Ink & Penstemon

Observations on plants and gardening from the Great Basin steppe in the American West.

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    6 posts tagged spring

    Fox and Daffodil by Sweetmart on Flickr.

    Looking forward to spring already.

    Peas—they were 30 Garlic—collapsed completely cold tomatoes, basil, eggplant, peppers Catmint—flattened former Peonies the garden before the storm

    The destruction from the latest spring snowstorm on the state record.

    I’m going to go take a pill and go to bed.

    Colorado neighbors, take notice.

    Hey, America! Snow’s a comin’!

    When I lived in Boston, I would often notice that when I talked to my family who lived in Utah about the weather, we would often get hit by it about 5 days later. This was especially true when it came to winter storms. It was interesting to see how the jet stream would march across the country fairly faithfully. 

    I thought I would mention this today because it is SNOWING. It’s May 24th, and it’s snowing. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to do some serious damage, like ruin the tomatoes plants I wrung my hands over, trash my basil I didn’t get under the cloches because there was no frost warning, and damage my irises, roses, fruit trees, etc. I suspect some hummingbirds probably succumbed to the cold.

    So, your get frost blankets, cloches, etc., out if you live east of Utah, meaning, mid-west, through Great Lakes, into New England and the East Coast, because this is coming your way. The south will get colder, but not snow, as is the usual pattern. Also, the jet stream moves across the Atlantic, so those in Europe can look out for this in a couple of weeks, perhaps.

    Welcome to the summer of volcanic ash.

    Narcissusism.

    Daffy-Down Dilly has now come to town
    with a petticoat green and a bright yellow gown.

    Down the street from where I live, there is a hill property along the roadside. The owner decided to give a present to the community and planted about a hundred or so daffodil bulbs that have naturalized and made nice colonies. The result is a cheery spring welcome. Thank you, neighbor!

    I’m so impressed by this display that I’m tempted to buy bulbs this fall and go be something of a Johnny-Apple Seed but with bulbs on empty woodland and tussocky areas along the road. Johnny-Daffodil Bulb? Doesn’t work.

    I don’t understand why more people don’t plant spring bulbs here. We have the perfect climate for them and the fast draining soils that make them thrive. I’ve heard excuses like, “I don’t like to deal with the dead foliage.” Well, plant something to hide it!

    I’m so enlivened by this display that I just may go guerilla gardening and plant a bunch. Keep posted come fall.

    April Showers Bring Snow Flurries

    Some of those not from around here have asked about the nature of our spring weather. The best way to describe our springs is “capricious.” For a pictoral demonstration, here are photos from last April. This first photo is from a mid-April storm that dumped 10” one night and caused a lot of damage: 

    The next photo was April 1st—April Fools! 

    This isn’t to say that it’s like this every year; that big storm was exceptional. But as advice for those who live in Utah or Colorado or areas of Nevada and Idaho for that matter, when making plant choices you should plan on it snowing in early April and the possibility of it snowing as late as late April early May. 

    When selecting spring flowering trees and bulbs, it behooves you to look into later flowering varieties or varieties that can stand a little snow without the flowers getting ruined. A friend of ours has a large saucer Magnolia (Magnolia x soulangiana) in his yard and says that he knows we are due for a snow storm when it flowers, because it always does and it ruins it. Many people from here have this tree as specimens in their lawn, and when you get lucky and it doesn’t snow, it is gorgeous. For the most part these get hit by a spring storm and they turn to brown mush. It would have been better for them to plant a star Magnolia (Magnolia stellata) that can take a little abuse from snow without looking raggedy afterward. I planted a Magnolia last year, Magnolia x ‘Daybreak,’ but I made sure that it flowered late so I could avoid the damaging effects of these storms. What always amazes me is the spring garden’s ability to pull through and still put on a show. Here is a picture of the back garden a week after that devastating storm:

    This year, the flowers are being a bit hesitant about opening. I have a few Mt. Hood daffodils who have dared to open, and some of my minor bulbs like the striped squill and festival hyacinths planted last fall, but most are waiting as long as possible to break. It’s been colder, and a bit dry, so I’m not surprised. It’s an unfortunate side affect of these storms: the water they bring coax out the bulbs, just in time for them to get nailed by more snow.Maybe this will be a lucky year with Magnolias, but with 6–10” on the forecast for tonight, I’m a bit skeptical.

    Garden Blogger’s Snafu Day

     May Dreams Gardens sponsors a Garden Blogger’s Bloom Day on the 15th of every month. Given the month I’ve had, I’m beginning to think we need to have a “Garden Blogger’s Snafu Day” to celebrate all of those happy and unhappy accidents that make a garden what it is, a work in progress.

    So welcome, and let me inaugurate the first Garden Blogger’s Snafu Day with a few gems—

    As I was dividing my Festuca, I thought, “I had better be careful digging; the drip irrigation line is around here somewhere.”

    !@#$&*

    When I planted these Striped Squill bulbs last fall, I gave no thought to the fact that they orient themselves to the sun, like daffodils. Fortunately, I like the blue veining most of all on these little darlings, so I don’t mind having them face away from me too much.

    Bashful Puschkinia libanotica

    I got this witch hazel a couple of years back. I wanted ‘Diane’ at first, but once I planted it, I realized that I really wanted ‘Jelena,’ which has more orange-yellow flowers and some fragrance, while ‘Diane’ has coppery-red flowers and hardly any fragrance. Strangely, the following spring I got flowers with a lot more yellow in them than ‘Diane’ should have, and they were fragrant. I believe, somehow, I ended up with ‘Jelena.’ Cosmic.

    Hamamelis x intermedia ‘Jelena’ or, at least ‘not Diane’

    As my daughter was outside with me the other day, I told her to help by dumping water that had collected in various buckets in the side yard into the water barrel. I didn’t expect her to also dump out the bucket under the compost tumbler.

    Tea anyone? My spiked rain barrel

    If you are interested in sharing what you’ve screwed up in your garden on the first of each month, send me a link to your blog and I’ll set it up. If no one participates, we’ll just chalk it up for my next “Snafu Day” post.

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