A Gentle Plea for Discretion - February 28, 2010

I am paraphrasing a title from the eminent garden writer, Mirabel Osler, when I ask for a 'gentle plea'. At this time of year I am keenly reminded of what it means to be discreet. Late winter is a time of subtlety and discretion. Changes are going on in the quiet thawing moments, and unless we pay close attention we can miss the true joys of the season.

I love wandering the garden in the quiet hour of dawn and seeing what i can find peeking through the frost. Our puppy, Walter, can be extremely helpful in finding these newly emerged treasures, although he still needs to perfect a gentle touch. Last fall we added to our colonies of snowdrops (galanthus elwesii & galanthus nivalis) by planting a few hundred tiny bulbs under the hedges. Now I know that sounds daunting to the uninitiated, but planting 200 tiny snowdrop bulbs can be undertaken in an hour after lunch on a beautiful October afternoon. They only need to be planted 3 inches deep, so it requires no more muscle than any of us possess and several bulbs can be dropped in one hole to speed the process. I like walking around the garden with my little paper bag of bulbs and planting them in the nooks and crannys so they surprise me in these grey flannel days of winter. Nothing can improve the spirit more than finding a clump of snowdrops in bloom on a February morning.

These are tiny blooms. These could be missed by the hurried or impatient. These winter jewels require the observer to be aware, to slow down and pay attention. When you notice them, it feels as though you have been let in on a secret; something special that not everyone is privy to. They are the epitome of subtlety.

We also discovered another beauty by reading Elizabeth Lawrence's 'THE LITTLE BULBS'. It is crocus tomasianus (known as "tommies" by seasoned gardeners). This is a species crocus, which means, it occurs naturally in the wild. It is not a technicolor, overblown hybrid that shouts at you from the street. It whispers. This crocus is the pale lavender like the inside of a clam shell and appears translucent in morning light. To tell the truth, I had forgotten where I had planted these, and it was not until I was doing some cleaning a few weeks ago that I discovered one perfect bloom tucked into a sunny corner by the front door. My heart jumped, I sat down, and i realized again why I gardened. This crocus will multiply on it's own, and a cluster of bulbs will become a carpet in due time........a magic carpet.

This is a 'gentle plea' to slow down and see.......to let the true magic of this time reveal itself to you. Each chartreuse bud on the willow, each tiny nose of the emerging daffodils, each subtle sign let's us know the miracle of spring. Things change.......not only in big dramatic sweeps, but sometimes one tiny bloom at a time.