It is certainly a bit hard to believe I am writing for the IMA Blog. My more technology savvy friends are slightly shocked. I read Meg’s entry about email. Junior high? Lord have mercy. When I was in junior high I don’t think our school owned a computer. So let’s just say I am not up on cutting edge technology. And that’s okay. My purpose is to bring you info on the horticulture side of the IMA, the truly green side, the natural world. I hope to keep you updated on happenings in our own backyard, occasionally the world’s backyard, and once in awhile my backyard. So here we go, one giant blog leap for horticulturekind.

Spring is such a fickle wench. On a Sunday she’s all pouty lips and swaying hips with warm moist breezes blowing sweet promises of swelling buds and rising sap. By Tuesday she’s throwing ice water on my horticultural genitals. Such is our relationship. I’ve been disappointed before. I’ve been hurt much more before – sometimes instead of ice water you get an army boot. Lucky me. Last year we had 80 degree days followed by a week in the 20′s. Didn’t the plants just love that? All those tender soft green tree leaves turned to brown crispy dust like you find in the bottom of the toaster. Perennials, awake early from the long Indiana winter, were all turgid from the heat-accelerated lusty growth. Then they were a flaccid brown heap on the ground in a chlorophyll cesspool. Such is the life of a Horticulturist or gardener. You better learn to roll with the punches. Fortunately there are many plants that tolerate Spring’s erratic weather swings and provide some much needed bloom in late winter and early spring. I am amazed some times how coming across some little bloom at this time of year thrills me so. All these years and the multiple times the same plant has flowered and still it gets me. I want to mention just a few of the ones you are likely to come across. And fair warning, I use scientific names.

The witchhazels (Hamamelis sp.) start in February, sometimes January. Their spidery yellow, orange, and red flowers are often fragrant as well. They do a bit of performance art based on the weather. On cold cloudy days the petals remain curled tightly. On a sunny or warm day they unfurl like miniature strips of crepe paper. It’s a delight to find them on a cold sunny winter day when walking through the gardens.

Strolling through Oldfields will allow one to chance upon the Snowdrops (Galanthus nivalis).

I remember one February afternoon lying on the dried gray and tan leaves studying the small emerald tipped petals when much to my surprise a bee come to visit it as well. It was one of those “Where the hell did that come from?” moments. The hellebores likewise bloom this time of year. Helleborus x hybridus blooms white and multiple shades of pink most of the time.

However, reds, yellows, apricots and even blacks are available. Helleborus foetidus (stinking or bear’s foot hellebore) has stalks of chartreuse blooms a foot high and more.

Striking foliage makes it a great year round plant but I love the way some blooms wear a touch of red lipstick.

All of these are easy to grow in our little corner of mid-America.

As I finish this posting the trees and shrubs are encased in a truly beautiful coating of ice. They are not hurt. Fortunately we didn’t get too much here. It won’t be long before they start pushing new growth. I hope Mother Nature doesn’t bitch-slap them back to January.