the garden

Glowing faces

In a jug
on the dining room table

the ones in front that look a lot like "scrambled eggs" has been growing here
for decades, if not longer. It's easy to see why people call it that.
But it's true given name...well, at least its current official name
is Van Sion and is named, according to a history shared
by my friend Scott at Old House Gardens, for
"Vincent Sion, a Fleming, living in London, [who] cherished it in his garden for many years
before it flowered in the year 1620." 

This is an heirloom if there ever was one.

And, of course, there's all sorts of discussion
for this daffodil has a mind of its own.*
Some years in this garden it is all gold, as in the photo
other years, it sports streaks of bright green.
Live a few years with a flower like this beauty and
you will come to believe that plants do have personalities.
And they have moods.

i love that this curious individual persists and thrives
all on its own.
seemingly forever.

The other daff with its glorious glowing trumpet?
He is one of a very handsome crowd
from a bagged mix of unnamed bulbs i couldn't resist at the hardware store.

*From Old House Gardens:
"All ‘Van Sion’ bulbs sold in the US today are grown on a small island off the north coast of the Netherlands. There the climate is perfect for ripening bulbs which will bloom with all of the doubling neatly contained within the trumpet...No matter where you garden, that’s what you can expect to see the first year after you plant them, and that’s what most books and catalogs show you.
      But every spring after that, most of these bulbs will produce quite different blooms – shaggy powderpuffs with no sign of a trumpet, as you see in our photos here. And in some years or some gardens, these blooms will be heavily marked with green or they’ll open gnarled and imperfect. Though they’re weirdly charming, these mop-headed blooms are rarely pictured in books or catalogs.
 

‘Van Sion’ isn’t the only double
daffodil to bloom in two different
forms. Here’s another from
Paradisi in Sole Paradisus,
John Parkinson’s landmark
florilegium of 1629."

a tiny jam jar

is the perfect vessel for these tiny daffodils and glories.

Visitors from another latitude

bought a bunch for a friend's birthday
and myself



the sepals resemble the way stockings wrinkle 'round old ladies' ankles



that's a net bag of pine nuts i'm snacking on, next to the painted pitcher....mm, mm, good!

April 27th

Here is the next batch

'Hawera' at the very top, then 'Baby Boomer' and 'Sun Disc'
with 'Valeri Finnis' muscari

all of these sweeties are fragrant
and make wonderful cut flowers for the house
where they last several days.
the daffodils have formed nice little colonies in the garden
while Valerie has multiplied, too, if not as robustly.

April 28th

More daffodils...from my garden
Hm.
i just realized that i have probably collected
a greater number of daffodil varieties than any other plant in my garden.
That's because there are so many incredible little ones and they are
hands-down easy to grow...all you do is plant the bulbs then stand back
and let them do their thing.
Running through them just quickly, from memory, i count 18 varieties...so far.

Today i'm featuring two:

Both are considered heirlooms... the little marvel named N. x odorus ‘Plenus’, or Double Campernelle. As described by Scott Kunst, owner of Old House Gardens, "With dozens of petals neatly nested together as if in a perfect little rose — and just as fragrant — this tough little double daffodil has been grown and loved for over 400 years."

The fascinating blooms point skyward and--when we aren't having a horrible heat wave--the blossoms are long lasting and make wonderful cut flowers to bring indoors.

   

One of the most reliable, most prolific bloomers is pure white 'Thalia'. Again, from Scott: "Orchids or doves? With nodding flowers and soft white petals that sweep back dramatically from the cup, ‘Thalia’ may well remind you of both. With two or three blossoms per stem, it’s a strong, dependable grower ... the oldest garden form of the wild N. triandrus, and a definite classic."

Thick flocks of this sweetie appear in my garden every year.

  

April 24th

i have collected several miniature daffodils
This is 'Minnow'
It is smaller than a 25 cent piece
(translation: it is a little more than 2 centimeters)

This little fellow, 'Rip Van Winkle',  is about the diameter of a golf ball:
(as always, click on the image to view a larger version)

i've seen, and there are in the garden now, versions where
there is no trumpet to speak of at all
but this year
most of Mr. Winkle's flowers have attempted to form one.
This one has succeeded:

 

'Snipe' is another miniature
i first fell in love with this sweet thing at a daffodil show<
it opens with a pale yellow trumpet

...that gradually turns to almost white

Walking past them
you see a patch of stars

April 23rd

Some of the daffodils
the bigger ones
that grace the garden now.
i'm not sure of this one's name

This white one is 'Seagull'
and the colors in its cup would be a bit darker if they had some shade
during the day

 

 

March 28th

This last week we got some wonderful rain
and the first of the 'Tete a Tetes' opened
to join the crowd of late crocus and
miniature irises

March 21st

'Tis Spring!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!*
i am reveling in the glorious sunshine and chilly breezes
(the crocus hardly dare open).
The last of the Grand Soleil d'Or paper white narcissus
(literally "sun gold"
for those who, like me, have no clue when it comes to French)
are celebrating with us.
Fat daffodils buds are out in the garden
just waiting.

i believe this is better when viewed larger. Please click on it to see a larger version in a new window:


   

* My little voice often pipes up with this phrase from Lewis Carroll's Jabberwocky, ever since i memorized the poem as it was put to music by a 1960's trio called (i think i remember it correctly) "The 3 D's" (three guys with brilliant voices who sang familiar as well as original folk songs). They were famous amongst our community of listeners in small western towns and cities when i was young. i haven't thought of them for decades...until composing a post on this fine spring day. Sadly, Googling the group's name yields no results...i wonder where i stashed those old LP's, if i even have that one anymore...i wonder where i can buy a new needle for my old turntable...

My little voice is certain it was influenced by the Queen in Her Palace, posting.

March 31st

click to see a larger view

it's been an exhausting week of
Serious Thinking: Problem Solving and
General Wrestling with The Universe
which always leaves me feeling
disconnected
hollow
aimless

i needed a tonic beyond mere cleaning up in the garden
which is about all i can do at this stage
and planting peas only takes seconds.

so
when i felt an itch
to be a bit crafty
i collected an armload of birch twigs
from the trees down the road
sat down outside and pruned them all into even (kinda) lengths
and glued them to the outside of a very ugly
plastic window box.
then i stuffed in as many pots of daffs
i had persuaded to flower earlier than usual
they are
Tete e Tete, Itzim, i think, and....oh dear, i don't
remember the name of the little one with white petals,
and muscari
then i squeezed in as many pansies and Johnnys as i could
and poked in some moss just to finish it off a bit.

i am fairly certain that the glue will not
hold up for more than a season in the weather
but i couldn't seem to find the right combination
of materials and adhesive
a problem to be puzzled out as i go through
the season, keeping my eyes out for a better
box, the right glues...and maybe another method altogether.

yes
the Tete e Tetes have begun flowering in their proper digs
out in the garden
but i needed a window box, too.

oh, by the way
the curtain is an assemblage of
handmade doilies i inherited
and i made sure to install
a uv filter to protect them from the sun.