No, really, I mean I FORGOT

Lately I've read on a couple of local blogs that some of my favorite gardeners had planted red spider lilies and then forgotten all about them until they saw them in bloom recently.

When they wrote that they'd "forgotten" I believed they meant temporarily.  As in "oh, that's right! I planted those and then forgot about them" which is not to say they really forgot, forgot, they just weren't thinking about the Lycoris radiata they'd planted because they can take up to two years to bloom after planting, and they don't always bloom every year.  One site I consulted playfully hinted aliens from another planet controlled their bloom cycles just to torment earthbound gardeners.  

I looked at their photos of Lycoris in bloom in their posts and remembered I'd seen bulbs for sale when I made my last major nursery buyout.  I think I commented on both sites about how I wished I had picked some up.  Shortly after that my daughter pointed out more bulbs for sale at the big box hardware store where I (almost) always resist buying plants because who knows where they came from?   I agreed they were striking as we passed them by.

As I watched the rain from Tropical Storm Odile wake up heat-idled beds, I was regretting that I hadn't bought any Lycoris bulbs for my own garden spaces.  Sure, I had picked up a couple of new oxblood lily bulbs, and at least one of them began blooming already. But oxblood lilies, as lovely as they are,  just aren't quite as flamboyant as Lycoris.

I had "passed-that-plant-up-regret".  Big time.

Then as I went out to pick up Saturday's mail, you'll probably guess what I spotted out in a front bed close to our mailbox.  Yup.  Lycoris radiata.  I planted them and then forgot about them.  And I do mean FORGOT.  ALL ABOUT THEM.  As in completely, totally, if you'd insisted to me I'd already planted some, I'd call you a liar to your face.  (not really, I wasn't raised that way)

The deer have already bitten one or two flower stalks off neatly at the top.  I'm not sure why I believed all the sites claiming these were deer resistant.  Obviously I was reassured enough to plant the bulbs in jeopardy.  I'd make a joke that the deer don't read the lists of resistant plants but it is too soon.  I'm still way too peeved.

I can only hope Bambi took a bite or two and didn't like them enough to eat any more.  Ever. I hustled to get a couple of shots of the rest of the blooms just in case.  Now I'm trying to decide whether to leave them where they are or to try and move them inside the fence after their blooms fade*.  (*But before I forget.  Again.)

Anybody have any experience transplanting these beauties?  I'm all ears.

Hope Springs Autumnal

Here at the agrodolce we've had a soaking rain for the second time in as many weeks.  In combination with (slightly) cooler temperatures, it has been heartening to see a lot of heat and drought stressed plants lifting their heads and putting on an end of the season show of what they can do when given a chance.

Mostly I'd been watching for a seasonal straggler that hadn't yet shown - the oxblood lily.  I only have a couple of these, and as I've read other bloggers talking about theirs in bloom I've been stewing, wondering where my blooms were, worrying they'd been accidentally unearthed without my noticing or worse - had been fatally attacked by some underground pest.

Today I spent hours out working my curbside beds, pulling back overgrown ground covers, weeding and prepping and putting out wildflower seeds.

Unfortunately around here, one of the few areas I have with full sun is alongside the street in a spot where I can't enjoy the view except for when I'm driving up to our house or simply, stubbornly, standing out in the street to see.   I work hard to get a good display going out there and really it is all for passersby or my across the street neighbors to enjoy.

I was sitting with a glass of water moodily wishing I had a sunny spot closer to the house, staring at the bed in front of me, when I finally noticed.

There she was right in front of me.  The oxblood lily was in bloom and by golly if I didn't nearly miss it.

Talk about ungrateful.  There it is doing its beauty in the field thing right by the front door and there I was barely four feet away not even paying attention.

Some of the most poetic portions of scripture address the idea of people having ears who don't hear and having eyes who don't see.   I'm sure grateful I quit stewing about what I was missing in time to see what I had.