Toucan Nest

Strangler Fig

85 Strangler Fig Cousins, then, the myriad orchids of the mist forest and this towering strangler fig. Both start tenuous life as stowaways tossed aside by wind or wing dropped without anyone’s noticing high above the forest floor. Air plants, epiphytes, bromeliads plastered so heavy some branches crack, tumble. But the fig’s patient. It settles in, sucks what it can from leaf rot, from breaks in bark, 86 drinks deep from fine mist. Then into air fig tentacles unfurl, aiming toward the host’s small patch of soil. Fig leaves above cover all else. Not out of modesty. Each fig takes its own special wasp to carry on, wasp that swaps pollen for protection. Nearly gone, the host lingers within the fig like the memory of a difficult parent who never knew what she was taking on when she got you, mother who resented being tied down, 87 mother whose face you can’t quite picture, mother who changed so much those last years you barely knew her, broken mother asthmatic, wheezy, who gave her all so you might live. ...