The first blossom of 2004

by Kathy Purdy on March 9, 2004 · 1 comment

Well, the first blossom was a snowdrop, but it wasn’t any of the snowdrops I’ve been checking on regularly. It was a clump of double snowdrops given to me by my garden buddy Bub, which I had planted near my Cornus alternifolia ‘Argentea’ (now deceased) and had forgotten about. This bed is located in the southwesternmost corner of our property, and I can’t say I had ever thought of it as particularly precocious, horticulturally speaking. Maybe that’s why the pagoda dogwood died: got awakened early from dormancy and then zapped by a killer freeze. I am still debating whether to spend another thirty-five bucks to replace it.
These snowdrops are growing through a groundcover of ajuga. Sorry about the photo being so dark. Daylight was fading when I discovered my prize.

I'm always pleased when the garden is neat and tidy. That's when it looks like a garden. Nature is plants and the complicated ecosystems that support them. But even the most natural of gardens is an unnatural arrangement of plants. We stamp our will upon the landscape, even those of us who prefer to work with nature. And often, like this weekend, nature stamps back. Maybe it's that dramatic tension between artfulness and chaos that keeps us coming back to the garden. Or maybe it's just the flowers and blue skies and finding two little snakes under a rock.

M. Sinclair Stevens