2024-05-06
Running out of ideas for the word-vomits, I am opting today to write about the leaf of a Tropaeolum majus, or nasturtium, of the Peach Melba variety I do believe, which I have on my windowsill in my room.
The stem approaching the leaf is rather thin. Where the stem conjoins with the leaf, there is a small circular area which is whitish-yellow, translucent as the rest of the leaf. This area appears to have less chlorophyll, likely both due to a different type of cell being present (one which is more suited to the carrying about of nutrients to the leaf) and that it does not serve much purpose when the light may simply pass through and be photosynthesised by the stem instead.
In a star-like pattern from the centre of the leaf, veins may be seen, which carry out until the very edge of the leaf. There appears to be more of what I could call the first-order veins on the top-side than on the bottom. Presumably gravity has some effect here. For instance, on the leaf I observe, there are four of these on the top side, with only three on the lower side, as well as the two that go left and go right. Some four-tenths of the way up from each first order vein there appears another vein going on way or the other, and very soon after (not immediately, however, in a way that would form a perfect trident) one going the other direction. Other veins however do not have this, and instead wait until near the end of the leaf, at which point they biforcate to form a triangle with the edge of the leaf.
The second order or subveins often join with another subvein emanating from a different main vein, forming a straight line across between the left vein and the right vein, and then diverging from either side of this line. In essence, they form a shape similar to an H, however with each of the four segments around the centre - diverging.
In fact, all of the main veins have subveins that arise on different sides at different times except two, which are the centre two on the top side of the leaf, facing upwards. This as mentioned I assume is due to gravity somehow.
The first order veins are white with a dark green surrounding them. The second order veins are of the same form, however smaller. There are a few third order veins in which this form is perceptible, however mostly by this point the veins are so small as to simply appear as a dark green when held up and observed before the sky.
The leaf is far from perfectly round, and in fact undulates when tracing the perimeter of it. It resembles a frilly dress in this way. I presume this to help protect against wind in some way. It appears thoroughly imperfect, and is in this way somewhat frustrating. It is not imperfect in a beautiful way, almost imperfect in an imperfect way.
When squeezing very forcefully a portion of the leaf between the thumb and forefinger, the green evacuates from the portion squeezed and it takes on a colour which is suppose is closest to yellow, or is maybe even just a lighter, almost lime, green. The colour does - even in a leaf which has been plucked off from the main plant - gradually recover, though it takes a very long while.
It is hard to describe the smell if one has never had reference to a nasturtium leaf. It is intoxicating in a way, yet sickly, not unalike the smell of sticks of glue which one might have sniffed as a child. The smell slightly lingers in the nose in a similar way to mint, with a slight sting even of the nostrils, however the effect is not anywhere near so severe as with mint. Even in only eating a very small amount, that amount which can be shyly taken between the teeth, there is a sharp pang in the tip of the tongue, though almost none of the actual flavour of the nasturtium itself can be tasted. It takes a second or two for this pang to arise. It is not the pang of mint as said, nor of pepper, though the taste is often called peppery. It is simply quite sharp. It is almost impressive in fact how strong a flavour such a diminutive portion of leaf can provide.
The flavour is hard to grasp in that way. Leaving a small section of leaf on the tongue, it gives a continuous stinging sensation for a short while. The stem in addition, whilst having a more disgusting flavour, has an even stronger effect in terms of the sting it provides the tongue.
I've now eaten the full leaf, and it's provided almost less than the small bites did in terms of strength. The overall flavour of the leaf is also not impressive, though I have tasted worse leaves than the one I have just eaten. The plant is truly wonderous, and I haven't even described the flowers, which in this variety of Peach Melba are extremely impressive. All varieties are, though, with nasturtiums...
That said, I've run out of words and of capacity, at only some eight hundred words. It feels meagre, but I have little else that I ma inspired to say at the moment. I think nonetheless, I will count this towards the word-vomit, even if it was altogether forced... The goal is simply to write more. I am glad that, even in early May, I already have two flowers (and a third on its way) on my nasturtium plant in my room.
Ok, that is all then. I've been struggling a little with ideas of what to write, and what to do for the podcast I am beginning to record (though certainly not releasing! it's just for myself) and am really struggling to make up the word counts. I am not sure whether it is that I am simply not adjusted and used to writing at length, or am inadequate at description, or grow bored too quickly, or... ok well let's end it here and go do something else.
Have a good one.