The lowest point in the year is also the lowest moment in my garden. Yet to my eyes it's still beautiful, never more so than when an overnight frost dusts the ground and the few remaining plants with white.
"A planted place" is how American garden designer Louise Beebe Wilder (1878-1938) defined a garden. I think it is the best and most concise description I've come across. This blog is focused on my own small garden in Vancouver, Canada, but the title allows me to include other gardens and plants from time to time if I find them interesting.
Tuesday, 19 January 2021
Ringing In The New Year
While I enjoy these winter treats, I wait eagerly for the first signs of new life, and usually by mid-month I get my reward. This year a rare sunny day on January 16 brought the first winter aconites and snow crocus into bloom. The aconites are always a surprise as their stems almost unnoticeably shoulder their way through the soil, and lever themselves upright before suddenly revealing the tiny buttercup-like flowers with their frill of green.
By contrast, the crocus leaves have been visible for some time, and it's just a question of waiting impatiently for the flowers to accompany them. First to open was a lone yellow one by the back steps where the sun is strongest.
Once I saw it, I went looking for others and found several 'Firefly' also in bloom, but still in too much shade to open.
If we can just expect a few more sunny days, more of these little harbingers of spring will be popping up all over the garden.
Ringing In The New Year
The lowest point in the year is also the lowest moment in my garden. Yet to my eyes it's still beautiful, never more so than when an overnight frost dusts the ground and the few remaining plants with white.
While I enjoy these winter treats, I wait eagerly for the first signs of new life, and usually by mid-month I get my reward. This year a rare sunny day on January 16 brought the first winter aconites and snow crocus into bloom. The aconites are always a surprise as their stems almost unnoticeably shoulder their way through the soil, and lever themselves upright before suddenly revealing the tiny buttercup-like flowers with their frill of green.
By contrast, the crocus leaves have been visible for some time, and it's just a question of waiting impatiently for the flowers to accompany them. First to open was a lone yellow one by the back steps where the sun is strongest.
Once I saw it, I went looking for others and found several 'Firefly' also in bloom, but still in too much shade to open.
If we can just expect a few more sunny days, more of these little harbingers of spring will be popping up all over the garden.
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