Can I love an early flowering aroid standing quietly in front of me on this sunny Easter morning? Across my garden, I see a multitude of flower color. As the air warms up, the tiny primulas with cute little flowers nonchalantly toss their sweet perfume into the air. The blousy daffodils burst out of the ground with flowers aflame in yellows, and pinks, and oranges! All last week I saw Easter lilies in the stores that promised a delicious fragrance for my home. Moreover, all the Easter décor of soft pink, peach, yellow, and blue, all set to welcome the spring, which recently landed at my front door.
Yet my eye keeps coming back to a solitary aroid (Arisaema nepenthoides) that bravely comes out of the ground ahead of all its other relatives to say hello to the holiday. It wears no bright colors to make it stand out from the awakening earth. With a mottled amphibian skin-like color, it blends into the decaying leaf litter surrounding it.
Commonly called a cobra lily, it’s nothing like the flamboyant lily divas of the summer garden. And with an "eau de scummy pond water" fragrance, it certainly won’t win any perfume contests. Yet here it stands a few feet tall, defiantly naked of foliage, daring me to look away from the exuberant Easter colors of the Pieris, Ericas, Helleborus, Crocus, Daffodils, Iris, and Ribes that surround it. Or maybe it just doesn’t care, for what it wants to attract is that which we disdain, flies and other such insects for pollination. Let the other plants attract the bees and hummingbirds to them. The aroid warms itself under the early Easter morning sun, beating a different drum than the "flowerista" crowd.
Yeah, I rather identify with this rebel.