Sarracenia Rosea From Seedling To Bloom

As I’ve mentioned on social media, I have a little bit of serendippity that I treasure. This pitcher plant seedling was found in a clump of moss, one of several seedlings I found (some see weedy moss, I see freebies). She was the hardiest, the only one of the “weeds” to survive several massive gardening setbacks in the last two years. She was the most colorful, the most interestingly shaped, the one that grew the fastest and largest. She started displaying the colors of a tequila sunrise in a smooth gradient with only a hint of veins, and she was a weed. So, I named her Celia after Celia Hodes on “Weeds”. Well, two years after I found her in that clump of moss, she has bloomed. Now I know what she is. The only pitcher plant species with pink petals, S. rosea. Her pink petaled flowers deserve the name, they are sweet, and have a hint of rose to their scent. This is fortunate. Some pitcher plant flowers smell like cat pee.

I identified her with the help of this page, and she ticked off more than just having pink petals. Shorter flower stalk, larger flowers, only a hint of veins at times, and sometimes seemingly no pigment at all. The scent is right, and I sure did think she was a purple pitcher plant hybrid at first. But nope. I’ll still see what comes up in her seeds, there could be a hint of another species hiding in her genes, but I bet I just see a natural range of variance for this species.

And here I am sporting an avatar with pink petals on a pitcher plant flower. When I made it, I was just playing with recolors of a carnivorous plant “pirate flag” while thinking “bubblegum bog witch”, and now my favorite plant in my collection is just perfect for me.

Anyway, I have pictures from shortly after I got the moss, up to yesterday, in chronological order :). The images get close enough to see where pollinators are encouraged to land, with the tip of the modified style ready to grab the outside pollen before they enter the flower. Oh, there’s a print of her already up in the shop, might be more by the time you read this.

Celia, in the center of her siblings.
The same leaves, but older, when I moved her outside. These leaves didn’t get any larger, but the ones coming up were huge, fed with all the insects and sun.
It got too hot to keep her outside, even before summer began. The furthest right pitcher, on the bottom, is the same as the pitcher on the left in the previous image.
When that pretty sunset leaf opened, it looked bronze.
The inside of the hood is lighter, especially around the entrance to a trap.
Once again, in sepia!
More sepia toned gel filters on my lights. I love them.
A little over a week later. The bronze looks more like a ripe peach (no filters again).
The range of colors in her at this point.
Some of the oldest leaves are starting to show veins. They look more like autumn colored leaves, compared to the vibrant hues of the younger leaves.
The back of a younger pitcher, showing a more peach toned range. Why do I smell fruit loops?
An older leaf that never grew very large, but is full of fungus gnats that didn’t get to breed in my home :).
What I got to enjoy watching slowly fade over the winter, turning more subtle as the light grew shorter, more of a watercolor as her greens brightened, as she began settling down for a winter’s nap in October.
The last of the autumn’s leaves, rising up in that pretty sunset tone, at the start of December.
Mid January, right around the time to divide her, I got a surprise.
Poof! Just in time for Spring, at the end of January :).
Time for your glamor shots, Celia :).
The back of sepals is like her sunset, but fire. So vivid over the petals. So unexpected against the green traps.
It’s going to be fun watching this flower ripen into a seed pod, and watching her children grow. So. Much. Fun.
Now I knew what she was, and I was delighted that she managed to make her faded leaves look just as beautiful as when they were brushed with color, only in a different palette. Eternally fashionable she is, my Celia.