Early Spring, 2015

It happens every year, but I greet the arrival of spring with the delight of an infant who has never seen a blossom before. The garden is awakening. I wander along damp mossy paths, smiling at each swelling flower bud and each lime-green leaf that unfurls. The light is gentle, the breeze is energizing, and the air is filled with chirps and chatters and trills and calls. There is a mockingbird in a tree, and his incessant happy song declares the wonders of season. 

Many limbs and branches are still bare, and on a rainy day the land looks as cheerless as any winter day; but not for long, as every morning adds new color to the landscape. Forsythia was late blooming this year, put off by freezes, but at last it opened its cheery yellow bells:

Chaenomeles, or flowering quince, bloomed through the hard freezes and continues to be beautiful:

Corylopsis spicata, called winterhazel, is a plant in the witch hazel family, or Hamamelidaceae. Its clusters of yellow flowers hang on bare branches and glow like little lanterns:Fothergilla is one of my favorite native shrubs. I recently planted several new ones near the base of some river birch trees. This variety is called 'Redneck Nation,' after Fred Nation, the botanist who found it growing in south Alabama. My new shrubs look sparse now, but they will soon grow and be filled with foliage. The fragrant, white bottlebrush blooms are just beginning to open:

My daffodils were a bit disappointing this year. They bloomed just in time to be hit by severe frost, then weeks of rain. They lay low to the ground during most of this time, but bravely stood tall when the sun was shining:

These trilliums grow wild in my woodland garden. The deep maroon petals in the center have not yet opened:

Hepatica nobilis, also called liverwort, is a beautiful woodland wildflower. I planted these next to a path, so I can appreciate its small, delicate blooms:

Another spring wildflower in my woodland garden is Sanguinaria, also called bloodroot. It has taken a long time to become established; the first couple of years I thought it had died! I am glad to see several blooms this year. It is shown on the upper right in this collage of spring bloomers:Clockwise from upper left: Sanguinaria, also called bloodroot; Grape Hyacinths; Pieris japonica, also called andromeda; Camellia 'Taylor's Perfection'; Leucojum aestivum, also called summer snowflake, although it blooms in spring; Magnolia 'Jane.'I am just as pleased with beautiful foliage as I am with flowers. Strawberry begonia and Heucerella 'Alabama Sunrise' are two new additions to my woodland garden: Strawberry begonia is a vigorous ground cover.

Heucerella 'Alabama Sunrise' is a cross between Heuchera and Tierella. Throughout the year, life continues in the decaying crevices of Stump World:

On a fallen log I find a surprisingly beautiful arrangement of lichens, which have flourished in abundant rain:

As day's end approaches, I find these blooms silhouetted against the sky:

The woods still look bare in evening's glow, but tomorrow more buds will open and more color will show. Spring is here!

In the February Garden

A wintry storm with bitter cold temperatures is headed our way, though whether it actually arrives is another matter. Forecasters tend to get excited and talk for days about any sort of ice or snow, but often it fizzles out and we all end up with extra milk and bread for no good reason. (The grocers in our area must be thrilled whenever winter precipitation is predicted, as everyone is obligated to stock up for blizzard conditions, even if only a dusting of snow is forecast. This is tradition.)

Yesterday, while Lou went to the store for emergency milk and bread, I went for a walk around the garden. There are a few flowers blooming in anticipation of spring, which, winter storm or not, should be here in a few weeks.

Flowering quince, Chaenomales, is one of the earliest signs of spring and will continue to bloom profusely for weeks:

Hellebores also are early bloomers, and their flowers will persist for months, all of them eventually shading to pale green:Fortunately, most of my daffodils are not yet blooming and should do OK through the winter storm, but a few are flowering. I am glad I got to see them before they got zapped:Here are some more scenes around the February garden:

You may note the Nandina domestica, growing above. This has proven to be terribly invasive, and I have pulled hundreds of these plants out of my woodland garden. The area shown here is a wild area immediately adjacent to the garden. I have given up trying to eradicate them all, and I am now content to keep them under control. My neighbors love these, and one can still find them for sale. Sigh. At least they are pretty.

I will end with a few pot shots, focusing on details, since most of these containers are empty, waiting for spring: