Consider the lilies: a discourse on detachment

It happened slowly. Subtle in the beginning. First there was just one. Then two. Done after a day. If I hadn’t been paying attention they might have gone unnoticed.

Then suddenly I am looking at a whole host. Lightly fragranced. Delicate. Exquisite in their brevity of bloom.

I think these are Zephyranthes, (probably Zephyrantes candida) which I had almost forgotten rescuing from a discounted, sad looking pot with a handwritten Rain Lilly tag, discovered on the next stop compost shelf at a plant nursery last year. At the time I researched what “Rain lily” might mean and was led to Zephyrantes, finding out, amongst other things, that one of their common names is Peruvian Swamp lily. Hmmm. Doesn’t bode well for the desert, I thought.

Then, in one of those coincidences which I’ve come to regard as a feature (not a bug) of this enchanted life, my horticultural advisor mentioned Zephyrantes and I thought: Oh. I planted some of those. Then I promptly forgot about the little clump of insignificant grass-like leaves hunkered down not doing much next to the lemon verbena.

Until a few decent monsoon rainstorms transformed not doing much into a fragrant spectacle of petal and pollen. Fiesta this way, pollinators! Hurry. One day only special!

There are, of course other resources for pollinators in the late summer Garden of Earthly Delights.

Allium tuberosum (Garlic chives or Chinese chives) have been putting on wondrous displays which become great busy convention places, at certain times of the day, for the flying fuzzy buzzies of the world. Someone at farmers market tried to tell me these are Italian chives because “this lovely lady from Monticello told me they are Italian chives”. She meant a local village and home to some not very intelligent persons who consider themselves above mere mortals, awarding themselves undeserved (in my opinion) airs and graces. I doubt “lovely” Monticello lady and market visitor even know about Monticello, the famous founding father Jefferson’s heritage botanical garden and farm.

Farmers Market visitor claimed her “Italian chives” looked just like my Allium tuberosum but flower in spring AND late summer. Since she had no botanical name to go with them I am not sure what her plants actually are.

In my understanding, Allium schoenoprasum which is often called Italian chives, or just garden chives has hollow not flat leaves, and has pink flowers in spring to early summer (in my garden).

However if FM visitor has Allium neapolitanum aka Naples or Neapolitan garlic, those flowers do look a lot like Allium tuberosum BUT mine only flower once. In spring. And Allium neapolitanum has small white garlic like bulbs while Allium tuberosum doesn’t. I propagate it by seed or root division.

But who am I to challenge folksy beliefs, unfounded in science or empiricism, gleaned from some “lovely lady” in a god forsaken, almost ghost town in rural south central New Mexico where there has not been even the faintest shimmering mirage of a milagro for years. Too much greedy grasping new city money and trust fundites moved in, and sent the saints packing, in my opinion. I’m beginning to find myself harbouring a curmudgeonly attitude to Monticello people, which, I acknowledge, isn’t really fair to those one or two worthy people of integrity (if they exist) who might call the village home.

Stepping down from my soapbox now. This edible periennial pollinator attractor, which I understand to be Allium tuberosum, is colonizing the outback very well, thank you. They spread to seed themselves far and wide with a deliberation that is astounding in something apparently legless and rooted. I sense a divide and redistribute program coming up. Probably in springtime, when they revive after winter dormancy.

Though temperatures remain high and mosquitoes continue to be demonic at dawn, the apricot tree, always the first, is calling time on the season.

The local feral feline basks on a bench, eying a bunch of busy Orioles as they gather in great groups at and around a watering station.

“Don’t even think about it“ I say to Felonious Feline.

“I might. But then again I might not” says FF feigning sleep.

I go back to my baking project.

Using my new impulse purchase kitchen scoop tool, I bake up a storm of perfectly formed lentil patties. When everything is going to hell, cooking helps, a friend remarked recently. The right tools do too. Imagine these savoury lentil lovelies with a lemon tahini dip. Fresh picked spicy rocket (arugula) salad on the side. Mmmmmm. Don’t you wish you were here?

It looked stormy on Saturday so I played hooky from Saturday farmers market to go take a hike, get some perspective.

The view at dawn from the Emory Pass Overlook trailhead never gets old.

Back home I find a decent sized bunch of Dragon Tongue beans to harvest. “Great in children’s gardens” the catalogue recommended. Perhaps because one needs to be knee high to a grasshopper to find these beasties hidden under leaves. Those dragons are sneaky and secretive with their tongues.

Unlike my purple hull, pinkeyed favorites, Vigna unguilata (cowpeas, black eyed peas) which hold their pods up and out, proudly displaying productivity on sturdy stalks.

I squeeze a few pods, but decide they are not ready yet for harvest. I could eat them now as fresh peas but I’m hoping to add to the dried legume pantry store from this planting.

Pomegranates are swelling and gaining a good blush. I’ve been watching my dream of a desert fruit hedge closely after a very disappointing year last season. Though two trees seem to be struggling still with some mysterious ailment causing stunted and cracked fruit (virus? climatic conditions?uneven watering?) one, the smallest, the runt of the hedge row, is offering good sized fruit this season.

I bring one in and savor this sweet desert delight. Ahhh! Pomegranate season again!

Once again I am late summer sweating at the print table, preparing stock for Southwest Print Fiesta in Silver City in early October. Along with this year’s three new petroglyph inspired designs, I’ve added a few new colours to the kitchen towel range. There’s a lovely murky, great grey green greasy Limpopo river coloured olive green khaki (pictured above) which I call Park Ranger green. Yes. You. Thank you for your service. Thank you for stewarding our public lands, natural resource treasures, history and archaeological heritage.

I’m offering one free hand block printed kitchen towel to any bona fide National, State or Tribal Park Ranger who presents verifiable proof of service credentials, in person, at my booth in Silver City, NM on Saturday October 11.

Also launching at the Print Fiesta will be brightly colored little strings of hope, Path With A Heart wind horses. Aka bunting or flags. What’s in a word? Don’t ask. Don’t tell. Lips are sealed.

While at the printing table, I steady myself, printing a big batch of seed packets for the new season of seeds. Playing with words. As always. Thinking about all those who wield words and their voices fearlessly for peace, truth and justice. Everywhere. The pen is mightier.

I turn around a find a dead spider at my feet. No, it’s not a black widow but a red backed jumper. More interestingly it seems to have the same choice in tattoo design as me. What. The….do we now have Spider Grandmother, the Great Weaver on the line? What’s that?Embrace creativity, you say? Yes, Grandmother, I hear you. Thank you Grandmother.

In the end, maybe we are both, this mysterious spider and myself, just girls with deer tattoos inspired by a long dead inked lady, the Princess of Ukok, living and dying in an enchanted land.

Recommended Reading

The Kingdom, the Power and the Glory: American Evangelism in an Age of Extremism by Tim Alberta, 2023.

Confession time: I’ve eyed this title reluctantly in my library several times over the past couple of years since its publication. It received rave reviews from reputable quarters. But. The topic seemed weighty.

A week or two ago, I took the plunge and borrowed the audiobook, performed by the author. Turned out to be perfect timing (again, as an aside, that enchanted coincidence thing…) to be absorbing this excellent piece of well researched, well written reporting with a good dollop of autobiography in the mix.

Like going up the mountain to hike the Emory Pass Overlook trail (but different) it gave me valuable perspective. I urge everyone, even non Americans, to read this book. Perspective. Understanding. Wisdom. A continuum of hope. Like my Path With A Heart wind horses.

And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:

And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?

Matthew 6 verses 28-30. King James Version.