I suspect cockscomb is more a late summer flower than a fall flower, but my sister picked this for me last week.
Isn’t it strange looking in all its hairy fuzziness? In its assymetry and wiggly lines? I almost expect it to move, gently swaying side to side like a sea anemone I once saw on t.v.
An elderly lady had this cockscomb growing in her yard. My sister, being my sister, saw them as she was driving by and stopped to ask the lady if she could buy the seeds. The elderly lady gave my sister fresh cuttings from the cockscomb, cockscomb seeds, seeds for other flowers she had growing and no telling what else. Maybe even her kitchen sink. My sister is a likeable lady.
I would never, never stop at a stranger’s house and just open a conversation with them about their landscaping or home design. I break out in a cold sweat and my heart starts to pound just thinking about it. But because my sister doesn’t share this personality flaw (and has more than a dash of boldness), and because the elderly lady is so generous, I have enjoyed this crimson beauty all week.
And come spring, I might even plant some seeds. If I don’t manage to kill them, maybe I will have something gorgeous to share with someone else. The way a stranger shared with my sister and my sister shared with me.