I love good surprises.
Yesterday I spent a few minutes in the garden, taking a breather from mental activity. First I was in despair over the sheer number of Inca lilies coming up all over.
But then the nice part; there over to the side, not really visible from the dining room where I work, was a lovely surprise. An indigenous plant I bought some years ago, and that so far has just put up 3 long thick stems with big leaves making a round pattern like a circular hand on each, had finally flowered. Not just one big flashy flower, but a series of smaller dainty multi-leaved orange flowers.
What a lovely surprise. Just what I needed after noticing that despite ALL my digging and removing, that hundreds of Inca lilies have appeared. WTF? I gave away bags and bags of the bulbs. I re-dug every inch and removed what I thought were ALL of them. This thing is a bit like a Triffid or something.
Oh well, out comes the female killer in me. I’m going to poison them! One by one I will paint on the killer stuff. No spraying, or something I want to grow may die.
They are like weeds. What’s the definition of a weed? Something growing somewhere that someone doesn’t want there.
What is it with us? The things that grow easily are despised or removed, those that take time and effort are prized.