Sleepy Hollow

Above: the first year for Sleepy Hollow, in the veggie patch, among the dill, the still green tomatoes and the rest of the gang.

The daylilly called Sleepy Hollow has chosen this cool and rainy week-end to bloom for the first time this year. Its big dark wide face is open to the drops of rain and does not seem to mind one bit.

The gloomy color is quite a contrast to the rest of the garden: I had bought it because it was T's favorite color. He's the one who told me that it was named after the scary tale of a headless horseman. Through the years, it has not gotten bigger very much, to the point that I thought I may have to dig it up and pamper it a bit more. But this year, it has proven to be unnecessary: it is thriving and has matured quite well.

It certainly fits the mood of the weekend: I pity those that work and depend on these two days to enjoy the outdoors. It was nice and sunny and hot all week and the forecast is the same for next week. But for now, a bit of rain will help the garden flourish and get ready for the coming wave of color.

At the other end of the backyard garden blooms the daylilly on Molly's tomb. It started a few days ago, but today, two very prim blooms look at me standing at the back door, and I can tell from way over here that another flower bud is just about ready to burst.

I had ordered Pandora's Box to grow on Molly's last resting place, but after a few years, the plant bloomed at last and I could see that is not what was delivered to me, so I do not know its name. The flowers are more in the peachy tones, although the throat is a little darker than the rest of the petals.

But the plant is small and delicate like Molly was, with subdued colors, just like Molly's fur, so I am satisfied that it honors her memory well enough.