Oh, Spring, Where Art Thou?

Just when you thought it was safe to put away the snowshovels and snowboots comes a nasty storm out of the west. MA in the mountains in Idaho might have been surprised by it, but here on the flatlands, we could metaphorically see it coming a mile away. Before the storm, things were coming up in the garden,
Thalictrum/Anemonella thalictroides

Erythronium albidum

Dicentra 'Zestful'

Stylophorum diphyllum
and the Hellebores (here H. niger)(H. x orientalis)

and Hepatica acutiloba had started to bloom.All are now covered in a thick, wet blanket of snow.

While Carol and Cindy may write blog posts in their heads while gardening, I don't, because I sing when I garden (I have very tolerant, or possibly deaf, neighbors). But it's hard to sing when shoveling 6 inches of heavy, wet snow with slush underneath, what we in Chicagoland call "heart attack snow." So I was thinking about how differently this storm is affecting me from how it is affecting those further south, such as Dee in Oklahoma, who was busy covering things up. I, by contrast, found myself uncovering things, such as my Aborvitaes (Thuja occidentalis). Heavy snow this early in the spring isn't a problem in Chicagoland for flowers and perennials. The danger comes from the snowload on the branches of trees and of evergreen shrubs. While I was shoveling, I heard a crack. Looking up, I saw a huge branch break off a Boxelder (Acer negundo, Manitoba Maple, That Crappy Looking Thing) and fall into my neighbor's yard.

Ditching the shovel, I trudged through the snow in the back garden armed with a broom to rescue my young Redbud (Cercis canadensis), which was completely bent over from the weight of the snow. No photo, this was a horticultural emergency. One of my Boxelders had also lost a large branch. This storm carried a double whammy, there was ice under the snow, making it hard to get all the snow off of the Thujas.

It is almost April, so this snow won't last much beyond tomorrow afternoon. It's just not much fun today. Nobody feels like making an Easterbunny snowman.

Take a Walk on the Wild Side

I admit, I do get miffed at the squirrels and their mischief in my garden. I named it "Squirrelhaven" as an ironic tribute to them. But I'm not completely anti-squirrel (unlike my feelings about deer and rabbits). Squirrels provide much entertainment with their playful antics and acrobatics. I don't mind them eating the Crabapples, as long as they don't clip off branches to get at them, and I'm pleased when I see them munching on Boxelder seeds. The other day, there were six squirrels in the garden at once.

Squirrelhaven is also a haven to other forms of wildlife. I don't use any pesticides, so there are plenty of bees, butterflies, moths, spiders and other insects.Squirrelhaven has many native plants that support wildlife, such as Milkweeds, Liatris, Mayapples, Sanguinaria and Violets (which are the larval food of Frillary Butterflies). There is something for the bees from February through November.Conifers provide shelter, Coneflowers and Asters provide food in the winter, and the dead plant material left standing all winter provides nesting material for the birds, such as these Mourning Doves.
There are also other critters that call Squirrelhaven home, such as the ever elusive chipmunk (sorry about the graininess of the photo, but I couldn't get close),the occasional frog, and the toads, which always startle me. I nearly stepped on this one. At night I hear the footfalls of a raccoon on the roof.

In the suburbs, humans have pushed animals out of nearly all their habitats, forcing them to make homes in our yards and gardens. We have an obligation to try to provide the most hospitable environment possible, and to try to co-exist with them as best we can.

This post is part of Gardening Gone Wild's Garden Bloggers' Design Workshop.

Closer to the Earth

In the midst of a very difficult week, I found myself sitting in the garden, seeking solace among the flowers. But unlike the midsummer garden with its large and abundant flowers, the early spring garden calls the gardener off the garden swing or bench to get closer to the earth to become immersed in flowers. From a distance, all Snowdrops look alike, but up close, on inspection, their variety is revealed.

Observing the Crocuses from their level shows lovely brushstrokes and subtle coloration. To find the emerging shoots poking up out of the earth, the gardener must get close.The dark leaves of Mertensia virginica remind me of cabbage.Polemium reptans 'Stairway to Heaven' sprouts the color of ruby cabernet before turning cream and green.The tiny new leaves of Alchemilla mollis hold drops of dew.

Up close, the flowers share their secrets. This one dreams of being a ballerina.These Crocuses think they're mushrooms.This little yellow one feels like the odd man out.These sprouts are having a Sci-Fi fantasy that they are creatures from another world.Get down on your knees, look closely, and see what your flowers have to say. They might surprise you.

Love for 'Lydia'

It's been a long time since I last forced Tulips. I decided to try again last fall when I spied one of the last bags of 'Lydia' Tulips at the Morton Arboretum bulb sale (they were pretty much cleaned out of everything else). I potted them up, and they bloomed beautifully. I hadn't realized how special these Tulips were until I bought a couple of bunches of forced Tulips from a florist. I was shocked at the difference in size. Compared to 'Lydia,' they were tiny.On the right is the faded remains of a 'Lydia' Tulip. Notice that the anthers are nearly twice the size of the florist's tulip on the left.

Then I remembered something Elizabeth at Gardening While Intoxicated had said about how forced Tulips tended to be smaller than Tulips not subjected to forcing. If this is smaller, how big must these blooms be in the garden?

I'll be making sure I get some more of 'Lydia' to plant outside next year, as well as plenty to force for inside. 'Lydia' is a winner.

Awakening - March Bloom Day

Galanthus elwesii

The garden is finally waking up from a long winter sleep. The Witch Hazel, Hammamelis x intermedia 'Sunburst,' is in full bloom.Fortunately, the flowers are none the worse for the bitter temperatures it experienced earlier in the week.

It always amazes me how the Winter Aconite (Eranthis) emerges from the earth in bud,and then opens during the course of the day.
Hellebore season is about to begin. Normally, the Christmas Rose (Helleborus niger) opens first, but this year it's not clear which will open first, H. niger,
a seedling Helleborus x orientalis,
or 'Ivory Prince.'
Yesterday, the first Crocus finally bloomed.
It's a lonely Crocus, all the others aren't even in bud yet. But the Daffodils, Tulips, and Scilla are sprouting. Soon, the garden will be full of an explosion of spring bloom.

Check out what Carol has blooming at May Dreams Gardens and also find links for all the Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day posts.

CSI - Critters in the Garden

A crime has been committed, an act of garden vandalism.  Witnesses described the offender as a quadrupedal fur-bearing mammal.  The authorities have assembled this photo lineup of suspects.Rogues' Gallery

How to determine who is the culprit?  Aside from the obvious circumstantial evidence of tracks in the snow,(deer tracks)

there are other subtle clues which can reveal the miscreant's identity.  Anything eaten above three feet high was probably attacked by a deer.  Things eaten all the way down to the ground, completely buzzed off, were probably a rabbit snack.  Flowers and blooming stalks clipped off and left lying on the ground were most likely victims of squirrel mischief. 

If the damage consists of newly installed plants dug up, which happened to my sapling Redbud two years ago, blame the squirrels.They're always digging in the beds, in the planters, in the containers, in the lawn.There's no need to continue being a victim of these sneaky criminals, and the best defense is to be prepared.  Don't wait until the hungry thieves discover the goods in your garden.  Start at the first sign of new growth a consistent regimen of spray repellents.  It's best to vary them so the critters don't get used to the scent.  When I plant new things, I always cover the planting area with chickenwire for several days until the soil settles and hardens a bit, as the squirrels like newly turned soil in which to dig.  With these measures, damage can be kept to a minimum and peace and harmony can reign in the garden.

This post is part of Gardening Gone Wild's Garden Bloggers' Design Workshop.

From the "Do As I Say, Not As I Do" File: Hellebores

I love Hellebores.  In addition to their early flowers,  they are low maintenance, easy care plants which provide a rare spot of green in the absence of snow cover in the middle of winter.   About all they need in the way of care is deadheading and deadleafing at the end of winter.   Frances waits longer than I do to cut her Hellebores, but I prefer to cut off those winter-worn leaves just as the new growth begins, to make sure I avoid cutting off any buds.  (Edit. 3/13/09, I was mistaken; Frances usually cuts her Hellebores just as they start making new growth. This year was an anomaly.)  

Where I went wrong this year was with the mulch.  A little winter mulch of shredded leaves around the Hellebores is a good thing.  Shredded hardwood mulch on top of the Hellebores is not. After cutting back the leaves on one plant, this is what I found:I suspect this bud was severed by pillbugs/sowbugs because of the damage on the other side of the bud.These bugs usually eat decaying matter.  They like moist, dark conditions, such as those that occur on days in the 60s under a layer of mulch.  (In my defense, I have to say that I didn't put the hardwood mulch on top of this Hellebore.  I blame the squirrels, who are always digging in the beds and kicking the mulch around.)

A thick accumulation of unshredded, sodden leaves on top of the Hellebores is also not a good thing.After dragging this mess off the poor plant, I discovered that some stems had started to rot.Fortunately, it was only the old leaves, and I caught it in time before the new growth got damaged.  This one is entirely my fault.  Last fall, I cleaned all the leaves away from the north side of the house.  But the wind blew more in, then it snowed on December 1, and didn't stop snowing for a month.   The snow remained there for a very long time.  When it finally melted, I should have immediately pulled all the leaves out of there.   Lesson learned.