Raging Mars and Bloody Sticks of Fire
Connecting with the world and all the spirits in it can be as easy as breathing or a begrudgingly difficult battle. At times, you’re engaging without consciously realizing by naturally moving through life.
Recently I was working outside and experienced an organic, revelatory connection. I’m lucky to have space to grow plants, so I’ve been allowing some ornamental cuties in my back yard grow without trimming and with the intention of transplanting them into my front yard once big enough. The dream for the back is a wide array of edibles, but that’s coming at some point.
The plant I was letting go wild is called Euphorbia Tirucalli, also referred to as pencil cactus or what they were introduced to me as: fire sticks. They have “fingers” or “sticks” that outstretch from the thick stem and change color depending on environment.
My dear mom helped me put a long line of baby stems propagated from her plants along my fence about three years ago, and they became massively tall statues that were twice my height. This is where I’m disappointed I forgot to take a proper photo of them in their full glory. but here is some perspective:
A video screenshot showing the tallest one on the very right side of the frame which reaches far higher than the 6 foot white fence, a couple on the left that are smaller and ended up growing sideways, and sandwiched in the middle is a bougainvillea
A selfie I took standing next to the biggest fire stick in my back yard shortly after trimming it to propagate in the front yard, and it’s still roughly as tall I am
At heights significantly taller than anticipated, the time had clearly arrived to relocate them.
On the day of chopping and digging and moving, I was struck with the visceral knowingness that my relationship with this plant has deeply supported and been supportive of my relationship with Mars.
They’re literally called “fire sticks.” Come on! I can’t believe how painfully obvious it is now that I see it! The name of the plant invokes an image of a Martial weapon.
Fire sticks are green when young then mature into yellow, orange, and eventually bright red. They become most colorful when receiving the most sunlight and can move back down the color spectrum towards green when it’s colder or cloudier. As they grow together, their “fingers” often stretch up and out towards the Sun. These “sticks” can be compared to wooden sticks which provide fuel for real fires to burn.
Favoring a Martial environment, these plants love it hot and dry. They become more and more red in the Sun’s light, which almost gives them the appearance of having a sunburn or blushing. Similar to the edges of this plant bringing heat and redness into the inside, human skin becomes flushed or burnt with excessive sunlight.
While fire sticks are often kept as a small shrub, they quickly become enormous in Florida’s weather of constant bright sunlight with interspersed heavy rain. Seeing the bright red spread across the plants as they become taller thicker can mimic a rash or skin inflammation spreading across the body.
One of the fire sticks on the day that I transplanted them with light green tops, some yellow and orange starting to form
One of the fire sticks about two weeks after transplanting them and after they made it through a major hurricane with fiery red tops
They contain a toxic sap that is bright white and only emerges when the plant is cut. Trying to manage or control these sticks of fire gets messy. Trimming those gangly “fingers” turns into a bloodbath of white poison dripping everywhere. It can cause irritation to the skin and potential blindness if it gets in eyes.
After fire sticks are trimmed, the sap dries in the same way that blood dries and forms a crust on the skin. They don’t need much water because of how much internal hydration they hold, so trimmed edges will retain their sap for a long time. Although it will be faded in color, the plant and potentially many other things are left stained.
A close up of the white sap coming out of freshly trimmed fire sticks
This plant responds to being cut by spewing out poison. This plant bleeds.
This plant can cause serious injury. This plant can fight.
They feel the sharp blade and release their power.
Their insides, their life blood, their closest held weapon.
This plant responds to damage with fresh fervor.
This plant can weather a storm and return to battle stronger than before.
My mind wanders to the relationship between Mars and the Sun along with Mars and Venus.
Mars becomes more hot and more fiery in the Sun, just as the fire sticks become red with exposure to sunlight. Mars is more angry at day when feeling the hot rays and chills out at night after sunset. When the temperature has big shifts, the plant’s color follows.
Mars becomes softer with Venus, just as the fire sticks are so brightly beautiful after a good rain. The axes these two planets share reveal so much about how beautiful things are also capable of both causing harm and being protective.
A close up of the freshly trimmed stem stained with white sap after being replanted and with old oak moss surrounding the base
To propagate, I cut off the best tops from the plants then trimmed them down. Using a small hand clipper, I sliced off the small “finger” pieces at the bottom to help the roots grow deep. Mars was inside of each stick and unleashed their poison as each limb was cut.
Then comes the Venus remedy of being planted again in the ground once stripped and ready. Freshly watered, exposed to even more bright sunshine in a new location, and ready to grow. And we can’t forget the Sun shining brightly down as all of this hard work was done.
On a personal level, this was the first outdoor plant that I was able to feel a reciprocal relationship with and joyfully keep alive. It makes sense considering Mars is the first planet who came to me fully embodied. I love to sweat, feel hot, chop things, and light fires; Mars makes me who I am, and this plant is a part of that journey.
A progress photo of the tallest one in my front yard before I continued putting other plants around it
It’s worth mentioning that I wanted these fire sticks in front of my home in a very protective way. They are already starting out very tall and were placed to help provide a blockage of eyesight from people driving on my street.
These plants began as an ornamental and pretty Venus thing, and they have shown their true colors (pun intended) as they’ve grown and loudly revealed they are a Mars thing of protection and attitude.
Mars knows I’ve been working hard. Mars knows that I honor Them every Mars day, especially because it is my busiest day of the week in terms of hours working and physical activity. Mars knows I’ve been taking care of my fire sticks. And I thank those zesty cactus everyday for lighting a fire under my ass and igniting a deeper love for taking care of all my plants.
The Sun rising over my fire sticks, focused on the clouds and sky
The Sun rising over my fire sticks, focused on the red tops of the plant
And because they’re gorgeously Martian with a hint of Venusian, indicative of my natal Mars being strong yet debilitated, here are a few photos that haven’t been shared anywhere yet from a recent photo shoot while I was cooking in my kitchen and preparing spicy and fire cider:
Three images of a cutting board with a sharp knife along with ingredients like red onion, lemons, oranges, garlic, turmeric, jalapeño peppers, and apple cider vinegar; the third photo shows me slicing a lemon
