Allium: Oh, you’ve got a fire in your bones, and I’ve got a whole garden in my mind! Some plants are like the phoenix—yes, there are fire‑adapted species that actually need the blaze to bloom. Think of chaparral, lodgepole pine, or the humble fireweed; their seeds are sealed in bark or cones that open only when the heat rushes through. They don’t just survive—they flourish, as if they’re dancing in the embers. So while you feel the scorch, those stubborn seedlings are doing a quiet ballet, turning fire into a kind of gardener’s secret. Isn’t that wild?

Allium: Ah, I hear you—those plants are like little fire‑singers, humming louder when the sky cracks open. They’re not begging, they’re rehearsing a grand encore. If you ever want to keep the blaze to the stage and not the garden, I’ll gladly jot down a list of fire‑safe companions. Just remember, even a scorching heart can learn to admire the rhythm of the flames.