"Pay attention to the world." -- Susan Sontag
 

Category: oakland cemetery

Turk’s Cap Lilies (1 of 2)

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From “Lily: Symbol of Purity” in The Story of Flowers and How They Changed the Way We Live by Noel Kingsbury:

“‘Lily’ is one of the most confusing flower names, since a vast number of unrelated plants are landed with it. There are about 100 species of true Lilium, although the boundaries are much disputed by botanists….

“L. candidum, is the Madonna lily of Christianity, although it is known from the frescoes of the Minoan civilization, some 1,700 years bc. Its origins are obscure, since it was widely traded by the ancient peoples of the Mediterranean and Middle Eastern regions. The purity of the white of its flowers made it a great favourite for religious symbolism, and the association with the Virgin Mary became particularly strong.

“The other lily of pre-modern Europe, L. martagon, is a very different plant, its dark pink, spotted petals reflexing in a way that flowers very rarely do. Dubbed the ‘Turk’s cap’ lily after the turbans worn by the Ottomans, it was extensively cultivated in the gardens of the wealthy after its introduction in the late sixteenth century.”

From “Study in Still Life” in Oars in Silver Water and Other Poems by Hildegarde Fried Dreps:

I have planted lilies, but will they all grow well with me?
Will they like the glitter of this north-looking hillside?
Will they like the rude winds, the stir, the quick changes?
Would they not have shadowy stillnesses, and peace?

Lilium chalcedonicum, calla aethiopica,
Lilium auratum, candidum, the martagon,
Lilium speciosum, pardalinum, umbellatum,
Amaryllis, convalleria, nerine.

All these lovely lilies, I wish that they would grow with me,
No other flowers have the texture of the lilies,
The heart-piercing fragrance, the newly alighted angel’s
Lineal poise, and purity, and peace….

Hello!

This is the first of two posts with photographs of Turk’s Cap Lilies (Lilium martagon) from Oakland Cemetery’s gardens. These lilies all grow in the same place — and have expanded their presence in the past few years — in front of a fifteen-foot tall monument marking the grave of Patrick Connely (1791-1851), about whom I could learn very little. I did, however, find a reference to his grave site with some photographs of the monument and a short bio. This page shows the monument in a nine-year-old picture — and you can see a few stems of these lilies, which now surround the monument on all sides.

“Turk’s Cap” is one of my favorite flower names, even as its use may include several different kinds of lilies and a few other flowers. It fits these flowers well, with the Turk’s Cap “feature” mirroring the shape of a turban or similar head-covering made of fabric that winds from a circle at the bottom toward the top, often giving the impression of being a spiral built from multiple layers of cloth. And the Turk’s Cap Lilies are apparently very smart — because in addition to imitating human fashion, their flower petals contain sets of dark spots or dots that (though they may appear randomly placed) are believed to guide insects toward the juicy, pollinatory parts of the flower.

They’re like runway lights, but for bugs!

Thanks for taking a look!

Discovering Regal Lilies (2 of 2)

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From “Revelation” in Oars in Silver Water and Other Poems by Hildegarde Fried Dreps:

The Regal Lilies in my antique bowl
Reveal a song,
I see them etched upon an ancient scroll
With leaf and prong.
A simple altar and a sculptured tomb
Display their grace…
I find them stitched upon an old heirloom
Of fragile lace,
They crown the Virgin, babe, and fireside shrine
With halos bright,
And in each human heart they are divine
Symbols of light.

And peace they bring into an aching breast
Sweet as the lilies are, so sweet the rest.

From “Study in Still Life” in Oars in Silver Water and Other Poems by Hildegarde Fried Dreps:

Regal lilies in a bowl
Whose fragrance feeds my soul,
Blend with two waxen candles
Tipped with gold.
And I compare
The ivory pages of an open book
That lay serenely there.
Close by,
A Buddha calmly sits
With desire in his mystic eyes,
He gazes at the waxen candles
Because no light flames
From their golden tips.
All this is light to me!
Born of earthly fire…

Hello!

This is the second of two posts with photographs of Regal Lilies (Lilium regale) from Oakland Cemetery’s gardens. The first post is Discovering Regal Lilies (1 of 2).

As you proceed through these photos, you may notice how I varied the lighting — from backlighting, to sunlight from above, to mostly shade, to bright sun with shady backgrounds, and finally to light filtered through nearby trees. Pause for a moment and consider how different kinds of lighting alter your perception of the flowers’ colors and shadows, but also how the texture of the flower petals looks different in each of these conditions.

Thanks for taking a look!

Discovering Regal Lilies (1 of 2)

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From “A Plethora of Plants” in The Origin of Plants by Maggie-Campbell Culver:

“In 1899 Ernest Henry Wilson (1876-1930) travelled to China on behalf of the Veitch Nursery…. 

“It took the young Wilson six months to journey from England to China via the United States; here he took the opportunity to visit the Arnold Arboretum to learn about the latest techniques in plant collection, packaging and transportation….

“Wilson’s first journey was such a success and he returned with so many excellent garden-worthy plants that in 1903 he was engaged a second time by the Veitch Nursery for a further two years. In 1907 and again in 1910 he returned to China, collecting this time on behalf of the Arnold Arboretum. He became so identified with the area and was such a successful plant collector that he was often referred to as ‘Chinese’ Wilson, but his last journey to China nearly cost him his life and left him with a permanent limp….

“It has been estimated that Wilson introduced into Britain between 2,000 and 3,000 different species of seed, and many more herbarium specimens; from the seeds, at least 1,000 new plants have been introduced into cultivation….

“Possibly the most gorgeous is the Regal Lily, Lilium regale, the plant which was the indirect cause of Wilson’s ‘lily limp’. This amiable and accommodating lily, as the writer Alice Coats called his introduction, was first grown in 1905 under the name L. myriophyllum (meaning ‘many leaves’), but even though it was easy to cultivate and sweetly scented, it did not become as popular as Wilson thought it should.

“He was so keen for people to share his enthusiasm for this splendid lily that on his fourth expedition to China, in 1910, he travelled yet again from Shanghai to the borders of Tibet, where he had first found the flower, a trek of over 3,200 km (2,000 miles). The site was a remote mountain valley, and the journey to it was through some of the most difficult and desolate country….

“As Wilson himself said of the route undertaken, it was ‘absolute terra-incognita’. It is a mark of his enthusiasm that he braved this arduous journey again just so that the western world could share in the delights of the Regal Lily. Its gentle beauty and graceful habit absolutely defy its natural home; Wilson recorded in his diary that ‘no more barren and repelling country could be imagined’, but when the lovely lily burst into flower, the landscape was transformed, as he then noted, from ‘a lonely semi-desert region into a veritable fairyland’….

“It was on the return journey that, in trying to escape one of the frequent landslides, Wilson broke his leg. The remaining rigours of the journey, the delay in treatment and the subsequent infection setting in resulted in his almost having to have his leg amputated; in fact, he nearly died. In due course, he returned to America where the infection was finally cured and the leg saved, but Wilson was left, for the rest of his life, with his ‘lily limp’.”

From “Songs of Flowers” by Gwen Funston in I Hear the Song and It Wells in Me by The Poetry Society of Michigan: 

Eighty-seven and ninety-two
    sat together
    listening to old songs
    songs from youth
       memories of dancing
       with long lost mates.

Eighty-seven
    tall and stately
    dark hair turning gray
    crinkled laughter lines
       dressed in muted orchid
       amethysts and diamonds
singing the words
to every remembered melody.

Ninety-two
    tiny and erect
    white hair closely waved
    complexion lightly etched
       neatly dressed in gray
       enhanced by white
singing softly
cheeks slightly flushed.

Eighty-seven and ninety-two
an original bouquet
not seniors, not aged,
    a royal, regal lily
    and delicate, dainty rose.

Hello!

This is the first of two posts with photographs of Regal Lilies (Lilium regale) from Oakland Cemetery’s gardens. As you might be able to tell from the first three photos below, these lilies displayed an exuberant mass of flowers, stems, and leaves, so much so that it was a challenge to isolate a few individual flowers for close-up photography.

I had photographed these Regals a couple of times before (see, for example, Summer 2020: Lily Variations (1 of 10) and Lilies on Black Backgrounds (8 of 10)) — where I took the photos from some distance, since these lilies are in a terraced section of the garden, on a grassy stretch above a four-foot stone wall and set back about twenty feet from the public walkway. I hadn’t previously thought about climbing up to get a closer look — one is sometimes unsure about stomping too close to the flowers — but this time I made myself invisible (as Photographers sometimes do) and sneaked up onto the terrace to push my camera into the lilies.

With so many opened flowers, their perfume filled the air and was intoxicating, almost dizzying… and I spent about an hour photographing these beauties, until I saw one of the garden caretakers coming into view and thought I should maybe scram. I felt a wee bit like Ernest Henry Wilson — whose dangerous explorations, excerpted above, led to the introduction of Lilium regale to Britain — but I didn’t get stuck in a landslide or come home with a limp.

Thanks for taking a look!

Long-Legged Lilies (2 of 2)

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From “The Lily Family and its Relatives” in The World of Plant Life by Clarence J. Hylander: 

“The true Lilies… include some hundred north temperate species of large and beautifully flowered plants, of which the United States has a generous share. Few plants are so delicately and strikingly colored….

“The numerous western species of Lilium include the Washington Lily, Lemon Lily, Tiger Lily, Redwood Lily, Oregon Lily and the Little Leopard Lily. The Washington Lily, found in the pine forests of California and Oregon, has pure white, large, fragrant blossoms similar to those of the Easter Lily….

“Many of the native species are cultivated for their showy flowers, but in addition there have been introduced many familiar varieties. The common Easter Lily, grown to such an extent in Bermuda, is a native of China and Japan; its waxy-white blooms hardly need description. The Madonna Lily, a white-flowered species from southern Europe and Asia, is thought to be the lily so frequently referred to in the Bible; its flowers are smaller than those of the Easter Lily….”

From “Lily” in Flowers in History by Peter Coats:

“L. longiflorum comes originally from the Ryukyu Islands, and until the entire lily crop was wiped out by disease, was much grown in Bermuda. In the author’s youth, Easter or Bermudan lilies, as they were then called, were used by the thousand for party decoration, and in the ‘thirties, white lilies, with blue Echinops Ritro, the Globe thistle, arranged in square glass accumulator jars, were as popular as floral decoration as hosta leaves and Alchemilla mollis are today. L. longiflorum, as classic a lily as the Madonna, with its perfectly proportioned flowers with delicious scent, is still an appropriate flower for any occasion.”

Hello!

This is the second of two posts featuring summer-blooming Easter Lilies (Lilium longiflorum) from Oakland Cemetery’s gardens. The first post is Long-Legged Lilies (1 of 2). As with the previous post, I found these lilies growing in odd places throughout the gardens, mostly on single stems, except for those toward the center below — where their very tall stems sported a cluster of three blossoms rivaling the height of tree branches nearby.

Thanks for taking a look!

Long-Legged Lilies (1 of 2)

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From “Easter Lilies” in Lilies: Beautiful Varieties for Home and Garden by Naomi Slade:

“Native to a slender slice of East Asia, stretching from Japan to the Philippines, Lilium longiflorum is charming, fragrant and decorative. What’s more, it punches way above its weight on the floral world stage due to its adoption as the ‘Easter’ lily, a symbol of hope, purity and resurrection in the Christian faith….

“The large flowers are delightful, with perhaps half a dozen carried atop a stem clad in glossy, dark green leaves. Each long, white trumpet is palest green at the base, fading to white, while the central stigma, stamens and anthers are a faded, buttery hue.

“Left to its own devices, L. longiflorum and its cultivars would bloom in summer — usually between June and August in much of the northern hemisphere. But to perform at its best at Easter, the bulbs are forced. This is done by keeping the potted bulbs in cool temperatures – they need a period of chill in order to flower — and once they are in growth, the amount of light and warmth they receive is moderated to control bloom time….

“When potted Easter lilies have finished flowering, you can plant them out into the garden. Acclimatize the plants gradually before removing the pot, loosening the roots and settling them into the soil. The stem-rooting bulbs may take a couple of years to recover, but should flower at the normal time when they are ready.”

From “It Took Me a Moment to See” by Michael Moss in Minnesota Writes: Poetry, edited by Jim Moore and Cary Waterman:

North on Minnesota 59,
hungry for the company of strangers,
I drive past the barren golf course,
the airport deserted at dusk,
the abandoned missile silos,
Oak Lake and Lower Badger Creek
to the Third Base Supper Club;
concrete deer grazing the dead lawn,
pink Styrofoam flamingoes
framing the Mediterranean door…

On the juke box Johnny Cash sings I’m a Hero,
then Jerry Lee Lewis rocks Great Balls of Fire.
Two migrant workers, a man and a woman,
get drunk on Gallo, forget their food,
their shack, the sound of their truck,
forget their children’s voices,
the reason they crossed the border.
Wheat farmers in starched white shirts
break bread with their huge hands.
A late Easter lily blooms on the bar….

Hello!

I came across a single white lily flower at Oakland Cemetery’s Gardens in early June, the blossom sitting all by itself at the top of a very long stem, much of it hidden from view until I walked around the headstones. There were no other flowers right nearby, so it commanded attention — and got me wondering if I could find others hiding out all by themselves around the property. This post — and the next one — feature variations of Lilium longiflorum that I found in odd places, all with a single flower or small cluster of flowers that had stems so long they appeared to be hanging from trees or emerging from shrubs nearby. In one of the photos, I got photobombed by a lily sneaking a peak; if you find that one and enlarge it, you might think the lily is smiling at you.

I’ve often been hesitant to call these “Easter Lilies” — their common name — because it seemed to me that “Easter Lily” ought to refer to a flower that bloomed much earlier in the season… you know, around Easter. So I was glad to learn about the blooming difference between those we see in early spring — typically in pots or vases — and those we see in gardens later during the summer, as described in the quotation at the top of this post. I guess the right approach would be to call them Easter Lilies when we see them around Easter, but use their full name Lilium longiflorum when we see them during the summer. Maybe we could call the summer versions “Lily Longlegs” since their stems are so long, or follow the origins of their scientific name (where longi means “long” and florum means “flower”) and dub them “Lily Longflower” instead!

(P.S. It’s possible that some of these are Madonna Lilies (Lilium candidum) rather than Lilium longiflorum, but it’s hard to differentiate between the two given the angles of some of my shots.)

Thanks for taking a look!