We are finally beginning to emerge from the austerity of the winter garden with February bringing with it the first whispers of spring. Much as I enjoy the sepia tones of the bleak midwinter, it really is gladdening to see life stirring again – for now, most evidently in the greenhouse with my geraniums and pelargoniums. It may be cold outside, but it’s wonderful to bask in the rays when they do stream through the glass, warming me and my plants, safe from the temperatures outside.
Very few of last year’s seasonal plants are still standing, not least after a battering from a succession of howling gales last month. But a handful of a Hydrangea Annabel heads have valiantly clung on – at least until the big cut back. For now, though, they remain so beautiful in their skeletal fragility, especially when the sunlight catches them just so.
The appearance of tulips, alliums and fritillaria poking their heads cheerily through the heavy mulch is such a tonic, and a wonderful reminder of nature’s silent, invisible trojan-like work to replenish through the long winter. We’re just moments away now from sightings of the first narcissi flowering, which really does feel like the beginning of spring in earnest. For now, I am enjoying as many spring bulbs as I can inside, filling the cottage with the uplifting scent of the season with bowls of muscari, pots of hyacinths and vases of daffodils.
The first flush of snowdrops– another joyful harbinger of spring –have begun to emerge. I only have a scattering of them in the garden, but I adore seeing them carpeting the local landscape –they make such a sweet sight, their white petals bowing so demurely that I always make a mental note to plant more for next year.
