Spring Blossoms into Summer?

How pretty is this iris?

I'm starting with a picture of one of my favorite spring bulbs - Katherine Hodgkin iris. They are small and sweet and this year popped out of the ground in about twenty-four hours. They bloomed for a couple of days and then our 70s and low 80s caused them to wither and fade. They don't usually last more than a week, but our ridiculous temperatures have accelerated everything. I'm wearing shorts! In March!

The bees are moving too fast for a picture.

The boxwood at the back door is blooming, much to the delight of bees and bugs. Some folks hate the scent, but I rather like it. This one came with the house and is some kind of Korean. It's about six feet high.

Fragrant forsythia

It is a glorious year for forsythia. The mild winter meant that flower buds were not killed off and warm sunny days sent them bursting into bloom. I'm just not used to seeing magnolia and forsythia bloom at the same time. My redbud is seriously considering flowering, too.

Early kaufmanniana tulips

I adore spring flowers, but I plant in a succesion on purpose. These are early waterlily type tulips.  However, early is usually APRIL! I like to cut daffodils and tulips for bouquets for a good six to eight weeks. Usually, I can do this. This year? All bets are off.

Signs of Spring

Look! Crocus! They're only about an inch and a half tall.

It's been a goofy winter, but I'm still glad that spring is coming. The monotony of brown is beginning to get to me, so I'm seeking out any signs of life in my garden. The witchhazel and snowdrops have been blooming since January, but now I'm seeing more little signals that spring is in the air.

The daffodils are impatient.

The snow crocus has pushed out buds and is considering blooming. My early tulips are up and so are the early daffodils. The pulsatilla has returned and may bloom this year. Buds are swelling on the trees. The chipmunks have made an appearance. Our cardinal couple is back and hopefully this time will not nest in the golden privet by the back door. They were very perturbed that we passed by every day, multiple times a day. I warned them that though it's a nice dense shrub, it's like Grand Central Station. Maybe they'll figure it out this year.

Who knows what this year will bring? Our warmer winter means not as many pests were killed off. I suspect we'll have more Japanese beetle and bagworm. The welcome back party for work was at the local VFW this past weekend and their arborvitae hedge is brimming with bagworm. The tree and shrub staff will probably swing by again, just to check it out. We're that kind of plant/bug geek.

So as today's temperatures seem set to top 60, I've unloaded the 40 pound bag of cat litter from the trunk of the convertible (It seems to help when driving in snow and if I ever get stuck, instant grit!). The rule of the roadster - if it's above 50 and sunny, the top comes down!

Wonderful Witchhazel

Spring is coming.

How do I know? The snowdrops have been blooming for nearly a month and the witchhazel has decided to flower. I planted them on purpose to save my sanity after our long winters. This winter, of course, has been very mild. I still miss not getting enough snow!

Buds just cracking open

I have a spring blooming witchhazel (Hamamelis vernalis) that has finally reached a decent size after a couple of winters of rabbit munching. They don't grow especially quickly, which is unusual in my garden. Most of my trees and shrubs grow at fantastic rates, far quicker than they should. Not the witchhazel. It is taking its sweet time. Some day it will be 10 to 12 feet, but not for many years. I'm very fond of its big ruffled leaves that turn brilliant gold in the fall and its explosive seed pods that send seed far and wide (not that it reseeds, they can be tricky to propagate).

What pretty little dazzlers

I fell in love with witchhazel's strappy star-like flowers and its lightly astringent scent. With a few more sunny days, it will be truly lovely, but for now the petals are only about halfway extended. Its a cautious shrub. The snowdrops will fearlessly brave wind and snow, but the witchhazel needs convincing. That's how I'm sure spring is coming.

Primroses Are Too Cute

Hello, lovely!

February sometimes seems like the longest month. This year we don't have the excitement of a blizzard to break up the monotony of grey skies and bare branches. I get a little desperate for green, growing things and fall for the primoses every time. My local grocery store chain tends to sell them for about a buck and a half (two for $3!). How can I resist?

Nifty flower structure too!

There's no way I'm going to be able to grow primoses (Primula sp.) in my yard. They tend to prefer a moist, cool, woodland site - think England. Our Midwestern summers are too hot and too dry. And, well, everything grows better in England. Ask anybody. I've got my wee pot on the kitchen windowsill so it can get a good dose of sun, and it actually prefers the coolness. It gets watered nearly every day to keep it nice and moist in the dry house. As long as we keep deadheading it, this cheerful plant will bloom for weeks. Once it's done, off to the compost pile! In the meantime, I'm more than a little in love with its bright blooms.

A Mini Jungle: Terrariums

Here in the winter-bound Midwest, I get a little twitchy by the end of January or so. We're still locked down under snow and ice, or in the case of this odd winter, brown grass and mud. I start longing for green and growing things besides the rosemary (which is still alive, sort of). About this time of year the husband and I start hitting conservatories. However, this year I decided after a series of discussions at work, to build my own little conservatory - a terrarium.

I'm not a big miniature gardener. As a die hard tree geek, I like my plants huge and preferably climbable. There is, though, a charm in gardening on the small scale. A recent visit to my friend's lovely home gave me lots of inspiration. Joannie Rocchi is the Perennial Manager at The Growing Place in Aurora and a passionate plantswoman. Her house is filled with terrariums, luxuriant houseplants, and herbs. It was a glorious chance to satisfy my plant-deprived senses.

Joannie's newest endeavor is the water garden terrarium. In the giant jar she has duckweed and frog bit floating among pretty glass bubbles. A scattering of activated charcoal on the bottom keeps the little ecosystem healthy.

I loved this tiny clay house with its little clay stones and seed pods. This miniature moss garden lives under a glass cloche. Under the glass, it becomes a misty mystery.

Joannie prefers clear glass containers. Looking for a use for that old punch bowl? Why not fill it with plants? Add a ceramic mushroom or two, and you have your own personal jungle.

There are many resources for terrarium ideas. Here's my step by step process for my own little garden. I like Tovah Martin's book, The New Terrarium, in particular. I also found a nifty blog, The Fern & Mossery for all things terrarium that's packed with information and inspiration.

Snow Day

Ah, at last! We've got eight inches of powder on the ground after yesterday's snowy day.   The air is so calm that the spruce branches seem to just hover under their white flocking, waiting to be launched.

This morning we got the shoveling done and I'm happy that it really is a light powdery snow.  Much easier to fling. Also, it won't weigh down the twigs of the bushes and make them split. We had some serious breakage in last February's blizzard.

I can now confidently gaze out the windows and see all that 'winter interest'! Boy, do I need more evergreen shrubs. There's a lot of naked bark out there! The most popular place has been the herb bed as I left the basil, fennel, marjoram, and assorted others to go to seed. The chickadees and sparrows have been busy, so it's pretty cleaned out. I refilled the bird feeder and flung some under the lilac tree for the ground feeding juncos.

This is the front flower bed (with the damn gas meter). So pretty in a fresh snow.

Reflections on Life, Death, and Renewal Pruning

The snowdrops are early this year.

This week I attended the wake of my brother-in-law's grandmother, who passed away at the advanced age of 99. It was one of the nicest wakes I've been to because her life was celebrated. Family and friends told stories and caught up with each other. It got me thinking.

As the snowdrops pop out of the ground with the recent warm weather I am reminded of resilience. Snowdrops (Galanthus nivalis) manufacture their own antifreeze. We're due to get snow and below freezing temperatures, but they'll be just fine. Plants are tough buggers. They want to survive and many go to extraordinary lengths to do so. Remember that tree with a phone wire growing through it? We've all seen one.

Perhaps because we work with living things that gardeners may have a different perspective on death. We've all killed a plant, many times for no discernible reason. Many of us compost, seeing firsthand the wonder of dead plant material transform into nutrients for the living. Perhaps since we've had our share of loss, I see the ending of life as a natural state. We don't have children because after several miscarriages, we decided we had given it our best shot and stopped. I went on a lot of walks on my lunch hours during that time and I really began to stop and take notice. I really do smell the roses. And the witchhazel, sweet bay magnolia, violets and the bruised foliage of spicebush. Why? Because it's a feast for the senses. They are living, growing things of such beauty that by soaking it in, I, in turn am renewed.

Speaking of renewal, I am reminded of pruning, the art of cutting away. We often use two terms when we refer to pruning - rejuvenation and renewal. To rejuvenate a shrub you cut all of it back to within a few inches of the soil. Some plants thrive when you prune this way and others so resent it that they die. Renewal pruning is where you thin a plant by about a third, again cutting the branches at the base. This allows sprightly new growth, opens up the structure, and shapes the plant.

I could have come up with a list of resolutions for 2012. However, I think instead I will do a bit of renewal pruning. What kind of clutter can I cut away to open up my life and allow for new growth?