What do you do when you missed ‘Wordless Wednesday’ and you have some pictures you want to share? You do a ‘Photo Friday’, which has the added benefit of allowing words.
I have two things to celebrate today. Firstly, a new look blog, not very different, but I felt the need for a change. If anyone knows what the seed heads in the header picture are, I would love to know. And, secondly, the first tulip has opened and the first iris. Yesterday, they were still tightly closed, today, despite the cold, they are yelling “look at me, aren’t I gorgeous?”
Here is tulipa ‘Stresa’
The bad weather has damaged both the petals and the leaf tips, unfortunately, so perhaps ‘gorgeous’ might be overstating it a bit, but it is there, brightening up the sunny rockery, and that’s just fine.
The iris was more of a surprise. It is in a bed just outside the potting shed door, where it doesn’t get much sunshine. I swear that yesterday it had only just started to push through the soil. Her name is ‘Pauline’ and she is tiny but quite, quite perfect.
And, finally, not a bulb but the blossom of a tree I had read about and coveted for years but had never seen, a Cornus Mas. I finally planted one last autumn, just a baby, not even a metre tall, but it is covered in little packets of blossom growing along the stem. And what blossom.
There are relatively few blooms in the garden despite some unseasonally high temperatures at the start of the month. The apricot blossom has already finished and the other fruit trees have still a while to go.
Colour is still provided mainly by the bulbs – but what colour. There are several daffodil varieties still to open but those that are brighten up every day, while the purple hyacinth ‘Peter Stuyvesant’ is stunning. The combination of the two is a joy.
The only tulip to yet show its face is a new addition, a stunning early-flowering red double, if a little short in height. It will have to be planted in front of the daffodils for next year.
The wild flowers growing on the margins and in the grass are giving as much pleasure as any bought plant. The cowslips, still few in number, are a delight and there have never been so many violets, a result, I understand, of the long winter and the cold start to spring.
And there is a pretty white interloper in the herb garden. I don’t know what it is, but it is far too pretty to call a weed. I will move it once the flowers have faded.
While there is still so much brown earth visible, the compensation is that I can savour and enjoy each and every flower, something impossible to do later in the year when the individual blooms are lost in the sheer profusion of colours and textures.