Showing posts with label leucojum. Show all posts
Showing posts with label leucojum. Show all posts

Thursday, May 4, 2023

Snowflakes In May


Day 203: I don't mind snowflakes in May at all, as long as they're of the Leucojum persuasion! Strongly resembling Snowdrops on steroids, Snowflakes are taller, the flowering stalks rising about a foot from ground level. The foliage is proportionately larger as well. The flowers are not borne as densely as those of Snowdrops, but again, they're bigger. Mine share a pot with the Fritillary Lilies and bloom at approximately the same time. Snowflakes of the other sort...the cold, wet kind...will not find a welcome here in May, but these may come in drifts as deep as they please and will never hear me object.

Wednesday, April 21, 2021

Snowflakes


Day 190: Despite temperatures in the 70s this week, there are Snowflakes in my garden. I am speaking, of course, of Leucojum and its occupancy of a large flower pot outside the Berry Pen where it keeps company with the Checkered Lilies. I keep promising both species more space to spread, but when autumn rolls around, they are no longer displaying foliage to remind me to separate the bulbs. Leucojum's growth habit and size are similar to English Wood-Hyacinths (a plant which here could almost be classified as invasive), its green-tipped white flowers nodding roughly a foot above ground level. The slightest breeze sets them swaying, the chorus of their bells inaudible to human ears. They are happy in full or partial sun, tolerant of dry periods, don't mind being crowded by the chives which also share the pot, but as with any bulb grown in a container, prefer to have as much soil beneath their feet as is reasonable. Mine have survived at least ten years with no more care than casual watering in the heat of summer and the occasional addition of more dirt to top up their pot.

Monday, April 8, 2019

The Bloomin' Garden


Day 177: It seems like every day now, something new opens up in my bloomin' garden. The latest flush includes Snowflakes (Leucojum, not to be confused with Snowdrops which are much shorter and bloom earlier), Checkered/Fritillary Lilies (Fritillaria) and ... now wait a minute! It's been twenty-five years since I planted hyacinths and wrote them off as a bad idea when the mole undermined all of them. How is it, then, that I have one sickly-looking Hyacinth in the front flower bed? I know that some species of plants (notably Phantom Orchids) can remain dormant for decades, but it's not a trait I associate with cultivated varieties. Still, I'll take what I get. I'll mark it and lift it in the fall to give it a better chance of survival.

That said, today's project is to locate some Pixwell gooseberry plants for the Currant Extention. I salvaged one of my old ones, but it wants company. While the berry garden doesn't add much colour to the yard, jams, jellies and frozen fruit sure make winter easier to bear.

Monday, April 23, 2018

Ring In Spring


Day 192: Substantially taller than Snowdrops, Snowflakes (Leucojum) are similar in height to English Wood Hyacinths and each white bell is accented with green dots at the tip. They are easy to grow without becoming invasive (anyone who has ever tried to eradicate English Wood Hyacinths from their garden will appreciate the difference), and will naturalize readily. They bloom somewhat later than Snowdrops, so if you're looking for another way to ring in Spring, Snowflakes are a good bet.

Wednesday, April 5, 2017

Gilbert And Sullivan


Day 174: How's your opera knowledge? In which Gilbert and Sullivan opera do we hear:
The flowers that bloom in the spring -tra la-
Breathe promise of merry sunshine!
As we merrily dance and we sing, -tra la-
We welcome the hope that they bring, -tra la-
Of a summer of roses and wine,
Of a summer of roses and wine.
And that's what we mean when we say that a thing
Is welcome as flowers that bloom in the spring.

Why, "The Mikado," of course! It's "The Flowers that Bloom in the Spring." I learned the song (piano and vocal) when I was very young and invariably sing it when the first blossoms appear in my garden. Like much of Gilbert and Sullivan's work, it has a tendency to stick in the mind, not quite an ohrwurm in that it doesn't become annoying before my brain moves on to another tune (hopefully not "The Modern Major General" which I have a hard time getting rid of, or Tom Lehrer's spin-off, "The Elements").

Currently, my Flowers that Bloom in the Spring include the Primulas which have been part of my inaccurately-designated "lawn" since I moved here, the Grape Hyacinths (another enduring resident), and the Snowflakes (Leucojum) which I planted a few years ago, as well as Hellebore, a few freshly opened daffodils, heather and red currant (in bud). Ah, the hope that they bring, tra-la! It does my heart good to see colour in the garden after the long, grey winter.