I apologize for my morning’s post rife with spelling errors-but it is a sign of my times. I have just now edited that post-go back, should you have a mind to. Mid May-there are not enough hours in the day to sort out and properly respond to everything how I would like. I have lots of marbles on the table-all of them threatening to fall off, lest I scoop them up. I am scooping, as fast as I can.
Delphine Gitterman, the shining star of that most fabulous French garden blog Paradis Express, has linked to me twice in the past week-do you read her? If not, sign up. Her images, her point of view-will change your gardening life. Interested in the visual? www.paradisexpress.blogspot.com Her point of view is like nothing I have ever entertained. I could not be more pleased that she follows my work. She draws images from every visual discipline that interests her; should you miss two days, you are pages behind. I read her every day-enough said.
This greatly benign spring, the heavy rain, the warm temperatures-enjoy the rush, as I am. I am caught up in the best spring rush it has ever been my privilege to participate in. Rushing to catch up, are you? Me, too.
Our winter was benign, and left early, never to return. Our spring has been balmy, even tempered. I can only think of two nights where I worried about frost. It shows. Early spring bulbs were beautiful. Flowering trees woke up and represented early. My hellebores, congested with blooms. Cool nights are making every spring statement essay length. My old tree form wisteria is gorgeous right now. In its vining form, wisteria can be a colossal irritation. It grows too fast. It frequently refuses to bloom, after all the work you might do to feed, water, and prune properly. It crushes anything but the strongest support. Rumor has it that some ancient estate in the south has been completely engulfed by a wisteria vine covering acres. Like I said, just a rumor from my early gardening years that I have never forgotten. Is not any wisteria story believable? But this year-the wisteria blooming makes me understand why gardeners put up with them.
The tree form isolates those uncivilized and fast growing tendrils from the community at large, and keeps all their mischief confined to their own home. My first wisteria tree was a one gallon whip; I planted the tiny thing with nothing but lawn around it for blocks. I drove 3 galvanized steel stakes into the ground as far as Fred from next door could manage. Within a year I was tying the trunk to my steel tripod with nylon stockings. The first five years-not a good look. My green vining version of Cousin It, bound to those silver poles-bizarre looking. Of course, there were no flowers. Neighbors would occasionally ask me what my intent was with that plant.
The 6th year, my tree wisteria bust forth with hundred of fragrant lavender racemes-all of them dripping to impossible lengths. Thousands of pea-like flowers, weeping in the most breathtaking way you could imagine. I laid down on the ground under that tree, and looked up through those flowers to the sky-a perfect gardening moment. This spring, the wisteria is blooming everywhere-heavily. The perfume, heady.
Not all evidence of a great spring is so dramatic. My old Picea Mucrunulatum have pushed forth very long candles this year. They are going for broke. This new evergreen growth I call spring green. Everywhere I see plants growing robustly; they have all been coached by the mild winter season, and the milder spring. Some years we have had no spring. An extreme winter is replaced by an equally extreme summer. I so understand why the gardens, and the gardeners in England take my breath away. A gentle and moderate climate is the best dance partner any gardener could ever hope for.
Our early spring plantings show no signs of being under siege from overly cold temperatures. The in ground plantings have grown and thickened up; the blooming is profuse. In this limestone pot, the new Alyssum “Snow Princess”. A new variety that has gotten much press at trial-I will give it a try. That distinctive alyssum spring smell-I got the message from fully ten feet away.
The crabapples have been outstanding. The flowers on this coralburst crab-dense. A coralburst has a naturally round lollipop shape-in bloom, they will make you smile. This spring, our spring-every gardeners smile is a broad one.
As Janet would say, this particular spring has been so beautiful, one could fall to the ground and weep. That’s the kind of gardener she is. As for me, it has been everything I ever imagined, and more. The best spring, ever.