The many lovely faces of our calla lilies

We are blessed to have beautiful flowers growing in our garden, including roses, fuchsia, rhododendrons and camellias. Every year at this time, thanks to the Bay Area's moderate winter climate, our lovely calla lilies come alive, too.

Quietly, these majestic perennial flowers go about their business of blooming on the quiet, east side of our house. As February reached its midway point last week on Valentine's Day, we had four calla lilies in bloom. By spring, that figure will quadruple. Our thriving calla lilies will be with us until the start of summer.

What we commonly know as a calla lily ~ its more formal name is zantedeschia aethiopica ~ is a species in the family Araceae, which is native to southern Africa in Lesotho, South Africa and Swaziland. In the language of Afrikaans, a calla lily is known as "varkoor" meaning pig's ear.

The calla lily is the national flower of the island nation of Saint Helena, and its showy pure white spathe and yellow spadix have been cultivated for the Easter floral trade over the past century. In Britain and Ireland, it is known as the "Easter lily" and, since the Easter uprising of 1916, it became an important symbol of Irish Republicanism.

Over the years, I have enjoyed photographing our calla lilies; each flower seems to have its own individual shape and personality. Because calla lilies can represent both happy and sad occasions, I've used my photographs of them to represent not only the purity of a wedding but also as a condolence to a friend who just lost a parent. The beauty and attractiveness of calla lilies enable them to be used both in wedding bouquets and in funeral arrangements.

The American artist Georgia O'Keeffe brought the calla lily to life through her close-up paintings of single calla lily flowers in the 1920s and 1930s that were both sensual and geometric. Well known as the "lady of the lilies," she once remarked, "What is my experience of the flower if not color?"

Indeed, the calla lilies are in bloom, again.

All photographs by Michael Dickens, copyright 2013. All rights reserved.

The pleasure of our gardens, part 14

Calla lily / Our first bloom of  the season

One of the many joys of living in northern California is gardening year-round, including winter.  With daytime temperatures reaching the mid-60s last weekend, my wife and I took advantage of the opportunity to get outside and catch up on some overdue yard work and to spend some quality time in our gardens.

We have been waiting what seems an eternity ~ actually a couple of months ~ for a warm, dry weekend.  Because the sun doesn't always shine on cue, we've endured many weekends of rainy and often-chilly temperatures. Certainly, it doesn't measure up that what many of my friends across the country in the East and Midwest have endured:  namely, sub-freezing temperatures and snowy blizzards.  But, we do get spoiled by our moderate, year-round climate.

Our fuchsia / A colorful edition to our front yard

So, with sunny skies aplenty on Saturday afternoon, I mowed and edged the lawn and pulled some weeds, while my wife trimmed back branches to several of our rose bushes; pruning them will come soon.  Then, it was time to take stock of what all of the winter rain has meant to our garden:  Our camellia bush, which has been blooming consistently since November, still has several blooms; ditto for our azalea.  Meanwhile, our fuchsia has enjoyed quality growth thanks to the abundance of rain this season.

Our camellia bush / Late season bloomer

Finally, the first of our calla lilies, which reside on the cool and shady east side of our house, is about a week away from opening its spathe (the part of the lily that is white and shaped like the bell of a trumpet).

Each of our plants has its own growth cycle during the year. Luckily, there is always something in bloom.

The pleasure of our gardens, part 13

Less than a week after wearing shorts and enjoying a string of unusually nice, mid-autumn Bay Area days  ~ full of sunshine and temperatures in the middle seventies ~ the start of another rainy season arrived.  Cue up the irritation and annoyance.

On Sunday, we received about 1.2 inches of precipitation, beneficial to the well-being of our flowers and plants as well as to our area reservoirs.  Unfortunately, the weekend's rain wasn't so good for getting out to do any constructive gardening. It did allow us to catch up on some comedies and dramas idly waiting for us in our television's DVR.  So, I guess the day wasn't a total wash.  Still ...

First Prize roses / enjoying mid-autumn sunshine

Although our Bay Area rain isn't nearly as enduring (although maybe it's endearing) as it is for our friends in Seattle, the weather has started turning cold and dreary as winter approaches.  Lately, the mercury has dipped into the low forties overnight ~ prompting us to fire up our space heater in the evening and overnight ~ and our daytime highs have settled down into the low-to-middle sixties since last week's warmer fortunes.  A month from now, as the days continue getting shorter, I'm sure our lowest lows will drop into the thirties and our highest highs will only reach the fifties.

Fuchsia / purplish-red and thriving, rain or shine

Thanks to the recent rain and occasional afternoon sunshine, our camellias and rhododendrons are still nicely blooming as well as the purplish-red fuchsia plant in our front yard.  Rain or shine, our fuchsia reacts equally well.  Plus, our little azalea bush, which blooms periodically throughout the year, is once again active.  Meanwhile, some of the rose bushes in our backyard ~ our First Prize and Mr. Lincoln roses come to mind ~ continue thriving.

Mr. Lincoln rose / bright and open-minded

Our weather be damned.

All photos by Michael Dickens, copyright 2010.

The pleasure of our gardens, part 12

On Thursday morning, I had just finished taking out the last of the garbage and recycling for that day's pickup and was walking back up the driveway.  I waved at my neighbor across the cul-de-sac who was outside watering her plants.  The time was 8:25 a.m.  It was then that I experienced an "ah-ha" moment. I knew I needed to grab my camera and act fast.  It was too good of a moment not to photograph our roses.

Within two minutes, I was back on the driveway, poised but excited, the sound of the shutter clicking away as I snapped photographs of our roses.  My neighbor stopped what she was doing and, for a moment, observed me taking pictures of our Queen Elizabeth roses.  She understood my "ah-ha" moment and offered me encouragement.

I had observed the interesting way in which the sun peeked through the early morning clouds, reflecting nicely off of the roses, and the swiftness in which the clouds danced across the Bay Area sky overhead.  I wanted to capture my "ah-ha" moment for the ages and share it with others.

This photograph represents the best of the bunch I took of our Queen Elizabeth roses.  I stood facing east and crouched, shooting upward to capture the clouds as a backdrop to the roses, which were at the tip of a six-foot-high vine.  In doing so, it's just the simple enjoyment of nature ~ and the pleasure of our gardens ~ at the right moment of time.

Queen Elizabeth roses
Photographed on Thursday, Oct. 14
 8:27 a.m. PDT