It’s strange, watching flowers appear (or not) in a new garden. I’ve found myself feeling bad for the various shortcomings, real or imagined. No sign of any snowdrops, for instance. Only two hellebores, identical pale pink ones. I had been holding off photographing them because they were hard to get to and then, suddenly, they were blasted to smithereens by a recent storm. Intellectually I know I am not responsible for the presence – or lack – of any of the flowers currently blooming in my garden, but I still feel responsible. And expectant. As the temperature gradually increases, the days lengthen and the sun becomes higher and higher in the sky, every day seems to bring new surprises. More bulb leaves appearing – and of course I have no idea what they are. Flowers appearing on a plant I only had the vaguest idea about. Some things have been hanging on for months now, and despite being rather tatty are still belting out little pools of colour that catch me by surprise as I wander around – primulas.
I love the little pinkish stalks of the new flowers, nestling safely in the heart of the otherwise battered plant.
In the side garden I think I can almost see the colour of the pulmonarias. I should bide my time until they open properly, but I can’t say I am thrilled by salmon, not at the moment anyway.
In the salad bed daisies are pushing their way up and smiling.
I suppose I should weed them out, but they are so pretty. There are tulips pushing their way up too, and some interesting leaves, but they can wait their turn.
In the front garden, the witch hazel is fading away, merging with the straw-like fronds of the stipa in the circle bed.
This is one of the plants I am most delighted with, I’ve never grown one before, and here it is, a lovely shape, planted in full view of the window by the dining table. It has flowered non stop for six weeks, so I think it deserves a break. It is handing the baton over to a much less refined plant.
To describe this wallflower as “bright” is a bit of an understatement, and I am thinking of moving it into the back garden where it can smile at me when I am working on the raised beds.
I’ve already mentioned the first daffodils, I’m not entirely sure what kind they are, possibly tete-a-tete, but it is hard to tell as the flowers seem determined to turn their heads away.
I love narcissi, and I have three pots of scented Narcissus ‘Actaea’ (Pheasant’s Eye) ready to go in the ground when I have cleared the space for them, and will certainly plant more daffs this autumn, but if you really pushed me I think I would have to say that, of all Spring bulbs, my favourites are crocuses. I’ve planted some in the little pocket in the wall in the front garden, but the leaves are only just pushing their way up, and I plan to naturalise lots in the back lawn come Autumn, but it is those narrow straplike leaves that I have been most on the look-out for as I roam around the garden. I’m happy to see the occasionally solo appearance in the circle bed.
Crocuses are definitely best in large clumps, but these occasional jewel-like glints are welcome, nonetheless. But. I was excited to glimpse, in the very neglected raised bed that runs alongside the driveway, what appeared to be a little cluster of crocus leaves pushing their up. A few days ago they looked like this:
Beautiful colour, but not very promising. Until the sun finally made an appearance, and they were transformed.
They make me smile every time I walk past. Happy Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day – do pop over to Carol’s blog and check out what is flowering in gardens all over the world.