose , Oxfordshire, England |
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