In the fall of 2009 I planted some spring flowering bulbs. This included Dutch iris, crocus, winter aconite and snowdrops. The first two springs, 2010 and 2011, I never saw the winter aconite nor the snowdrops bloom. I did notice some foliage come out that had no flowers associated with it but it was simply a blip on my anomaly screen and soon forgotten.
So when I saw a yellow flower this spring of 2012 I assumed it was one of the the same crocus that had been coming out the past couple of years so I blogged the crocus had bloomed. When the snowdrops followed a couple of days later I came to the erroneous conclusion that a crocus had come before the snowdrops, which were making their first appearance in bloom this year. I was happy to see the snowdrops because I hadpreviously written them off as a failure.
First hint I was making an error should have been the color, as crocus tend to be various shades of purple, though not always as seen in the photo below.
Not remembering specifically but based on normal parameters I apply to horticultural decision making, it was reasonable to assume I got a mixture of crocus that would have included some yellow.
Still, that it came before the snowdrops bothered me so this morning I went out and looked at the rock bed where the bulbs had bloomed. Sure enough, looking closely at the foliage, it was obvious that what had bloomed, after its third winter, was winter aconite. Note the broad glossy foliage contrasted with the narrow strap like leaves of the crocus with a white stripe in the middle.
Looking back at the pictures in my previous post isn’t relevant because rather than take a photo of the blooming bulb itself, I had simply grabbed an image off the web.
Had I taken the trouble to take an actual picture, I may have noticed the foliage was not that of a crocus, but I cut the corner. So rack up another error, merely the latest in what seems like at times an endless stream of them.
When I used to play and coach soccer, I would say that only way to not make errors is to sit in the bleachers and watch. Which doesn’t make making mistakes any more fun, but at least their inevitability is easier to swallow. IF I find myself not making mistakes, I will know that I must be almost dead, or so close to it I am not even trying anything anymore.