Bonsai Mimosa

Having read about Ryan Neil, American bonsai master extraordinaire, in a recent New Yorker article, I was prompted to write about my bonsai mimosa, now over 40. I’ve lost tract of the exact number of years because I never imagined it would attain this venerable an age. I’d gathered the seed in Houston, TX where mimosas grow like weeds. I germinated the seed and propagated a few; one even produced a single blossom. I allowed these bonsai considerable freedom, imposing what was required for survival and health with minimal trimming for aesthetics. I remember attending a local workshop to learn how to wrap support wires but otherwise, I merely responded to their needs. A few months ago, the larger of my two longest-living plants slowly died despite my resuscitative efforts.

Over the years, I documented the history of my bonsai photographically, more out of appreciation of their beauty than to keep a record. I rarely used the wire I’d learned to wrap. I believe my mimosa were always, and this one still is, as free as any house-bound bonsai can be.