Cala Lillies are the dependable presence each spring in my overgrown garden. Their white, architectural curves opening from the straight, green shoots add spots of brightness to the various corners of the yard they inhabit of their own accord.
But it is the hellibore that speaks to me most emphatically of renewal each spring. I take note of the spikey leaves growing too big and brittle during the fall as I walk from my back steps to studio each day, and then stop noticing it altogether during the wet winter as it disappears. But in spring it surprises me. I noticed the new bush today, with its full crop of young heads, bowed, showing just the outside blush of their lavender petals with delicate veins of deep purple mixing with pale green. To see the full flower one must bend down and lift up the blossom as if lifting the chin of a teen-ager and saying “here, show me your wonderfulness that you are so reticent to present to the world.”