Dear Readers

       March is that transitional kind of month in the garden. You really can’t do much out there in the beginning. But after the long winter, you can’t keep away either. It is the time of year when I am very happy that we put some bulbs in the ground. I find myself outside just to see what has made it up yet. There is this really lovely little imported flower called Winter Aconite or Eranthus.  Given a sunny spot this little gem is the very first to bloom, sometimes even in February, but surely by early March. It even beats the snowdrops. It is in the buttercup family and it is true to its color heritage with a cheery yellow promise of spring.
        It is exciting and encouraging to have bulbs pushing up through the ground in ones garden. Still, nothing replaces a walk in the woods in early spring to see the woodland flowers getting up and about before the trees leaf out and cast too much shade. Among the very first in the woods is the skunk cabbage. They are so anxious to get going that they actually produce enough heat to melt the snow around them. They grow in wet (think muddy) places and are bizarre bulbous things that do smell quite disgusting unless you are among the insects who find it tantalizing enough to crawl right in.  Yes, I did get down on all fours to stick my nose in one to see if it really earned its name.  We used to take the children to the state park to see who could spot the very first flower and it was usually the skunk cabbage once they learned to recognize it.
       The delicate, though somewhat later, blooms of the Sharp-Lobed Hepatica (Hepatica acutiloba) are most commonly found under oak trees for they (like chanterelle mushrooms) seem to prefer oak company.  The color of this little member of the buttercup family varies from white to almost a fuchsia pink depending mostly on soil conditions. As a young gardener, I was unaware of many things (including the need to leave things alone in order to protect them). I fell in love with the delicate color of this wonderful wild flower so I moved one to my own garden.  I am sure many of you know what happened. The conditions in my garden were not the same and although the plant survived, I never saw the same color on mine as I had in the woods.
       Bloodroot (Sanguinaria Canadensis) is another March bloomer. I find this one of the purest whites among the white flowers of spring. It is aptly named for it does ooze a red sap when broken. Like many of our native wildflowers, you can find them for sale in garden centers. If you ever have the chance to purchase a double bloodroot, don’t think twice. Just get it. I don’t usually like flowers to be messed with; I like them straight up as it were. But a double bloodroot looks like nothing you have ever seen. Its petals are arranged so that when you look straight down at the flower it has a stacked squares appearance which may not sound too amazing but is. Another lovely aspect of bloodroot is to see the way the leaves curl around the delicate flowers cupping them in protective hands. When the blooms are gone the leaves open up flat.
       I realize as I sit here that I could write a little about every flower I have known. But that would probably interest only me. Much better that I should encourage you to put on a jacket, some old shoes or boots and grab a field guide to flowers. Leave your trowel at home and take a camera if you need to bring something home with you. I recommend going with a friend as well. I once spent about two hours going about a hundred yards up a stream bed with a friend. I was so focused on the plants that I had never before noticed how wonderful the birds are. She was looking up about as much as I was looking down. And although it was not the way a birder or hiker wants to take a walk, we each learned to expand her field of vision. I don’t remember the flowers I saw that day, but it was the only time I have ever seen a chestnut sided warbler.
       So don’t wait for daffodils or tulips. There is plenty going on in the out of doors before they get around to rousing themselves.

Be Well and as they say: Get out there,
Cheryl Caister