Reaching For the Light

Last year I made a post around this time of the year called The Greening of Winter's Garden which was all about the plants that the landscapers had put in for me in November and for which I had high hopes in the coming seasons. This year I have the pleasure of welcoming back old friends as well as planting new. Nor are my hopes limited to the plants, as we just received word last week that the Covid vaccine will be available to faculty this coming week and I am now signed up to receive my first round on Friday. A colleague described the feeling as being "100 pounds lighter" once she knew it was really happening, and I'm inclined to agree.

In January of 2020, before we knew a world-challenging pandemic was coming, I was hovering impatiently over my Hellebores waiting for Reanna's Ruby to bloom with frosted burgundy flowers. This year is not much different except that the plant is much more robust, has survived the deer, and turned out to be rather evergreen never losing its leaves, though I did cut back some browned ones. New buds are pushing up and it still looks spectacular in the mornings with the frost and the red and green foliage.

They might get beaten to the punch in terms of blooms, though, thanks to a Christmas present from my Mom of some Paperwhite bulbs. I'm performing a kind of experiment; I put several in a pot inside on the kitchen table, some in a pot in the greenhouse on the heating mat, and a few in a pot on the deck. Predictably the ones inside the house are doing best and growing with great speed, but all are pushing up so far. The photo was taken mere days after plant and they are triple the size and number by now. 

Not pictured are the roses, of which there are now four in the garden; two climbers, one standard, and one shrub. The white climber and white shrub were epically defoliated by little green worms at the end of the autumn, despite my attempts to pick them off regularly, so it's a relief to see that they're actually putting on new leaves even in January. The other climber, the Lady of Shallott rose, with its apricot blushes of flower has also bounced back and has a vine growing up through it that I think is a passionflower I planted from seed and gave up for lost. What didn't work out was the other white climber I put up the arbor arch from the enclosure towards the side yard, so I'll be retrying that with a couple of David Austin roses this year, namely Munstead Wood which is burgundy red, and Claire Austin which is white. Speaking of red and white roses, the standard tree is in the greenhouse for the winter where it kept right on blooming into December, but is now dormant. 

Also in the greenhouse is my lavender (flourishing), rosemary (surviving), and strawberry plant, the last of which is actually starting to put out blossom again as you can see from the photo. I'd have settled for survival of the plant, and none of the baby plants did well this year so the parent is a real trooper. I'm hoping these early blossoms signal an early harvest because I could really go for some fresh-picked strawberries with cream to compliment my morning tea while I teach from home this semester. 

Sadly it's still a bit touch-and-go with the hydrangeas in the cold frame. One is probably dead, the other has a few sad and weak-looking leaves at its base; and even out of the cold frame the landscaping one in the upper bed never did bloom this past year. And I was so looking forward to the dappled green of the Limelight hydrangea. I suppose we shall see if this year it does any better. The funny thing is that of the two potted hydrangeas, one blue (soil allowing) and one white, I have no idea which one is the survivor! 

One plant that is surviving despite its reputation for being a bit finicky is the peony. I was so concerned by the mass of brown wilt this time last year that I asked my landscaper about it and was reassured that it should come true. Well she only produced one single flower in the whole growing season, which I left well alone until the whole plant died back in the Fall. I cut it back to the base once the leaves had gone back to that shriveled state, and just this week I noticed the promising signs of new buds. Looks like, though slow to establish, she'll be coming back with a vengeance. 

There's plenty of work to do while I wait, from clearing leaves to sharpening tools, and don't even get me started on the number of plants and seeds I've already ordered. Lettuce is getting ready to be sown in the greenhouse bed as soon as I clear it out. Purple kale and Chives are surviving in the herb bed with the Mint, I'll probably cut them all back had to encourage new growth. The shade bed on the east side of the house is being dug, though very slowly. Inside too the Coleus cuttings I took have made it through so far smashingly with nothing but water, where these days they sit next to a big tray of white Sweet Peas, destined for that shade bed where they will climb of big tripods I'll cull from the pruning that is due to the treeline. A fig tree is on its way and ferns and Astilbe and Baby's Breath.

Now, more than ever, by planting a garden I feel that I am believing in tomorrow.