July 23: Camden Daylily Garden

Here's how Susan Shaw advertised today's Camden Daylily Open Garden at her house around the corner: "Where can you find the Loch Ness Monster and a Laughing Giraffe at the same place, same time? Your Dream Lover? Would you like a Pathway to Peace?" Names of things have always captivated me. Those of day lilies are sheer poetry:

Strawberry Fields Forever
Age of Aquarius
Wrapped in Gold
Angel's Sigh
Band of Gypsies
Polynesian Love Song
Fire Agate
Cosmic Struggle
Exclusively Subversive
Wineberry Candy
Forestlake Ragamuffin
Velvet Widow
Hush Little Baby
Lemon Cream Truffle
Blueberry Breakfast
Jurassic Butterfly
Love Over Gold
Wisest of Wizards
Pinch of Lavender
Bowl of Cherries

And the range of colors! Words cannot do these flowers--or this garden--justice. So here are some pictures (with apologies for the poor formatting; I can't figure out how to place photos where I want them in this program):

Blueberry Breakfast

Cosmic Struggle

Fire Agate

Pinch of Lavender

Wineberry Candy

Their names are poems,
but words can't convey lilies'
glorious colors.

July 10: Remnants of the Past

One of the reasons why I was hurrying down Old County Road this afternoon was to get to Port Clyde to catch a boat. The other reason was because I was passing the Rockland landfill, a strikingly odiferous zone. That strange stretch of road also features several creepy limestone quarries filled with opaque dark water (that more than one car has ended up in), a few houses whose residents hopefully have no sense of smell, some ATV trail crossings, and all that's left of what must once have been several farmhouses: well-spaced clumps of lilac bushes, honeysuckles, purple phlox, and big patches of day lilies that once graced some long-gone dooryards. One patch of lilies so abounded with big orange blooms that if it hadn't been for the smell, I might have even paused to take a photo.

Near the smelly dump,
explosion of day lilies.
This was once a farm.

July 6: Embers of Vesuvius

On this sweltering day it seems only appropriate that my favorite (cultivated) day lily, the beautifully named Embers of Vesuvius, is erupting into bloom in our front yard. My husband and I chose this rich orange flower from among the many offerings at Sue Shaw's famous day lily garden in Camden in part because of its color, but mostly because of its irresistible, poetic name. (For the same reasons, we also have a two-toned pink lily named Strawberry Candy that looks good enough to eat.) So it always makes us happy when we see that fiery glow amid the garden's greenery each summer. The petals itself are a bit over-sized, creating a fire-breathing monster of a lily that's as hot and orange as the Dutch World Cup soccer team. (Hup Holland Hup! With all my Dutch in-laws, I was very excited when the Netherlands made it into the finals today.)

An Italian heat.
Embers of Vesuvius
flicker in the yard.