It's March

lily time. Amaryllis belladonna. Always on time. Exquisite, but a little creepy. Softly pink and sweetly fragrant cannot mask the subtle bitterness that warns of toxic alkaloids.

The scent evokes an old perfume in a dusty recess of my childhood memories. Feminine, but with a dark, slightly jarring undertone. I think it was a scent my grandmother wore for evening occasions in the 1970's. Something that smelt of Europe in the 40's, a relict from a grander life. But I'm not really sure, and don't have the words to resurrect it properly.

happy sad Gladiolus

Last night a gentle rain fell all night. And in the morning everything was soft and wet and fresh. And Gladiolus tristis, whose name of course means the sad Gladiolus, was positively radiating contentment. And although it's normally only scented in the evening, on this overcast morning it is strongly perfumed.
Despite how delicate it looks, this Cape lowlands geophyte is tough, and from a handful of bulbs I bought way back from Adriaan Hanekom at the Caledon Fynbos Nursery, I now have several overflowing pots full, have given more away, and still have plants popping up in any soil that ever hosted them.