Okay. Summer is Over

Oct31

Yes, I’m often really slow to pick up on things, especially when I’m really determined to hold on to my optimism or ignorance, but eventually the wrecking balls roll in and the troops hit the streets and you realize there’s a change in the weather and the freedom of summer is dying. I’ll miss it. Most people saw it coming and warned me to be prepared, but a few sunny days can fool you into thinking no big deal, there’s time, it can’t turn on you so fast… until suddenly it does and it’s your turn to face a killing frost.

An autumn crop of lettuce likely won’t amount to anything significant, but it does make things look better than they really are. Someone will get a nice salad. Probably not me, but…

Monday morning we woke up to a frosty morning. It’s just a touch of ice and many of the natives are just fine, but tender stuff like dahlias and cannas from Mexico and points south got burnt, and will now need lifting and winter protection in order to make it through the approaching cold.

Aromatic aster, either ‘Raydon’s Favorite’ or ‘Bluebird’, I forget… is still in full bloom and will go on into November. It’s great doer.

Fortunately we’ve had plenty of rain to cover up all the stresses the garden faced this summer, and the asters and mums are as nice as ever and the fall color here in the lower elevations at least had enough time to color up rather than just give up. As far as autumns go it wasn’t too bad I guess, but summer is still my preferred season and these last few weeks were more of a long hanging-on than any real admission that fall is here.

A chrysanthemum seedling which a friend gave me a few years back. Hardy and reliable and an excellent flower which more than makes up for her floppy form.

So I guess I’m admitting that fall is here. The leaves have changed, the tender plants are under protective custody indoors and it’s moved on to all the little tasks which need doing before the cold and ice lock us all down for a winter.

Sunday foliage and flowers. By Monday the orange thunbergia was a wilted memory.

For a few weeks more it’s still nice though. The colors and light are superb, the lawn has recovered some of its spring lushness, and a shovel sinks into the soil rather than being rejected. Time for replanting, mulching, protecting, maybe some pruning… all those last minute things which are fine as long as the weather holds, but just not fun when a cold front rolls through.

This ‘Arnold’s Promise’ witch hazel always runs through rings of color as the leaves turn. Witch hazels are awesome.

Hmmm. Maybe I better end on a more cheerful note because the rain and Mellissa’s march through the Caribbean seem to have me in a gloomy mood. Here are some promises for a wonderful winter starting with the hardy cyclamen which are popping up here and there throughout the beds. Cyclamen hederifolium is probably the most varied and easiest and I’ll show just one picture with a few last flowers since there will be time all winter to show off the foliage on the rest of them.

A few last flowers wrapping up a month and a half of bloom on cyclamen hederifolium. I’m always tempted to pot a few dozen up so I can admire them one by one… but under my care that’s a likely death sentence so in the garden they stay.

Oh and do you know what else is on the way? Yeah, snowdrops. The earliest fall bloomers are opening and they look great this year.

The first fall bloomer in my garden is ‘Tilebarn Jamie’ and even at a later date this would be a beautiful and reliable snowdrop worth giving a try.

I know it’s been a while since I’ve mentioned snowdrops… maybe at least two weeks… but they’re on my mind again after what might have been overload this past spring. Perhaps preparing a sales table for the Gala made it work, and maybe that work made it less fun, but I think this year I can organize a little better and get back to the fun I usually have. Maybe I’m also itching to add a few new ones rather than faking “responsibility” and trying to say ‘no’ more than I’d like to. Maybe this spring I’ll be saying ‘why not?’ Maybe I’ll start this fall. More fall bloomers would be good and I know a guy and why not?

Have a great weekend 🙂

‘Tis the Season

Mar23

Last weekend there was a snowdrop brunch here. That sounds kind of fancy but in reality it wasn’t, even if we did use real plates instead of paper. I owed my friend Kevin for helping out at the Gala, and thought breakfast would be a good start, but when he already had plans with another friend who just happens to be Kimberley of Cosmos and Cleome I thought let me invite them both. I had been cleaning up the garden all week, and the lure of food might be my best chance at getting someone other than the dog to look at a few snowdrops with me, so the three of us made plans and another name was suggested, two more people were added, and when someone offered to bring a dessert I had to rename our breakfast to brunch since you know you can’t have a dessert after only eating a few scrambled eggs. Plus I wanted to sleep in of course, and not everyone wants breakfast at 11.

‘Blonde Inge’ is a dainty little snowdrop with the added touch of a yellow mark inside. Sometimes the inner glow makes the whole bloom shine but I’m sure that’s just my imagination.

The brunch went well. I believe with the exception of a horribly weak second cup of coffee which I tried to pass off as drinkable, everyone found a bite to eat and something interesting to talk about and the time passed a little to quickly. I got nervous. What if all these people just came here to hang out and eat and no one wants to freeze outside, crawling from snowdrop to snowdrop admiring how different each and every one is and what kind of history it has and how tricky it is to grow and does it multiply well and where did I get it from and…

A ‘Blonde Inge’ seedling. Very similar to mom, but oh so much more amazing because she was born here in this garden.

Eventually I passed out coats and people took the hint. I had fun. People looked cold. Not everyone seemed to care about how ‘Wisley Magnet’ differed from ‘Foxgrove Magnet’, so I think pancakes will still be required to get them back again, but from my perspective it seemed so much healthier to finally be seen talking to other people in the garden rather than myself. I hinted at food and another visit for daffodils and people seemed open to the idea so hopefully with any luck this wasn’t a one and done deal.

Green tipped ‘Viridapice’ with a flush of yellow winter aconite. I know I show these way too often but this is probably my favorite mix of late winter color.

My favorite comment of the day was something to the effect of ‘What the F*&k Frank, how do you have so much flowering!?’ and generally people had other nice things to say as well, but to my shock not everyone wanted to look at each and every clump, and it was more of a yellow vs green, that one is so much larger, and oh look a double, conversations. So rather than find all new friends who will probably eat just as much I’ll just babble on to you about a few of my favorites for this year… and try and not repeat all the favorites which show up as my ‘maybe favorites’ every other year. Key word there is “try”.

A newer snowdrop for me, galanthus ‘Greenfields’ is completely boring and average, but perfectly formed and sturdy and crisply colored with dark green marks on a good sized and pristinely white flower.

Several snowdrops have come up paler this year, including ‘Ivy Cottage Corporal’. Before people began seeing faces in their snowdrops, the people at Ivy Cottage saw the insignia marks for the rank of corporal in this drop.

‘Dick’s Early Yellow’ is just that, and an excellent grower as well.

Last season ‘Midas’ barely bothered with yellow, choosing green instead but this year the color is closer to gold. Brighter days perhaps?

I think of galanthus ‘Elizabeth Harrison’ as an aristocrat amongst snowdrops. She’s a little delicate and can be fussy, but when everything is going her way the bright yellow and white against grass-green foliage strikes me as quite elegant.

Galanthus ‘EA Bowles’ is amazingly beautiful but died off on me a few years ago. Fortunately a friend was able to give me another start and now he’s settled back in and doing well. Good thing, since my friend went on to lose her clump and now hopefully I can share a piece back again this summer.

As American as a snowdrop can get, ‘Carol Simcoe’ was found in a wild population around Allentown Pa and was introduced by Gerald Simcoe and named after the artist’s mother.

In the 1940’s Heyrick Greatorex named a group of doubles which some people seek out. My favorite is ‘Cordelia’ with her long-lasting, sturdy and upright flowers, but the others which I grow may or may not be the true forms, and may or may not be as favored.

For no reason other than my own curiosity, I’m excited about this entirely average snowdrop seedling. The potential mom is behind and I thought she never sets seed but along comes a seedling which shares her long, narrow ovary but with bigger flowers and wider leaves. I think they’re related and I think I like the mix.

So I think I did fairly well there with minimal babbling and maximum efficiency and I also think that summary reflects my whole snowdrop season in general this year. It was too cold, then it became too warm, and for the last week too windy and too stormy. The warmth pushed everything along in some spots but barely thawed the soil in others. The wind made snowdrop viewing uncomfortable and some strong rain beat up a few things even more, but in between there were still a few perfect moments and that’s all I ask.

The first flowers of the Dutch hybrid crocus always signals the downside of the snowdrop season. The garden will be nonstop from now on!

I hope your season is reving up and full of promise as well, and that it brings you joy. For a few days yet everything seems under control and so well planned, but then the tidal wave of weeds, weather, and watering hits and there’s barely a moment to breath, and if you end up there stop. Make sure you have time to breath and enjoy. I shall be doing that today… unless of course I shovel and move a few tons of dirt to level some dips in the lawn next door which will then need seeding and watering and then perhaps I’ll get to my own back lawn which has plenty of spots which need to be a few inches higher and will also need a couple tons of dirt spread and then I probably have to run out for more grass seed and the first box of ordered plants is sitting on the porch steps… and well… *breath*

Brrrrrrrrrr

Feb15

Damn groundhog. After all the work we put into the Days of Plantness the stupid groundhog has to go see his shadow and bring six more weeks of winter onto us all. Everything here is trying to sprout, but it’s just one cold night after another and I can only imagine the mess that would be if we didn’t do Plantness in January. It could be colder. We haven’t had much snow. I bet that extra orchid I bought stopped a blizzard or something so you’re welcome.

Of course this is the year that I was hoping for a mild winter and early spring so that I could do a few really important things in February, mainly get a bunch of snowdrops ready to bring to a certain Galathus Gala for a sales table. Yeah, a sales table. Long story short, last November I was convinced by someone that I’m capable of selling snowdrops at this year’s Galanthus Gala in Downingtown Pa, so we will see… and perhaps you will see it as well if you make it down there in two weeks! I think the in-person talks and early entry are all sold out (click >here< for ticket info) but from ten through the afternoon anyone can stop by just to look and browse, and even if you’re outside the area, virtual tickets for all the talks are also available. I’m anxiously excited yet a little nervous. Anonymity is so much easier when you’re not lined up against a wall at a table, and I am a big fan of being anonymous at these things 😉

I potted up a bunch of snowdrops in December “just in case” and so far so good. Here they are open to the elements for a breather. I’m not crazy about a frosting of ice, but they seem to like it.

So. The cold. Maybe that’s got me a little nervous as well. Hopefully all the goodies which are, and are yet-to-be, potted up will not be locked up in ice the day I need to load the car, but of course that couldn’t happen and I’m positive everything will be fine. Surely this cold can’t last forever… unless it does… and this week it feels like it could.

An icy frosting to the garden

In spite of the cold and frequent snow and ice, the snowdrops at least are anxious to grow! It’s absolutely amazing when a frozen earth with air temperatures barely above freezing can produce sprouts from one day to the next! The plants have spoken, and are rising up in spite of that fat little groundhog’s prediction to bring a little springtime vibe to an icy garden. I may be biased, but snowdrops are pretty amazing for what they do.

Under the shelter of an evergreen, ‘Castle Plum’ is ready to go. Our one warm day tomorrow will open these blooms right up.

So in defiance of the cold I was supposed to visit my friend Paula today for a few more sales table snowdrops, but more predicted snow and an observation of frozen earth, and her “if you really insist on coming maybe you can pickaxe up a chunk of frozen muddy sprouts to take home” suggestion, pushed me over to the side of better sense and the visit is rescheduled for Monday. Tomorrow the snow is to change over to rain alongside a rise in temperatures, and perhaps slimy mud is better than hacking out chunks of ice.

Winter interest is starting to get old around here. I can’t wait to trim the hellebores and clear things out for the coming show!

In the meantime I’m trying to avoid spending too much time staring out windows and imagining the perfect year to come. I haven’t been distracted by skiing this year in spite of the excellent conditions (and I blame kids with their own drivers licenses and friends who are “aging out” for this), and to be honest I was almost bored a few days ago when weather kept me inside and I just didn’t care enough to finish fixing a burst water line or carry water to the basement plants. I think I’m suffering garden withdrawl.

A primrose purchased “for a friend” but then I just couldn’t be home any of the times she offered to stop by to pick it up. Hmmm. I feel terrible about that.

We will carry on. I’m somewhat excited but can feel myself on the edge of that manic snowdrop fever and it’s scary. There’s not even a thought of going back to the days when I’d pretend they were no big deal, and of course it will be fun seeing it all return. Just one more cold week and then snowdrops, witch hazel, winter aconite, willows… and all will start bursting out with every new sunny day to fill the garden again.

Hang in there and have a great weekend!

Winter Solstice ’24

Dec21

Somehow it’s already the Winter Solstice and when you’re focused on making it through the busy weeks before Christmas these things can sneak up on you. Not that the timing changes much from year to year, but with all eyes focused on food and gifts and vacation plans, this celestial switch from shortening days to lengthening ones can slip by. Winter has a timer running now, and although here we are plunging into a few days of cold again, on this longest night of the year we start climbing back out of this winter darkness.

Just a few days ago ‘Faringdon Double’ was just beginning to nose up. A couple days of warm weather later and he’s been tricked into bloom. We will see how he holds up to the cold.

On the plus side the warm weather thawed the soil and allowed me to plant the last couple hundred tulips which have been sitting in the garage. The garlic should have also gone in as well, but maybe eating it isn’t the worst solution along with a year off from garlic growing and buying a few new cloves for planting next fall. Who says that just because you can, you must?

The arriving cold brought more snow than expected which should act as a decent cover for all the autumn/winter snowdrops already in growth. This is ‘Potter’s Prelude’ in case your ID skills are iffy 😉

Actually I use the ‘because I can’ logic all the time, so maybe during our likely January thaw they will still get planted… or not… since there’s always plenty of other things which need doing around here, like things which flood the basement with water and need unplugging and cleaning up, which fortunately didn’t happen on Christmas Eve but there’s still time.

Also, since this blog rarely offers useful or timely information I guess now might be a good chance to point out that there’s still time to blow on an ember or throw gasoline on the flames of obsession, if those flames are for snowdrops. One of the first, and one of the longest running purveyors of named snowdrops in the US, Mr Hitch Lyman, should be sending out his list during the first days of the new year. You can’t request it online and you can’t dilly dally since once the list goes out it sells out, so dust off that stationary and get a note off to him asap if you want your own copy.

Mr Hitch Lyman, Box 591, Trumansburg NY 14886. Years ago I believe $2 or $3 was added to cover the cost, but I’d play it safe with $5 these days, and in my opinion the art and the read are worth it even if you don’t fall for the drops. I may be biased of course.

The front porch is ready for the longest night. A few more inches of snow have fallen since and it looks absolutely seasonal now.

I apologize for again drifting into snowdrops but another timely note is that the date for this year’s Galanthus Gala has been set. Snowdroppers from near and far will be descending upon Downingtown Pa Saturday, March 1st for a day of lectures, sales, and camaraderie. There will still be ups and downs this winter, but the date will be here before we know it, and what better promise on this longest night than the promise of a new season and a Gala. Of course I’ll mention it again once tickets go on sale. I’m sure you would expect no less from someone who does tend to go on far too long about those little white flowers.

Enjoy. If it’s cold where you are, I hope for warmth, and if you’re ramping up for celebrations I wish you a blessed holiday season.

**Hopefully no one is too upset that the longest night was actually the Friday night before the solstice, but I started the post yesterday and just didn’t feel like changing everything today 😉

Go Winter!

Dec17

Winter is giving it a try this December and I’m proud of her! There have been chilly nights, brisk winds, snow and ice, and more forced time indoors than I’m used to. Could it be that we are headed for a real winter this year?

The fall blooming snowdrops have been slowed by autumn’s drought and this cold jump into winter. This is Galanthus elwesii hiemalis ssp monostictus ex Montrose and that’s not what the label says since I planted something else in this perfect spot which bloomed a few weeks earlier 🙂

Everyone seems to think it’s brilliantly cold out and will only get colder, snowblowers are revving and snowmobiles are going in for tuneups while the ice fishermen are talking bait and planning their best spots. This weekend we nearly dipped into the single digits (-12C) and it feels like it’s been a while since we saw that in December.

More fall blooming snowdrops, these in a cold pocket which wilts them down but usually they recover… unless it’s ‘Mrs Macnamara’ who does not recover yet still grows quite well in spite of the beating.

This winter seems off to an Arctic start but I’m still not biting my nails worried about the new crape myrtles and camellias which have somehow snuck into the garden. Granted, it was a shock going from the warmest November on record to a little snow and ice, but overall for our little corner of Pennsylvania we’re only averaging about 3 degrees below(!) average… for once… and I’m pretty sure 2024 is still headed towards going down as the hottest year on record globally, which might embarrass 2023 since last year we all thought that heat record was un-toppable.

‘Faringdon Double’ is carefree and reliable in this garden and here it is nosing up and aiming for a January show. What a hopeful sign to see during a a frigid spell of December weather.

Against everyone else I’m hoping that things stay somewhat cold, even if it means being inside more than I’d like, and being bored on nearly every trip outside when the soil is frozen and there’s little to do on the to-do list. The gardener’s plus to a cold winter is that everything goes dormant and stays there. The hellebores won’t be trying to bloom in January only to freeze into mush in February, which is what happens when a fake-spring rolls into Pa in the middle of our winter and forces new growth on things. I’ll take some bleakness for a couple weeks if it means buds are saved for a beautiful March.

Bleakness and a threat? The brutally sharp thorns of the hardy orange (Citrus trifoliata ‘Flying Dragon’) in all their winter starkness. It’s a plant no one will ever snuggle up to.

So it’s cold, and as a result the winter garden is getting more attention that it’s used to and is overflowing with color from coleus, geraniums, and the odd orchid. Poor things don’t know what’s in store for them the minute a thaw rolls in and the gardener is lost again outside, poking around for more snowdrop shoots and other signs of spring. Hopefully before that happens I can share a few of the indoor highlights.

Hope you have a great week!

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.

Winter Flowers

Feb15

Last weekend was beautiful. Technically we’re in the depths of winter, but with a January thaw which has blended into a February thaw winter just doesn’t even seem to be trying this year. Part of me doesn’t mind, but the other part misses the weeks of nothing to do but curl up in a blanket indoors and that bounty of weather-imposed reading and puzzle time. A lack of snow and an abundance of mild days doesn’t offer the same break, and in fact can be exhausting with all the poking and shuffling around -hunched over of course- which needs to be done on a daily basis. Also there’s the idea that this is just the start of ever increasingly warm winters and the anxiety over where it will end… yeah that’s also slightly concerning…

Honeybees busy visiting the winter aconite (Eranthis hyemalis). Plant nerds may notice the bee sits on the straight yellow species while the blooms behind are seedlings of the more apricot ‘Schwefelglantz’, but I don’t think the bees care.

But this week my only consideration is that I’m enjoying winter aconite, snowdrops, witch hazel, and other winter flowers in the middle of February.

Snowdrops close to the house are in full bloom.

The pattern and schedule of these flowers is oddly different than the order I’ve become accustomed to. Some late snowdrops are in full bloom, some early ones are barely up, flowers in the later, more shaded beds are beating out flowers in protected spots, and it seem all kinds of disorganized but I’m sure there’s a logic which escapes me.

More of the straight Eranthis hyemalis, it’s been seeding about and patches are finally forming.

Strangely enough many of the other bulbs are still a little wary of the mild temperatures. I don’t blame them since it’s hard to trust a spring which shows up in the middle of winter, and there’s bound to be an argument somewhere along the line before May and I’d rather not face the frozen wreckage of a spring garden which trusted a little too blindly.

This is Galanthus ‘Egret’ and I like it more and more each spring as it clumps up and settles in. Like the wings of a bird the flowers take flight when fully open.

Ok, one more complaint about a fabulously early and moderate spring. Without a foot of frozen soil and an inch or two of crusty old ice and snow holding everything back the pace of spring seems less exciting. Even with a string of mild days there’s no explosion of new blooms or a string of new flowers opening hour by hour, and it’s more measured and contemplative. I love the excitement of a spring explosion, but I’m also foolish to complain when it doesn’t happen. Four out of five days I’m stuck at work for the explosion and it’s sad cramming it in to the 48 minutes between getting out of the car and the sun going down so just forget I ever mentioned that last complaint.

Another snowdrop which took a few years to grow on me, galanthus ‘Blewbury Tart’.

With spring smoldering outside the fever inside is burning, and I’m moving into dangerous territory with a risky date on the horizon. In case you don’t know March 2nd is Galanthus Gala time, and for me that means a trip to Downingtown PA to meet up with fellow snowdrop fans to browse the snowdrop vendors, consider other rare plant purchases, listen to snowdrop-themed talks, and enjoy the enthusiastic bidding of the Gala auction. Since 2017 David Culp has been hosting this event and if you’re interested in specifics the ticket site can be found >here< …although I have to warn you that tickets for everything other than the streaming online access are already sold out. But don’t fret. Free admission runs from 10-4 and perhaps missing the opening frenzy and enjoying the sales tables while the masses have moved on to the lectures isn’t the worst approach. Here’s another link, this one to the Gala Facebook page which has more info on the vendors and the event, and even though nobody asked I’m going to give away my method for approaching this sale.

Walk in and start talking to someone. Ignore the selling frenzy. Talk to more people. Examine what others are buying and randomly stalk the people who are carrying the coolest plants. Make it (hopefully) less awkward by asking them about their favorites. Eventually start looking at plants. Try to make a full circuit without buying anything because there’s no way you can afford buying everything you want. Go back to the start and see what’s left and only then can you start buying. Trust me you’ll save a ton of money this way and still end up with too much… plus on the first round let’s be honest, everyone has a cheat list with a special snowdrop or witch hazel or two on it, so maybe I could be entirely understanding if you falter and pick up a few things on the first round 😉

If I didn’t already have one I’d consider ‘Moya’s Green’ to be worth adding to the cheat list. It’s been a good grower here, large blooms, the green fades in warmer weather but don’t we all?

Sorry, I didn’t expect to go on like that. It’s a weeknight and bedtime approaches so here’s where the warm weekend went.

I was relieved to see ‘Rosemary Burnham’ returning after I ripped up the boxwoods here and seeded grass. It will be interesting to see how she holds up to the new environment, and it will be interesting to see if the stray sprouts are more Rosemary or some equally interesting seedlings.

One of my favorite snowdrops out of the bulk elwesii bulbs. Large flowers and nice foliage, they just don’t like a cold snap after sprouting.

A warm weekend in February will almost always bring on a cold snap and here we are. Snow and some colder weather but nothing for most plants to worry about. I’m actually loving the sunshine and brisk weather.

I rarely get home in time to see this one open in the sun, but today I did. Adonis amurensis ‘fukujukai’.

Fortunately it’s not too brisk, and the snow is melting faster than it can pack down and turn to ice and the plants should be fine. Even better it will slow the season down and keep the more tender things from thinking it’s time to grow.

Galanthus ‘S. Arnott’ in the afternoon light.

Actually with things not growing yet I can imagine my beds are riddled with empty spots and perhaps I should go all out on the first round. Hmmm.

Have a great week, whether or not your days are warm or brisk, and trust me this isn’t the last you’ll hear of Galas or snowdrops 😉

sorta like suburbia

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