Low life

A blanket of snow is not enough to stop the first stirrings of spring down at grass roots level. The thaw at the end of January did its thing overnight and revealed that plenty was going on hidden from view. The snowdrops of course seemed unperturbed and perfectly happy to flower inside their icy cocoon. They made a dramatic entrance overnight nestled amongst half rotted magnolia leaves while the hellebores too were well on their way with fat pink and ruby rich buds being gently hoisted aloft on soft rhubarb-like stems. 

Reassuringly the green shoots of recovery are clearly visible in the garden. The appearance of the phlox shoots is usually my queue for giving the garden its annual haircut, something which I try to delay for as long as possible to keep the birds interested. By the end of January this year their shoots were already two inches up, which seemed ahead of schedule, and the globe thistle and dusky cranesbill were also well on their way so the time had arrived to hunt down the secateurs and get to work.

This year I have decided not to compost those dried stems (due to lack of space) but to use them as a sort of low ‘fedge’ (cross between a fence and hedge) under the espalier apples, an area that always gets overrun with nettles from the neighbouring field. It is an experiment that will hopefully also provide a desirable residence for some garden friendly creatures. 

There was also plenty of surprisingly fresh looking foliage preserved by the chill that had though, having been flattened by the snow, lost its appeal. The hellebore leaves have a habit of concealing its emerging flowers anyway so it is always worth removing them early in the year, and encouraging a new generation of more upright citizens. The big shield fern, strictly speaking an evergreen, never quite manages to stay on its feet all winter so a quick trim of its downy stems will set the scene for the wonderful spectacle of fresh unfurling fronds later in the spring.

As well as the nice surprises there are one or two nasty ones. The first peak of some ground elder lurking at the base of the heuchera reminds me that the old enemy is alive and well. Having seen it in flower en masse in its natural woodland setting I have developed some admiration for this plant but nonetheless know that to give it an inch in the garden can be inviting trouble. Under the cover of darkness, some periwinkle too has made a break from the relative safety of the hedge row and popped up amongst the skimmia stems. This is the best time of year to spot unwanted intruders, so it pays off to be vigilant now, before the rush of new growth camouflages them once again.

The first foray into the garden is always satisfying and feels like reacquainting yourself with an old friend. Some of the small creatures happily tucked away amongst the leaves might not agree so I try to take a gentle approach, and hope that the bleary eyed toad found another place to return to his slumbers.