Midwinter spring

Midwinter spring is its own season,

Sempiternal though sodden toward sundown,

Suspended in time between pole and tropic...

T.S. Eliot

"Sempiternal" means endless or everlasting, and it's a great word to describe this time of year.  Yesterday I noticed our Camelia Yuletide was finally blooming and I took a picture out in the rain. Camelias love Seattle's mild climate, and you often see them growing smack up against front steps of old houses where they were planted many decades ago. They are hardy and long-lived. The fancier winter blooming varieties do fine here too, the only problem is they bloom when we're stuck inside and not enjoying the garden. 

But at least I can see Yuletime from the bedroom window.  I think it was a pricey little gallon plant ($40 or something outrageous?) so we must have been feeling rich that day, or else were hooked when the nursery person said it would always bloom at Christmas, which it never has.  Sometimes it gets a few blooms at Thanksgiving; some years Yuletime doesn't flower at all.  We've had such a mild winter and maybe that's why it's covered with flowers now in February. It's totally unpredictable, like our winters.

Globemaster alliums

Oh, I like this time of year when bulbs are just sending up lush perfect leaves through the leaf mulch. No matter how common they are, there's something hopeful and comforting about the same plants coming back year after year.  In November I'm burnt out with garden work, but then early spring means another fresh start and I start poking around again outside. Every brick and paving stone is mossy and green from the wet, warm winter. Big cleanup ahead.

The purple alliums are always first, followed by the daffodils, hyacinths, tulips and so on.  The roses need pruning soon (they never lost their leaves) and the weeds never stopped growing either. So the season of work starts again.  I usually try and get a head start in February, but my gimpy ankle has slowed me down a bit. I have my fingers crossed-- it's feeling better these past two days.

This looks like a big mess, but about every 10 years the geraniums actually make it through the winter without freezing in the basement stairwell.  With some haircuts and a top dressing of compost, they'll take off again for another nine months.