The tiny buds in the centers of these “flowers” are, in fact, the entire flowers. They aren’t open for pollinators yet, and the showy pink petals are merely sepals— designed to protect flowers until they emerge and mature.
“Hydragnea” means “water vessel” from the Greek “hydor” (water) and “angos” (vessel). Braga is the perfect place for such a water-loving plant, as rain is abundant here.
I fell in love with the soft pink ombre shading of this one. The more acidic the soil, the bluer the sepals; the more alkaline the soil, the deeper the pink. I was charmed by the colors in this one. A tiny white knob at the center, ombre shading to hot pink, then softer pink, as you move away from the center. The violet shading of the older blooms. The beautiful patterns within each pseudo-petal. The way each flower jockeyed for space among the plethora of blooms, one especially dramatic one popping out above the rest.
Their beauty is almost surreal.
The tiny buds in the centers of these “flowers” are, in fact, the entire flowers. They aren’t open for pollinators yet, and the showy pink petals are merely sepals— designed to protect flowers until they emerge and mature.
“Hydragnea” means “water vessel” from the Greek “hydor” (water) and “angos” (vessel). Braga is the perfect place for such a water-loving plant, as rain is abundant here.
I fell in love with the soft pink ombre shading of this one. The more acidic the soil, the bluer the sepals; the more alkaline the soil, the deeper the pink. I was charmed by the colors in this one. A tiny white knob at the center, ombre shading to hot pink, then softer pink, as you move away from the center. The violet shading of the older blooms. The beautiful patterns within each pseudo-petal. The way each flower jockeyed for space among the plethora of blooms, one especially dramatic one popping out above the rest.
Their beauty is almost surreal.
