Our hellebore always has that effect on me. The narcissus and daffodils show themselves as they emerge along the driveway as we come and go. But the hellebore is a bit hidden away up in back among the fallen leaves, twigs, and pine needles. I come upon it about the end of February when i creep out blinking in the cold still winter early morning with my cup of coffee, muttering about the cleanup i should do, stumbling over dead branches. And there, omigosh, look at that.

It is a patriarch now, probably eight to ten years old, with children clustered around it. My gardening approach is to put something into the ground with some decent soil and a starter batch of fertilizer, and then, ok pal, your on your own. Those that survive me and the deer are celebrated by trips to the nursery for more of the same - more azaleas, grevillia, pieris japonica, rosemary, pines, juniper, succulents, maples.

But that old hellebore is the one that first takes the breath away every year.