February Snow

In my last post I was celebrating the earliest flowers of the new year. Then yesterday it began to snow. The big goosefeather flakes melted almost as soon as they hit the ground, but this morning we woke to a heavier fall that had smothered most of the smaller plants.

The large box in the upper right corner is covering Euphorbia 'Glacier Blue' in the hope that it will survive these below-zero temperatures. Like most variegated plants it's on the tender side and I've had to replace it a couple of times after weather this cold. I'm afraid too, that Hellebore 'Cherry Blossom' that I featured in my previous post will have collapsed and won't recover - at least not this year, though its roots will probably survive.

What always amazes me is the hardiness of Narcissus 'Rijnveld's Early Sensation', also featured in my last post. Although flattened by the snow, it has already shoved its way through the white blanket and is carrying on flowering as though nothing has happened.

On the left of this photo a double snowdrop is also emerging. Its triumph is likely to be brief however: if the snowfall continues it will be submerged again pretty quickly.

February Snow

In my last post I was celebrating the earliest flowers of the new year. Then yesterday it began to snow. The big goosefeather flakes melted almost as soon as they hit the ground, but this morning we woke to a heavier fall that had smothered most of the smaller plants.

The large box in the upper right corner is covering Euphorbia 'Glacier Blue' in the hope that it will survive these below-zero temperatures. Like most variegated plants it's on the tender side and I've had to replace it a couple of times after weather this cold. I'm afraid too, that Hellebore 'Cherry Blossom' that I featured in my previous post will have collapsed and won't recover - at least not this year, though its roots will probably survive.

What always amazes me is the hardiness of Narcissus 'Rijnveld's Early Sensation', also featured in my last post. Although flattened by the snow, it has already shoved its way through the white blanket and is carrying on flowering as though nothing has happened.

On the left of this photo a double snowdrop is also emerging. Its triumph is likely to be brief however: if the snowfall continues it will be submerged again pretty quickly.

February Flowers

Perhaps it's the restricted life we are all experiencing in these days of pandemic, but the garden seems to be waking up more slowly this year. Maybe it's only that we've had more overcast skies than normal and, according to January statistics, more rain.

Still, now that we're a week into February a few reliably early bulbs are already creating some small patches of colour. First to open as usual are the winter aconites, which aren't aconites at all, but a member of the buttercup family called Eranthis hyemalis. Once you know the connection, the resemblance is obvious.

The earliest ones shoulder their way through the soil in spite of pouring rain and marauding slugs,

... and are quickly joined by the rest.

Given time, they make a cheerful carpet, like these at VanDusen Botanical Garden. 

Snowdrops follow soon afterwards. They are the best known of the early bulbs and collectors can choose from  around 20 different species and well over 2,000 cultivated varieties.

Mine are nearly all the very common Galanthus nivalis, but I do have one with

 distinctive green stripes on the outside petals. 

It's called 'Rosemary Burnham' and the reason I grow it is because it was discovered in the garden of a well-known Vancouver gardener whose name it bears.

Even before the snowdrops, Narcissus 'Rijnveld's Early Sensation' opened its first flowers in January. Apparently it has sometimes been sold under the name 'January' and it certainly lived up to that this year. I like the way that the backs of the petals keep some green shadings from when they were just buds.

Not many of the hellebores are in bloom yet, but 'Cherry Blossom' is ahead of the rest. One of the strongest, it reliably produces a generous cluster of striking and colourful flowers.

As the flowers open, they straighten their shoulders and look up, a desirable characteristic that is lacking in some of its family members, especially the double forms. 

Last but by no means least come the snow crocus, earlier and, to my mind, much more elegant than the later, larger Dutch crocus. They come in various colours and I've planted several different kinds. Even on cloudy days when they refuse to open, their small bright spears are a welcome sight.

February Flowers

Perhaps it's the restricted life we are all experiencing in these days of pandemic, but the garden seems to be waking up more slowly this year. Maybe it's only that we've had more overcast skies than normal and, according to January statistics, more rain.

Still, now that we're a week into February a few reliably early bulbs are already creating some small patches of colour. First to open as usual are the winter aconites, which aren't aconites at all, but a member of the buttercup family called Eranthis hyemalis. Once you know the connection, the resemblance is obvious.

The earliest ones shoulder their way through the soil in spite of pouring rain and marauding slugs,

... and are quickly joined by the rest.

Given time, they make a cheerful carpet, like these at VanDusen Botanical Garden. 

Snowdrops follow soon afterwards. They are the best known of the early bulbs and collectors can choose from  around 20 different species and well over 2,000 cultivated varieties.

Mine are nearly all the very common Galanthus nivalis, but I do have one with

 distinctive green stripes on the outside petals. 

It's called 'Rosemary Burnham' and the reason I grow it is because it was discovered in the garden of a well-known Vancouver gardener whose name it bears.

Even before the snowdrops, Narcissus 'Rijnveld's Early Sensation' opened its first flowers in January. Apparently it has sometimes been sold under the name 'January' and it certainly lived up to that this year. I like the way that the backs of the petals keep some green shadings from when they were just buds.

Not many of the hellebores are in bloom yet, but 'Cherry Blossom' is ahead of the rest. One of the strongest, it reliably produces a generous cluster of striking and colourful flowers.

As the flowers open, they straighten their shoulders and look up, a desirable characteristic that is lacking in some of its family members, especially the double forms. 

Last but by no means least come the snow crocus, earlier and, to my mind, much more elegant than the later, larger Dutch crocus. They come in various colours and I've planted several different kinds. Even on cloudy days when they refuse to open, their small bright spears are a welcome sight.