Geranium

Since my childhood, I have repeatedly noticed a plant that grows in places where one does not feel very comfortable, for example in a mossy backyard in the old town, surrounded by the smell of stale cat urine and woodlice that panicingly flee the light from beneath lifted stones or boards... Later I learned the name of this plant: Ruprechtskraut. Of course, it can also be found in beautiful locations, in forests or in damp, shady spots under bushes. What is striking, however, is how often Ruprechtskraut is found in places with impure atmospheres.

In keeping with its choice of location, Ruprechtskraut also has an unpleasant odour. This is reflected in its other name, Stinking Stork’s-bill. Ruprechtskraut belongs to a genus (Geranium) that usually produces pleasantly scented species. Some Geranium species have a scent akin to roses.

Many cosmetic products that claim to have a rose perfume actually contain the cheaper geranium oil. Against this background, it is particularly significant that Ruprechtskraut emits a dissonant odour. This odour must be understood in the context of its site preference. When a plant seeks atmospherically impure sites, this means it requires and processes the energy present there. The unpleasant smell of the plant is a sign that it absorbs atmospheric energetic disharmonies and – transformed on a substantial level – subsequently releases them again.

Another distinctive feature of the signatory is the red colouring at the tip of the Stork’s-bill. Like all members of the Geranium family, Geranium robertianum has a long, pointed fruit. What is special about this plant is that this tip is coated in blood-red, allowing an association with a stabbing weapon or an insect sting in action. This expresses the element of suddenness, of surprise attack.

Anyone who has Geranium robertianum in their garden and tries to pull it out will find this completely easy. A light tug, barely noticeable resistance, and you hold the whole plant with its root in your hand. On closer examination, we observe how little Ruprechtskraut is anchored in the soil. The upper part of the root is in the air.

Then comes a thin, horizontal root that lies just below the soil surface. Sometimes the root is exposed between a layer of leaves and the forest floor, and only a few lateral rootlets are connected to the earth. (The plant does not have a taproot as indicated in some botanical works.) However, such a weak root could not possibly support the rather expansive plant. The root therefore only serves the function of supplying water and mineral salts and does not provide fixation for the plant. The fixation happens in an absolutely unique manner. The plant is supported on the ground by modified leaf stalks.

The stalks of the lower leaves undergo a significant change after the leaf blade dies. They begin to grow again, bend downward and then slightly upwards at the tip. Thus, the former leaf stalks of the lower leaves (in older plants also those of previous years) form arch-shaped supports on which the Stork’s-bill stands. If the plant is gently pulled upward, the supports lift off the ground.

The plant is therefore not firmly connected to the earth but rests on it and can ‘lift off’ anytime. Another striking feature is the strong knotty thickenings at the points where the leaves emerge. Since this corresponds also with inner perception, I here exceptionally draw a comparison between these nodules and lymph glands. As mentioned in the general part, I am usually very cautious with such direct comparisons between plant and organ forms.