Tethered butterflies

Managed to finally get through a job for a client that has been dragging for far too long. In the words of Austin Powers: "and I'm spent".

I seem to keep talking about stuff I've inherited from my Mum, but this plant (whose name I should know but don't - anyone?) was miserable and forlorn under her roof. She is usually pretty green-fingered, but for some reason this little pot plant was sad and sickly, so I offered to take it on to see if I could do any better.

Instinct is a funny thing, but something told me she was trying too hard. Sure enough, by not watering it too often and just leaving it be, with plenty of light, it has increased from a measly three stems to twenty, and is flowering like mad.

It is beautifully delicate, and carefully furls its tiny mauve flowers away each night. The purple tricorn leaves wobble at the end of spindly pale stems that don't look strong enough to support the weight, yet here it is, hale and hearty. I feel like I've rescued the runt of the litter and seen it grow into a healthy, happy citizen. That'll do, pig.

I was originally trying to take a picture focusing on a flower, but as I turned the pot in the light these little butterflies emerged, and seemed to suggest the metamorphosis much more acutely.

So here it is, today's little triumph :)