End of March

As the end of March arrives, there are a few of the newly planted bulbs showing their flowers in the labyrinth, and many others with buds emerging from the ground.

There is a dramatic difference from last year, when the narrow flower beds between the grass paths were bare.  The idea is to fill them with bulbs, which provide growth and color when the perennials are just beginning to break through the mulch.  Then, after the bulbs die back, the sections will remain empty, contrasting to the rest packed with flowers.  The idea belongs to Harold Nicolson's Lime Walk at Sissinghurst, what he called "My Life's Work" which I hope to see in full bloom some day.  

You see the one of the first narcissus in the front, a variety called Marijke, with pale yellow back petals, and a deep orange, ruffled trumpet.  What the description in the catalog left out is the way the flower faces down to the ground, so the orange trumpet is not even visible.  All that can be seen while standing and walking are the yellow petals.  This shy flower requires getting down on the ground, and looking over/up into the flower to finally see the orange trumpet.  Since the stem is only about six inches tall, you really have to get down low.  I am disappointed with its garden appearance, but as they build up clumps, I imagine many of these will be cut and brought indoors, so that they can bring their fresh brightness up-close on the dining room table.  It also means that next year there will be something else planted alongside these to provide some other color.  Although when I look closely, I see that they are mixed in with something else further back from the entrance of the path.

Another place of excitement are the red leaves rising up from the Itoh hybrid peony called Kopper Kettle.  I found this at the National Arboretum sale last year, and it was a fully grown plant when I bought it, so I did not realize the initial color of the leaves would be this gorgeous.  This is a cross between a herbaceous and a tree peony, so the stems are heavier and stronger that the usual herbaceous, and the densely double flowers are described in one catalog as golden yellow, orange and red.  It is a rich and wonderful display, and I hope the plant will not need the wire supports that are required to keep the rest of the peonies from collapsing in a heap on the ground with the first heavy rain.  I hope this goes well with the peonies that were brought from the homestead in New York and a few other picked up along the way!  One catalog says that it might even re-bloom once it is established - I will be amazed if it will do that!

On the north side of the house, with some of the early Sunday morning snow beneath it, is the gallantly struggling tree peony, brought out from our property in the city. Here are the much smaller buds on the tips of the woody branches, beginning to unfurl.  This section of the yard is more protected, so the hellebores, bulbs and other peonies are actually ahead of the same varieties in the labyrinth area, even though they are not getting much sun at all.  Being on the north side of one section of the house, and the west side of another, they only get late afternoon sun in the middle of the summer, yet that is enough to keep them going.  Planted around the various stems of the tree peony are dog-tooth violets, or trout lilies - Erythronium pagoda.  I first grew these in my full-shade yard in the city, and fell in love with them.  The open-bell shaped flowers just make me smile.  I am pleased to see them multiplying and making bigger and bigger patches.  By the time the peony has fully leafed out, the Erythroniums are dying back and disappearing into the ground.  They are a perfect pairing!

Finally, I cannot resist a portrait of Four Paws, reluctant though she was to stay in place while I focused and clicked the shutter.  She is sitting next to the pointed stem of a Jack-in-the-Pulpit bought a few years ago from the National Arboretum.  This stem will reach two feet before the flower will grow on its top, far above any of the surrounding foliage.  In front of where the dog is sitting there is a clump of native Jack-in-the-Pulpit I moved up from the steep side of the ravine, where it was being threatened by erosion.  There is a third one, still underground, about where I am squatting to take the photo.  Pictures and names will be listed when they are blooming.  It is a fun, small collection, and I could easily become a fanatic since they are simple to grow and delightful in their variety.

Hopefully, today was the last snow of the year, and the weather will move out of the 40's next week.