Lucifer's Horns

Day 284: Over the years, the front corner of the flowerbed has been occupied with a succession of plants, none of which has been fully successful. The first was a densely bristly, compact spruce of some sort which never failed to bite me when I was weeding. It grew tall and interfered with the power lines and the roots were threatening the house foundation, so I decided it and its companion by the kitchen door had to go. Digging them out was a major task involving everything short of stumping dynamite which, in any event, wouldn't have done my sidewalk any good. The one in the corner was replaced by a camellia which proved too tender for our cold mountain winters. Frost invariably nipped blooming in the bud, and the leaves generally looked ratty. Still, it had been a fairly expensive shrub (it was a yellow variety), so I made inquiries among my friends and found one who was willing to take a chance that it might live or die. I delivered it to her in a bucket where she left it for a week before planting. Amazingly, it survived and is quite happy in its new home.

Although I really wanted something evergreen for that corner, I didn't want to risk having to uproot something a few years down the line. I also wanted something which would dominate the corner, i.e., a fairly wide and tall plant. Abandoning the idea of evergreens, I started casting about for other things which would fill the spot seasonally. I finally selected a Crocosmia (var. Lucifer) in full knowledge that it will take over the garden given half a chance. I planted one four-inch pot of thready starts. The plant is now in its second year, barely fills a foot of ground space, but the flower heads stand waist-high and bring a note of vivid color to the yard. If it wants to spread, I say, "Spread away!"