The Little Bulbs: A Tale of Two Gardens by Elizabeth Lawrence is what inspired my interest in snowdrops, but it took many years before I actually got any planted. This is partly because I was confused by their blooming time. In Elizabeth Lawrence’s southern gardens they bloomed on Candlemas Day (February 2) and sometimes “more than once known them to take advantage of an ‘amazing interlude’ of mild weather in January to slip out of the half frozen muck and flower serenely.”
Here in my New England garden there is often snow on the ground through March and I feared the beautiful snowdrops would bloom under the snow – all unseen. No point in planting them here! But I finally gave them a try, planting a dozen bulbs below some poorly sited dwarf apple trees. Here they have bloomed and given me great pleasure along with Glory-of-the snow, scillas and grape hyacinths. They are planted in the grass and I try to make sure it is mowed low before it goes dormant late in the fall. The fall seems to last longer these days, and spring arrives later. This year Candlemas Day dawned with freezing rain on top of the snow. On April 2 I mentioned in my journal that the snow was still melting. The photo above was taken on April 15.
For this reason, Miss Lawrence’s garden seemed as exotic as any I have ever read about, but what makes her book such a delight is her love of plants, and of gardeners, and her knowledge of those plants, and the gardeners who became her friends. To me, her books seem to contain so much history, of plants, of gardens, and of friends. There is something to learn about all three even though my garden on a windy Massachusetts hill is so different.
I couldn’t get the assigned reading for Garden Bloggers Book Club, but I can highly recommend the delights of The Little Bulbs and Gardening for Love: The Market Bulletins edited and with an introduction by Allen Lacy.
The vegetable garden is in. It doesn’t look like much but it includes lettuce (from starts that should be ready to harvest next week) beets, chard, cilantro, sugar snaps and sweet peas, radishes, lettuce mix and zucchini , as well as broccoli, brussel sprouts, tomato and cucumber seedlings.
In the garden extension on the other side of the raspberry patch I have winter squash, crookneck squash, yellow and green filet beans and a potato barrel. It is even less picturesque that the garden above. This is the first summer of my ‘retirement’ and I have at least accomplished being on time with vegetable planting. This is a most satisfied feeling. Especially since that mean an early start to harvesting.
We have survived several nights of cold, but not freezing, temperatures. Now it is hot and I am hoping for a good rain, not just the predicted showers. I’ve been watering, but it is not easy. On to the ornamental gardens! Such as they are.
Blooms everywhere. I have two blooming rhododendrons, Boule de Neige and Rangoon, but a friend who lives in Hawley has 300! He recently invited the Greenfield Garden Club to enjoy the rhodie pictured above along with others in shades of red, yellow, salmon, and white. If they needed more variety they could wander off into the fragrant grove of 70 lilacs.
Jerry invited everyone back for another Garden Open Today when he is hosting a delegation from the American Rhododendron Society. The deciduous azaleas will also be in bloom on May 31. If they are interested in more variety they can stroll among the 50 tree peonies.
Jerry, a retired history professor, has found a passion that has brought him pleasure, contact with new and equally passionate friends, and local fame because he is so willing to share the beauties of his gardens, and his expertise. He has made rhododendron planting technique easy to remember. “Keep it simple. Just a dimple”. Instead of the $50 holes we are usually encouraged to dig for our plants, a very shallow hole is what rhodies demand.
This was the first of the many garden parties and tours that are on my spring calendar. You’ll hear more.
Obviously this is not a photo of me in the garden on Sunday morning, but there I am on my Sunday Morning Gardener show which I record in Beverly, Massachusetts on northshore104.9.
Aurelia Nelson who works for the station is my partner and with the help of our producer/engineer Jay Foss we have a jolly time talking to callers, and experts like Paul Tukey of Safe Lawns and Marie Stella, garden historian and designer. Last week we were talking about all the garden tours around which inspire all of us gardeners and help fund many types of good works. We are also promoting local food and after slaving away in the studio Aurelia and I nipped over to the Hawthorne Inn in Salem for a Harvest dinner where much of the menu was local food, including the clams and ramps in my stew, the goat cheese in my cheesecake and the rhubarb in our delicious compote which was really gilding that cheesecake. There was even local wine. Tune in and listen at 8 am on Sunday Morning.
Recently I was reading Garden Rant, one of my favorite blogs, where Michele Owens talked about the magic of apple trees and said that she is one of two people whe knows who bought their house because of the blooming apple tree in the yard.
I can understand this because in the spring of the year my fields are dotted with old apple trees, all in bloom right now. I can’t help thinking of the former residents of this old farm who counted on these trees for a lot more than aesthetic pleasure.
I do remember my first sight of our old farmhouse one hot September day 29 years ago. It had been used as a summer house for a number of years and was poorly maintained. After a tour of the interior, the real estate lady and I sat in the shade under an ancient apple tree, and found a couple of edible windfalls. We chomped and we listened to the silence. No other houses were in sight. The realtor didn’t have to do much selling. My fear was that we would never pull off the deal and I would never live in this ‘charming’ tumbledown house.
We did manage it and now we get to enjoy the old apples in every season, even taking a small harvest every year. The apple tree I sat under that September day has suffered further depredations, but it blooms exhuberantly, holds a tree house (platform would be more accurate) for the grandchildren and shelters the Cottage Ornee, our basic version of a summerhouse. Screens.
We are always trying to eliminate lawn, and the labor of mowing. Unfortunately more lawn always seems to pop up somewhere else, but this is the latest lawn elimination project.
In a moment of madness I planted a lot of daffodils in the lawn – never calculating that this area of lawn, in front of the peonies and rhododendrons, could not be properly mowed before the other plants were in bloom. Daffodils in the lawn were very pretty. The fading foliage was not so.
I have been moving the daffodils to the strip of lawn behind the peonies. This is a good move as far as it goes. Now we come to the next move. I have started removing the sod and planting Waldensteinia, or barren strawberry, in its place. This plant is pachysandra-ish, except that the foliage is like large strawberry leaves and it has the advantage of straweberry-ish blossoms. Only yellow.
The idea is that this large strip of lawn will eventually be eliminated. The barren strawberry will thrive, with shade in the morning and sun in the afternoon. It will be underplanted with the daffodils which will bloom in the spring and will wither all unnoticed as they should.
My beautiful big barren strawberry plants came from the Nasami Farm Native Wildflower Nursery in Whately, Mass. It is run by the
New England Wildflower Society. There are now eight greenhouse operating, and this is the largest wildflower propogation nursery around. Check out their website
I’m a day late with my Bloom Day posting. Curses to the computer and phone gods! Here is what is in bloom at The End of the Road. An ornamental plum. Chokecherries. Old apple trees, one of which is at the edge of the lawn sheltering the Cottage Ornee.
The ancient white lilacs just started. A single primrose. So far. I have to mention the dandelions in the lawn. And violets. I may eventually get photos here. Keep watching.
Our first dandelions appeared on May 6th, after the violets in the lawn. This seemed early to me. After a very long winter, spring is arriving in a rush.
It is the dandelion I was thinking of when I named my website and blog. Although it is the scourge of those who strive for fine turf lawns, I look at it’s cheerful face and see a reflection of the warm which I have been longing for.
In addition, because of its jagged leaves the name refers to the teeth of the lion – dent de lion – and I am a Leo. I like to think I have my leonine moments, majestic and roaring, but I rarely show my teeth.
Huzzahs to the common dandelion.
The daffodils were dripping in my own garden when I left for Tower Hill Botanic Garden in Boylston. It was the weekend of the Daffodil Show and the Primrose Show. I got to walk the long border of the Systematic Garden holding all 11 classes of daffodils, more properly known as narcissus. The Systematic Garden has numerous other beds laid out to hold varieties of one type of plant. Then it was down the steps to the Daffodil Field with literally thousands and thousands of daffodils in full bloom The air was cool and misty. Perfect daffodil weather. Inside, where it was warm and dry perfect daffodil blooms were being judged in their own classes, but it was the experience of the abundance that was moving.
Primroses were also being judged and this P. elatior, otherwise known as the Oxslip primrose, was waiting its turn. There were many beautiful primroses in shades of yellow and purple and pink. Many different forms, but all singing of spring. I couldn’t find any outdoors, but I did buy a tiny yellow auricula for my own garden. I have just the space.
The Little Bulbs: A Tale of Two Gardens by Elizabeth Lawrence is what inspired my interest in snowdrops, but it took many years before I actually got any planted. This is partly because I was confused by their blooming time. In Elizabeth Lawrence’s southern gardens they bloomed on Candlemas Day (February 2) and sometimes “more than once known them to take advantage of an ‘amazing interlude’ of mild weather in January to slip out of the half frozen muck and flower serenely.”
Garden Bloggers Book Club | Pat May 31, 2008 | 
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