A perfectly pointless poinsettia post
Last Wednesday (February 17) I spent the late morning and much of the afternoon typically and diligently searching the back alleys of Vancouver’s Fairview neighbourhood for returnable beverage containers.
The day, you may recall, was up and down precipitation-wise. Mostly the rain fell straight down but there were some breaks where it up and stopped altogether. (Ba-dum chh!)
During one of these dry spells I crossed paths for the third time in as many days with a particular potted poinsettia plant—something of a hardy perennial in my books, seeing as it had miraculously survived several days unmolested on the fork pocket of a dumpster.
As eye-catching as the poinsettia’s glaring red leaves were against the forest green backdrop of the dumpster, it was the fat beads of silvery water on those leaves that drew my attention.
Boy, I thought, poinsettias sure are waterproof.
Assuming that they were like the pistachios of old, I thought perhaps it was the treatment that made the leaves so red that also helped make them so waterproof.
Beyond idly wondering if they could be glued together to make a rain poncho, I didn’t give them a second thought until I reviewed my photos later in the evening.
A quick web search and the truth dawned on me: the poinsettia plant was artificial—of the silk variety. Silk poinsettias are very convincing-looking and, as the 246,000 results for “waterproof silk poinsettia” showed me, commonly treated to be waterproof.
It really is very good waterproofing. Click the images to enlarger them.