Spring blues

Welcome to spring in New England.  To ring in the equinox, last week, the professionals cleared out a winter's worth of lawn thatch, leaves and twigs. Over the weekend, I sprinkled about 10 lbs. of fertilizer over the spreads of naturalized and bedded bulbs. And, then, the next day, it snowed.



Iced irises: Iris reticulata "Katherine Hodgkin"

While the daffodil foliage is about six inches high and a few varieties are even starting to bloom, most of the bulbs are still a few weeks away from hitting their stride. Thank you, global warming: the garden thinks that it's April in March. Until it's February in March. And back again.

Re-booting

Please tell me that spring is just around the corner, and it's okay to hit the button on a garden re-boot: plants to order, spaces to plan, and the smell of warming earth to anticipate. Pay no attention to the snow squalls swirling and spinning today.

One of the first spring start-up efforts has to go towards overhauling my dahlia situation.  After several years of the lazy person's approach to tuber overwintering, these plants are simply not flowering as heavily as they should. The glory of dahlias is their shameless, perhaps vulgar, garishness--blooms ranked as "dinner plate" size and sparking neon bright--but even those varieties more restrained in appearance bring a much needed energy to the late summer garden. 

Because I primarily cut dahlias for indoors arrangements, I'm casting about for a color palette in shades of apricot, fuschia, and maroon and a flower size that fits comfortably into a table-top vase.

Dahlia palette (www.design-seeds.com)

The American Dahlia Society has classified flowers by size, shape, and color, so it's possible to sort through the vertiginous array of varieties.  Because the most popular types sellout quickly and no nurseries carry an encyclopedic selection, I typically end up placing orders with a number of suppliers: this year, Arrowhead, Swan Island, and Ferncliff Gardens.

Kelsey Radiance (CO DB = collarette, dark blend) 

Rose Toscano (M FD OR = less than 4", formal decorative, orange)

Lights Out (M FD DR = less than 4", formal decorative, dark red)

Uptown Girl (BB FD DP = 4"-6", formal decorative,  dark pink)

Can't wait for the deliveries, along with warm weather and sunshine, to arrive in April.  Can planting time be so very far away?

Deal sealed (or about Polygonatum odoratum var. pluriflorum "Varigatum")

Last summer, I wrote about scavenging a clump of Variegated Solomon's Seal from a construction site near work.  Once home, these bedraggled, tattered, debris-coated plants were tucked in a shady bed populated by hostas, sweet woodruff, and various shade-loving weeds.

This spring, the Solomon's Seals came up with bells on.  Well, at least they boasted small white pendant blossoms that look a bit like bells. The "odoratum" and "pluriflorum" portions of its Latin name are a tip to the sweet scent of its many flowers.

It's great when plantings that look this great cost absolutely nothing.  I'll try to remember that dash of kismet when I'm moaning over the sad remains of some costly specimen.  Because dead plants are  definitely part of the gardening deal.

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day

Even on an overcast, raw, why-are-we-still-wearing-mittens kind of day, these patches of yellow make their own sunny weather. In the foreground is the daffodil "Yellow Cheerfulness," the middle ground is covered with"Wisley," and forsythia "Lynwood Gold" rules the background.  

Why the sunken garden makes me feel unsinkable

Visiting someone else's garden is always liberating: you're free of any responsibilities for unfinished seasonal chores, unblinkered of the eyesores of your garden design failures, and unburdened of battling nature's imperfections, your poor choices, or chance's victims.

I'm always glad to have an excuse to pop into the Sunken Garden at Radcliffe Institute. A tall brick wall encloses the street sides, so passersby are likely to miss this serene site unless they peek through the Radcliffe Yard gates. Once inside, sounds of a fountain and weathered memorial benches offer a respite from the daily grind.

Despite today's breezy, sunny weather, chilly temperatures continue to hold a full flowering spring at a distance.  Nevertheless, the fern fiddleheads are stretching through their netted coats, white-flowering magnolias (Magnolia x stellata) are flicking in the wind, and Siberian squills (Scilla siberica) circle the base of a massive beech tree.