I don’t think I’ve experienced a more pleasant July in east Texas. Or, anywhere in the southeast US for that matter. It feels like the weather is trying to atone for its sins of last summer where we had 36 days over 100°F and not much rain for a month and a half.
Sure, life was less than ideal when Hurricane Beryl knocked our power out for over two days right before we had over a dozen family members come to our house for Magnolia’s first birthday party.
But, the 4.6 inches of rain and cloudy days gave us mornings in the 60’s. Another cold front last week dropped the highs into the 80’s and brought another 2.5 inches. And, then this week, we got another 3.5 inches in the rain gauge.
To be honest it feels like September when the rains typically return, and there is the slightest chill on the breeze that July never has. I’m not saying it’s not still hot and muggy, but instead of sweating through five or six shirts a day, it’s three now.
The plants have responded to the kind weather. They lack that sunburned, crispy appearance they usually have in midsummer, and there are so many colors of green to enjoy.
The summer geophytes have also begun to emerge. It always amazes me how within days of precipitation we go from nothing there to brand new flowers. It’s still too early for Lycoris, but the rain lilies and spider lilies are flowering. I anticipated the rain lilies, but I was surprised to see our Hymenocallis occidentalis (summer spider lily) emerge so early. Usually, it’s August or September when they make an appearance, but I happily welcome them in early July.
Though I knew Hymenocallis from seeing their strap-like leaves in the woods before leaving Tennessee, I have gotten to know the genus much better and finally see it flower in Texas. My plants came from back roadsides where they had propagated themselves over the years into large patches.
The foliage and flowering time is useful to help identify spider lilies in Texas. Hymenocallis lirisome blooms in the spring with foliage. For Hymenocallis occidentalis, their bold straps of foliage in spring contrast well against the filigree foliage, but the flowers don’t appear on summer spider lily until the later in the season. And, there’s two forms of summer spider lily— var. occidentalis that blooms with most of the foliage still intact on the plant and var. eulae that occurs in Texas where the foliage has faded by the time they bloom but in wet years like this the leaves will hang on as long as they can.
I usually get a few weeks of flowers off one clump as scapes continue to rise as bulbs respond to rain. I have planted them near the spires of Eryngium yuccifolium (rattlesnake master). The echo of white in both species’ flowers builds coherence while the different structures provide complexity. The flowers of spider lilies fade somewhat fast, but the papery tissue can be cleaned off easily. And, like anything worn white their coronas are prone to stains from the pollen.
Hymenocallis flowers will pop open in twilight, and standing near one is well worth the theatrics. The floral parts will jostle as the flower opens and slowly releases like an unfurling umbrella. And, then the hawk moths come. We hate them for the damage that their larval hornworms do to tomatoes and peppers, but we love them for their vesper dance as they find the giant white flowers. And, we thank them for the seed that appear about a month later.
It’s surprising and sad that such a tough, reliable plant isn’t more available in the trade, likely because this species is a stress-tolerator that takes a few years to go from seed to flower.
My first seed came not from plants in my garden but from my friend Greg Grant. He shared these lumpy green grapes with me. I thought the seed was inside, but he said that these orbs were actually the seed. Quite the oddity in the world of plants! He advised sowing the seed on the surface of soil or potting substrate, pressed in firm so that they have good contact with the media but can still get light. Later, I would read in Norman Deno’s Seed Germination Theory and Practice that the seed are photosynthetic and perceive light for germination. This year was the first that one of Greg’s progeny bloomed. It’s been at least five years since I sowed them.
They are a test in patience as plants will take years before flowering. But, they are well worth the wait. And, perhaps in another wet, cool July years from now the seed I’m collecting this season will bloom and keep this beautiful cycle going.