Word from our Visitor’s Center is that visitation drops off in May. I can’t imagine why. We might not be promoting daffodils anymore but there is still so much going on here. More and more every day. This week, after the Wednesday volunteer group (The Rockettes) planted the sweet peas along the cutting garden fence, a few of us went down to the Rock Garden. I think it’s safe to say that it has never looked sweeter or more filled in and colorful. And there really wasn’t much for us to do but marvel at its display. I’d hate for anyone to not see it just as it is right now. Pictures don’t do it justice but since the internet prevents me from grabbing you all by the hand to pull you down there, they’ll have to suffice. And if you possibly can carve some time out of your weekend (Sunday is forecast to be the better day) by all means, come see it for yourself. And take a walk by the dove tree on your way. And as you leave, say hey to all the tiny tadpoles keeping warm on the pond rocks.

The Rock Garden highlights for me are an Erigeron glaucus ‘Sea Breeze’ (second picture from the bottom) that has been steadily increasing since we planted it a couple of years ago but I don’t ever remember it blooming before. So pretty! And good old tiarella. Where has this plant (Tiarella ‘Elizabeth Oliver’) been all my life? Suddenly I’m totally in love. We planted these as plugs, also a couple of years ago, and they are really taking off now, each one as pretty as a picture.

What’s going on in your spring tapestry?

Along with everyone else along the Eastern Seaboard, we’re battening down the hatches and doing whatever we can to prepare for what looks to be a sizable storm. Some of us (that’s me) can’t help but remember last year’s hurricane-that-wasn’t: Good old Earl passed us right by and it’s tempting to think that maybe forecasters are crying wolf again with this one. But then there are others of us (not me) who were here for Hurricane Bob, 20 years ago last week. During that storm, Blithewold lost about 40 trees and another 40 plus died soon after. So we’re all (me too) watching this storm closely; doing what we can to prepare, and taking it very seriously.

Gail, Tara and I moved our most fragile container plants along with any that might act like sails or projectiles back into the greenhouse yesterday. And then Gail and I spent part of today moving a few more inside, tipping others on their side, and memorizing the gardens and taking pictures. It is a beautiful day – the calm before the storm…

The Rock Garden is the most vulnerable garden on the property because it’s so close to the Narragansett Bay shore. The storm surge is expected to be a big one and as it will be coupled with a high moon tide, that garden will likely be submerged sometime Sunday. And the North Garden is so exposed at the top of the Great Lawn that it’s the most likely to be wind damaged. We re-staked all of the dahlias and have to hope for the best. In the display garden, which is fairly protected by the bamboo grove and hedgerow of trees along the property line, we re-staked the dahlias and decided to allow the burnet (Sanguisorba tenuifolia) to flop onto crutches (a crisscross of bamboo stakes to protect other plants) so that they maybe won’t get wind-whipped. And Dick, Gail and Tree (Blithewold’s director of communications) went through and picked every ripe and almost ripe tomato from the vegetable garden.

Fred and Dan removed the shade sails from the arbor, some garden ornaments, and all of the outdoor furniture. Blithewold’s curator, Margaret has been securing the mansion’s archives – moving everything away from windows and covering furniture and artifacts with plastic. We’ll be closed for visitation for the whole weekend; tours have been cancelled and the tent will be taken down. The only thing left to do is wait – and watch.

Are you glued to the forecast too? What are you doing to prepare your garden and home for the storm?

I think it might be safe to say that we’ve been even busier than bees in the last couple of days. And by “we” I mostly mean the garden volunteers. Gail, Tara and I placed … must be hundreds! of annuals and tender perennials in the Cutting Garden; a few more in the big Display Garden bed; over a hundred in the North Garden; a baker’s dozen in the Rock Garden; and Dick and Cathy placed dozens of tomatoes in the vegetable bed. And almost faster than we (by “we” I mean Gail, Tara and I) could say “please”, they were planted, fertilized (we use Espoma Bulb-Tone, which is a slow-release granular organic fertilizer with a ratio heavy on phosphorus) and watered.

Even though we (Gail, Tara and I) have been working hard to stay one step ahead of the volunteers – I couldn’t even catch a moment to take pictures as they took the tulips out last week – I’ve found that it’s actually absolutely imperative to pause now and again to take in the changes. The other day I almost couldn’t help but stop for Virginia waterleaf (Hydrophyllum virginianum) blooming in the Bosquet: evidently they have never bloomed so abundantly because neither Gail nor I had felt the need to learn its name before. I also don’t ever remember detouring to take in the stunning contrast of flower-like samaras are on the full-moon Japanese maple (Acer shirasawanum ‘Aureum’). And even if we hadn’t had to get to the Rose Garden to place more plants (another 100 plus for tomorrow’s crew) I would have made a special trip to see the Chestnut rose (Rosa roxburghii) and my all-time favorite weird peony (Paeonia ‘Alley Cat’) in full bloom. (Click on pictures for a better view.)

Are you in a planting frenzy in your garden too? And taking time out too, to take it all in?

Spiking temperatures in the heat of the sun are making us sweat and bitter winds give us the chills. Add to that the frenetic frantics of  “gotta get the gardens cleaned out NOW!” coupled with a lethargy bordering on catatonia that sets in after a day spent out: it feels for all the world like a fever. I’d say we haven’t acclimated to the season yet except that the season itself hasn’t settled out. Compared to this time last year when we had record floods and warmth, this March – perhaps compared to any recent years has been dry – the ground is actually cracked in places – and cold. We have an April Fool’s snow in the forecast and we’re all beginning to speculate that one of these days maybe we’ll pass straight from winter into summer.

But regardless of the vagaries of March (and April) weather, plants and wildlife are as feverish for spring as we are. Despite the cold winds and the little hints of snow and even the lack of real rain everything is emerging right according to plan – perhaps not 2 weeks early this year like it was last year, but inch by inch, on schedule. A good thing too because regardless of the weather, at a certain point we gardeners can’t restrain ourselves any longer from cleaning winter out of the gardens. Here at Blithewold we have the added incentive of getting everything tidy before Daffodil Days, which start a mere week and a half from now on April 9th (and run through May 1st.)

Gail, a couple of the Deadheads, and I cut back the North Garden yesterday and we know the timing is right because tiny kitten Alchemilla mollis (Lady’s mantle) are waking beneath the scrunk of last year’s leaves, caryopteris and perovskia buds are swollen and as usual, the ‘Ballerina’ roses have even begun to break – sooner than any other roses on the property. Bees are out working the scilla (do you have any early flowers for the bees?), and Gail and I were only willing to call it quits after encountering the largest spider this side of the tropics in one of our tub-trugs. Today the Rockettes cleaned up the Rock Garden where Pasque flowers were showing fuzz, tight whorls of corydalis foliage are loosening, and we all were on the lookout for hidden gems (hellebore flowers  hiding in the old epimedium leaves) and camouflaged creatures. It was a real eye-test to spot the nest inside the spirea. (Needless to say, that particular shrub didn’t get much of a haircut. – Anyone know if the nest would be this year’s or last year’s?)

Are you feeling feverish too?

I have gotten out of the habit of getting here extra early every morning to walk the property in search of interesting things. Lately, I have really only had eyes and time for the gardens. I realized after finally walking around again yesterday morning that just like staring at a computer screen for too long, my eyes were in desperate need of a stretch. For months now I’ve been looking at the gardens from an arm’s length, sometimes a rake’s length away. I have tried to remember to step back to take in a whole garden bed but it’s probably been a while since I’ve fully focused for more than a minute on the entire landscape in front of me.

I think there’s a natural shift to our gaze as we transition into a new season. I looked outward all summer – after looking down more during the spring and inward through the winter. Now I find myself looking up.I’ve also been out of the habit of using my eyes as a macro lens to enjoy the details. The minutiae of fall is every bit as fascinating as spring.

Although I’m more interested now in looking for the senescent signs of change and the promises of spring locked in seeds and buds, the gardens are still blooming away. (To see what’s in bloom around the world today, visit Garden Bloggers Bloom Day hosted by Carol at May Dreams Gardens.) Several species of bees and even a few straggler monarch butterflies remain focused on our flowers, and because of their activity Gail and I have had to adjust our October schedule a little. We’ve taken annuals out of the North Garden and started to put it “to bed” but we just couldn’t bear to take everything out of the Rose Garden. Next week. And we’ll leave the Display Gardens (aside from a few stock plants and most of the cutting garden) as intact as possible until the bitter end.

Have you had to adjust your focus to get a good look at fall? Have you started putting your garden to bed?

Along with GBBD, today is also Blog Action Day and the focus this year is clean water. Although I am not officially participating, I offer this link once again for my local readers who might be as interested as I am in conserving water. Remember, one inch of rain on a 1000 square foot roof can fill hundreds of gallons!