Kapok

I am one of those chicks who talks to plants. I cajole, compliment and cheer them along when I want them to grow. I say I’m sorry and ask for forgiveness when I uproot them. I express my sorrow and offer appreciation for a job well done if their time in our garden comes to an end (weeds being the exception).

Towards a few of our plants, I feel downright parental. Big Papa and I have been nursing a Kapok tree indoors since its infancy. When its leaf tips turned brown recently, I worried about whether I was adequately meeting its needs. Was I giving it too much water or not enough? Was the humidity too low or could it be pot-bound? Last summer, we decided to put the Kapok outside and give its wispy trunk a chance to blow in the breezes and toughen up a bit. Those first few nights I was decidedly concerned. Was it old enough to withstand the spring rain and more extreme fluctuations in temperature?

Big Papa transported our little sprout to Seattle when he moved here from Santa Barbara. It’s possible that ours is the only Kapok in Seattle (they are native to South America where they can reach heights of 200 feet), so I feel a certain obligation to make sure the little guy thrives. Of course, one day, he might reach the top of our ceiling and then it will be time to take our chances with planting him permanently outdoors or, alternatively, find a suitable home for him. When that day comes, even though I’ll feel good about the role I played in rearing him to maturity, I know I’ll shed a tear or two when I have to say good bye.

This past weekend, Big Papa and I “birthed” a few dozen babies. Spring has arrived in Seattle with unbridled enthusiasm, and with the raised planter beds we built for the back yard of the Urban Cabin, we now have garden ‘real estate.’ We were able to provide new homes to a sizable number of herbs, vegetables, flowers and shrubs.

As I carefully tucked each plant into its place, I anchored it with a firm press. Stakes and trellises were sunk into the rich earth to bolster the plants when they need it down the road. I planted flowers for color in the middle of one of the beds and added an obelisk to the center of another.

It was great fun to decorate the kids’ “rooms” and see them happily nestled into a few of the nine cubic yards of soil we had delivered to our driveway a week ago. I keep peering out the window to make sure they’re settling in alright. For the first day or two, they always seem to be a bit shocked and tired from their tumultuous move. I’m sure they’ll rally soon enough, and when they do, I can’t wait to watch those babies grow.

Mothering my plants is a source of immense pleasure for me. Working the earth and nurturing our garden is one of the most soul satisfying things I do. Even when my back aches from lifting shovel after shovel of soil or my skin bleeds from cuts I received when I tackled the rose bush, I finish the day with pride.

My love of caring for plants is one of the things that helped me decide I might enjoy being a mom. True, they don’t scream for hours on end or argue with me that they’d rather be in the southwest corner of the yard. I don’t have to rise at 3:00 a.m. to change their diapers.

But for all my faults (and I have plenty), I’ll go to the ends of the earth to protect those I care for. I make sure there’s water by the side of the bed and something good to fill a hungry tummy. I try to be creative and find unexpected ways to shine a little sunshine down. I dole out compliments, offer insights and praise good qualities. And even when my arms are tired, I always have at least one good hug left in me.

A Kapok tree grows in Seattle! Kapok trees grow in tropical climates like Mexico, Central America and the Caribbean, Northern South America, India and, apparently, Santa Barbara, which is where Big Papa got his little sprout from a friend about five or six years ago. Full-grown Kapoks can reach an impressive 200-230 feet in height and 10 feet in diameter. The fiber in their seed pods was once used in life vests as it’s waterproof and buoyant.

When I met Big Papa, the Kaypok sat potted in his kitchen window box, and was about six inches tall with a couple leaves. I quickly grew very fond of this little sprout, a stranger in a foreign land. I wanted the Kapok to feel welcomed and loved and come to know the Urban Cabin as home. I made sure the Kapok got water and fertilizer and I turned it every week to give each side equal bits of sunshine. Big Papa and I even got the Kapok its own Tiger.

Every time the little Kapok put out a new leaf, we made a big fuss, like two hens nurturing their brood. The little Kapok grew and grew. Soon it needed a new pot. By now the Kapok had several levels of leaves. Each time it would bust out a new set of leaves, the lower set would drop and the little Kapok would take the entire trunk up a notch.

Two summers ago we thought we should introduce the Kapok to the world outside. I carefully set it on the back deck in the sun. Within 24 hours, the leaves were burned and it soon dropped most of them. In a panic, I brought the Kapok back indoors and worried for a few weeks that I’d killed it. But I hadn’t. That little plant just kept on growing.

This summer we set the Kapok outside again, but this time, in dappled sunlight underneath a couple friendly old yellow plum trees. The Kapok has been out there for a solid month, through rain and wind and more sunny days than Seattle typically sees this time of the year. I go out and check on it daily, give it water if it’s dry and make sure the Tiger has a good view. And, of course, every time we see more leaves, we make a fuss.

Today I took out a measuring tape and I’ll be darned if that little Kapok isn’t a few inches over three feet. It’s still got 197 feet to go, but I’m darn proud of our little tree. I’m also fairly certain we’ve got the only Kapok in Seattle.

At three feet plus the pot, the Kapok now exceeds the height of its former abode, the window box. What do we do? Our sprout has become a toddler. I’m not sure it’s ready for life outside year-round, but it’s definitely outgrown its old digs. Big Papa and I discuss the future of our Kapok. Should we try to donate it to the Volunteer Park Conservatory, home to many exotic and tropical plants? Or possibly plant it in our backyard. We smile when we imagine a 200 foot Kapok dwarfing even the 80 year old, 60 foot plus cedar tree in front of our house.

On many occasions, when I think about our Kapok, I also think about our kiddo. The little sprout we have yet to bring home and nurture. I hope Big Papa and I can give him a home where he will thrive and grow. Seattle is not Armenia. The soil is different and so is the light. But I hope that as time passes, our child will feel welcomed and loved. One thing I know for sure is that he can count on us taking good care and making a big fuss.

Watch those babies grow

A tree grows in Seattle