Spring Colour

Anemone Blanda

Last month’s blog was called ‘Has winter ended?’. But maybe that should have been saved for this; after a couple of weeks of cold, gloom, and wind it certainly hasn’t felt like spring! Nature knows that it is though, even the most unobservant of us must notice the daffodils and early blossom, and a morning walk each day always reveals something new. It is a great time to plan, both for the summer but also for this time next year. Where would you like more colour, what doesn’t work and what spring bulbs to order in the summer.

Cardamine quinquefolia

The colour that the snowdrops and aconites provided has been replaced; what was bright yellow in Feb is now green as the aconite leaves have taken over and completely cover the ground. A patch of poor grass is covered in splashes of lilac, white and pink as the Anemone blanda flowers all open to bask in the light (on cloudy days they remain stubbornly closed), the hellebores add purples to the mix, and early flowering narcissi and clumps of primroses, yellow. By the pond, a patch of brightly coloured Cardamine quinquefolia or ‘five leaved cuckoo flower’, sits alongside pulmonaria and miniature daffodils; a relation to the hairy bittercress, it is much more welcome in the garden and I would recommend it to anyone who wants colourful ground cover for early spring. It grows best in light shade and appears to appreciate the damp soil from the pond, but will, apparently, tolerate much drier spots. Like the aconites it dies back completely after flowering, so it is best to grow it through something else - I did try hostas, but the slugs thought it was the best restaurant in town, so we leave it alone and pulmonaria leaves provide ground cover there.

Look up and the first blossom covers the wild plum trees. During March winds, they scatter their pink and white petals everywhere like snow, and they hum with the hundreds (thousands?) of bees that swarm over them. Hopefully, that will mean a good crop of fruit later in the year, though flowering so early nothing is guaranteed. The tree pictured has never produced any fruit in 24 years. Just coming into flower as I write is the forsythia (Forsythia × intermedia), one of which sits directly in front of a neighbour’s plum, the yellow and white in the distance are a lovely combination.

Much of March was spent digging out a very neglected flower bed. It borders the drive – & has a partner, opposite and as yet untouched – and was rock solid with matted roots from the thugs that had taken over years ago. The bed sits in full sun and was overdue a makeover. So, the plan is to attempt a prairie style planting with grasses and late summer perennials. I’d like to say something like a Piet Oudolf garden, but without the scale and eye for design…  

The plants arrived this morning, so it is time to unpack them and pot up!

Until next time, this poem describes the British spring beautifully:

"The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day.
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You're one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
a cloud come over the sunlit arch,
And wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you're two months back in the middle of March."
- Robert Frost, Two Tramps in Mud Time, 1926

All images: Author’s own.