Notes from the Garden: No April Showers

While the snow and ice delayed the daffodils this year (and we missed two weeks of school), the subsequent plunge into summer temperatures in March meant that their reign over the landscape was truncated. The bright blooms of the narcissus do not fare well in 80-degree heat, nor do they enjoy sharp variations in temperature, such as a surprise snowfall on March 16.

They looked unhappy and I was MOST unhappy.

Not the view I wanted to see in the middle of March…

A few of the new bulbs I put out last fall are still blooming. All of them are scented jonquils, which makes a feast for the eyes and nose.

I don’t know the variety, but the tight cluster of blooms on this jonquil smells amazing!

I continue to be infatuated by double daffodils, which are such a wonder of creation with their intricate and delicate lines.

Two lemony-yellow double daffodils.

April, thus far, has been a parched month. We’ve had a grand total of 1/2 inch of rain in my neck of the woods, and my farmer sister worries incessantly about how this springtime drought will impact the summer hay season. There’s been little respite from the intense sun, as many of the mature trees had yet to leaf out.

A hickory tree seedling is a masterpiece of design.

I’ve delayed putting any new plants out or transplanting perennials that have wandered far from their intended home, because I don’t want to spend every morning watering. I did, however, succumb to the temptation to buy some summer annuals during an afternoon of greenhouse hopping with my sisters. (The minions went on this jaunt as well, and I know they are impressed by my ability to stop suddenly in the middle of the road to take a photo of a historic building. I have mad skills.)

Planted in April 2021, this was the first year of blooms for this dogwood tree.

One positive note for the unseasonably hot and dry April of 2026: one of my dogwood trees, planted in April 2021, bloomed for the first time!

Dame’s rocket has flourished along the old railroad as long as I can remember.

But yesterday and today, the weather gods granted us moderate, spring like temperatures, and my morning walk was glorious.

Miami mist, or Phacelia purshii. It’s a native that clusters in the shady spots along the old railroad.

In the garden, the Bearded Iris are putting on a show and smell divine. I’ve been cutting them, and along with the purple allium and variegated Solomon’s Seal, making enough arrangements to almost forget my sadness about the shortened daffodil season.

The purple Iris are the first to bloom, which is the color my mother always had in her garden. I have more of this blue variety.

I wish the weather would stay like this, but the forecast doesn’t look promising – except that the rise in temperature might bring some much-needed rain. And rain, of course, makes it easier to dig up the weeds, which are never daunted by climate changes. If I could only invent a must-have product derived from chickweed, I could leave my day job and devote all of my time to the garden, books, tea, and historic buildings. Hope springs eternal!