gardening: observing, planning, designing, and editing
We’ve had snow, icy fog with heavy frost, rain, and plenty of gloom. Dark days, yes, but I am not going to talk about the thick, dark clouds—they have no redeeming characteristics.
We have awoken to snow-covered plants and cars several times already. This is my kind of snow: pretty, and not sticking much to any pavement that would require shoveling.
I stepped out this morning just to see daylight, and found that there was only one small patch of snow left in my yard. We had quite a pile after the last set of snowstorms, especially in the spot where the driveway snow and the sidewalk snow were piled together.
The witch hazel usually blooms by the end of January, but I thought it could be a little late this year because of all the Alberta clippers that chugged through at the end of December and in the first half of January.
Then the snow started melting. Continue reading “The Witch Hazel Is Blooming”
Generally, the only month without something blooming in the yard is December. The witch hazel that is currently in bloom usually blooms right at the end of January, but in winter 2015, which was memorably wicked, this shrub did not bloom until March 11.
There is one detail: the flowers are quite small. This shrub forces me out the door to look for these flowers. When it drops below freezing, the petals roll up tightly inside the sepals; when it’s warm, the petals unfurl and flutter like tissue paper.