However, for this magic to happen, we plant the little darlings now. I will confess to having a rather free-for-all approach to bulb planting. I do take precautions for tulips, as I have an active and growing chipmunk population turning the front raised bed into luxury chippie condos. I like to coat my tulips in bulb dust by putting a couple of tablespoons or so in a paper lunch bag, dropping in the bulbs, and shaking to coat evenly. Bulb dust has nasty garlic, chili pepper, and other icky tasting stuff in it.
I have patches where I have planted in sequence with a color scheme in mind, but only a couple. I tend to dot in daffodils where I know perennials will fill in and cover their foliage as it wanes. I did create a river of grape hyacinth (Muscari sp.) that is holding its own for the most part. But, I like surprises in spring. Quite frankly, I have no idea where all my bulbs are planted and I like it that way.
This year, I will start the scilla (Scilla siberica) project. In the historic district of my town, a handful of homes have scilla lawns. What is a scilla lawn? Imagine a carpet of tiny blue flowers flowing through the lawn into beds and around trees. Since scilla blooms before you're ready to cut the grass, you have a stunning sea of color with minimal fuss. That is, after you plant the cursed things. I am starting with fifty and will add more each year. Are they planted yet? Heck, no. Hey! The ground isn't frozen yet. I've got time.
For a little taste of spring, here are a few crocus and one of my Katherine Hodgkin bulb iris. I promise to post the scilla as they progress.