Lilium season. It feels like a very long time ago, but in fact has only been a few years, since I began planting out hundreds of seedlings from my hybridising addiction. I planted out hundreds more grown from seed generously sent to me from across Australia and around the world. These were exciting plant-outs! I looked forward to seeing all the fruits - the flowers - of my loving labour. And indeed they prospered and flowered! Rewardingly, astonishingly, happily, beautifully! The preparation and feeding and watering and time all came together in several glorious summers.
But hmm... this garden was on shaky ground. It wasn't the 'gift' it wanted to be. It was entangled with expectations and conditions beyond reasonable reason. I couldn't stay. Planting is a momentous commitment. When you're a gardener, it says a lot! It says, I'm Growing with You. We're in this Together. We're here For Good.
Bah.Humbug. So I planted gardens and discovered the whole premise was based on fantasy. If gardens are fantastical representations of plans, ideals and hopes, these gardens were doubly duped. Alas, alack, we are ever self-deceivers.
I stopped planting the lily beds when I couldn't draw the optimism to believe I was committing them to forever homes. Stopped tending them when I ran out of resources to keep investing. I don't want to lose them or for them to die, but I'm now in hiatus from my 'art' with Lilium. I have to figure out how to salvage the best from these before I can create more. How to rescue them. But right now, they are striving for survival in the Great Summer of Neglect.
And despite my failing, look what blooms!
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