Flower History

During my first grown up job, my boss, who also wrote a syndicated garden column, gave me the ugliest bulb ever for Christmas. Being polite I thanked him. Having confidence in him, I planted it. 

First, a little green tongue appeared and then a second and they shot up and up and up. 

I learned that it was an amaryllis and over the years I've sometimes bought amaryllis bulbs to recreate the pleasure of watching them blossom. I've also given them as gifts, especially to the mamies (the old women in Argelès who are confined to home.

This years I bought a bulb that was extra ugly. It's bottom was a mass, and I mean mass of gray thread-like roots. Still in memory of my old boss, whom was my professional godfather and whose advice I followed throughout my career and life, we planted and then watched each day as it became... 

   ... taller and taller and then budded.

First one bud burst into bloom and it seemed when our backs were turned another and another and another until for Christmas day we had eight huge blossoms.

I could wax poetical and describe it as the rebirth of life. We have just celebrated the solstice and this is the season throughout time cultures have celebrated (re)birth. I could compare it to the story of the ugly duckling. Instead, I think this year, I will save the bulb and try and resurrect it next year.