Why is it that a pack full of seedlings is a thrilling thing and a carpet of seedlings in the garden is alarming? I once got in big trouble with a friend for bringing teasel (Dipsacus fullonum) seedlings to a plant swap because when they grow up they do this:

So do a lot of plants. I wonder if some gardeners’ preference for seedlings in packs is a control thing. We know how many we’ve sown and despite it being more time consuming to carefully transplant these guys, we’ve got a grip on them, so to speak. Now, I would definitely qualify as a control freak – I generally prefer to be in the driver’s seat. But when it comes to seeds and seedlings, I’d much rather ride shotgun. It’s so much more relaxing. With self-sowers I never have to worry about timing. They come up when they come up. I don’t have to fret about their care because they’re fine on their own. And I can still take over the wheel by weeding out the ones I don’t want and carefully transplanting any that didn’t fall where they should have. What isn’t awesome about that?

Teasel seedlings are especially easy. Because they’re biennial, we have a whole summer to decide where we want them. We can leave their carpet as an excellent weed barrier, at least until the garden grows up around them, and then allow a select few to winter over wherever we think we might want next year’s towers. And we even have time now to move 2nd year seedlings if their placement isn’t just right. (Because of their tap root, we have to dig deep).

We’ve been doing that a lot with another biennial, forget-me-not (Myosotis sylvatica), and I have big plans for the extra love-in-mist (Nigella damascena) seedlings in the cutting garden. Pretty soon we’ll have self-sowers spread out in the garden enough that they’ll always come up where we want them. All we’ll have to do after that is remove the ones that are “too many”. Easy. (Or is that what some of us don’t like to do? It can be awfully heart-wrenching to compost a healthy plant…)

Speaking of carpets, I can’t let a Daffodil Days post go by without saying how beautiful they still are. Still peaking. And meanwhile the tulips are starting to open and the cherry trees are gorgeous. It keeps getting prettier and prettier. (And I’m not just saying that because I want you to visit.)

Do you find seedling carpets a little bit scary or are you thrilled to see plants come back gangbusters? Can you thin and edit the seedlings without cringing?

Spring always brings the fast-n-furious out in me. There’s so much that must get done and so much I want to do that I have a hard time organizing my thoughts, let alone my actions. But as much as I might panic and freak out (I do more of that at home) every once in a while I am reminded that spring won’t get ahead of me if I slow down and pay attention.

It’s only April and not only that, it’s early April. What’s my hurry? There’s time to divide and move plants. There’s time to weed. There’s time to enjoy spring as it unfurls. As a matter of fact, seasonally appropriate temperatures have slowed spring back down. The magnolias might have gotten ahead of themselves (our M. stellata is OK because it was planted in a cool shady spot and hasn’t opened all the way yet) but the daffodils will keep peaking probably through the week by the looks of forecast day and night temperatures. The cherry trees, winter hazel, and crabapples, which are all looking pretty close, should stay in a state of suspended animation. There’s plenty of time to take a deep breath and enjoy it.

As for dividing and moving plants, no doubt about it, now is a great time. But take your time. It’s easier – and easier on the plants – to do it as soon as possible before they’ve grown too much but if you promise to baby them, most perennials can be transplanted for a while yet and still bloom more or less on time.

We are trying to be very methodical as we move plants back into the North Garden. We’ll shoot for a couple-three carts-full a day, and are planning our plantings so we don’t do too much head scratching when we get there. We should have everything transplanted within a couple of weeks and we won’t kill ourselves doing it. That last bit is very important. The older we (I) get, the more prone to tweaked muscles we (I) get, particularly in spring and any injury slows us down a little too much.

Are you taking spring slow and steady or do you need the reminder like I do?

Everybody has a different cue for letting ourselves admit that it’s finally spring. For some of us (me), spring officially begins when we sow the sweet peas (back around President’s Day). Others might notice spring for the first time when the forsythia blooms its head off, or when we have that first t-shirt-weather day or when the calendar says it’s so.

For some, it’s all about daffodils and Daffodil Days here at Blithewold. Well, a lot of them (dare I say “most”?) are open and we’re opening for the season starting Sunday, so no one can deny that it’s really truly spring now. The daffodils should continue to be in peak into next week. They love these cooler temperatures.

We’ve been hustling to get ready and have had an extra spring in our step because of opening two weeks ahead of schedule to better match our timing with Nature’s. We’ve fluffed and we’ve puffed and from here on in it’s a work in progress. Like any real garden, ours are in perennial transition and change by the day. Every year we focus attention on a particular garden: this year the North Garden will look quite different from years past. We’re adjusting to a new design that should make the space more welcoming to visitors, and we’ll be in there planting and rearranging every chance we get.

Even if you come just to see the daffodils, don’t miss the Rock Garden. This is the start of its favorite season. And you can’t miss the Rose Garden unless you have your eyes closed coming out of the Visitor’s Center. Open ‘em up. That garden will just keep looking more and more glorious as days go by.

So stick around. Visit as often as you possibly can and celebrate a whole new season by enjoying every bloom of it.

Which isn’t to say that anything is broken, in need of fixing. I just don’t ever remember magnolias blooming before the forsythia. Saucer magnolias are out all over town, our hedge of M. x loebneri ‘Leonard Messel’ by the parking lot started up last week and even our star magnolia along the front drive, which is notoriously late, is beginning to open from the top down. The cherry trees and tulips – early ones like ‘Analita’ – can’t seem to hold their horses either.

The weather is a little out of sequence too but we cynical optimists expected that. We’re short on rain – I’ve heard we’re about 5″ down from normal. And last weeks summer-ish temps were followed last night by a bitter chill. Luckily it was too windy for frost to settle so all is well but one flat of shocked pansies. And they’ll recover. As much as we’d like to worry about fruit trees being wiped out, the Providence Journal reported that the apples are fine too. Early peaches and plum buds might have taken a hit but the orchardist they interviewed didn’t seem too upset about it. He said he won’t have to do as much thinning later.

Even though all the books will say that transplanting and dividing is best done before the forsythia and daffodils come into peak bloom, you haven’t missed your chance by any means. Go to it and keep at it. Just make sure you give everything a good drink to help it settle in. If you have (prematurely) set out tender plants to harden off, bring them back inside or cover them with a sheet tonight because if the wind dies down overnight like it’s supposed to, they could get nipped. If you forget to cover them, spray them with the hose first thing in the morning.

If you want to catch the exact moment of daffodil peak here at Blithewold, this chilly weather is your friend. They’re really really close now and should hang tight through the weekend at least. The mansion opens for the season and Daffodil Days on April 1!

Yesterday a reporter from one of the local papers called to ask about the daffodils. She wondered when they would bloom; are they early; how long would they last; and what comes next? A very popular barrage of questions for this time of year.

I could tell her – and I’ll tell you – that they’re blooming now and I’ll even go so far as to guess that they’ll probably start peaking next week and continue into our Daffodil Days celebration that starts on the 1st of April. They are early – a good two or three weeks early and there’s no way to know how long they’ll last. Cool temperatures, particularly at night helps prolong the show – next week promises so far to be cooler than this – and we have a good variety of early and late bloomers so unless we’re hit with a heatwave, the show should go on for a few weeks altogether.

She asked what would we DO if the daffodils went by quickly?! Do? Besides enjoying it while it lasts, and trying to keep up, there’s nothing to do. Gardeners know there’s no predicting nature. We might be more dialed in than the average non-gardener but only to the extent that we know – and accept – that anything goes.

So what happens after the daffodils bloom? Everything! Tulips for starters. The reporter also wondered when would be the best time to visit Blithewold? Of course, I’m the wrong person to ask because I think it’s beautiful all the time. But you really can’t go wrong to time a visit for May or June. July and August tend to be hot but lovely. September is really spectacular. October too.

But if you love spring and don’t want to miss it, come soon. It is happening fast this year. So fast that if you picked a spot under a maple, next to a cinnamon fern or the winter hazel you could almost watch the changes as they happen. And try not to miss the other spring ephemerals. Our intern, Tricia spotted the very tiniest: new blooms on the European ginger (Asarum europaeum). Not as spectacular as a daffodil perhaps, but I’d have hated to miss it. The gardens and grounds are open.

Are you making any predictions this year? When will your daffodils bloom? Or have they already?