Wednesday, June 4, 2008
I first saw lewisias at one of my favourite nurseries. They were nestled becomingly in small, curvy hypertufa planters, glowing in shades of orange and pink and hot magenta. Absolutely gorgeous.
It was late spring and I was on a Mission to find a plum tree for the new house (I was on one of my Escape the Renovation Experience Excursions), but found myself instantly besotted with these instead. Plus, there were no plum trees handy.
I grabbed the pinkiest-orangiest one I could find, feeling somewhat repelled by the $8.99 price tag, and decided I would have an Alpine Garden in the new house. I plopped it into a nice, sloping, rock-filled bed, and waited.
And nothing happened.
It would have been laughably tragic, had I not in the meantime found a cheaper source (ooh, I sound like a junkie, don't I?) and bought SIX MORE of them! As it was, none of them did much more than send a spoof of a bloom all bloody summer. They looked like dollar store hens and chicks. They wilted a bit. They started to shrivel even. I felt as though I were living in a Shakespearean Floral Tragedy: Lewisias Torment Garden Enthusiast With Lack of Show. Yes, yes, you can laugh at what you no doubt imagine is just me being overly dramatic, but I was unable to find much humour in the situation, I have to say. I felt as though my Grand Passion was going horribly unrequited. I had had great hopes for those lewisias.
(Spin forward in time 8 months)
Fortunately for all of us, those lewisias have changed their minds about living chez Greenridge Alpine Garden. They're putting on a pretty spectacular show this spring. It's Broadway out there right now - lights cameras AND action - all in one glorious clash of fuchsia, pink, and orange. I might have to put on my tap shoes and join them for a few numbers...