Cymbidium: Festival of flowers


My own Cymbidium.

Last year I was so excited because my orchid gave its first spikes with flowers.

This year it gave me two spikes again.

5 flowers on each one.

Cymbidium /sɪmˈbɪdiəm/,[1] or boat orchids, is a genus of 52 evergreen species in the orchid family Orchidaceae. One of its first descriptions come from Olof Swartz in 1799. The name is derived from the Greek word kumbos, meaning ‘hole, cavity’. It refers to the form of the base of the lip. The genus is abbreviated Cym in horticultural trade.

My neighbor also has some Cymbidiums

here are two of hers.



It’s write easy


It’s Write Easy

July 27, 2012

Words: rain, difficulty, special day, building, theatre

Special Day

There are  hand full’s of special days in my life.

One special day I remember is when my son was born.

We did not expect to have children because we got married at a mature age. One thing we discussed ,before we got married ,was the possibility of never having children. It was not in our hands. I am so glad it just happened.

My son was born on a Sunday evening   9.30pm. This happened on August 9, 1981. I was so proud to be a mother. My husband called my parents to tell them it was a boy. My mother, who picked up the phone, could not believe that it was a boy. She asked my husband if it was a twin because it was supposed to be a girl!.

Let me quickly explain: my side of the family are all female. My father was the last male in the family. That is why my mother could not believe it is a boy .

The birth of my son is a very special day and I will always remember it.

Then there is also something special connected to the August  9. After the democratic elections in South Africa  some special days were instated. I have to thank Nelson Mandela for taking the 9th of August as a special day for women. Every year on my sons’ birthday everybody could stay home because it was Women’s Day. My son enjoyed the idea of not going to school on his birthday.

Words for quick writing: flowers, embarrassment, summer, place, happiness


I love to take photos of flowers. The last two months I have been taking photos of my Cymbidium(orchid) I took photos from where the first spike started to come out. Then I kept an eye on it and took photos once a week on a Thursday. Every week I could see how it was growing. Then one evening the first flower opened and I took a photo again. Now all eight flowers are fully open.

I am so glad they all opened because orchids easily throw off their flowers or buds.

There is also a smaller second spike with only three flowers. They are also fully open now. I took a photo again this morning because the sun was shining and the flowers were in the sun inside my room. I usually like to take photos without a flash that is why it was great to have the sunlight shining on them.

 This is no 2 of my  52 Pick up – flowers



Tell a story – last chapter : Beauty of Cymbidium

This is the last Chapter of my story! The story started with  telling a story. I started with the buds coming out, then they grew bigger and the flowers started to swell, the first flower opened

Now there is only one bud that is not open yet. I posted on July, 2 the opening of the flowers. Today 8 days later it looks like this!







The Most Beautiful Flower
by Cheryl L. Costello-Forshey

The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read
Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree.
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,
For the world was intent on dragging me down.
And if that weren’t enough to ruin my day,
A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play.
He stood right before me with his head tilted down
And said with great excitement, “Look what I found!”

In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,
With its petals all worn — not enough rain, or too little light.
Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,
I faked a small smile and then shifted away.

But instead of retreating he sat next to my side
And placed the flower to his nose and declared with overacted surprise,
“It sure smells pretty and it’s beautiful, too.
That’s why I picked it; here, it’s for you.”

The weed before me was dying or dead.
Not vibrant of colors, orange, yellow or red.
But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave.
So I reached for the flower, and replied, “Just what I need.”

But instead of him placing the flower in my hand,
He held it midair without reason or plan.
It was then that I noticed for the very first time
That weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind.

I heard my voice quiver, tears shone like the sun
As I thanked him for picking the very best one.
“You’re welcome,” he smiled, and then ran off to play,
Unaware of the impact he’d had on my day.

I sat there and wondered how he managed to see
A self-pitying woman beneath an old willow tree.
How did he know of my self-indulged plight?
Perhaps from his heart, he’d been blessed with true sight.

Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see
The problem was not with the world; the problem was me.
And for all of those times I myself had been blind,
I vowed to see the beauty in life, and appreciate every second that’s mine.

And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose
And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose
And smiled as I watched that young boy,
Another weed in his hand,
About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.

New flowers awaiting

I am kind of excited! My Cymbidium has two flower stalks.  My friend gave me the pot with Cymbidiums because she doesn’t like orchids. Last year I replanted it and it made only one extra plant or bulb, that bulb is now forming a flower stalk also.

Here is the new bulb and its stalk(I really hope it is also a Flower stalk and not only a new growth.)

Here is the other one. This is really going to be flowers.

It has already grown since I have taken the photo.

I can already see the flowers coming out!

Fingers crossed for this one!