An Amaryllis Family Gathering (4 of 4)

From Garden Bulbs for the South by Scott Ogden:

“The most popular of the spring growers is Lycoris squamigera, an old garden selection known as the magic lily. One rarely finds a more beautiful flower possessed of such an undemanding disposition. It’s nearly ideal for gardens in the middle and upper South, and even into the cold climates of the Midwest. On both sandy acid soils and heavy alkaline clays, L. squamigera thrives.

“Sometime after the Fourth of July, rainfall triggers the thick scapes of surprise lilies to bolt upward from the ground. They rise swiftly, in four or five days expanding to crowns of succulent, lilac-pink buds. The clustered blossoms open to look like small amaryllises, shimmering with lavender highlights on their broad rounded petals.

“Like the triploid Lycoris radiata, this strong-growing species enjoys an extra set of chromosomes, which fuel unusual vigor. Genetic evidence suggests that these were acquired through hybridization….

“Lycoris squamigera reportedly came to America with a certain Dr. Hall of Bristol, Rhode Island, who grew the flowers in his garden in Shanghai, China, prior to the American Civil War. Several other spring-growing lycoris have made their way to North America, but none approach Lycoris squamigera in prominence or widespread adaptability….

“Lycoris incarnata is occasionally offered as well; its rose blooms are accented by electric-blue petals…. [They] have gray-green spring foliage and produce flowers in late summer along with Lycoris squamigera….”

From “The Metaphysical Garden” in Collected Poems (1930-1973) by May Sarton:

It was late in September when you took me
To that amazing garden, hidden in the city,
Tranquil and complicated as an open hand,
There among green pleasances and descant of fountains,
Through walled paths and dappled loggias
Opening to distant trees,
We went conversing, smoking, often silent,
Our feet cool in sandals, nonchalant as the air.

It was at the end of September, warm for the season.
Nothing had fallen yet to bruise the grass.
Ripeness was all suspended,
The air aromatic and fresh over sun-drenched box.

Critical as Chinese philosophers,
We performed the garden by easy stages:
Should we move toward shade or toward sunlight,
The closed dark pool or the panoplied fountain?

Clearly each path had a metaphysical meaning,
Those rustic steps, that marble balustrade.
It was late in September when time,
Time that is not ours,
Hid itself away.…

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Hello!

This is the fourth of four posts with photos of Amaryllis family plants that I photographed during the summer. The previous posts are An Amaryllis Family Gathering (1 of 4), An Amaryllis Family Gathering (2 of 4), and An Amaryllis Family Gathering (3 of 4).

The series features photos of Amaryllis family members Crinum bulbispermum, Lycoris squamigera, and Lycoris incarnata. The first two are well-known and common historical garden plants, while the last — Lycoris incarnata, or the Peppermint Spider Lily — is a bit more mysterious but nevertheless delightful to have encountered and photographed.

I’m posting this on the last day of September, so I was glad to find a poem — “The Metaphysical Garden” by May Sarton — that seems to capture the sense of exploring a historical garden on one of those days marking the transition from summer to fall. I excerpted just the opening four stanzas; but it’s much longer than that and you can read the whole poem here, if you’d like.

Thanks for taking a look! See you in October!

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