How truly unassuming it is. The flower that bloomed and withered in front of my house every year must have been the Lycoris radiata. I would forget about it throughout the winter, but when spring arrived, leaves would suddenly sprout up, as if announcing its presence. Then, when I looked again, the leaves had all fallen, only for a flower stalk to rise quite large around autumn and bloom. It must have been that flower with the legend that it blooms but does not bear fruit, and because the