A flower from a toad lily growing in my rooftop garden can be seen in the picture atop this entry. I first wrote about this flora variety in August of 2016 after Juan V (JV) had planted her in a box style container that also is a home to my Sweet Autumn Clematis.*
These delicate lily-like flowers got their common name (Toad Lily) from the fact that many of them have spotted petals. Perennials gardeners have learned that they make dependable color in the garden during late summer and fall when most other flowers are gone, as evidenced in my photo which was taken this September.
I'm a little frustrated and discouraged these days and I may even be projecting my feeling of helplessness on to my sweet Toad Lilies; for when I saw the way they held their petals other week, I envisioned them in fervent prayer (as you might too, had you seen them) begging the heavens (hopefully on my behalf) for certain positive forward moving answers to my somewhat discouraging circumstances.
The voices I imagined these lilies to have seem a bit contrary to the traditional interpretation of the parable of the lilies of the field asks "... why are ye anxious concerning raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin..."
However, there is one single toad lily flower who doesn't seem to be anxious and pleading with her petals for help, rather she is quietly folding them in anticipation.
This is something I need to do, quietly anticipate with expectation, that my needs and the needs of others will be met.
*As I said, the Sweet Autumn Clematis (a fall blooming vine) shares her home with my toad lilies. This vine has undergone a lot of trauma in my place and yet continues to thrive! One of her trials is documented in volume two of my hardcover book series, Words In Our Beak.
|VOLUMES ONE AND TWO|
This vine's plight during garden upheavals is surely of interest to anyone who has an urban or container garden or who just enjoys reading about gardening adventures.