Sunday, 3 April 2011

Is anybody alive in there?

It was March 31, the weather had been sunny and mild for a few days, snow and ice had almost disappeared from the yard.  Was it time to get growing again?  I roamed around the property with my camera, looking for signs of life.  This wasn't as much fun as I hoped, looking for emerging plants.  What usually happens is I stumble across these early risers and gasp with surprise.  Searching for them raises my expectations, taking away much of the surprise and  causing some disappointment that there isn't more to be found.  However, this is all in the name of record keeping and my degree of delight is not important, and it wasn't totally devoid of fun and surprises.

Parsnip
Edibles are on the way.  In fact, parsnips are ready now and are making me a bit impatient.  New leaves are springing from the roots that were left in the ground last year;  I worry that they are going to use up the stored sugar and not taste as good when we dig them up to eat them.  We can't dig them up until the ground thaws a few more inches down, so maybe they should be kept in the dark to discourage new growth.  I feel an experiment coming on.
Chive flowers
Chives for human consumption are nowhere to be seen.  Apparently the pink flowers lead the way, being one of the first major gathering sites for bees in the spring.  We can do without vegetative chive parts for now, since the perennial onions are coming on strong.  I planted a few chives six years ago, unaware that they would go on indefinitely and become such an important fixture in the garden.
Rhubarb
Three rhubarb leaf capsules were found among the decomposed leaves and stalks in the center of the old tire that is intended to keep the monster under control.  There is no good reason for having rhubarb in our garden. It takes up space, and more space.  I can't seem to plant other vegetables far enough away from it.  We don't really like eating it and feel guilty about that.  The upside - we sometimes get to give it away to friends and neighbours and it's a huge lush green thing after a desolate winter.  Now if only I can remember this summer to transfer it to the front yard, where it won't be in anyone's way.

Bee balm
Alpine aster, sedum, iris, tulips, lamb's ears, geranium, gaillardia, baby's breath, flax, peony, columbine, delphinium and bee balm are all presenting evidence that they will be back for another year.  These all die back in the winter and start over again the following spring, generally bigger and more robust than ever.  I plan to divide both bee balms, as soon as the soil is workable.  I'm a little anxious about it because of my limited experience with dividing roots and my fondness for these plants.  Supposedly this is how to keep them vigorous.  My incentive is simply to have more of them around.

Woolly thyme
The plants that don't die back are a mystery to me.  How do they stand being frozen to 30C below zero, and thawed, and refrozen, numerous times between November and April?  Somehow I accept this as normal for coniferous trees yet regard it as impossible for snow-in-summer, thrift, or woolly thyme.  The thyme did turn a greyish purple; fresh green extensions were found under a blanket of dead leaves.  Will the purple leaves turn back to green or will they be replaced?  I have to watch for this.  Meanwhile, the saxifrage looks exactly as it does in July.  Come to think of it, that plant hasn't really grown since joining the garden in 2008.  Maybe it's a fake.  There are also pussy toes, elephant ears, and cliff green that just stopped in their tracks a few months ago and should be continuing on their way any day now.

All this heralding of spring is now obscured by several cm's of brilliant white heavy snow.  Not to worry.  They have to deal with this every year.  If they couldn't take it, they wouldn't be in my garden.

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