Calling It Spring

Spring officially arrives March 20 this year. However, I am calling it spring a month early. Not pre-spring. Spring! I am aware that cruel hard frost could quickly put a damper on my enthusiasm, but I can't deny what is happening in my garden. Young perennial shoots are poking out of the earth, buds are swelling, and flowers are opening.Naturalized daffodils cover portions of the garden. They are a cheerful sign of spring.

My gardening juices are flowing like sap rising in a maple tree. Between rain storms (according to my rain gauge, 12.4" in February!) I have been outside cleaning, pruning, and weeding. Some days I feel like I am working inside a cloud because of all the moisture in the air, but the cool temperatures are perfect for gardening.

As I work, I breathe in the rich earthy smells around me and listen to a cacophony of bird song. Birds are beginning to claim rights to various birdhouses on the property. Others birds are finding potential home sites inside shrubs like Chaenomeles, known as flowering quince. Its dense, prickly branches offer good shelter for nests. It is a reliable, low-maintenance shrub with beautiful blooms:

Here are more early blooms in the garden:Clockwise from top left: Forsythia is one of the first shrubs to bloom; The original owner of our home planted these smaller daffodils many years ago, and I find them popping up throughout the garden; Edgeworthia buds are now opening completely to reveal clusters of trumpet shaped flowers; Amelanchier trees, also called Juneberry, have attractive white blossoms that last only a week or so, but are followed by sweet berries that ripen in June.

Hellebores, daffodils, camellia, and a potted variegated winter daphne complement each other in shades of pink and white:

I call these old tree logs, "Stump World." After a tornado in 1990, we rolled several huge sections of a fallen oak tree down into the woods to let them rot. They have been a fascinating study in how nature recycles itself. Today only these two remain. The plants in front are Aucuba japonica.

I always like to finish my garden day by taking a stroll in the woodland garden. As evening approached, I recently snapped a photo of the lengthening shadows:

Then I gathered my tools and began making plans for the next gardening day. 

The Magic of Trilliums

Half of my woodland garden came into being because of a patch of trilliums. Eight years ago I discovered trilliums growing near a "dog trot" trampled through the weeds in an area adjacent to the woodland garden. Well, now. Trilliums are pretty special. Before the year was over, I had widened the trail into a real path so that I could easily access those trilliums. I connected the path to the main woodland garden and started adding ferns, native azaleas, Japanese maples, camellias, and all sorts of other woodland plants to the space. Eventually I created a new sitting area and had an enormous "sitting rock" hauled in as a focal point. All because of a patch of trilliums... 

Trilliums are rhizomatous, deciduous perennials native to North America. They grow in deep to partial shade in well-drained, loamy soil high in organic matter. There are over 30 different species. They all have a whorl of three leaves from which arises a solitary, three-petaled flower. The leaves and flower colors will vary by species. They are often described as spring ephemerals, meaning that they come up each spring, then quickly bloom and produce seed. By mid-summer the leaves have withered, and only the unseen underground parts remain. The seeds produce small fruits that attract ants. The ants help to spread the trillium seeds by carrying the fruits to their nest. They eat the fruits but discard the seeds as trash. If the soil is suitable, the seed will germinate.

Trillium cuneatum, also called Toadshade, the wood lily or Sweet Betsy, grows wild on my property.

This trillium is native to the southeastern US. I love its maroon flowers, as well as its variegated leaves and striking maroon stems. However, trillium "leaves" are actually bracts supporting the flower, and the "stem" is actually an extension of the horizontal, underground rhizome.

One should never pick trilliums. Some trilliums are endangered, and picking may be illegal. If the leaf-like bracts are picked, the trillium is unable to produce food for next year, and it will die. Always purchase nursery-raised trilliums from reputable garden shops. They should never be dug from the wild.

I think the best way to enjoy trilliums is use them as an excuse to take a nature walk with friends and relatives and to photograph them!

You may also enjoy reading my older post about how I began this part of my woodland garden:  A New Woodland Path