This Raleigh plant is putting on a spectacular show before its inevitable death
AI-generated summary reviewed by our newsroom.
- An agave in Raleigh shot up about 25 feet in a single month during its death bloom.
- The plant spent 15 years in Agata Slaczka’s yard before producing its flowering tower.
- Agaves expend all energy to produce one tall seed stalk and then die.
On a quiet Raleigh street, one humble agave plant has dazzled its neighbors with the final, glorious performance of its life — shooting up 25 feet in a single month.
For 15 years, it sat quietly in Agata Slaczka’s yard, looking prickly and Southwestern, content with its average height.
Then in April, it began the “death bloom” as all agaves must, rocketing up taller than Slaczka’s two-story house, ending its days with a green exclamation point.
“My neighbors stop and ask what we’re doing,” said Slaczka, who lives in northeast Raleigh. “One of them said if I want to throw it away, he’s going to come make tequila.”
‘I’ve never witnessed such a sight’
Agave plants, for those unfamiliar with succulents, bloom only once in a multi-decade lifetime. They make sure everybody notices by sending up a single asparagus-shaped tower topped with seed pods.
This last gesture takes all of its energy, and once this last burst is done, the agave takes a bow and dies.
“For the past three decades we’ve lived in Wake County, I’ve never witnessed such a sight,” wrote Slaczka’s son Damian, inviting The N&O to see. “Everyone’s sharing pictures and checking in on it (driving by, asking questions), I figured it may be news-worthy to spread some positivity and something unique.”
The Slaczka family came by their specimen in Myrtle Beach, when they admired a healthy plant in a resident’s yard and were granted one of the “babies” growing nearby.
Nobody told them what to expect in the way of funeral arrangements.
Death blooms can surprise people even in more arid climates, as Damon Miller learned last year when his California agave startled neighbors with its death dance.
“Honestly, this thing is out of control,” he told The Fresno Bee.
Come and get it
But as with all things, acceptance seeps slowly in.
“It’s gonna die,” said Slaczka. “It’s part of life. We’re gonna die, too.”
Meanwhile, if anybody wants the ingredients for a kiddie pool full of Patron, swing by in a month or two.