Actually, there are several different plants called autumn crocus. The true cousins of spring crocuses are in the Iris family. They produce leaves at the same time as their flowers. The flowers are not toxic;  in fact, the three long red stigmas in the center of each purple flower of Crocus sativus are saffron—the most expensive spice in the world.

The flowers I see today are not Crocus, but Colchicum, perhaps C. speciosum or C. autumnale. At any rate, they are in the Lily family and are characterized by their spring leafing and  leafless fall flowering. In Australia they call them “naked ladies.” Be careful! These ladies of autumn are helpful, but can be dangerous as well. They are not edible, although “meadow saffron” is among their common names. The flowers, leaves, and corms contain colchicine, which, used properly, may relieve the pain of gout, but can also cause sickness and death.

The autumn crocus is no less a harbinger of change than its more famous springtime cousins. Just as clusters of gold and purple, peeking through snowmelt, promise winter's imminent end, so pale lavender, spearing up though damp mulch, announces that autumn lurks nearby. Until now, I have not seen the changing of a maple leaf to red or an oak to gold. Until now, I have thought of today's heat and humidity as typical summer weather. But weather is an illusion. The chill of winter underlies the heat, just as the brilliant colors of fall underlie the green chlorophyll in the leaves above me. The year is entering its old age. The earth knows autumn has arrived, and pushes up this first pale purple intimation. I have not seen a leaf turn red or gold, but—in an hour or a day—I will.

Copyright © 2000 by Karen G. Bandy. Exerpted from The Master Gardener, October 2000.