Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone! A day early for Garden Blogger’s Bloom Day, here are blooms galore (mostly from the greenhouse). Every day I work around plants that I want. I go around sometimes saying, “I want you. and you. and yes, you too … and you … and …” – I think you should tell your Valentines that you want them (every day) – even if they know they’re already yours!

Click on pictures for a larger view with caption or hover over for caption alone. Is the new font size better for everyone? (I’m not squinting nearly so much) Also, if you’ve been having trouble reading these posts using IE, that’s working better now too. Thank you, Scott (and thank you, Wiseacre for very constructive criticism – it’s always welcome here)!

Gardens are not always just about plants. As a matter of fact, I think the plants are a bit beside the point. A lovely garden is lovely because someone made it so. Just like how a meal cooked “with love” actually tastes more flavorful (it’s a proven fact), a garden planted and tended with love is a thousand times more beautiful than any other. You know it’s true when you’re in it. There’s a certain something that’s hard to identify. It’s almost as if it’s sighing or telling jokes or smiling shyly. Loved gardens have personality.

Last week one of the Rockettes died. As wrenching as it is to lose her, we have to remember that Pat is not actually lost to us because she left us Blithewold. Just like everyone who has tended this place since its beginning and everyone who tends it still, she planted a bit of herself in the gardens. I know she loved it here. And the gardens are spectacular because of it.

The Rock Garden especially was Pat’s although she gave a willing hand in every garden on the property even on her “days off”. I can so easily conjure a picture of her walking with a slight tilt, hatless down the lane to the Rock Garden, weeder in hand chatting (telling proud grandmother stories) with friends who must miss her madly now. And in the garden I see her on all fours knowing just what to do. Completely down to earth in more ways than one. I can’t claim to have known her at all well but I would want her grandchildren to know that I adored her and felt a connection to her even if it was mostly this place. I won’t forget her energy even when she was tired and her perennially positive vibe (even in stinky weather and finally poor health) and her chuckle. She’s left us a beautiful Blithewold but there’s a hole in the garden.

In 1926 Blithewold’s 50 year old Toon tree (Cedrela sinensis aka Toona sisensis) bloomed for the first time (and was thought to be the first one to bloom in this country). William McKee, Bessie Van Wickle McKee‘s second husband, brought the flowers to the Arnold Arboretum in Boston for identification which incited plant hunter Ernest Henry Wilson and botanist Alfred Rehder to travel to Bristol to see what other amazing things the McKee’s might have on their property. Wilson and Rehder discovered a plantman’s paradise. In a letter to her daughter, Bessie wrote, “They were frankly amazed to find so lovely and interesting a place here – and kept saying, ‘Why you have a second arboretum here, we never dreamed there was a place like this.’”

Blithewold was horticulturally rich even before the Van Wickle McKees bought the property. The Gardners who owned “Ferry Hill” in the 1800′s probably planted the original Toon and other exotic trees – many of which are still living today. We know Mr. Gardner designed a meticulously kept English style garden with award winning fruit trees and flower and vegetable beds (where the Enclosed Garden is now), and he grew this area’s first orchids in his greenhouses. Clearly he and the Van Wickle McKees were plant junkies just like you (if you’re a gardener) and me.

Plants have been traveling the world with people like us since the dawn of time and non-natives have been usurping space on the land and in our hearts for pretty much ever. How many of us would hurl whole paychecks at Dan Hinkley for just a few choice finds? For a long time though it was probably only naturalists who knew to be alarmed at how the landscape was changing. Now we’re all more aware. Bittersweet (Celastrus orbiculatus) imported for its festive decorative berries is smothering everything in its path (at least in our part of the world) and invisible hitchhikers like Japanese beetle and Hemlock woolly adelgid came in with nursery stock and have proceeded to decimate whole landscapes. (Did you know that Japanese beetles eat 400 plant species? – Look around an infested garden and you’d guess it was that many.) But we addicts still want-desire-need exotic plants in our gardens and we swear we’ll keep an eye on them and we’ll never ever never let another exotic invasive escape cultivation!

It’s not just the view that’s changed – exotics are taxing the whole system. I’ve been reading Bringing Nature Home – How Native Plants Sustain Wildlife in Our Gardens by Douglas Tallamy and am feeling so conflicted now about what to plant in my own garden that I am certifiably toons. Just ask Gail. I knew there were arguments for using natives in the landscape – we all talk about using the right plant in the right location and what’s better (less maintenance and fuss) than the plant that would have grown there in the first place? But Tallamy makes a convincing argument for planting natives from a bug’s and bird’s and butterfly/moth’s eye view. Our native creepy crawlies have specifically adapted over the millenia to eat specific plants. Sometimes an exotic plant has an edible leaf chemistry but a lot of times, not. Some people might think “but I don’t want bugs eating my garden because then I’ll have to use pesticides for goodness sake!” and this is Tallamy’s retort: “Somehow along the way we have come to expect perfection in our gardens: the plastic quality of artificial flowers is now seen as normal and healthy. It is neither. Instead, it is a clear sign of a garden so contrived that it is no longer a living community, so unbalanced that any life form other than the desired plants is viewed as an enemy and quickly eliminated. … a sterile garden is one teetering on the brink of destruction.” Nature’s own checks and balances kick in when natives are planted – preditors follow the prey. (If you build it they will come.)

I think Tallamy is (and I am) preaching to the choir. We true gardeners know there’s a balance to life and we want our gardens to be with nature, not against it. My head spins because I still feel justified as a gardener/horticulturist working in one of this country’s only coastal arboreta to try new plants as they become available (plus I want them). But I think we’ve got a bounden duty to plant and teach with our natives as well. (And in my own garden I’ll be going toons but probably not growing them.)

Sometimes that’s not a bad thing. (I’m not talking about Superbowl Sunday chili binges and consolation snacks for sad Patriots’ fans.) Deliciously spring-like temperatures and the weekend’s warming sun have started plumping up the buds – some fit to burst.

This willow in the nursery (labeled Salix ‘Mt. Aso’) couldn’t wait another moment to bust out its fiberoptic glow plugs and the witch hazel (Hamemelis x intermedia ‘Diane’) has begun uncreaking its crimps like an arthritic yogi.

Buds on the Cornelian Cherry (Cornus mas) are fairly rotund and the Star Magnolia’s (Magnolia stellata) are fat fuzzy slippers which hopefully will not be tempted to unwrap too soon in the yo-yo weather. The hellebores (Helleborus foetidus) have finally un-caped their plump buds right on schedule.

What has put on fat in your garden? Whenever the weather’s not too rotten, take a close look. This is a great time to test your winter i.d. skills (if you learn to identify trees and shrubs in the winter, you can i.d. them anytime – who needs leaves?!) and if you’re out there watching the buds and ticking off the days to spring bloom, you won’t miss the show. (Winter and spring bloomers tend to not be big self-promoters. You have to seek them out.)

If you want a spring tease, cut a few branches of early spring bloomers and place them in water. About a month ago I cut some Forsythia and Flowering Quince (Chaenomeles speciosa) and kept them in one of the cool greenhouses. The Forsythia opened over the weekend and the Quince will probably be only another sunny day behind. When you first cut the branches and put them in a vase, make sure to make a verticle cut through the base of the stem to expose more pithy surface area to the water. To speed bloom, give them fresh warm water everyday and keep them in a warm, sunny location. To slow them down, give them only cold water and keep them in a cool room. Depending on how close the buds are to breaking when you pick and how warm they are kept, forcing can take anywhere from a week to (in my case) a month.