Here are this year’s amaryllis plants blooming together.
It is the first blooming for the two pinks in the middle.
The second blooming for the two red and whites on the ends.
From left to right are Santiago, Pink Surprise, Pink Pizzazz and Spotlight.
My next post will feature Spotlight again. My first post did not do it justice.
This is how I survive winters. These beauties will go out in the garden.
They need a flat spot in full sun and a lava rock nest to thrive.
Flower surviving February
I ventured out into the cold this morning because I saw this straight line of crystals across the top of this glass table. I feared a crack had formed.
When I touched the line, I discovered the crystals were not on the top of the glass. They were underneath.
There was no crack, maybe just an invisible scratch.
I am puzzled by the lovely patterns formed by the crystals.
Every day brings a new mystery!
Floe
This may be a new favorite amaryllis. It sparkles in the sunshine.
Its pink has some heat to it. It seems very happy next to my desk.
The test will be how it performs in the garden.
This may be the first time I have ever used the word PIZZAZZ.
It is true for this gorgeous bloom.
FLOWER
(I took four sets of photos, none do this bloom justice.)
I gave this amaryllis to friends as Christmas gifts.
It was the star of the garden last May.
Most amaryllis flowers are big and showy, but this one stood out.
Its blooms are bigger than an outstretched hand. The stalks are around fourteen inches tall. The color is a watery, deep pink.
Okay I confess…it reminds me of watermelon.
Here I am on a dreary day in February, being reminded of yummy watermelon.
Surprise!
Flower
I sat down to delete pictures from my phone today. As I was scrolling and clicking, a picture caused a pause.
We had taken snow pictures at the farm. The picture I thought was of the tracks made by the neighbors’ roaming dogs and cats triggered some memories.
“Two-toe triangle.” and “Four forward.” These are my terms for coyote tracks. I had not even considered coyote tracks, because I wasn’t looking for them.
We do have bobcats and coyotes here, so I should have looked more closely. I was busy thinking of other things as we checked for damage in the snow.
I am not surprised by the presence of coyotes at the farm. I am, however, surprised that I did not remember my track tips. Maybe I am no longer alert, now that my bunnies are gone.
FLOW slipping in the snow (mentally)
I have spent the evening under an electric blanket, because I spent the afternoon on ice.
I have always thought ice was beautiful. Ice sculptures are especially fascinating to me.
I briefly watched an artist carving a giant block of ice to demonstrate this skill.
Many of this year’s Blowing Rock Winter Fest displays were molded ice shapes with business logos embedded. This is a new type of ice art.
There were also true pieces of sculptured ice which had 3-D shapes and varied textures.
It was a wonderful way to get out of the winter funk.
Flow in Snow
My friend Pearl has been busy all afternoon refurbishing her nest.
I have watched her carry sticks up the tree and add them to her home.
Does she sense another snow is on its way?
We shall see.
Flow
There are tiny tracks everywhere after a fine dusting of snow.
This snow is so light and fine it moves like powdered sugar.
A white dusting is perfect for tiny tracks that would not show up in big snows.
My favorite spot for tiny tracks is under bushes. That’s where the small and skittish roam.
I usually carry a penny for scale, but did not have one in my bathrobe.
I know these three were probably not under the bush at the same time, but I like thinking about three tiny creatures hanging out under a bush telling about how they pass their time when it is cold.
So I imagine a little bird with the young chipmunk meeting a mouse for a chat.
Thankfully there are no cat tracks around.
Flow
The birds told me it was around. They did not like its quiet presence. It was hunched up at the top of the bank where there seems to be a little path for small animals. It was watching and waiting. At first I thought it was a big, dirty rock of white quartz.
The next day it was back near the same spot, sunning and preening. I was out pacing in the cold. I thought about how relaxed it seemed, not ferocious and wild. Maybe it is a wandering visitor instead of a feral intruder. How does one tell?
This morning I started out my front door to look for it. It slithered away from the warm wall of the carport and disappeared into the woods up the hill. I hope it is not here to eat my chipmunk friends.
No, I will not be feeding nor adopting the cat on the hill. I have my rules about wild things. I have other rules for feral things.
I will only be watching the cat on the hill.
FLOW
floweralley 