Borrowed finery

I don't have any flowering trees at the moment, unless you count the maple with its tiny red dots. But I enjoy the ones I pass on my daily round at this time of year.

This is one of two enormous weeping cherries in my neighborhood.

 

These cherries along the road by Old Mill Park always remind me of little girls putting on their party dresses and holding out their skirts.

 

And this one is, I think, a pear tree - not the lollipop Bradford pear but the real thing, with bronze color in the fall and altogether a benign presence.

 

Maybe it's a Callery pear.

And then, of course, we have our own cherry blossom festival along Lewis Street each spring.

 

Between those and my neighbor's cherry, I think I may not need any (except a wild cherry which is native and will attract wildlife). So maybe a crabapple instead. The classic 'sargentii' would be the one.

Magnolia mysteries

The magnolias have been particularly beautiful this year, or maybe I am just noticing them with fresh eyes. Not having grown up with them, it took me some time to appreciate them. Well, there seem to be two kinds, one evergreen and the other - the ones in bloom now - not.

Here are two beauties in town, one on Lewis St. opposite the Wheelers, the other near the farmer's market.

 

 

A bit of research reveals that it's the Southern magnolia that's evergreen, with leathery leaves and the most delicious creamy saucer-shaped blooms. We some some gorgeous trees in flower at the National Arboretum last year.


 

I have been toying with the magnolia x loebneri 'leonard messel' that Martha Stewart recommends, for the back corner of the garden. This is one of the deciduous ones - I don't think I have the room for the Southern. But the spot I have in mind is too shady and occasionally too wet. Maybe in the front?? The dithering continues.

Easter weekend

Biffy and Sarah drove down for a quick visit on a beautiful weekend. We ate, read, talked, cooked and walked. Saturday we walked along the Rappahannock and saw beautiful wildflowers. I have mertensia and trout lilies in my garden but have yet to grow trilliums despite the best efforts of my gardening friends. Does anyone know what the unnamed flower is?

You can get a better view by clicking on any of the photos.

Odds and ends

Today is sunny and chilly, a perfect March day, just right for doing a little of this and a little of that. Of course, the most exciting thing about gardening this time of year is seeing the barely visible growth that indicates successful wintering over. Sighted today, if you look closely, are epimedium, baptisia, Solomon's seal and hosta. The amsonia appears dead, but I doubt it. Buds just starting on the hydrangeas.

Planted peas (Sugar Ann, "Still the best, extra early, short-vined snap pea. Sweet, crisp, 2 1/2" pods for picking well ahead of Sugar Snap. The 2' vines do not need support"). Sawed up (yes, with a saw!) a huge dead branch that fell from my neighbor's oak tree in the high winds a week or so ago.

 

Off to the dump with the remains tomorrow.

 

Everything is yellow now - daffodils, kerria, forsythia - cheerful and pretty.

Point, shoot and hope

My latest photography technique has been prompted by the shy spring flowers that look humbly at the ground, making it hard to see how beautiful they are. I've taken to pointing the camera up from the ground, hoping I have something in view, and pressing the button. Oddly enough, it's been working pretty well. Here is a hellebore under the oak tree...

 

And leucojum in the white garden...

 

and epimedium in bloom under the oak tree - if I were more familiar with episcopal headgear, I would probably realize with this photo why it's also called bishop's hat.

 

I'm sure real photographers are familiar with this technique, but I'm feeling very smug for having invented it for myself.

Failure

This is the year the indoor bulbs sat and sulked. I've been forcing paper whites for thirty years, and for some reason I lost my knack this time around. Out of half a dozen bowls, maybe three actually bloomed. The others began to stink and die. And these were from WFF, usually quite reliable, so it must be operator error.

Amaryllis are a bit harder, but I've been able to winter them over fairly well, and the ones you buy ready to sprout are usually easy peasy. Not this year. Here are several of them in a row, refusing to grow, let alone bloom.

 

The only one that's showing any signs of life is one I've wintered over for several years. I guess it knows the drill better than the others.

 

The week of the daffodils

This is the week the daffodils suddenly burst into bloom. The first was one of the miniatures I planted in the front garden, planning for more color and interest there in early spring.

 

Next up was a clump of these under the oak tree...

 

And now the King Alfreds (or Carltons?) in the cutting garden are starting to take off, too. Here they are plopped in a vase with some hellebores.