There is something about autumn crocus that induces amnesia. I know where I planted the bulbs of the blue and white-flowered Crocus speciosus and Crocus speciosus ‘Albus’ this year, but I have completely forgotten where I installed crocuses in previous years. This only happens with the fall-blooming kind. I can tell you where all the spring crocuses live, even though it has been months since the last of their grassy foliage died away.
Fortunately I can stand this kind of amnesia. The forgotten fall bloomers spring up like annual surprises and, though they don’t increase the way the spring crocuses do, their numbers are growing slowly. It’s a small miracle to discover one or two as I rake leaves or yank out the five hundredth perilla mint stalk. The crocuses, which cannot be anything but cheerful, take the edge off the idea of the fast approaching frosty nights and gray days.