Craigslister: Many Amaryllis bulbs (naked ladies) available. They are going in the dumpster next week.
After a few email exchanges, I found myself in a nondescript neighborhood in Sonoma getting filled on the details of a garden redesign from a lovely older man who was well into a full day working in the garden.
When he moved in 30 years ago, the garden had likely been the perfect (full sun) garden for naked ladies. The garden was now cool and shady, and the hundreds of clumps of bulbs were topped with thick heads of strappy foliage, green and happy in the shelter of the large trees. I was shown a rhododendron that he had just received as a gift, more discussion of changes to come in the garden followed, and he then directed me to back my car in to the garden. We packed the trunk with bulbs, the cool foliage taking up most of the available space. Seeing a few spots left, he asked if I wanted more.
"I don't want to take them all...surely you have other takers?"
"Oh, no, I have plenty. Let me dig you some more."
There were clumps of foliage and bulbs poking their heads out of the soil everywhere. He approached a clump and dug his shovel in deep. He was a small but sturdy man, and he worked around the edges gently as he chatted about his new garden. As I began to inquire about the new garden plans, he interrupted me.
"Shhhh......listen."
He put downward pressure on the shovel, and the bulbs, with their thick heads of foliage, jumped out of the ground with the familiar snap of roots breaking free from the damp soil.
"Aaaaahhhh, there it is...that wonderful sound."