Almost a year ago, I wrote the following words about a lily named ‘Anastasia’:
“I could have lain below these blooms for hours, the perfection of their form so mesmerizing, their scent so intoxicating. A Siren on a stem, but without the rocky shore.”
Today, she bloomed in my garden. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so eager for an arrival as I was for dear Ani. Even barely opened, she is breathtaking in her sheer perfection.