Nature’s first blush has passed. Daffodils and forsythia have receded, and catkins have dropped off trees, making way for tender new leaves. The bright pastels that piqued our interest in early spring are fading away, being replaced by delicious shades of green.
If you look at the grass and the leaves of certain deciduous trees, you will notice the special color that is unfolding. This “prima vera,” first true green in Latin, announced that summer is not far off. Along with the natural world, humans awaken at this time, making more of an effort to be outdoors.
Spring never gets old… no matter how many times we go through the seasonal shift it is like the first time… hearing the chorus of birds and peepers announce the beginning and end of day; feeling the warm rays of the sun against bare skin and the cool green grass underfoot; smelling the heady blend of earthy aromas that punctuate the long stagnant air, seeing the kaleidoscope of green, yellow, and pink dotting the landscape.
The simple wonders of spring bring simple pleasures. The joyful rediscovery can be found in the ordinary and even more profoundly in the unusual flowers that point the land. The parade begins in March as the snowdrops emerge, leading onward to the winsome crocus and perky daffodils coinciding with elegant tulips cascading across gardens public and private like a well-choreographed gymnastics ensemble. And the repeat performers – that come thereafter – the bleeding heart and vibrant phlox and passionate poppy add to the cavalcade that never seems to end.
It’s an exciting time of the year for the garden-lover and for those who tend gardens, it’s the most important season, filled with tasks that always lead to more.
Orchestrating the flowers for continuous show can take finesse, but it is worth the energy and effort to plan and map your garden. Bulbs are a good way to start. Spring isn’t really spring without them, coloring the land with vibrant strokes – sometimes planted in clusters or drifts to jumpstart a garden border or section of a yard or simply placed higgledy-piggledy into a bed designated for cutting.
It’s exciting to grow tulips – their sheer variation in form and color lend all kinds of character to the garden – ranging from tiny fritillaria to parrot tulips with their lovely striations of color and feathered petals. Tulips are fun to grow and require a bit of imagination when planting varieties together as you can’t always predict their peaking together. Of course, planting the bulbs must be done in fall – so it behooves us to think of siting them now – on paper. It’s handy to photograph the site in question – which will inform the color and bloom time of the type you choose to grow, as well as the combination of plants installed.
After flowering, it is advisable to snap off the seed pods and allow the green stem and leaves to die back naturally so that the bulb is nourished. Similarly, transplanting should be done with as little interruption as possible with foliage intact and as much soil adhered to the roots as possible, inserting the bulb five inches below the surface. The dying foliage is unsightly but this may be disguised by inter-planting a successor to the bed to prosper in the tulips’ wake.
This is an important detail, for you can have an eye-popping display of tulips but once they fade, things can look desolate. For this reason be strategic in planting spring perennials so they can swathe the dying foliage. A well-placed hosta can lend cover as can a carpet of phlox or sweet woodruff – basically anything that succeeds the tulip’s bloom time can effectively disguise the rotting aftermath.
Sometimes you realize that the real-estate mantra “location, location, location” can serve the garden industry too. Installing a whole bunch of crocus bulbs in a location that is not used in spring is a mistake. You won’t get to enjoy it. Remember too that many small bulbs will naturalize and can revive a section of garden (or lawn before the mowing ensues) before many of the perennials are up. Tiny bulbs such as scilla and pushkinia are advancing among the early foliage of lady’s mantle and the shoots of daylilies, bleeding heart and iris, who will then carry on the flowering.
The daffodil (more accurately narcissus) immortalized by the Romantic poet William Wordsworth, is a good stand-alone flower. It looks good anywhere – “beside the lake, beneath the trees…” adding a stroke that mimics sunshine to the landscape. It’s extremely moving when grown in drifts and when found solo. But it can be used in design whether leaning across a path, against a wall, or in a wood, daffodils add radiance to the spring landscape.
Closer to home than Wordsworth’s haunts of England’s Lake District you can enjoy a dazzling display of daffs at Parsons Reserve off Horseneck Road in Dartmouth. I did just that on a recent spring day with my friend Cecile who suggested we make it a yearly event. I had not been for more than 20 years and found many others taking in the scene of golden radiance. According to local lore, the daffodils were planted by Raymond Pettey in the 1940s to sell during WWII when the U.S. was unable to get bulbs from Holland. The war ended and the flowers remained. Be sure to put that on your calendar for next spring. It makes for a good hike and includes a vernal pool and lovely views of Destruction Brook as it trickles toward the Slocums River.
A cutting garden is a good way to satisfy a love of whimsy. It is a place where flowers can run riot. It accepts all types and design doesn’t matter here. The color itself is what speaks and flowers are grown for a good cause: namely for displaying in a vase within your home. It’s a place for all flowers, but having one dedicated to a type of bulb is a good idea. Or extras – tulips and daffs – blooming together.
“The flowers that bloom in the spring Tra la, Breathe promise of merry sunshine” -from The Mikado by Gilbert and Sullivan.
By Laura McLean
