More than six years ago, before my baby boy married his bride, Rachel, she gifted me with a pot of amaryllis at Christmas. Amaryllis bulbs are easily forced to bloom during the holidays.
Because I am prone to kill plants in pots, after we had enjoyed the amaryllis blossoms, I put it in a flower bed outside, and forgot about it. Apparently, it thrives on neglect.
I planted some comfrey for its medicinal qualities, and it has spread over the area where the amaryllis is planted. This spring, the narrow strap-like leaves pushed through the comfrey, and then produced these blooms.
It brightens up the back yard like fairies in red dresses, and the bees love it. Can you see the pollen?
From that single bulb, I counted seventeen blooms this years. (Yes, I count flowers. Yes, I do have a life.) The bulbs probably need to be separated, but I hesitate to touch them while they are doing so well. I'll think about it next year.
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