The rain lilies have been blooming here and there for about a month now, but this morning I woke up to rain lilies outside the back door……flanking the Tiffany rose as I rounded the corner.First I saw them in the back yard, then in the front yard…a clear sign it’s time to mow.And I discovered the last patch composting tonight.
Tag Archives: rain lilies
It seemed my amaryllis bulbs bloomed early this year. When searching for the reason and normal bloom months, I came across something more interesting; apples sterilize amaryllis bulbs. I knew not to store onions with potatoes because the potatoes would sprout and spoil early, but bulbs were a staple in our mini-fridge for a couple years without a thought as to what should or should not be stored next to them.
An absolutely ridiculous effort because my garden is in South Florida, there are no more bulbs in the mini-fridge to worry about. I’ve happily accepted amaryllis and rain lilies as the two sole bulbs that can survive the heat. Rain lilies are summer bulbs; the amaryllis are turning into true spring bulbs.
Both bulbs came with the house. They didn’t bloom the first year, a combination of John-gone-wild with weed-killer and my transplanting everything in site to my liking. I read after yanking them up that amaryllis don’t transplant well. Luckily, mine did just fine. The first wave bloomed in time for Mother’s Day and the next year for Easter.
Even though they fill the aisles at Christmas, those two years had me believing they were Spring-holiday bulbs blooming in either April or May. Now looking back at pictures, they bloomed in March last year too. My research found that the flowering season is a long window; they could pop up anytime from late December through June. I’m attributing the March blooms to warmer winters over the past two years.
The apple-effect has to be attributed to ethylene. Ethylene is a gas produced by plants that can affect other plants. Like a plant super-power, it can signal germination, kill petals, change the color of leaves, and so I have to assume, sterilize amaryllis bulbs too. A gas leak in 1901 led to the discovery that ethylene affected plant growth, but it took three more decades for scientists to realize that plants actually produced ethylene.
Beyond our picnic at Ken Thompson Park on Saturday, our weekend was mainly filled with movies and naps. It was wonderful…until Monday. Because then, all the things that should have been done over the weekend were glaring at me – the knee-high grass especially. So I complained to John last night, dusting off a vague recollection of him saying he would mow the grass last week, and woke up to this.
Maybe I should thank him for my 30+ stem bouquet.
The ground is bursting with rain lilies, and the air is thick with love bugs. Summer is around the corner; those are the signs. Plants, insects, animals, they, we are all so predictable.
He’s feeling better, but my father is in the hospital right now. And although his heart rate is currently unpredictable, he is normally one of the more predictable characters in my life. Like a cardinal is red, my father’s feathers are blue and khaki. Every single day he wears a blue shirt, khaki pants or shorts, and work boots. He wore a gray shirt one Christmas Eve, and I’ll never forget it because I may never see it again. When I asked about the shirt, he rolled his eyes and told me my step-mother made him wear it. Thank God his hospital gown is blue. There must be at least a little comfort in that for him…that and his boots. He’s allowed to keep those on.
There was no time for gardening this week. There was only time for moving and Megamind. Don’t frot; the garden is still in place…and that’s not a tippo, go see Megamind! We moved our Sarasota insurance agency to a new location, so life is feeling chaotic again. Last time it was plumbing; this time it’s moving. The commonality comes with an out-of-season Rain lily popping up out of nowhere. I feel lucky to have even spotted it through the window.
Last time, the lily popped up in a pile of dirt. This time, it sprung from the covered up hole. Both were unexpected surprises in the midst of muck and hopefully signs of better days to come. I don’t need to run through a field of flowers or marry a millionaire; I’m a simple woman. I just want a life without boxes and no need for a car when going to use the restroom. Neither project is complete, but…
It’s been pretty rough around here lately - plumbing problems! Ugh - the grossest, dirtiest, worst of all problems, and they happen to be taking place in the middle of my rose garden. The pipe runs under the brick pavers, so John dug holes on either side of the path for now, but the bricks are inevitably next.
Those are only half the holes; there are more. And the holes are so big that I’ve actually considered the worst-case-scenario – Lukey falling in one! Do you think Chili would make a miniature capsule for the rescue? And since we’re playing make-believe…
Luke was a reluctant star playing horse for Halloween. Back to reality…my rose garden is a piece of smelly Swiss cheese. But in the midst of it all, out of nowhere and out of season, popped a Rain lily. You can see it at the top of the first photo – look for a dot of pink amongst the dusty gray backdrop of disheveled ground. Here’s a better picture of the flower:
Rain lilies bloom during the summer and after a rain storm, neither of which fits this case. I’m taking it as a Hallmark card from the universe. It’s either a get well card addressed to the yard or a hang in there card addressed to me. Either way it made me stop and smile in the midst of chaos. Thanks, Universe!
Mowing your lawn is completely overrated this time of year.
Why would you want to miss out on the Zephyranthes? A.K.A. Rain lilies, some bulbs produce seed pods instead of flowers. As the pod opens, the paper-thin seeds fly everywhere from the garden beds to the grass.
I’ve spent hours digging and corralling them to certain areas - what a waste of time! You’ll never get them to stay put, and I don’t know why I ever bothered. Now instead of grabbing the shovel, I grab my camera and enjoy the surprise.
Normally, my Rain lilies make a much grander entrance. Three days after the first good summer storm they start springing up by the dozen. This year they can’t seem to wait for a storm. One by one, they’re popping up in random places throughout the garden…
Amongst the Mums…
Under a Croton…
In a clump of Salvia…
I used to work at a restaurant where we had to wear blindingly bright Hawaiian shirts – channel Denny’s in the late 90′s; it’s the only other place and time I’ve ever seen them. Anyway, the shirts were so overpowering that when I’d see someone outside of work, I wouldn’t recognize them.
I’ve spent days ignoring my instincts about this flower that popped up between the thorns of Mr. Lincoln, all because one element was off – the timing. The broad blades of foliage, the pink petals, and the long thin stem all pointed to a rain lily. Still, I spent the week searching online and checking out bulb books from the library only to discover that this is in fact a Zephyranthes (Rain Lily). The bulbs were scattered throughout the garden and still are somewhat, but I’ve tried to gather and contain them to a few prime spots. This picture was taken in May during the first round of blooms this year:
They continued to bloom throughout much of the summer, but haven’t made an appearance in months. The recent absence combined with the deep pink petals had me convinced this flower was something other than a lily. I overlooked the much simpler explanation; it’s a late bloomer.