One day I will leave the Priory for ever. My fingers will be prised one-by-one from the greenhouse door frame and I will be dragged, yowling and shrieking, to a waiting white van. And on that day, I would like to think that one of my legacies to the gardens, will be the sheer number of spring bulbs. As well as thousands of daffodils …
… I have planted hundreds of snowdrops …
… and have ordered a further 400, to dot about and to continue this line along one of the outbuildings:
I’ve put in a few dozen cyclamen corms, as there were none …
… and several hundred crocuses as, again, there weren’t any when I started.
There are eleven different varieties but I’m afraid I haven’t got photos of them all.
Some have been in since autumn 2008 and are beginning to spread.
Some are targeted by squirrels and faltering in their conquest of the gardens.
They are ephemeral certainly and gone all too quickly. So get down on your knees, get up close and make the most of them.
Eventually, I would like the bank below the greenhouse to be smothered in crocuses.
Though they will always deserve individual attention.
Arguably, my favourite is this:
A big, fat flower …
… whose stripey, plump form puts me in mind of a waistcoat; stretched tight over Mr P’s rotund stomach.
Bulbs aside, and also flowering now, is Hamamelis x intermedia ‘Arnold Promise.’ I bought this three-foot shrub for a fiver! I was very pleased with myself. The scent is heady and makes me swoon.
The subtle, little flowers of Cornus mas are also out.
But some colour in the garden isn’t at all subtle and has nothing at all to do with flowers:
Thanks to Stacy who’s recent post, prompted me to join in. You can too!