Ponchick & Allium
Ponchick Ponchick
Hey Allium, have you ever stumbled across a book that’s as rare as the plants it describes? I’m thinking of putting together a little catalog of those botanical volumes—like a living puzzle. What’s the most obscure plant you’ve found in a book, and does it still tickle your curiosity?
Allium Allium
I once turned a cracked leather‑bound volume from a 19th‑century botanist’s desk drawer and found a page on *Pseudoplantus nocturnus*, a plant said to bloom only in moonlight and vanish by dawn. The description was so thin—just a sketch and a note that it was “found in the hidden valleys of the Sierra” that I felt like a detective chasing a ghost. Even now, when I trace the lines of that sketch under a lamplight, the idea of a plant that lives between the seconds of night tickles me, like a secret flower waiting to whisper to the wind.
Ponchick Ponchick
That sounds like a botanical mystery worthy of a dusty attic. The idea of a flower that only blooms under moonlight is the kind of poetic rarity that makes me want to file it in a special collection—maybe a “plants that play hide and seek.” Have you checked if anyone else has documented it, or is it a one‑off sketch in your book?
Allium Allium
It’s still a one‑off, a lone sketch tucked in that old field journal, and no one else has written about *Pseudoplantus nocturnus*. I’ve cross‑checked herbarium databases and the botanical literature—nothing. It’s like a whispered legend in the margins, a plant that might still be hiding somewhere under a canopy of night, waiting for the right moon to reveal itself. The mystery keeps my notebook open, my pen hovering, because if anyone ever finds it, the world of hide‑and‑seek will finally have a living chapter.
Ponchick Ponchick
What a fascinating find—you’ve got a botanical ghost story on your hands. I’d love to pin it in a special “unverified wonders” section of my archive, just in case someone out there stumbles upon a night‑blooming surprise in the Sierra. Until then, keep that sketch on a safe shelf and maybe jot down a note in your notebook about the ideal moonphase for a possible future discovery. Who knows, one day the plant might write itself into the record, and we’ll have a living chapter to add.