April 2008 - Late Snowfalls

It’s mid April and today it snowed again! The tiny lambs shiver in the fields: I hope they have the sense to shelter in the dip by the stream. However, the local farmer tells me that it is more likely they will be forced to the far end of field by the persistent west wind and will end up more exposed than ever. The wind is icy cold and despite the sun trying to force it’s way through the chill, the garden remains stunned: all growth having been brought to an abrupt halt by the plunging temperatures of the last few weeks. The branches are bare, the grass is muddy brown and everything looks bereft of warmth and freshness. Although a few leafy shoots on the trees are beginning to show a tiny bit of promise, there is the danger now that any new buds will be damaged by frost. All in all, it is just like winter.

As the month wears on, the hazels take on a softer silhouette, their boughs adorned by grey catkin tails and furry yellow pollen. In the raised beds in the courtyard, the erthronium dens canis are in bud: at least those that have survived the slugs, which have been systematically disseminating them. The ‘Pagoda’ erthroniums are only showing a bit of leaf: they usually flower in April but there is no way they will bloom this month!
The best thing happening in the garden is still the flowering of the many mature hellebores: I adore them, and would like to extend the varieties that are already growing here. The ‘Christmas rose’ is still flowering in the raised beds, as are many Helleborus orientalis in tones of pink, maroon and black. They clearly thrive in the damp environment of this valley. I even think they look lovely when they are going over and their petals and developing seed pods turn to porcelain.

In the herbaceous borders at the front, some early, beautiful pure cream tulips have appeared but their variety is a mystery. Everything is appearing much later than normal here: I guess it is due to the erratic weather this spring combined with the high altitude, being on the northern edge of the Eppynt mountain. It is still too cold to plant anything outside; at least I have got trays and trays of seedlings to look after indoors: including yellow verbascum, white foxglove, Tibetan blue poppy, the tall stately verbena, Gradularia bonariensis, yellow Siberian delphinium, flax, dark purple aquilegia, sweet peas and several types of grasses, including a cotton-head grass.

Sitting alone with a glass of wine in the evening, with the setting sun glowing through the stately Scots pines, I feel content. The garden is turning into adventure: a journey of discovery into an unknown territory. I have a sense there will be many twists and turns on the way. Later this year I hope to visit the Himalayan Nurseries ‘Crug Farm’ in north Wales to learn more about the type of plants which thrive in these valleys where temperatures can drop to -15C, so as to understand more about the landscape in which I am living.