On Saturday evening, ten good friends gathered at a friend’s farm for dinner. The weather was spectacular—cool and dry with just a hint of autumn in the air—and the soft light spilling across the fields was nothing short of divine. The hosts were their usual generous selves, but of course we all brought something to share: a bottle (or two) of wine, some crazy-good fig appetizers, crab dip, a baguette, mixed nuts. Andy brought a nosegay of flowers—pastel shades of blush and purple with just enough white for contrast—that she bought earlier in the day at the farmers market. We oohed and aahed, but no one knew what kind of flowers they were. I thought they looked like docile thistles, if there is such a thing. But no one knew exactly what they were so we did what one does these days and asked Siri. We sent her a picture, and she responded right away: “Those are globe amaranths, dummy.” Asked and answered.
Well, not quite. There was a bit more research to do. Turns out that Globe Amaranths (Gomphrena globosa) is a heat-loving annual flower native to Central America, known for its showy clover-like blossoms that bloom continuously through summer until the first frost. (Wait; there is frost in Central America? But I digress…) The plant is valued by gardeners because it’s easy to grow, drought-tolerant, and attractive to pollinators. They thrive in full sun, adapt to most types of soil, are disease and pest resistant, and don’t require much fertilization. Best of all, if you cut the blooms for display on your table, you’ll encourage more growth. What’s not to like?
That got me to thinking: I’d like to be a globe amaranth: I’m easy to grow (especially in girth), drought-tolerant (have I told you about “Wineless Wednesdays”?), and attractive to pollinators, or at least to one certain little pollinator who shall remain nameless. I thrive in full sun, I think I’m pretty adaptive. So far I’ve been disease-resistant (knock on wood!), and require only minimal fertilization, preferably in the form of rosé wine. OK, so maybe you can’t cut me and put me on your dining room table, but otherwise, you can encourage a lot of new growth in me with minimal effort. Just give me a good book and I’m off to the races.
I wish life were that simple, but, of course, it isn’t. Human beings are a lot more complicated than a posy of globe amaranths. Many of us require a lot more pruning, better soil, perfect growing conditions, and a lot more fertilization. Now I realize that anthropomorphism is the attribution of human form, identity, character, or attributes to non-human entities. Even though it’s considered to be an innate tendency of human psychology, I think it’s relatively harmless, even if it’s a little self-centered. Think about it: maybe a globe amaranth blossom is perfectly content to be a flower; after all, why would it want to put up with all our human nonsense when it can thrive all on its own?
And remember this: globe amaranths come from Central America. Walls don’t seem to impede their spread or diminish their beauty. Thank goodness!
I’ll be right back.
Jamie Kirkpatrick is a writer and photographer who lives on both sides of the Chesapeake Bay. His editorials and reviews have appeared in the Washington Post, the Baltimore Sun, the Philadelphia Inquirer, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, the Washington College Alumni Magazine, and American Cowboy Magazine. His most recent novel, “The Tales of Bismuth; Dispatches from Palestine, 1945-1948” explores the origins of the Arab-Israeli conflict. It is available on Amazon and in local bookstores. His newest novel, “The People Game,” hits the market in February, 2026. His website is musingjamie.net.
