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Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Too Early

During the start of spring cleaning my garden, I wandered around with a camera on Saturday and took note of the first of the 2012 blooms.  Plants are sprouting everywhere, popping up here and opening tender leaves there.  And it is far too early to consider we've seen the last of Winter.

I know, my Darlings (speaking to the daffodils now), that you're far past ready to stick up your heads and get growing. Like the early worm for the migrating birds, however, you're just going to get yourselves hurt.  Yes, we've seen a lot of days in the 60's and 70's, and I know it was above 60 and sunny for the last trio of days, but the weatherperson tells us it will then get cold again.  Highs in the 50's, lows in the 30's for the rest of the week.      



Wasting my breath, aren't I?  I've got about as good a chance of the bulbs listening to me as I do getting Mrs. ProfessorRoush and her diminutive clone to follow my lead.  Look at the first beautiful blooms that are out already.  I found my first Siberian Squill (Scilla siberica) up and starting to bloom this weekend, glorious in its breathtaking blue reflection of the Kansas sky. 





And, popping up among the roses, a bright cheerful Iris reticulata to contrast its dark blue and yellow against the brown grass mulch.















Worst of all, for me, is the fact that a number of roses are beginning to leaf out, just like the 'Ballerina' at the right.  Too fast.  Too fast, my dancing beauty, because your thin canes and tender leaves are just going to be left shivering in the wind.


A prayer, please, for those who are about to get slammed with a late freeze.  You know it's coming.  I know it's coming.  We can forecast it.  The plants can only carry the history of climate in their genes.  So many cold days followed by so many warming days and they think it's time to bloom.  Well, my Loves, not this year do the old patterns work.  Be slow this year.  Be patient this year.  Listen not to the warm sunlight.  Listen not to the warming southern winds. This is Kansas, not Florida.  Hell's demons spend their Spring Break on our prairies. 

5 comments:

  1. My sentiments, exactly! Two days ago was 60+ and I planted some seeds in the raised bed/hoop house. But yesterday, the cold, cold wind almost tore the hoop house apart and spread a chill at night so everything brave enough to make an early entry now looks very sorry! Spring is always a wild ride here and it sounds the same in Kansas!

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  2. Yep. I've completely given up on homemade hoop houses here in Kansas. Never been able to get one to last more than a week.

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  3. Spring cleaning began in the garden today. Crocuses opened in late January, daffodils have been blooming for almost a month, maple buds are swelling, and some of the roses are waking up a bit earlier than I would like. It proves to us that it is Mother Nature who is in control of these things, and that nothing follows the progression that we want it to. Whatever happens from now till summer, gardeners accept it as a natural part of the Cycle ... and we are thankful for whatever Mother Nature deems us worthy to receive.

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  4. Here, 130 miles south, a few crocuses didn't make it, but the narcissus did, as did the ineluctable bindweed. Neither cold nor wind nor heat nor disapprobation keeps it from growth. Only in the early (metric) spring can one believe that eradication is possible.

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  5. Narcissus just starting here. Haven't searched for bindweed, but I have no doubt it's there.

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