Unbucketing Day

Feb26

Wow. What a difference two days can make. We’ve gone from winter to spring in just a few hours, and even though I won’t officially call spring until the last snow has melted, I’m practically spinning with spring fever over the thought I might see some more snowdrops unlocked from the ice this weekend.

If you’re not sick of seeing ‘Three Ships’ yet, well you might have some of the same issues I’m dealing with. He looks pristine even after weeks and weeks under a 5 gallon bucket.

In case you’re wondering, ‘Unbucketing Day’ is a relatively new holiday which I only just declared this afternoon. I’m sure there’s a more formal process to establishing new holidays, but I did have some cake this afternoon, and I’m pretty sure eating cake is at least steps one through four of the holiday creation process.

‘Potter’s Prelude’ has gone by a bit under his bucket. Even weeks of below freezing temperatures and a few feet of snow can’t stop the passage of time, since he has been in bloom for over three months now.

Fancier folk might call for an uncloching day to celebrate the day when temperatures seem civil enough to uncover these protected goodies, but I resort to buckets. Ugly buckets. I can understand the attraction of antique glass cloches sparkling throughout the garden but they don’t come cheap and I’m not sure anyone here would appreciate such an elevated level of refinement when autumn’s decaying gourds still sit on the front lawn and an old washing machine still highlights the far end of the front porch.

Even ‘Mrs Macnamara’ has tolerated her time under the bucket. This is the best she’s ever looked, but even with protection a few blooms were lost to cold, so I don’t think she’s an ideal match for my garden…

So join me in the celebration. A little warm weather and the snow can’t melt fast enough. There are a few thin spots where ground is showing but most of the garden is still under nearly a foot of icy, packed snow. It’s still enough to get into nearly every inappropriate pair of shoes I wear, since of course I slog through the snow right after work and don’t bother changing into better footwear first. I really just need to be more patient.

The witch hazel is late this year. ‘Pallida’ is only just today warm enough to uncurl the first bits of yellow thread. Hopefully by this weekend….

Who am I kidding? This is no time to be patient. I guarantee by tomorrow afternoon I’ll be shoveling snow off things, poking through mulch, and being far more nosy about my plant’s personal lives than I should be. I’ll probably even plant a few seeds!

Have a wonderful weekend 🙂

I Like Tulips :)

May8

There’s a freeze and awfully cold precipitation on the way, but the sun was out this morning and the tulips in the front border are at their peak. Whatever route the weather takes this Friday I think we’ll be ok… as long as I don’t think too long about all the fresh lily stalks and iris blooms that won’t easily shrug off real cold temperatures.

Out front the tulips are quite nice this year.

Whatever. I have a long established belief that protecting outdoor plants from outdoor weather is a lot of work, and I have an even longer established belief that more work=bad, so if you do that math for that one you can easily see that the plants here won’t be protected. Better to just enjoy the sun and admire tulips.

‘Marit’ is a favorite of mine. There are a lot of favorites, but right now she’s on top.

So I don’t know why the tulips do so well here. Obviously deer and other vermin aren’t a problem, but beyond that they last for years with little attention from me, and I hear it from many others that this is not typical for most gardeners.

Four years ago I planted the ‘Incendiary Mix’ from Van Engelen and they’re still going strong.

Most of the books would say this is probably not a good spot for tulips. The ground is heavy and thin, doesn’t drain well, and all kinds of other things grow over the tulips from June on. I think what they do like is the full sun and the compost and leaves which I (usually) mulch with in early spring. Also it’s fairly open and breezy which keeps moisture from sitting on the plants. The tulips do start to dwindle when they get overcrowded, but… well honestly they usually just end up dwindling… A better gardener would dig and divide when the foliage yellows, but who has time for that!? Plus a new bag of tulips in October really won’t break the bank.

Honestly. I deadheaded daffs and cut the grass, but only after I enjoyed the tulips and took pictures. Here’s the view from the mailbox.

All is not bliss in this tulip world. ‘Tulip fire’ is a fungal disease which is better or worse depending on how wet the spring is. It spots the foliage and scars the flowers, but from ten feet it’s easy enough to ignore. ‘Tulip breaking virus’ is also here, and it shows up as colorful streaks on a normally solid bloom. Three years after first noticing it I’m still hemming and hawing about pulling and tossing the infected bulbs, and as the years pass they still fascinate me too much to destroy.

Tulip breaking virus on a solid orange tulip. I can see why the red and yellow streaks could cause a mania.

Some tulips just carry the genetics for streaking. I’m not sure how one tells the difference, but according to the seller, ‘Spryng Break’ is a genetic sport and not virused, and last fall it was just what I needed to top off a bulk snowdrop order. Actually I didn’t need them at all. At 50 bulbs for $15 I just couldn’t resist.

‘Spryng Break’ fully open, flanking the front porch, and highlighting my beautiful little deadsedge .

I keep coming back to the tulips along the street though. In the backyard digging and moving have not done the tulips well, but out front they are excellent.

A driver actually slowed down the other day and when I looked up to see who it was they said they were just admiring the flowers. Lucky them, if it weren’t for social distancing I would have made them get out and take a tour.

The tulips this year are giving me bad thoughts. The raised bed construction in the potager is nearly complete, and I can’t imagine anyone wanting to use all those beds for just some vegetables that you could easily pick up at the farmer’s market…. without struggling for weeks to fight off bunnies and birds and bugs… so I’m thinking they would make nice tulips beds. Maybe. Just one. Or two. The tulips do need dividing after all.

The Purge

May5

The late daffodils are still rounding out the season, but I can’t wait any longer. While their blooms are still fresh in my mind I’ve gone around and done a daffodil inventory, and then let loose with the first round of narciss-icide. I’m down to a baker’s dozen times ten, which I don’t think is excessive at all. The second assault will start in June, when I dig the crowded clumps and only save as many as I *need* for replanting.

Three more buckets filled. The survivors look nervous, but I told them they were safe for now.

It looks ruthless and sort of is, but when a bulb or two slowly turns into a foot wide, congested clump, something needs to be done. Actually something should have been done a few years ago, but better late than never, right? Let me know if you’re interested in any, I still feel the slightest twinge of guilt tossing perfectly fine daffodils just because.

A happier view of daffodils. ‘Geranium’ in the front border alongside some moneyplant (Lunaria annua’). It was beautiful on Sunday and the flowers glowed.

Now I’ll wait until the foliage begins to yellow, about six weeks after bloom, dig the clumps, dry off the bulbs, hang in mesh bags, and then replant this autumn. Hopefully by then I will still have enough empty spaces to put them all back in to!

Have a great week 🙂

Time For a Few Daffs

Apr22

There was a time when I had a lot of daffodils. I’m working on that. It’s not because a lot of daffodils is a bad thing, it’s because they do need a little care here and there and this gardener has been slacking in that regard. So in an attempt to mend my ways I’ve been culling the herd lately, trying really hard to convince myself that I don’t need hundreds of varieties and that maybe just one hundred might be enough. I have to do it fast and without much thought. No composting either. I tried that with the tulips and it just ended up with tulips everywhere the compost was spread.

‘Williamsburg’ and ‘Red Devon’, two keepers.

My garden just isn’t big enough to do daffodils the way I’d like to do them. I want big clumps full of flowers but how many of those can you fit in without crowding the masses of snowdrops also planned? Something has got to give. When a friend first led me (willingly of course) into the world of yellow fever I thought I’d just try a few to see what I really liked and what did well here, and then just back off… and I suppose that time has come.

‘Curlew’ doing well along the street and ushering in the late season daffodils.

Two endlessly rainy summers and some garden drainage issues helped immeasurably. At least half the clumps out back have disappeared completely, which to me says they were more prone to basal rot anyway… maybe… so no need to replace those. Today I plan to go out, ID a few clumps which have lost their tags, and then shovel prune a few more. Even after starting this process last year I just want to reassure you that I still have and will have plenty.

‘Cassata’ looking exceptionally orange this spring, thanks again to the cool weather.

I find that once they’re gone there are only a few I ever miss. Not a big problem. The other reason gardeners are usually so generous with their plants is for just that reason, a friend can always pass a piece back when you need it.

‘Dress Circle’ is a favorite. It’s always done well here, crowded or not.

So here are a few keepers. They also need digging of course, but I’ll save that for June when they’re dormant and I can divide and replant.

‘Kedron’ has an overall orange tint that I really like. It’s one of the few affordable versions of this color combo.

One of the first “pinks”, ‘Mrs RO Backhouse’ needs some photoshopping these days to keep up with the newer pink varieties, but she’s a keeper anyway and always reminds me of the friend who gifted her to me.

‘Modern Art’ is frillier than I prefer, but my friend Tim just loves all these overdone daffodils so I’ll keep it to show, just in case he ever visits 😉

I think this daffodil is ‘American Heritage’ although it came to me misslabeled. It will look cooler as the cup fades to more of a pink… and also a better spot with better soil and more space won’t hurt either…

An unknown but still loved double daffodil next to ‘Coral Light’. Of course both of these are right in the middle of one of the new yet-to-be raised beds.

‘Montego’ looking nice as the shrubby dogwood ‘Midwinter Fire’ spreads through it. I’d consider digging this one, but the dogwood is all in there and… I would dig it to toss, it’s just too “leafy” for my taste.

… and of course there are two other things I just can’t not share. Primroses are loving the cool wet.

I’m still disproportionately proud of the primula auricula which has yet to be killed. I did grow them from seed after all.

And a first bloom on a purchase from Edgewood gardens. Two years after buying a tiny pot of gravel, the little root inside has developed into an amazing Paeonia daurica. I love it.

Ok, so I already loved the foliage on this when it was smaller, but now that it’s big enough to bloom… even better. I may rip out a hosta or two to make more room for it 🙂

So even with freezing mornings and snow squalls rolling through there’s still plenty to be enjoyed in the garden. Work? Sure. But if this is what I can get by being lazy, imagine how amazing things will look after a little care and attention.

Who am I kidding. Two years of drought or some other new pestilence on the horizon will surely turn everything back on to its other ear and we’ll be back to square one again. It’s a fun distraction though, and I hope this week you’re enjoying your own garden distractions as well. The cold will end.

Sorta Spring

Apr18

If you like a long drawn out spring, this one is for you. So far this season I only complained once about weather that was too warm, and even that was only ‘outdoor gardening without breaking a sweat warm’, which is much cooler than ‘sitting on the porch doing nothing but sipping a cold drink’ warm. There have been no windy blasts of 80-90F weather which wilt the daffodils in hours and skip the garden straight to summer… followed by a freeze which has the gardener throwing his hands in the air… and for that I’m grateful. There was snow though. I started edging and weeding the front border and had to cut it short because of all the snow showers. Not so much for me or the plants, but the neighbors already talk, and as I went in to get a hat I thought I better just call it quits instead.

Making my way down the border. No leaf mulch was drug out of the woods this spring, and holy crap are there a lot of seedlings coming up. It might be easiest to just go with a fennel/verbena bonariensis theme this year.

I didn’t really mind the precipitation, but working out there in the chilly wet and mud makes me think I might as well garden in the UK or Pacific Northwest, and that’s weather for plants and not what a gardener needs. The upcoming forecast shows better weather on the way, so I’m sure the weeds can wait another day or two.

Here’s a question. Dead or alive? The pots for the front walk were dragged back into position and one still contains a bit of one of those trendy brown sedges from New Zealand. ‘Red Rooster’ I think. I didn’t think it would be hardy so assume it died over the winter, but maybe not? It only looks marginally more dead than it did last year, so I’ve left it in place and added some of the extra tulips which I shouldn’t have bought last fall, said I wouldn’t buy, didn’t need, but got anyway.

Dead sedge? Who knows.

After weeks at home, my daughter must be pretty bored since she offered to help with the planting. I was glad for the company. The tulips we planted were supposed to be gifts, but since travel to NY is off for the foreseeable future, these were planted, two were dropped off on local porches, and the rest were dug in by the driveway. It will work out.

The most amazing grape hyacinths (muscari) I’ve ever grown. They look just like any other dime a dozen muscari, but since they were grown from seed (intentionally), they’re super amazing.

For my daughter digging and planting were entertaining, but trying to explain why the seed grown muscari were so much better than the nearly identical muscari which I deadhead and weed out, was pushing the garden thing too far. Even she must know that muscari are cheap and easy to buy and come in nicer forms than these, but c’mon! How cool is it that one of them even has a little white top!?

Maybe I’ll divide out this clump, they seem to have a little more variety, and I’d like to see how the one with the white does on its own.

Of course grape hyacinth from seed is easy, in fact many people complain they’re weedy, but as I go through the garden and divide and transplant I do find a few more special things. My seedlings of the Asian spicebush (Lindera glauca v. salicifolia) are doing well. I’d like to use them as a hedge, but need a few more, and in the meantime have potted these up while they wait for their planting site to happen. They’re still holding onto the dried foliage from last year, a plant habit which I used to hate, but on this plant it just all seems more excellent.

Lindera glauca v. salicifolia seedlings potted up and hopefully ready to spend at least a year under my questionable care.

Transplanting has happened, pruning has happened, bed building has happened, but not much weeding yet. Still in spite of the weedy mess, I just have to show some of my favorite spring iris foliage.

I’ve shown the purple spring foliage of iris x robusta ‘Gerald Darby’ before, but some of the pseudata iris can also put on a show, in this case a bright springtime yellow flush of new leaves. I think the cool weather helps.

I’ve moved on to weeding not because the potager is finished, but because my better half has banned me from running to the store to get the lumber I think I need to finish. The first veggies can still be planted, but I’ll wait until it looks slightly better before sharing another photo. In the meantime if you remember I mentioned one slightly warmer day. That one day encouraged me to sit around in the shade, and while sitting around, the guilt of laziness encouraged me to weed and clean the little moss bed I’m trying to grow. Yes it doesn’t look like much, in fact this is what other people end up when they do nothing, but I of course am pleased.

A bit of moss in a shady corner. Ruined terra cotta and a few tree trimmings to camouflage the drainpipe and I think it looks ok. I wonder if tiny hepaticas could survive here. hmmmmm.

So that’s it from here. I think the cloudy gloom will lift in another few hours and although it’s still a little wet to do anything serious, I’m sure I can find something interesting to “think about” outside. I hope your spring is also going well.

A Few Words

Apr11

We are wrapping up our fourth week here since entering quarantine and the garden is still surprisingly unkempt and disorganized. The gardener likes to suggest it’s because he’s busy double timing as a common core math teacher to a 6th grader, and in spite of holding a minor in Mathematics it’s a daily struggle, but it’s also been pointed out that the gardener spends a lot of time “thinking”, and often that thinking is interpreted as “just sitting around”. Obviously sitting around does not get jobs done.

Chiondoxa continues to spread. These are all clones off a bulb moved years ago, and seem to be waiting for a partner to set seed, but each time weeds are pulled or the gardener thinks the spot is empty and tries to plant something else there, a few bulbs get moved a little further.

The gardener has been thinking the weather has been great, and the gardener has been thinking the sky is bluer than normal, and the gardener has been thinking it’s nice to have time to sit in the springtime sun without some desperate need to get just one spring chore done before dark. But the gardener has also been wondering if there have always been so many snakes in the yard.

One of the garden’s garter snakes reading a snowdrop label. It’s ‘Three Ships’ Mrs Snake.

I do like the snakes. One chilly morning I came across three little balls of snake out in the morning sun and I was surprised. A good surprise though, not the EeeAhhhugh Oh! surprise you get when one of these slithery serpents zips away from your reaching hand or approaching step. I think there’s something primordial in our natural fear of snakes, and I don’t entirely trust a person who just shrugs them off. Pick them up, fine, handle them, fine, you can think your way through that, but when one zips across your path you better jump a little.

The raised beds are coming together in the potager. It’s going to be very neat I suspect. I hope I don’t miss the late summer mayhem of overgrowth and decay, but who’s to say that won’t happen anyway.

It’s been taking forever it seems to get the raised beds built. There are a number of plants to move or pot up, but I really do blame the gardener. Not to dwell on the snakes, but work was called off entirely the other day when rustling in the boxwood hedge turned out to be an inappropriately writhing ball of snake procreation…. with an embarrassingly plural number of participants… it was watched for longer than it should have been, but it was interesting to see and of course if that’s what they need to do amongst the daffodils then lets just call off work for the afternoon to give them some privacy.

The cool days and cooler nights are bringing out the richest colors in many of the narcissus clumps. Here’s the daffodil ‘Glaston’, looking luscious and tropical with its fruity cup colors.

So rather than work hard, the gardener looks at daffodils.

Daffodil ‘Beersheba’, a pre 1923 daffodil (according to Daffseek) and nearly 100 years later, still a wonderful thing to have flowering.

Honestly the daffodils here have been tortured by poor drainage and neglect recently, and the show is not nearly as impressive as in other years, but the fewer words on that the better. What does warrant a few more words are the corydalis. They’ve enjoyed the cool weather as well and still look great. Mostly. Rabbits gave most if the ones in back a haircut, so….

Corydalis solida, some named. The pink in front is the highly acclaimed ‘Gunite’, while the darker red in back is ‘Milda’.

I do like poking through all the corydalis seedlings. Some are great and plenty are nice, and there’s not that pressure you get with snowdrops to pick out and consider naming every next great thing. I guess corydalis don’t offer the same wild diversity that snowdrops hold 😉

Even with all the nice seedlings, I’m still willing to try a few new named ones here and there. This new one was described as having exquisite “sky-blue lips and white spurs”… and I suppose that’s possible.

Of course why stop at a good thing? If you can killed expensive named forms, why not try knocking off a few harder to find species? These next two prefer summer-dry, Russian steppe/rocky woodland type environs. The gardener isn’t sure if he should be insulted that the garden contains these types of planting areas, or pleased that the garden has made these happy for a third year, but in any case each spring could easily be their last.

Corydalis schanginii ssp. ainae growing well in the same conditions that favorTaraxacum officinale. Apparently much of my garden is well suited to Taraxacum officinale.

Many gardeners crave blue corydalis. I’ve discovered a knack for killing blue corydalis. It’s kind of silly knack considering how easy blue scilla are, and hyacinths, and grape hyacinths, but if you know a perfectly perfect flower also comes in various blue shades, of course you need that color, and this gardener is no different.

The first blue corydalis to last more than a spring or two (and not look completely miserable while doing it) Corydalis fumariifolia might even be expanding its reach. I could use another clone. Maybe seeds could happen with cross pollination…

Lets get back to easier things. A few words for the front border as daffodil season hits its stride.

Perhaps spring flowers can distract the neighbors from a shoddy cleanup and an un-edged and un-weeded front border. Seriously, what does that gardener even do around here?

As I think on it (there he goes again not really doing anything measurable), the gardener spends way too much time on nonsense. To mention a few words on the front border we could say ‘hyacinths and daffodils are easy and they look great’, but there goes the gardener again poking around and making things complicated. Amongst all the daffodil color he’s most excited to see a few purple leaved moneyplants (Lunaria annua ‘Rosemary Verey’) finally showing a good amount of purple. It was hard yanking the all green seedlings which used to rule, but over the years they are finally as purple as the strain should be.

Those are not weeds, they’re the much anticipated purple leaves of Lunaria annua ‘Rosemary Verey’.

I’ll leave you with even fewer words. Hellebores are up.

A nice picotee yellow seedling.

Another year without a late freeze and they’re all looking good.

‘Golden Lotus’ and ‘Peppermint Ice’ with a mess of less showy things.

Hope this post finds you well. Snow squalls are keeping the gardener inside today so rather than clean the bathrooms he’s blogging, but in spite of that he still gets fed three times a day. Not bad.

A Project For the Pandemic

Mar29

I’m extremely lucky. Both my wife and I are able to work from home, while this health crisis spreads across the land and attacks our healthcare system, and our children are home here with us. Our immediate family can afford to do the same. Only a few of our closer friends are on the front lines as healthcare providers, and the area we live in has yards, streets to walk, and woods to wander. I wish it were the same for everyone.

The first pasqueflower (Pulsatilla vulgaris) opens. I love their furry sweaters and the saturated color the cool weather brings on.

It’s not though, and the beautiful, early spring is a bit surreal alongside the news headlines and overall concern. So we stick to home and the garden.

Blue Scilla siberica and the red tones of Corydalis solida seedlings have officially taken over the front foundation beds.

Working from home frees up about two hours worth of commute each day, and with lunch and breaks it easily adds up to an extra three hours of spare time each weekday. Sometimes I even stretch my lunch a little, but please don’t tell.

The potager is getting raised beds. The old edging is coming out and the new layout is being planned. I have no idea where all the soil to fill raised beds will come from but I’m sure something will work out.

After an ordering fiasco and delivery disaster the wood for the beds has arrived. Normally I’d make a thousand trips to piecemeal and nickel and dime the entire project, but for once I planned a bit and will hopefully have most of what I need. We will see. As projects go it’s fairly simple and straightforward except for two things. (1) The site is not all that level, and (2) Thousands of plants are in the way.

The zucchini and gooseberry bed…. but then underplant the berries with colchicums. Edge the beds with chrysanthemums. Tulips came in with the compost. Daffodils will die down before the zucchini needs room. The rose is so small… oh I need a spot for these snowdrops…

Common sense would say dig it all under and buy a few new bulbs in the fall. This was considered, and then considered again, but of course by Thursday I decided to save as much as I can. How can I dig under tulips just a few weeks away from blooming? Things are now being moved if possible, or just plain potted up with hopes for a miracle in space becoming available.

The front border starting to look less sloppy and more flowery.

The potager is going to be a mess for a while so I’ll leave you off with a view of the front street border. The mowed up debris of last year is starting to become less noticeable as spring bulbs come up green and burst into flower. Surely some good must come of this.

Have a great week, and all the best.

A Down Day

Mar24

I don’t know how non-gardeners do it. Today was a sloppy, sleety, chilly day and after just a few hours of being cooped indoors I’m almost ready to try doing the taxes on my own. We are hunkering down for our second week at home and although the yard doesn’t look much better for it, at least the open air and sunshine was a nice distraction. One day inside and I can’t imagine what the rest of our neighbors do to fill the time. I wonder if they even know the birds are singing and the buds are bursting in spite of the messy weather.

Pussy willow just starting

Things weren’t perfect before, but it was good enough with a coat on and decent mudding shoes, and considering it was still mid March I consider that to be excellent. The sunshine and warmth ended the snowdrops but there’s always more on the way.

The first daffodils are coloring the front beds a springtime gold. ‘Tête à Tête’ in front, ‘Tweety Bird’ towards the street.

Corydalis solida and the first daffodils are leading the next flush, and in spite of the snow they’re a sign of real spring.

‘Tweety Bird’ is my favorite early daffodil. It handles the weather well and I love the form.

Maybe a down day is a good thing. I’ve been pruning, trimming, transplanting, and fixing and after being inside for winter and work, I’m a little short of the normal gardening endurance levels. Nothing a little a dose of Tylenol can’t fix 😉

Corydalis solida ‘Purple Bird’. Many of the named corydalis just abruptly disappear in this garden, but their many seedlings are often just as good (or dare I say better?)

I won’t bore you with the less than impressive transplants and prunings. Most are just balls of mud in new positions which only I will notice, but one thing which may be noticeable is that plans are afoot.

The work never strays far from a convenient rest spot. It’s always good to reflect on any progress.

The plans are the byproduct of too much sitting around and thinking, and when it gets bad the gardener decides change for change’s sake might sound like progress, so giddy up!

So wood has been ordered for the construction of raised beds. Someone here thinks the vegetable component of the potager will be much more productive if the beds are raised… I think planting fewer flowers might help… we will see. In any case I’m sure it will turn into much more work than it should be, and take far longer. That makes sense since it’s already cost more than we’ll ever make back in fresh produce. In any case, have a productive and healthy week!

A New Season

Mar15

Last weekend was David Culp’s Galanthus Gala. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, and the flood of friends and early season plants and rare goodies that filled the Downingtown Friends Meetinghouse were a treat as the new garden season begins to rev up. What a difference a few days makes. I’m sure you see the news so I won’t rehash, but I just want to wish all my friends the best and hope they stay healthy and safe.

Cyclamen coum doing better than ever thanks to the relatively mild winter. Over the last year about half the plantings here disappeared as a result of wet and rot, but this cyclamen is spectacular.

In just a few days spring has arrived and fortunately it’s a white fever which has infected this gardener. Eleven years of planting and tending is finally starting to pay off, and the tiny handfuls of begged bulbs and lonely singletons are becoming puddles and pools. I finally have hope that there will one day be a sheet of snowdrop white in this garden, maybe not a California King sheet, but possibly a twin, and that’s excellent enough for me.

My first handful of snowdrops is up for some more division this year. I believe it’s a nivalis x elwesii cross.

The non-winter has been a new experience, with some things up early and others holding back. Restraint payed off for those who held back, since there were a couple harsh nights in February, but for the most part the garden has escaped the usual damage associated with gambling on a winter garden in zone 6.

Some drops had their tender stems turn to mush when temperatures dropped into the single digits, but over the years I’m learning who these tender drops are, and am moving them to more sheltered spots.

With the right attitude the good always outweighs the bad, and I like to think there’s a lot of good. New snowdrops are good, and I can’t believe I have ‘E.A. Bowles’ in the garden this year. I love it. When I first saw this drop five years ago on a visit to Hitch Lyman’s Temple Garden, I thought for sure it would be many years before I would have a chance at it, but here it is.

‘E.A. Bowles’, a pure white snowdrop which has replaced the three short inners with another set of pure white outers.

So now I shall continue with way more snowdrop pictures than good company should have to endure. You are more than welcome to scroll down to the end and I won’t take a bit of offense 🙂

Another newer to me drop, galanthus ‘moortown’. Thumbs up for me on these big blooms with a strong mark that bleeds up.

Only a few drops here can claim to be new and exciting. They might seem that way to me but fancier people will turn their noses up at the plain white and green things I’m obsessing about. No problem I say. Social distancing is so much easier around here when your day revolves around tiny green markings on a tiny white flower.

I’m not sure who Alan is, but here’s galanthus ‘Alan’s Long Ovary’ looking nice with a growing clump of ‘Winifrede Mathias’ in the background.

Before anyone gets the wrong impression, let me again clearly state that my garden is not as impressive as closeups and heavily cropped photos might imply. Snowdrops are tiny, and one drop does not a garden make, so I think I still have plenty of time to consider charter bus parking and garden visitor handouts.

A blank lawn is slowly giving way to planting beds and a garden design. This is the bulk of my snowdrop garden, and notice that the glare of white is still far from overwhelming.

Even without visitors it’s a fun obsession. It makes the next few weeks less painful as we shelter in place and face the waiting game.

A late galanthus ‘Kew Green’ backed up by an early hellebore. I like when the drops open alongside other spring color.

Hopefully the garden is enough to wear me out and keep me safe from online plant shopping. February has already seen magnolia and “hardy” camellia purchases and there’s no plans to where any of it will go, so if we stop there it’s probably a good thing.

A souvenir snowdrop from another Temple Gardens visit, galanthus ‘Greenish’. It was beautiful in the gardens and I was thrilled to see it for sale at the exit.

There’s plenty to do without adding anything new, so let me remind myself of that.

Rocks thrown down for a new (and yet unfinished) bed edging have kept the rabbits away from the crocus they normally destroy. I wonder if I can expand on this idea…

Moving plants comes first. In the earliest days of spring I can pop stuff up and plop it elsewhere without water or worry and that’s perfect for the laziest of gardeners. Today I shall finish the snowdrops and begin shrubs… according to the plan I never follow…

One of my favorites, galanthus ‘Sutton Courtney’ with a few tommy crocus behind. Fyi the snowdrops still looked nice a few hours later after the bunnies ate all the crocus.

Hope these days treat you well and you’re able to find your own retreat in the garden.

Darn Leap Year

Mar2

Even though most of the long range forecasts hinted at a shift to colder weather, I’m 99% sure it’s because of the leap year. I haven’t filled in all the gaps in my new theory but Saturday was much colder than I think we deserved and I bet it would have been a much nicer day if it were March 1st rather than February 29th…. unless that’s not the case. Come to think of it February wasn’t all that bad this year, with a couple days in the 50’s and plenty in the 40’s to counteract the odd 4 degree night. Much warmer than normal and practically snow-free, and that made for some wonderfully early snowdrop visits.

‘Rodmarton Arcturus’ to the left of ‘Rodmarton Regulus’. Two stand out snowdrops in a stand out NY snowdrop collection.

First on the list was a visit to an open garden on Long Island NY. I was in the area to visit my parents and with beautiful sunshine and warm weather in the forecast it just made sense to drag mom out to look at drops. Dad has learned his lesson on previous colder visits so he wisely stayed home, but even he would have enjoyed the location and warmth.

The garden’s host leading a group around to admire the drops.

This is the same garden my friend Paula and I visited last year (nearly a month later btw), and this visit made me realize how spoiled were were the first time. We had our host nearly all to ourselves that time, and all the stories and tips and conversation made the time fly by too quickly. This time even though we had to share him with the other groups flowing through, we were still able to catch a glimpse of several treasures and check out what the new season brought.

Galanthus ‘Joe Spotted’ was looking much finer than my overexposed photos show. Pity that we were forced to endure such strong sunshine and warm breezes during our visit.

This garden has clump after clump of rare and special snowdrops, so it takes a while to inch through the plantings, but as we got around to the end the healthy clumps of “wild” ‘viridapice’ scattered all through the hedges and shrubbery reminded me that the tried and true also has incredible value.

Patches of Galanthus ‘Viridipice’ around the garden’s edges.

Come to think of it I may have to order a few more ‘viridapice’ this year when I send in my wish list. Earlier orders are well on their way to clumping up here and if you’d like to do the same, check under sources on my snowdrop page for the owner’s email address.

It’s a shame to be less than a mile from the ocean and not stop by. I miss the winter beach.

For as pleasant and warm as our February snowdrop visit was, the fake February visit I made yesterday was a far different experience. On a day which should have been March I set off to the Philly area to meet with my friend Paula for our traditional snowdrop tour. Cold it was. And windy. It was ridiculous to stand out in the wind and cold for nearly three hours but we did, and I’m not sure who was to blame.

The garden looked March-ish with witch hazels, snowdrops, and hellebores. The green of winter aconite looked awfully fresh for a day hovering just above freezing.

Normally Paula and I have much more adventurous spring snowdrop agendas but this year she abandoned me to take on a big overseas adventure in the UK amongst more ancient and vast snowdrop gardens. Just catching up on that alone took most of the afternoon!

Spring snowflakes (Leucojum vernum) and some yellow winter aconite (Eranthis hyemalis) carpet the mossy ground under the central cherry tree.

The garden was filled with enough other distractions to compete with the trip stories. Snowdrops are nice but the hellebores were also coming up all over, and the mix of colors made me grateful there are plenty of fantastic gardens on this side of the Atlantic as well.

A real winter garden with awesome hellebores and snowdrops seeding and sprouting everywhere.

I also had an experience which shook me a bit. There’s a leafy evergreen perennial called the Japanese sacred lily (Rohdea japonica) and although some people go absolutely nuts for them, paying thousands of dollars for special forms, I have remained entirely immune to any desire to grow them. Then I saw Paula’s. It was kinda nice.

More snowdrops and hellebores plus a nice clump of Rohdea japonica. Hmmmm.

I’ll have to be careful the next time I’m around Edgewood Gardens. John Lonsdale has a nice variety of them scattered across his hillside and what harm could a second look do, but in the meantime let’s think about cheaper plants. Galanthus worowonii is a species snowdrop which can be had for a few bucks a bag and in general is nice enough, but not much of a bloomer for me. Then I saw a nice bunch at Paula’s. Out of all the many goodies this is the one I was interested in, and I think you’ll see why.

A good blooming, nicely formed Galanthus woronowii on the right, and a regular one on the left. As you would expect most of what I have in my garden are leafy and floppy like the ones on the left.

So now I’m thinking of more unnecessary plants to try, Might as well add another. Winter jasmine (Jasmine nudiflorum) is a floppy, messy, wanna-be shrub that sometimes identifies as a vine. Don’t be fooled into thinking it’s as fragrant as its cousins (it’s not), but it is a surprisingly floriferous late winter bloomer that doesn’t mind freezing more than it thaws. I see it listed as hardy to zone 6, so I may poke a stem in here (it roots easily wherever a stem touches down) and give it a global warming try.

Winter jasmine artfully slung over the perfect boulder. I’m sure it takes a little trimming to keep in check, but the effect is worth it.

Hmmmm. It seems like I’ve mentioned quite a few new things to try out this year, and there have only been two garden visits so far. Luckily it’s March and even though the month is a day late in coming, flipping the calendar means one really important thing which you may or may not know about. It’s the month of official snowdrop events, and next Saturday, March 7th is David Culp’s Galanthus Gala. From 10-3 Downington Pa shall transform into the epicenter of rare snowdrop sales, hellebore offerings, uncommon plants, and a celebration of all types of plant nerdery in general. Alan Street of Avon Bulbs will be offering two lectures and I suspect many plants will find new homes that day. Admission is free, but pre-sale entry and the lectures will require ticket purchase. All the cool kids will be there and hopefully I can sneak in as well.

Hope you have an excellent week. March does have its benefits, and hopefully one of them is warming temperatures. Not an insignificant point since it took me about 8 hours to warm up again after trying to pull off a garden visit in Fake February.

sorta like suburbia

more than you ever wanted to know about my garden

Category Archives: spring bulbs