Once a month our sassy, indefatigable head hoe, Carol of May Dreams Gardens, leads us around the garden on a voyage of discovery. “Show me your blossoms!” she demands. As compliant, willing, giddy gardeners, we do our best to comply. NEVERMINDthat some of us are closer to the 45 parallel than the 35th. NEVERMINDthat at this moment in time, it looks like a nuclear winter in Boise, ID, hoar frost/fog/smog pushing your very essence down. No, gentle reader, let me show you what I have blooming right now:
This plant wants to bloom. It really does. To make me happy.
These amaryllis are going to bloom. Dammit.
When all else fails, toss a candied hibiscus blossom in your champagne. Go ahead.
Technically not alive, but a blossom all the same.
There are blossoms everywhere. Honest.
OK, when we aren’t growing them, we are reading about them. Blossoms. Blooms.
And then you have this.