Strange Flowers: Wasp Lily
Wasp Lily (Nuphar chironex)
Neither the dreary blossoms that rise above the surface of the Perditha bog, nor their reflections — discoloured by industrial pollutants and fractured by ripples in the water’s surface — betray any hint of the Wasp Lily’s true nature.
The great majority of the plant’s biomass lies below the surface of the water, in a complex network of roots and tendrils that extends for miles in every direction. Like the tentacles of the jellyfish, the Wasp Lily’s roots deliver a potent venom to any creature unfortunate enough to brush against them. Victims succumb quickly to paralysis and sink into the tainted depths of the bog; their decomposing flesh is a primary source of nutrients for this strange flower.
Should the aspiring botanist stumble across a Wasp Lily in the wild, he is advised to exercise extreme caution; his survival may be ensured only be retracting precisely those steps that first led him to that terrible place. Nor will Perditha’s inky waters reveal any trace of the web of deadly tendrils that dwell in their depths. Turning his eyes downwards, the botanist sees only his own reflection, gazing back, his face disfigured by fear.
This story, along with many others, is a part of my surrealist botanical field guide, Strange Flowers. You can purchase your copy of the magazine at the button below.