What gardening sage
will I have to be
to fathom the how
of this galaxy?
I can fathom the why:
to make our lives livable.
That is an axiom
I hold is unquibabble.
It grew from a blob
like tentacled shmoo
I can’t figure how
such blithe transformation
from dowdy drab bulb
to winged constellation.
With thanks to my dear friend Donna,
who sent these winter wings.
February 1, 2023 at 12:07 pm
This is beautiful Maureen. Like the moth to a butterfly or a duck to a swan, those bulbs produce the most incredible beauty of flowers. How lucky are we to witness it? We really need to stop and smell the flowers more often…and notice their beauty and fragrance.
These gorgeous flowers made me smile this morning. Thank you!
February 1, 2023 at 12:14 pm
That’s how I feel. I cannot understand how that miserable-looking bulb turns into these incredible flowers. Botany can explain it only so far — at least to me. There has to be some hocus-pocus to it. Thanks for admiring them with me, Ginger!
February 1, 2023 at 1:15 pm
In many ways, a description of the spring that is surely on its way. Very nice!
February 1, 2023 at 1:43 pm
A lovely thought! Thanks, Dan!
February 1, 2023 at 2:19 pm
Gorgeous, and a welcome sight on this mighty cold winter day. Those bulbs are not the most beautiful, but their flowers sure make a gardener smile. 🙂
February 1, 2023 at 2:28 pm
They sure do. I stare at these flowers a lot and marvel at them. It’s an absolute wonder how they come from that sorry-looking bulb. But then we wonder at the same kind of thing from a tiny seed. Gardeners spend a lot of time wondering, I think.
February 1, 2023 at 5:27 pm
blob, tentacled shmoo, squatly lugubrious–I just love your words for today, Maureen!
February 1, 2023 at 6:35 pm
Thanks, Lois! I am very partial to the word “shmoo” and I wish I could take credit for it. I am not sure many even remember the shmoos, but they oughtn’t be forgotten!
February 1, 2023 at 6:46 pm
These are beautiful. I have two amaryllis plants that sit outside in their pots all year long, through heat waves and winter drizzle. They reward me by blooming every two years. They take turns.
February 1, 2023 at 7:15 pm
Every other year? I think it is most thoughtful of them to trade off like that! How wonderful to live in a climate where the amaryllis flourish outdoors!
February 1, 2023 at 7:19 pm
Actually, I learned this from my late Herron art school friend, Jan. She was a master gardener and had her amaryllis plants outside in sun and shade all summer long. I’m sure she took them indoors during the winter, however. It doesn’t freeze where I live, so they just get blown around and rained on. Right now, sleet is banging against my windows, but that’s as bad as it gets. I hope.
February 1, 2023 at 7:35 pm
I too hope that sleet is as bad as it gets! I kept last year’s amaryllis plants outside last summer, and I think Tamara did too. I hope ours do as well as yours!
February 3, 2023 at 3:32 pm
The big bang of the plant world. It’s a magnificent plant and almost as tentacled in the flower as in the roots, just with tentacles that have gone through the wringer.
February 3, 2023 at 3:37 pm
Well said! I hadn’t thought of it that way, but, yes, tentacled still. It’s got to be magic.