My first daffodils of the season bloomed Monday.
I love my hellebores, but I have been ready for a bit of variety for a few weeks now. I do not know what variety these are. If anyone out there can tell me, I’d love to know.
I must have hundreds of daffodils. They came with the house ten years ago and have naturalized well. I have divided them, intentionally and accidentally, and I still have some bulbs sitting around awaiting a new home. Alas, I don’t know which of the bulbs are which.
As they bloom, I am trying to make note of where similar ones are sited, so that after they finish blooming I can dig them up and group them together for a more effective display. Life may well get in the way of this goal, but there’s always next year. What fun would life be if we didn’t have projects to keep us going?
Perhaps I am peculiar, but I like the way this one hangs its head a bit. I imagine it trying to summon the strength to face our appalling swings in weather with grace.
In other news, I sent off four more soil samples, for the blue-and-yellow garden (soon to be a rain garden, I hope; more on that later), the Lonicera fragrantissima bed, the blue slope, and the scree garden. The lab says they are delivering reports five weeks from when they receive the samples. Perhaps my first batch will be ready soon.
Still waiting to see if the aconites show up late to the party.
And my witch hazel is finally beginning to blossom. The buds have been hanging around for ages, but they’re finally opening up. I think this plant would be better sited elsewhere, perhaps closer to the house. I have some ideas cooking. I always have ideas cooking.
Lovely. There is something special about those first daffodils!