Of all my daylilies, the plain old orange ones are my favorite. They’re not the most striking or frilly, but they’re the ones that watch over the garden with me, the ones I measure the year by.
They first sprout through the snow in late winter to assure me that the rest of the garden stirs below.
Undaunted by weather, they grow boldly in the bare spring beds and beckon the other plants to be as brave.
By May, their graceful leaves arch over the border, and they pause for a moment while the rest of the garden bursts forth.
Their slender stems nod with fat buds, and when the first orange blossom opens to the sun, summer is begun.
They bloom and bloom, day after day, each flower giving its all, as if only there were enough of them, they could make summer last forever.
And when the days are spent and but a few blooms remain—today there are merely six—I know summer is winding down, even though I can’t feel it in the air yet.
Soon the green will recede from the stalks back into the earth, the sun will sink lower in the sky, and the garden will begin to fade.
The leaves will yellow and lack the will to stand, and summer will become fall and time for divisions and planting bulbs.
Eventually, the leaves will turn to paper and pull away in clumps in my hand as the days darken and the rains return, and then it will be time to put the garden to rest—until the orange daylilies greet me through the snow and we begin another year together.
I also have a plain orange daylily as the sentry to a garden entrance. Love your photos, found you via Blotanical!
“Garden sentry” — I can see that. Nice image.
While the oranges are not my favorites, I can see that yours are. The words you used to describe them are pure poetry born of love, and that makes for a mighty nice blog entry. And by the way, the yellow squash is on again tonight. Come on over.
What a lovely post, Kelly! None in my garden but I LOVE seeing these in huge clumps along road sides.
They remind me of growing up on a dirt road in northern Ohio. We had them wild on the roadsides. As a little kid, you looked up at their long necks and bright orange flowers. The aroma was intoxicating.
I love the sun shining through the petals showing the silhouette of the stamen of this lily. Orange and variations of it just make me sigh with contentment. Your words make me do that too! They bring home again the advice… enjoy each day!
Hey Sorry, have you ever been to the daylily farm just west of Rensselaer ? You would love it ! I got a beautiful yellow daylily there two years ago. Can’t remember the name of it but it is still blooming and is georgeous. Grandma Dora had the orange ones also, sounds like the green thumb has been passed on !
Hi, Auntie Shirley. No, I haven’t been to the daylily farm in Rensselaer, but I’ll bet that Lornet and a lot of the other Indiana readers have. I was going to add a link to their Website, but apparently they don’t have one.
I’m glad you mentioned that Grandma Dora (your and my Fa’s mom, for those who don’t know) had orange daylilies. That makes them even more special to me. All I remember from my little-kid days was her having a yard full of flowers, mostly daisies. But, again, I was a little kid and not paying much attention to that kind of thing.
She loved her flowers and had lots of them. She could cut a rose start off of rose bush, put it under a glass canning jar and before you knew it she had her own rose bush started. That just always amazed me ! The hollyhocks were always a favorite of mine too. I think you did good to remember her daisies, little kid !