Spring on Pause

Mar24

You may have heard that a bit of chilly weather has rolled across North America. Our lowest low of the last few days has been just five degrees below average, but after months of non-winter it feels downright arctic. I even put the winter coat on for yesterday’s garden stroll!

The front border is beginning to come to life. ‘Tweety Bird’ is my earliest (and dare I say favorite?) daffodil and has never flinched due to cold or ice or snow.

Yesterday was a complete wash out with about two inches of rain filling my rain gauges (aka work buckets which litter the garden) and now it’s all locked in cold. For the last four nights I’ve even returned the pots of rosemary and dracaena back to the safety of the garage, and put off evicting the hardy cyclamen from the winter garden, but the pansies I planted out are on their own. Right now they’re face down in the frozen dirt, but by late afternoon I expect to see their cheery faces again. If not, I’m sure they’ll send up new blooms and that should ease any guilt I might have over not bothering to cover up and protect these little greenhouse divas at all.

Upward facing blooms on a hellebore are nice, but the cold rains of spring are a good reason to hang low and protect your pollen. These are also kissing the dirt right now, limp until the freezing weather passes.

Although we didn’t need another foot or two of rain it has been good for the transplants. Maybe even a little too good since I noticed a few leaning spruce and tilted hazels, but a quick stomp of the foot should rectify that and the water also helps since I didn’t water anything when they were moved since they’re all nice and dormant and the ground is wet enough. I had planned to spend the entire month moving snowdrops, but these woody plants were calling, and if I can make these moves quickly hopefully they can work out the transplant shock somewhat in the last few weeks before leafing out and pushing new growth. Maybe next week the snowdrops will have a chance… unless concrete calls and I finally work on the deck steps…

Snowdrops are fading and the next wave of spring bloomers are on their way.

Whatever happens, this is also the time of year when between jobs I question the number of other bulbs in need of moving and dividing. Actually I sometimes just question the number of bulbs here. Dividing and moving requires a spot to move things to and at the moment I’m at a loss. There’s already a new colchicum bed for divided colchicums, there’s a new tulip bed for moved tulips, and nearly every other somewhat-appropriate ground location has a few snowdrops growing there. Hmmmm.

The “vegetables only” policy for the potager did not age well. Four years later and there are a few garlic sprouts in the closest bed, but everything else is more flower than edible…

I of course am innocent in all this. One new allium and two new snowdrops came home with me from the Gala this spring. Last autumn only a “few” new snowdrops went in the ground, and seriously how big is one snowdrop? I didn’t buy a single daffodil or tulip. I am a victim.

I bet you also know that people who claim persecution and innocence most loudly are not and I think I’ll stop right there. If it gets warmer soon enough maybe I’ll spread a six inch clump of snowdrops into a four foot patch, or maybe take another dozen coleus cuttings in the winter garden, regardless of where things end up here I hope your Sunday goes well and you have an excellent week 😉

A Little Weird

Mar13

It’s barely past the first week of March and spring is in full force and normally I’d be exploding with snowdrop excitement but I think all the rain has literally put a damper on it. Snowdrops which should be perfect are waterlogged and beaten, and the warm rain has them opening when they shouldn’t. There were maybe two beautiful days mixed in there, but both coincided with late days at work, and now with a few more approaching I of course have to stay late again. Let me reiterate my plea for millions in snowdrop-admiring grant money if there is such a thing, or perhaps just throw money at me to stay home and garden… although if you can just add a few dollars for a retirement plan and health insurance that would be nice as well.

The un-droplike galanthus ‘Octopussy’. Better care would likely produce a neater, more robust plant but regardless, I still like the weird, green-tipped blooms.

So just keep me in mind if you have a few million laying around without a purpose. My snowdrops could have used the cover of some fancy glass cloches in all the rain, but instead there I was buying pizza and wings for not only my own kids but random friends and girlfriends who showed up, and that really doesn’t help the plant budget.

Returning for another year, the weird ‘spiky’ snowdrop, galanthus ‘Narwhal’ is even more unusual in that he hasn’t died in solidarity with most of the other weirder types. Even with ‘Polar Bear’ planted nearby he’s unafraid and throwing caution to the wind.

I suppose I’ll get over the rained out season. Eventually. In the meantime I’m excited by the possibility the drops might get some attention in the way of care and tending this spring, rather than the usual good intentions and aimless shuffling and looking. If the soil dries someday (although I see another inch of rain in the forecast) things will be up for division and replanting, and I’ve already top-dressed a few singletons with compost this past weekend before the latest deluge rolled in.

Another good grower for me is galanthus ‘Starling’ which is on the milder side of weird yet still odd to consider as a snowdrop. The large flowers make a nice show as they’re held out horizontally at first and then begin to hang as the bloom ages. I hope it continues to do well here.

The weekend’s deluge lasted all Saturday afternoon. Fortunately I took these photos Friday so had that at least to tide me over.

Not really weird, but galanthus ‘Flocon de Neige’ always looks a bit weird under my care. Well grown plants can be one of the most beautiful snowdrops, but mine always look a bit ‘peaked’, so I’m still working on that.

As I worked through the pictures I guess there are quite a few in bloom and it must just be that I’m more accustomed to them bursting out of the cold ground and looking perfect in the sun rather than a trudging tired from weeks of deciding if it’s time to grow, and then finally making a go of it in the gloom. Like myself I think they prefer sun, even if it’s a cold winter sun which barely melts the frost.

Nearly a traditional snowdrop, galanthus ‘Angelique’ is all white elegance with its extended inner petals.

Okay, so time to stop the complaints. Sunday morning the sun was out for about 20 minutes so I jumped out to enjoy it and then eventually tried to tackle a few things which were do-able in the muck.

‘Galadriel’ is late enough to still be perfect in spite of the weather. She’s one of my favorites and the tall flowers show an elegant line of green on the inners when fully open.

I decided moving trees and shrubs was a priority. Six Serbian spruce were moved from the potager to the other side of the berm slope, and perhaps someday a full wall of evergreens will block the industrial park. A few other shrubs were moved around the yard and some final pruning happened before the snow started falling too furiously.

‘S Arnott’ is still looking nice yet a little tousled from the weather while the double ‘Flore pleno’ behind him is still going strong. I mention this only to fuel the fight between myself and my friend Kathy as to which is the better landscape drop.

Luckily I sat down right as the bulk of the snow started falling. It’s much easier to shake off snow rather than clean another seat off for the next rest break, so that worked out well. Also what worked out well was doing this in the backyard rather than the front since yet again I was the only one out there gardening in the snow and I can be much less self-conscious about it when fewer people can see me.

About a week ago, after announcing the arrival of spring, several of the hardiest plants came out again after spending winter inside the garage.

While I sat out there in the snow waiting for someone to yell at me to get back inside the house what’s wrong with you you’re sitting out in a snowstorm I considered the plants which I had already taken out of the garage and placed outside for the year.

As the snowdrops fade the hellebores step up. These seedlings should really be looked over and thinned out, but I can’t help but find good in each bloom…

The thinking only lasted about ten minutes before the work involved in dragging things like geraniums and dracaenea and amaryllis back helped make up my mind. I chose the ‘easy come, easy go’ option. They’re near the foundation, the lows should only drop to 30-31F and as you know I have too many plants. Fortunately a brief review the next day didn’t show any damage so I guess I’m relieved?

The sun finally made an appearance after the first snow squall rolled through.

So that’s about where we’re at. Spring was here, it rained, it rained, it snowed, it got cold, and now for the next few days it’s quite warm. The first daffodils opened, a nice one called ‘Snow Baby’, but this early one also doesn’t like warmth and will likely fade quickly while other sturdier types take over. That should happen tomorrow. The first ‘Tete-a-Tete’ is hours from opening and by the end of the week there should be masses of corydalis, bunches of hellebores, and a good amount of daffodils taking over. I’m sure I’ll be out there.

Narcissus ‘Snow Baby’ aka ‘Ice Baby’ with an appropriate background. The pale yellow will fade to white within another day or two.

This rapid progression sometimes bothers me since the crocus will likely start and end within a week, but the pace brings something new on every day and that’s kinda fun as well. It’s just weird starting a post with a cold drizzle, witnessing a blustery snowstorm, and then finishing with warm sunny days.

The spring snowflakes (Leucojum vernum) always follow on the heels of the snowdrop season, and perhaps next spring I’ll be quick enough to get some good pictures of the newer plantings.

I actually planted pansies today. An excuse presented itself and before I could overthink the idea I found myself at a nursery filled with fresh pansies and perennials and (still tiny) annuals. They were closing soon, I buy more when I’m rushed 😉

Enjoy the rest of the week, and I hope you’re also seeing some sun, warmer weather, and signs of spring!

And Then it Was Over

Mar9

So it’s raining again and it’s been raining and there’s more rain in the forecast. It’s warm, well maybe not brutally warm but at least unusually warm for March, and things are sprouting all over. Snowdrops are in bloom and won’t last long with all this going on, and the Galanthus Gala is over for another year. Just so you’re prepared, this promises to be a lukewarm post, kind of like going back to work after New Year’s and Christmas have passed and you’re completely in holiday mode yet it’s over and you’re back to waking to the alarm clock rather than to excitement for the day. I’ll try to rekindle the excitement just for this post, and perhaps tomorrow will be a drier, cheerier, snowdrop-filled day!

‘Augustus’ in the bright, deliciously warm sunshine of Paula Squitiere’s garden. Almost too sunny for photos, but too much sun is absolutely not a complaint!

Great highs are often followed by a lull and I believe it’s hitting me. I had an excellent time, and to make it even more excellent we rolled together Snowdropping ’24 wand Gala ’24 all into a single two day event of snowdrop-overload. Sadly I don’t have any decent pictures of the morning and the hours spent touring my friend Paula’s garden, or the visit to the still dormant (yet showing great promise) Bondville Mill Park, but I did click a few photos at the afternoon destination. I hope you don’t mind me re-living the day 😉

The Cyclamen coum were at their absolute peak when we visited the greenhouses of John Lonsdale’s Edgewood Gardens.

I’ve been to Edgewood Gardens a few times before but there’s always something new, and for this visit it was the Cyclamen coum and hellebores, both at their peak. They were amazing. If the seedlings weren’t already all destined for the Gala sales tables I could have really done some damage to my wallet, so as a plan B, I convinced myself that I could replicate this at my own place by sowing plenty of seed this summer and waiting a couple years and…. well I can at least imagine being able to replicate 🙂

Dr Lonsdale on the right, Timothy Calkins to the left. John is no doubt extolling the virtues of his newly named Cylamen coum ‘Sophie’ strain, it’s the pool of heavy-blooming, dark purple plants at the corner of the bench.

Another vision which I will not even imagine replicating were the clumps of Christmas rose (Helleborus niger) which were in peak flower throughout the gardens. Some had already been blooming for months, but the main show had come on in the last few weeks. Of course they were all of a large-flowered strain, some fading to pink tones, some variegated, and even a double, and all amazing. They were thriving and most had seeded in on their own and of course I didn’t bring up that I’ve killed these plants three times already and the fourth was likely thinking about dying as well… but with eternal optimism I know there will be a fifth try. How could I not be with visions like this!?

Helleborus niger scattered about in the beds of Edgewood Gardens.

Besides dozens and dozens of H. niger there were many other species and crosses of Hellebore. One which I have yet to try killing is the H. thibetanus which has also clumped up and sown around. Unlike many of the other evergreen hellebores, H. thibetanus is one which goes fully dormant for the summer and seems to be a little more critical of growing conditions not entirely to its liking. Maybe if I can ever stop killing off the cute little H. niger seedlings I’ll give this trickier one a try.

More H. niger with H. thibetanus behind. They were quite nice…

Oh and other hellebores. Fancier species and hybrids fill the lower slope but even the commoners which fill the upper portion of the hillside were nothing to complain about. Hmmm. There’s a slope behind our house going down to the industrial park. Native plants might be ideal, but thousands of hellebores? That might also be a nice option.

Hundreds of self-sown hellebore at Edgewood Gardens. With other treasures galore these plants are a little more prolific than one might like, but in bloom it’s an excellent sight.

Besides the show stoppers there were thousands of other things coming along such as peonies, trillium, trout lilies, hepaticas, snowdrops, winter aconite, corydalis… even the paths were peppered with treasures.

This bunch of full-bloom troutlily surely ended up in every visitor’s camera roll. It was perfect. Erythronium caucasicum for those who need to know these things.

So Friday was a great pre-game. A day filled with thousands of snowdrops, multiple gardens, beautiful weather, and then an evening of great food, friends, and the first Gala talk (an online presentation) covering the work of Nancy Goodwin and her amazing Montrose Gardens. I was now all set to tackle the Galanthus Gala the next morning.

As the crowds gather outside, David Culp and Andy Schenk work out last minute strategy. Hellebores fill the sales tables and Gerald Simcoe’s Gala display graces the center of the space.

This year I offered to carry a box and thereby managed to sneak in past the crowds. Quite a slick move if you ask me but once my box carrying skills were revealed I ended up with a bunch of other tasks which almost interfered with my scoping out the sales tables before the opening bell rung. It was worth it though. When the doors opened and the crowd swarmed in I had the chance to see the excitement first hand. Excitement and also a good bit of crazy in some of those eyes. You would be wise not to put yourself between some of the more determined shoppers and the target of their obsessions, and as always it’s a relief to know that in some crowds I can still come off as somewhat not-completely plant obsessed.

About 45 minutes in and the rush has subsided enough to get a picture.

The rest of the day was filled with additional talks, more plant browsing, meeting up with friends, more plant browsing, braving the rain, more plant browsing….

Matthew Bricker and his table-full of perfectly blooming snowdrops. The plants look fresh, Matthew looks fresh and then the crowds came. By the end of the day a total of four pots remained, and I was still considering taking ‘Sentinel’ home and making it three.

In all it was a great trip and event and of course I’ll be there again next year, and maybe then I’ll make a stronger effort to be more social, since for some reason I felt a little talked-out by lunchtime. Maybe carrying a jar of Nutella to boost my energy throughout the day is a good plan since being talked-out is no excuse on a once a year chance to swim through the biggest pool of snowdrop nuts in the US, and a full year is a long time to wait when an opportunity is lost.

Thanks of course to all the organizers and planners who put so much time and effort into getting this together each year. I can only imagine since to me it always seems to go off without a hitch and I’m sure in reality there are quite a few bumps along the way. All the best until next year!

Gala Countdown

Mar1

Just one more day and David Culp’s Galanthus Gala is a go and of course I’m ready. Early entry to the hall on Saturday and in person attendance at the talks has been sold out for a couple weeks, but after 10am anyone can stroll in to shop the sales tables, and there’s also a virtual option for the talks. If you’re in the mood and can make it to Downingtown Pa I’d say go for it! There is nothing similar anywhere else in the US, and the range of rare and special things for sale under one roof will be unparalleled.

The most common double snowdrop, Galanthus flore pleno.

Rare and special is great, but let me take a minute to go on about the most common snowdrop cultivar out there. First I apologize to everyone (including myself) who are excited about the latest and greatest, but the double version of the common snowdrop (G. nivalis) really does earn its keep and its place in just about any snowdrop garden. Flore pleno doesn’t complain much as long as you remember it’s a little piglet who likes a nice mulch, fertile soil, and eventually division since it does tend to clump up quickly and will overcrowd if neglected. It’s also sterile, not that it matters much, but when you consider how widespread it is via stray bulblets and sharing that’s quite impressive, plus sterile flowers tend to stay in bloom longer and don’t spend energy on seeds, so that’s another reason it consistently puts on a good show. My friend Paula states it’s the best snowdrop for filling beds with bloom, and I agree.

Flore pleno, the double snowdrop, in one of the damper parts of the garden.

Ten years ago, Paula gave me my Flore pleno start with a little baggie of about 25 freshly dug bulbs, and over just a few years they’ve grown into hundreds. Their original spot was too dry and bare and the bulbs barely bloomed, but once moved into a more woodland setting they exploded. I’m really beginning to like their “messy” and “common” look, and for a while dedicated an entire bed to Flore pleno and her related forms. I named it my ‘White Trash’ bed and and it’s everything special even when they’re not that special.

An unamed, common Galanthus elwesii. I have a few like this and love how they always look surprised and confused.

I’m sure you’d guess that many parts of my garden are filled with things which are not that special. I’ll be excited to consider expensive little things in tiny pots this weekend but even the premier ones which I bring home are destined to share their new bed-space with the peasantry. By the way the peasants in the front street border are multiplying with abandon, and each year I’m closer to sweeps of self-seeding winter aconite and snowdrops. In just a few more years even the most refined eye may have to acknowledge their enthusiastic masses.

I need more witch hazel. Two were lost when the bulldozers came through and how can I have snowdrops and winter aconite without an overstory of flowering witch hazel?

Okay, I have to admit that even with this talk of a love for the most common I did fall for plenty of special snowdrops which were more special because they had a name. Today I realize they all kinda look alike but I still can’t honestly say I regret adding them to the garden or that I’d do things differently. Each is its own treasure (says no one other than a snowdrop-nut) and many have their own story which comes to mind when they sprout each spring.

Galanthus ‘Robin Hood’ is an old variety which may date to the 1800’s and is not the latest and greatest but is quite nice anyway.

But it’s late and stories always go on, so let’s wrap up this pre-Gala post.

Probably only about 100 years old as a cultivar, ‘John Gray’ is still sought out and planted. He’s a stretcher here and I think would display better on a slope but who knows when that move will happen.

I’m sure I’ll add a few things. I always do and it has started to become obvious when you look at the beds.

‘The Wizard’ is a nice tall, more recent introduction, with nice green marks on the outers and even a little touch of green up top. I like him.

…unless you visit ‘Norfolk Blonde’. She just sulks, special or not.

Another year of choosing life, ‘Norfolk Blonde’ has even flowered again this spring. A better gardener would have moved her to a better spot years ago, or at least cleared her some breathing room, but no. I actually enjoy complaining about her 🙂

Did I mention that common or not, the season is early? Probably, and things are about ready to peak even though just by a leap it’s still February. Nearly everything has been convinced it’s time to come up and I guess they’re on to something. After tonight’s cold I don’t even see a single night below freezing for the entire first half of March, and that’s crazy. Quite a few 50’s and 60’s sit in the forecast and I suspect this will rush the season ahead even more.

‘Merlin’ in front backed by ‘Mrs Backhouse #12’, two very common and not-cutting edge snowdrop varieties.

And here we are, finishing up just before bedtime. As always I apologize for the rambling and nonsense but maybe for just one year I can remember to take a few pictures worth posting from the Gala. Maybe. They’re all likely to be plant photos, but I’ll try to remember some readers are also interested in people and perhaps I can accommodate. Just don’t tell my family, sometimes they mention how many plant photos I have and how few birthday, Christmas, etc there are and I don’t think adding pictures of random, non-family plant people will help the debate.

sorta like suburbia

more than you ever wanted to know about my garden

Monthly Archives: March 2024

Spring on Pause

A Little Weird

And Then it Was Over

Gala Countdown