It’s still January for at least for another day or so, but it looks strangely an awful lot like mid-February – or even March here and there, and feels about the same. My brain thinks that means that May is right around the corner. But it isn’t. Not by a long shot. We can’t have seen the end of winter yet.

It’s hard to keep from speculating about spring and summer. Will the pendulum swing? Will we get dumped on by an April blizzard? Will summer be miserably chilly? All we can be sure of is that the weather is weird and will probably continue to be so from here on in. I think I can’t remember anymore what normal feels like anyway.

And who knows what the plants are thinking. My guess is that plants that hate wet winter feet are hating having wet feet. We’ve had more rain and less snow than we’re used to and the ground is only staying frozen – just barely – in the shade.

Anything that is blooming early isn’t likely to come into bloom again at the proper time so with any luck their pollinators are taking advantage of the warmish weather too. Selfishly, I can’t help but be a little disappointed about premature blooms because some flowers are easily wrecked by temperature swings and don’t look quite as outstanding as they otherwise could.

But it is what it is and the only thing to do is go in search of the tease and enjoy its pull towards spring. I know it’s way too early for bloom day too but what haven’t you had to wait for in your garden?

Looking back at my past December Garden Blogger Bloom Day posts I’m actually a little bit surprised that I remembered them wrong. I thought we had had late color in years past but this year really is unusual for the length of the lingering fall.

A lot of the plants in bloom now are the ones that are simply unwilling to give up. Here’s a little list of our hangers-on:

Other plants are blooming out of all proper sequence. I expect that of forsythia and the autumn-blooming cherry (in fact off-season bloom is the reason Prunus subhirtella ‘Autumnalis’  is so special) but flowering quince (Chaenomeles speciosa) really shouldn’t be blooming now (I couldn’t get a shot of ours because the few opening buds are at the tippy top of our largest shrub.) So many of the buds on the quince are swollen that I really fear for the inevitable frost-bite blast that could do in our spring show. And the skunk cabbage is a full 4 months early. Not all of those are up but enough of them to make me worry if there will be few for the bees come March. Or maybe the same plants will push out another round?

Are you worrying like we are about what a lingering fall might mean for spring?

Head over to May Dreams Gardens for Garden Bloggers Bloom Day and a look at what else is in bloom this December…

There has been a lot of speculation ever since Irene blew through that this wouldn’t be a good fall foliage year. Even in the days after the storm the horizon – particularly anything facing south and east – has looked markedly brownish. And then we had our unseasonably freakish snow storm (little more than a dusting here but still…) and it’s easy to just give up and think winter’s here. But we’ve had lots of  days of lovely fall weather interspersed among the ugly days (we’re enjoying a blissful spell right now) and there is plenty of fall color. Pockets of it. We just have to look a little closer.

Despite the freakishly unseasonable weather that might make us think it’s too late to plant bulbs, it absolutely isn’t. We were able to stay right on schedule – this sunny and warm post-nor’easter week is a bulb planter’s dream. We were able to wait until frost (erm… snow) to take out the last of our annuals and dahlias – amazingly some still haven’t been fully hit despite cold nights. But out they came to make way for bulbs. The Deadheads planted over 1000 tulips and alliums in the cutting garden and other display garden beds on Tuesday; Over 300 more in the North Garden that same day; and this morning the Rockettes planted 1800 little bulbs in the Rose Garden (Chionodoxa, Puschkinia, Fritillaria, Anemone…) Tomorrow the Florabundas will finish up planting something like 400 more tulips and alliums in the Rose Garden. No matter how weird the weather is this coming spring we can look forward to (amazing) pockets of color then too.

This marks the last official work-week in the gardens for the garden volunteers (they still have the big Christmas tree to decorate) and our intern Tara who saw us through a full growing season. Gail and I will really miss everyone’s smiles, good-natured growls (Toni), hard work, stories, dedication and easy company. Come by for tea any time!

Are you finding – or planting – pockets of color too?